Tunnel Rat

Chapter 51: Dreams of the past

Alta-Viator dreamed again. Over and over for eternity. The same dream. The last dream.

Hot-rock parted as he shot through the upper deeps. The semi-molten rocks obeying his will and parting as he shot rapidly past. Up and up, past the limits of the deeps with their bland harvest of nutrients and into the lower-crust with its rich veins of tasy food hidden in the not-food.

It could eat the not-food, but it took so much to sustain him that he didn't bother. He didn't leave the comfortable heat of the depths to dine on crap. He wanted the chewy-goodness of Orichalcum or the crunchy-sweetness of Iridium. Maybe the stringy-sharp taste of Deep Copper? Yes! That is what he wanted. It had been ages since it had tasted the Deep Copper. Silly name for something that only appeared so high up in the lower-crust.

The rock of the upper crust was growing stupid. It no longer moved aside when he flexed his will. But if it was stupid, it was also more solid. Powerful claws reached into the rock, and his will drove the muscles of his form to first crack the rock and then move it aside from his passage. Alta-Viator shot upwards, the cracks forming above him as he ascended, finally reaching into the heights where the veins of the Deep Copper ran. The taste was as he remembered; a sharp and acidic taste, the texture stringy but not too chewey. It went down easily and Alta-Viator went looking for more.

Then a strange vibration came to it. The hardened scales of his carapace picking up the slight vibration as something else moved in the rock. For a brief instance, thoughts of his brethren came to him. Volax-Repat who had left the depths to challenge the eels in the void. Calidum-Soror who ever sought the deepest depths and the hottest fires. So many had been lost in the long, long eons since their birth. He wondered where their bones lay?

But this wasn't one of his kin. That became quickly apparent as the stench of it came to him. An Eel! An Eel dared delve into the rock! Not their place! Eels had the live-water and live-air. This one had dared burrow and delve where no Eel should ever go. His will forged ahead of him, finding a path. His claws cracked the rock and he raced upward towards the Eel!

Stronger and stronger the stench hit him. A mix of Eel and Deep Copper. This wasn't a true Eel, but a degenerate spawning of some sort. Had Eels rutted with the Elemental Princes? It didn't matter, it would be dead shortly.

The Eel felt him coming and fled, but it was slow. Where he cracked the rock asunder and moved through the shattered pieces, the Eel was moving through large, empty caverns. He gained rapidly and in a vast cavern the Eel turned to fight. She was degenerate indeed. No wings would lift her into the live-air. No claws would help her crack the rock. Like the youngling eels from the dead-water, She had no limbs, just a long sinuous body the color of deep copper.

Empress Salasha? She was simply a copper skinned snake. And he could tell that was why she was here. She had been eating the Deep Copper. She would regret coming and stealing his food.

Alta-Viator advanced slowly, taunting the Eel. He was larger, with eight rending-claws and a deadly maw full of rock-chewing teeth. The Eel had only her fangs, dripping with some white venom that burned the rock as She hissed. Alta-Viator did not fear the fangs or the venom. His scales could not be punctured by such a puny Eel.

The fight had lasted for days. Alta-Viator carved chunks from Salasha's body, the coppery flesh sinking into the rock while the Eel constantly tried to absorb Deep Copper from the ore around them to heal herself.

Forced to fight against an older and more powerful opponent, she played for time and used the only weapon she truly had. Time and again she struck at the same spot on Alta-Viators shoulder until finally a crack appeared in the scale. There after her poison could work its way inward, doing constant damage as its acidic properties dissolved softer muscle and organs, and poisoned the blood.

It didn't save the Eel, her poison wasn't enough to quickly deal with her foe. Eventually she was done, her body torn into smaller and smaller pieces, her fangs broken, and her poison spent. Alta-Viators roared his triumph and then rested.

Such a great mistake. Had he immediately dived for the depths, the heat of the earth could have burned the poison from him and healed him. And even if he had died, his body would be consumed and he could start the cycle again. Now, neither of those was an option. After some period of time Alta-Viators regained his senses to find his body was much worse than before. He had not healed, and the poison was killing him. The earth would not obey his will. His claws did not have the strength to crack it asunder. He had slain the Eel, but now his spirit was trapped in this dying shell.

It took years to finally die, paralyzed and trapped in the rock. And even death didn't end his imprisonment. Over the next century the poison continued to eat away at his body. Each small bit becoming an ooze like creature that scoured his flesh from his bones. When after a thousand years there was nothing left for his spirit to cling to but bones, the oozes went looking for other food, spreading into the nearby caves.

Over and over his spirit relived its last great battle, hoping to move on. It barely noticed the changes as one mutant ooze began to eat the others. It didn't care at all when the Ever-pudding proclaimed itself ruler of the cavern he had become. Only when the first little eel emerged from the nearby copper ore did his spirit react. Despair took him. His foe had survived.

He felt her as the little princess moved through the ore that had been her mother's body, consuming it and growing. She encouraged other eels to come forth and serve her. Slowly they spread throughout the area around his hollow corpse. Generation after generation passed. Each time a descendent of Salasha would be born and eat her mother. She grew larger each time, consuming more and more of the copper ore around her, gaining power.

Time passed. His spirit awoke as the final incarnation of Princess Salasha was born. This one would birth a Queen, and the queen would birth an Empress. And the Eel would be reborn. And he could do nothing.

Almost nothing...

He felt it when a little chip of bone scurried through the caves. Could it be one of the creations of Magna-Stultas? That one was always sticking parts of himself into the little creatures to make pets out of them. Whatever this was, it began stealing the Eels food and taking it away. This didn't last long. The Eel killed it and grew stronger. Claiming victory on even such a small chip made it stronger. More chips came...or the same chip? It much have a very short cycle to return so quickly. Each time it died. Each time Salasha grew stronger. Her victory was inevitable.

Or was it? Something had nudged his spirit. The chip had found its way to him. Its bones touch his. The runes flowed. It was a weak little chip, with pitiful claws. But such a strong will! And great potential for disaster. He would do what he could. If the chip died again to the Eel, all was lost, she would take his power. Would that matter?

What gifts to give? It was so small! He rummaged through its spirit finding indeed, that it was a lost pet of Magna-Stultas. More, it had met Volat-Repax! Hope surged. He gave it his claws! It was the best he could do with so little spirit left.

Spent, the spirit in the bones slept, and began again to dream of its last days.

Milo awoke. He instantly knew something was different. His hands were covered in intricate bone plates that covered him from pointed claws up to his elbows. He flexed and felt no restriction. He hands were as nimble as ever, but they felt much stronger. Looking down, he saw that the same had happened to his feet and shins.

Looking further he could see the runes moving in the bones. Reaching out to touch the wall, he could feel it as if his hands were bare. The bone was part of him. And he knew where it had come from. He had shared the endless dream of Alta-Viator and felt his despair. He wished he could help...

You have accepted the quest: Slay Queen Salasha and any of her progeny.

You must find a way to kill the Queen of the Copperheads and prevent her from passing her power to another generation. F

Failure: Probably you get eaten and turned into snake shit. Alta-Viator is left in eternal despair.

Your dwarf friends don't do so good either. Oh, and all the people above that find themselves at war with a reborn Empress. A hungry Empress.

Victory: Who knows? Things aren't so black and white down here

You have been given a mighty gift! Alta-Viator has gifted you his claws!

You are too weak to know the full extent of this gift. You must train your will. But for now...

Your puny little claws have become: Claws of Alta-Viator

60%+5%xRank to hit. Damage: 60+5xSTR+5xRank. Metal or Stone armor is discounted and will be destroyed partially each time you hit.

You may make a block with your hands or forearms.

You have gained the skill: Block 20%+DEXx5+Rankx5. You will take Weapon Damage -100.

Climbing on Rock, earth, or worked stone is trivial for you. You claws will grip the rock with ease and you cannot fall.

Milo felt an urgency to get moving. He needed to get back up to the Engineer and see about getting that trap finished. And he needed to set up his idea for getting rid of the Ever-Pudding. So much to do.

Hi!

How are things going? Hope you're having a great time down there!

I finally remembered why I needed you. Come see me when convenient. And I mean for me, not you. I'll give you a couple of days. I have a job for you.

KULAG!

Your buddy,

Squint

Milo had ducked as a bat flew at his head, and then dropped a small roll of paper before disappearing. He unrolled the message and slapped his forehead. Time to get to work.

He climbed out of the hollow rib, and looked around. Things had changed. No bucket was hanging down from the shaft, and the drill was missing as well. Below, Ooblipimux heaved back and forth, pseudopods forming and layering on each other as it tried to create a pile high enough to reach the shaft again. The small island of Agent Orange was gone.

Milo reached up and grasped the rock. His claws actually sunk into it. He could feel that he was well anchored. Swinging up, he began to crawl across the ceiling of the cave like some poor, five-legged spider. Even his tail was improved. When he reached out to wrap it around a stalagmite, it too felt completely anchored to the stone. The trip to the shaft up took only minutes.

The shaft was empty. He was going to have to climb all the way up using his claws! What had happened? Step by step, he began climbing the shaft. Then he began moving faster and faster. His tail pushed against the far wall, giving him balance. Every foothold or handhold was secure. He scuttled up the thousand feet of shaft at a slow run.

He emerged to chaos. There was broken machinery everywhere and the lesser brethren were using anything that wasn't bolted down to build barricades in doorways. One of them saw him and yelled. Others heard and came over to him, clustering around. They yelled all at once, gibberish assaulting him in their urgency.

"One at a time. One at a time."

They quieted and then took him quite literally, each one making a statement.

"Gone so long, assumed dead."

"Missing for days, slacker!"

"SNAKE!"

"Engineer needs you, everyone needs you!"

"Find Milo! But Milo doesn't come up!"

"SNAKE! SNAKESNAKESNAKE! SNAKE at the door!

"Boom! No door!"

"Snake eating things. Bad Snake!"

"Engineer down. Everyone down. We in charge."

"WE DOOMED!"