Limitless Seas 3, Chapter 3.

Chapter 3.

“You think I am some merchant that wishes to barter with you? No, I am a Paktul, the greatest warrior and ruler of my people,” the voice said, the sound emanating from the glowing orb in Larson’s hand. He could feel the orb vibrate as the being inside tried and failed to lash out and injure Larson. Not only was sound transmitted by the orb, but also Paktul’s emotion. Larson could feel his anger, and perhaps the slightest tinge of fear.

“I believe you are, or were, a warrior, at some time. The problem for you is, that you’re no longer what you once were, now you’re just a being trapped in an orb. An orb that I control. If I wish I can destroy you, taking your essence to empower one of my weapons,” Larson said.

“If you hold such power, then free me or destroy me. I have no wish to live like this, it is no way for one of our kind to live,” Larson could feel the vibrations in the orb diminish. The transmitted emotions changed; the anger was still there, but also hopelessness. If these emotions were true, and not an attempt by Paktul to manipulate him, Larson could use them.

“Do you know where this place is?” Larson asked.

“The grand temple. It is where I ruled, where the sacrifices of the lesser species were made so that I could grow in strength,” Paktul said. Larson could see it in his mind as his attunement with the stone grew. The dormant volcano was more active, and a river of lava flowed through the far corner of the temple, lighting and heating the great chamber where Larson had twice fought Tamkul’pa. Several lizardfolk warriors, bedecked in ornate golden armor and wielding a surprising variety of weapons guarded the throne where Paktul sat.

Paktul was enormous compared to even the largest of the assembled warriors. He wore no armor, but with the metallic gleam of his scales, Larson had no doubt that Paktul was just as well protected. An altar was placed near the lava flow and a hooded figure oversaw the sacrificing of various victims that had been gathered from the far corners of the world. As each was killed, a small fragment of their power flowed to Paktul. Somehow, Larson knew the sacrifices happened only once per year, and only one of each kind of victim could be offered to the lizardfolk deities.

Larson recognized the various species that were being sacrificed. The bodies of a gnoll, a human, an elf, and a halfling had already been offered up, and a group of priests was dragging over a huge ogre to be the next victim. This time, when the priest slammed home the sacrificial blade, Paktul felt nothing. The power he expected to receive from such a strong offering should have been noticed.

“Did you fail, priest, does the system no longer heed your call?” Paktul mocked. The head priest was a weak creature, barely qualifying as one of the folk, his kind only suited to servant tasks. This one thought too highly of himself, and Paktul made sure to reign him in whenever he had the chance. Larson could feel the distaste that Paktul had for the high priest, but he also knew that he couldn’t lay a hand on him, the law protected them even as they used their magic to protect the people. Larson was drawn deeper into the vision, his mind merging with Paktul so that he now watched from the great chieftain’s own eyes.

“No, great chief, the sacrifices grant as much power as they always have. You did not receive any power because I will no longer share what the dark gods that I follow offer. Their gifts are for me and the priesthood, those strong of mind, not the simpletons like yourself,” the high priest taunted.

“Fool, the laws do not protect you from direct threats. I will take your head and find a more malleable priest to wear your robes. Guards, kill him, kill Tamkul!” Paktul shouted. Obeying instantly, the six royal guards charged toward the priest, weapons glowing with enchantments as they activated their various combat skills.

“You are the fool Paktul, you do not deserve the ‘pa, the title of leadership. Your power is pathetic, for every portion I granted to you from the annual sacrifice, I kept twenty portions for myself. Behold my power, behold and despair for a fate worse than death is at hand!” Tamkul shouted, his oversized robes stretching and tearing as the bulk of the priest grew to monstrous proportions. It grew into the monster that Larson had first fought inside the dungeon, the monster that had been large enough to consume him.

The six royal guards were fearless, continuing their charge even though their target had changed from a frail priest to an oversized toad monster. Chanting quickly, Tamkul cast a spell that Larson was now familiar with, and several lizards the size of large dogs appeared, summoned to do Tamkul’s bidding. The guards hacked through them easily enough, pausing briefly to destroy the relatively weak summoned defenders. Tamkul only needed a moment to complete his next spell, a moment that the death of his summoned creatures purchased for him. Six bolts of black energy flew from his stubby fingers, lancing into the guards. Their golden armor flared briefly, trying to resist the magic assault. Paktul had spared no expense on the armor enchantments that protected those who protected him.

The dark energy sliced through the enchantments, the energy Tamkul had siphoned off over the years was immense and the power of his magic reflected it. With a clatter, all six royal guards fell dead. Paktul was not concerned over the loss of his guards, Paktul knew no fear. Rising to his feet, he drew a pair of swords from sheaths mounted on the back of his throne. These weapons also glowed with power, but once again, Tamkul was ready with a spell. A cloud of noxious black vapor surrounded Paktul. Paktul’s scales shone brightly as his body tried to fight the powerful magic, but even his great strength began to flag as the vapors entered every pore of his body, siphoning his life. Larson could feel the pain that Paktul felt, but he wasn’t giving up, the cloud followed him as he continued to shamble toward Tamkul.

Reaching the oversized priest, Paktul lashed out with his blades, activating one of his warrior abilities to land a dozen slashes from each weapon. Blubbery flesh was hewn off of Tamkul, but instead of shrieking in pain, the priest laughed and chanted even louder. The cloud around Paktul thickened and now, and green motes of energy now infused the black cloud. Pain flared over Paktul’s entire body, weakness causing the heavy blades to drop from his hands as the powerful chief fell to his knees.

“A swing of a blade will not avail you great chief, the wounds you inflict are healed by your own life force. You shall feed me as my magic rips every mote of power from you. When it is done, I shall feast on your corpse,” Tamkul boasted. Paktul could stand no more, his body collapsing on the stone floor. The floor was warm, picking up heat from the lava below, and should have felt comforting to one of the folk, but there was no comfort to be found as Tamkul’s magic stripped away his life force. Already the wounds he had inflicted on the priest were gone, and he could sense the greedy hunger as Tamkul siphoned the last of Paktul’s lifeforce.

“Now, I am Tamkul’pa, I am the leader over all the folk. All will serve or be consumed by my power,” Tamkul’pa shouted as the light faded from Paktul, the last image he saw was of Tamkul’pa’s tongue snaking toward his dying body.

“That was your end, betrayed by Tamkul’pa,” Larson said.

“Yes, the traitor ruled only briefly, though. And despite his claim, he didn’t siphon all my life. He crafted for me the orb you now hold, so that could spend eternity watching as he ruled in my stead. Unfortunately for my people, Tamkul’pa’s ambition and hunger were too great. I had some satisfaction watching as an army made up of many races breached the temple walls and slew Tamkul’pa and his followers. My people scattered to the corners of the land, and the great empire I had helped to forge was no more,” Paktul said. Through their link, Larson could feel the loss that the chieftain felt as his people went from being a great empire to simple tribal beings looked upon by the other races as violent beasts.

“That is a sad tale, but I’m not one to be swayed by a sad story, my question still stands, what can you offer my people if I let you live once more,” Larson said.

“I know you aren’t a creature of pity, nor would I stoop to such methods to sway you. What I sought to do was show you what had once been, what your ancestors had created. As a naga, you hold some blood of the people, all that walk or slither with scales are of the folk, so we are of the same line. As for what I can offer, I have no idea. While I allowed you to see my past, I also watched yours. You are not from this world and have been reborn here, you once walked on two legs, but now you are greater, now you are naga. For the system to bring you here and allow you to take up this form, you must have been worthy in your past life, at least in their eyes,” Paktul said.

“If you’ve seen my past then you know this place we’re in right now is not the real world. It’s a construct called a dungeon and while you can exist here, you can never be what you once were,” Larson said. He could feel Paktul sifting through his mind, but the chieftain’s reach was limited, and Larson found it easy to cut his access down to just the trips Larson made inside the dungeon.

“You slew him, Tamkul’pa. Good. But he will come back if you don’t set me free,” Paktul said.

“You’ve seen where you are, how the dungeon operates, and you’ve seen what happened to Tamkul’pa. If I install you in his place I want binding oaths from you, an oath that you will not invade the surface, and harm my people. In return I will allow others to enter here, others that you and your people can fight and conquer. If you fall, you will rise again and again. You will grow in power and expand your empire here in the dungeon. Can you agree to this?” Larson asked.

“I can, it is not my old life, but it is a good life. Battle, conquest, and a way to cheat death is the dream of any great ruler. Should you free me, I will not trouble your outside world, but all who enter here are mine to do with as I will,” Paktul countered. If someone entered the dungeon, Larson had no problem with Paktul and his minions doing their worst. Those that entered this place did so knowing the risks and potential rewards that entering the dungeon offered. Larson did have an idea, one that might help him if trouble arose from another source.

“In addition, if my island is threatened, you will leave the dungeon with all your host and fight for me, returning without argument when the battle is over,” Larson added.

“I am to be your vassal then, called forth to fight your battles? What if some enemies come here with the power to destroy me? You didn’t mention that, but someone else could replace me if they had an orb such as the one you hold,” Paktul asked.

“Just as I expect you to come to my aid, I shall help defend you if someone tries to replace you. You saw in my mind that I am many things, but most of all I am loyal to those that show loyalty to me. You’ll be part of my crew, and should anyone try to harm you, I will come to your aid, will all the swords and guns I can muster,” Larson said. He hadn’t thought of that, but if he could replace Tamkul’pa, then someone could theoretically do the same thing to Paktul.

“I think we have an agreement, let the system hear us and bind us to our oaths,” Paktul said. Larson could feel power swell inside the orb and in the air around him. It was more than just some effect of the dungeon, the system that ruled this world was listening, and waiting for Larson to make the bargain.

“The deal is cut, Paktul, and I’ll honor my side of the bargain. Welcome to your new home,” Larson said, finally dropping the orb onto the altar. Larson wasn’t sure what to expect, but instead of shattering when it hit the altar, the orb changed, growing into the great warrior that he had seen in the vision. Power flowed between Larson and Paktul, binding them to each other in ways neither of them expected. Paktul looked as shocked as his new body was created and the system added its power to enforce their oath.

Congratulations! You have installed Paktul as the master of the dungeon that will now be known as The Scaled Empire. Paktul now takes the title of Paktul’pa, the Overking. For as long as Paktul’pa rules the dungeon, the two of you will be bonded together. Sharing a common ancestry, the link between you two is more powerful than that of a normal dungeon core pact. The following boons and obligations are now active.

1. Call to Arms. Should an enemy attack your island, you may call upon Paktul’pa and his minions to help in your defense. This ability can only be activated once every 30 days. As time passes and your bond improves, this ability will evolve and become more powerful.

2. Dungeon Defender. Just as you can call upon Paktul’pa, he can call upon your forces to defend him in time of need. Paktul’pa will also be restricted to using this ability once every 30 days. Should you be away from the island when the call is made, a portal to the dungeon will open, allowing you entry into the throne room of the temple. Once you’ve completed your obligation, you will be sent back to where you were summoned from.

3. Unknown Boon. The bond between you and the dungeon is stronger than most, and it offers an unknown boon. When the requirements of the boon are met, this boon will be revealed.

“So, we are to be brothers of the scale, then. May it be as the system wills it,” Paktul’pa said.

“It looks that way, and we can both prosper from our association. Do you need anything before I head back to my world?” Larson asked, not quite sure if there was something else he needed to do down here.

“No, the system is instructing me as to how my new empire works. It will be some time before I am ready, perhaps you can keep the dungeon portal closed on your end for a time, to help me acclimate?” Paktul’pa asked.

“That seems reasonable. Oh, now that I’m thinking about it, if I need to come into the dungeon to visit, can you see to it that your minions don’t attack me on sight?” Larson asked. He wasn’t sure if he would need to visit, but the way the dungeon operated intrigued him and Larson would like to stop by occasionally and see how it was progressing, though he would rather do that without having to hack and shoot his way through the place.

“Yes, take this, if it is in your possession or the possession of one of your people, they will be treated as a friend,” Paktul’pa said, plucking off one of his scales and handing it to Larson. The system informed him how the scale worked.

Token of the Scaled Brother. Having this scale in your possession or your void storage will grant you safe passage through The Scaled Empire. You may also give it to one of your people to grant them safe passage if the need arises. The scale cannot be stolen and will not confer protection to anyone that means the dungeon harm.

“Good luck with your new home, Paktul’pa, rule it wisely,” Larson said.

“You as well, Larson, we both have an empire to build, don’t we,” Paktul’pa replied

He was right, but Larson’s empire wasn’t going to be limited to the inside of a dungeon. As a pirate lord, he would light the Free Isles aflame, but that was in the future. For the time being, he had to see about surviving long enough to grow his power. With a dungeon below his feet, ready to help defend him, Larson was a bit more confident that he could defend this place against the Free Isles or any other threat that might be out there.