06-03-2014, 08:32 AM
Deeper into the earth Armande dropped. Sometimes it was through naturally collapsed holes. Others were man-made ramps molded from rotted plywood and crude spikes pounded into the walls.
He passed other passages, some too narrow to accommodate his frame. They plunged like wormholes away from corners or opened from above. A dozen different creatures came to mind that might make use of such thoroughfares, but only a few preferred the dank humidity of the subterranean underground. The slithering Naga, for one, and the cherufe, for another. Although of the two potential burrowers, the Atharim were aware of solely the former in Moscow. The second, the reptilian beast, were only rumored to thrive in places outside their natural, volcanic habitats. Yet Armande proceeded warily through the tunnels, and set sharp eyes along the shadows, seeking evidence of their slithering tracks. They left behind a swathe of slime like giant slugs. God forbid if he found a bundle of eggs.
Soon, the descent took him away from the clouded stank of close-quarters human populations. These mid-levels which he wagered began about six floors from the surface, were thinned of people. It would be hard to sustain life down here, constantly retracing one's steps to the surface to pass through danger and ilk only to return and repeat day after day. It would take elaborate systems powered by clean water and electricity to grow a source of food. No, nobody could remain on these midlevels for long. Such was why he encountered only a few crumpled bodies in the corners. Those that did not move at his passage he checked for signs of the supernatural. Only one did his blade exterminate: a starving dreyken, otherwise injured, but whose body was consuming itself. Armande would take no chance that it would regenerate itself. It hissed and clutched at him when he came close, but a flash of steel, the thump of a head severed from its body, and the hissing stopped.
Armande continued onward, noting signs of life, mapping his way as he went. The Underground was the final frontier for the Atharim, largely unexplored, yet teeming with vermin.
Such was why when he came upon a figure in the distance that his suspicion immediately rankled. The individual was one among the vermin that stood out. He was darkly attired and yet moved as though he stood in the limelight. He strode purposefully toward a goal, though Armande did not know what it was he sought.
"You there," Armande called out, voice firm and commanding, yet shadowed by sagely wisdom. "What dark business takes you toward the center of the earth?" Armande's weapons remained put away. The man would be given the benefit of the doubt, for now, but Armande would never walk away from a creature that needed sent to slaughter.
Edited by Regus, Jun 3 2014, 08:33 AM.
He passed other passages, some too narrow to accommodate his frame. They plunged like wormholes away from corners or opened from above. A dozen different creatures came to mind that might make use of such thoroughfares, but only a few preferred the dank humidity of the subterranean underground. The slithering Naga, for one, and the cherufe, for another. Although of the two potential burrowers, the Atharim were aware of solely the former in Moscow. The second, the reptilian beast, were only rumored to thrive in places outside their natural, volcanic habitats. Yet Armande proceeded warily through the tunnels, and set sharp eyes along the shadows, seeking evidence of their slithering tracks. They left behind a swathe of slime like giant slugs. God forbid if he found a bundle of eggs.
Soon, the descent took him away from the clouded stank of close-quarters human populations. These mid-levels which he wagered began about six floors from the surface, were thinned of people. It would be hard to sustain life down here, constantly retracing one's steps to the surface to pass through danger and ilk only to return and repeat day after day. It would take elaborate systems powered by clean water and electricity to grow a source of food. No, nobody could remain on these midlevels for long. Such was why he encountered only a few crumpled bodies in the corners. Those that did not move at his passage he checked for signs of the supernatural. Only one did his blade exterminate: a starving dreyken, otherwise injured, but whose body was consuming itself. Armande would take no chance that it would regenerate itself. It hissed and clutched at him when he came close, but a flash of steel, the thump of a head severed from its body, and the hissing stopped.
Armande continued onward, noting signs of life, mapping his way as he went. The Underground was the final frontier for the Atharim, largely unexplored, yet teeming with vermin.
Such was why when he came upon a figure in the distance that his suspicion immediately rankled. The individual was one among the vermin that stood out. He was darkly attired and yet moved as though he stood in the limelight. He strode purposefully toward a goal, though Armande did not know what it was he sought.
"You there," Armande called out, voice firm and commanding, yet shadowed by sagely wisdom. "What dark business takes you toward the center of the earth?" Armande's weapons remained put away. The man would be given the benefit of the doubt, for now, but Armande would never walk away from a creature that needed sent to slaughter.
Edited by Regus, Jun 3 2014, 08:33 AM.