“Why are largos anywhere?” He mumbled through his breather. Then more forcefully, “To bring a prize back home. What was a Prophet of the Krait doing so far away from the safety of your cities?”
This close, the pulsing blue glow in the large krait’s eyes unnerved Marazan. They held some power he did not wish to experience further. He also realised he had lost track of his apprentice. He could only hope she would not do anything rash.
The captain seemed to deliberate for a moment, while the other guards had slowly surrounded the largos master. “The Dragon wishes servitude from all that live in its realm. As its servants, we fulfil its wishes.” A Dragon Champion. Marazan had heard of them from the surface, beings infused with the baleful power of an Elder Dragon. By all accounts, they were horrifying opponents and spread destruction and ruin wherever they went. His presence here could only spell disaster for the Sea of Sorrows and all who dwell on its shores.
“But your presence here changes little. I am finished here.” With that, the champion thrust the strange weapon forward. Marazan tensed, preparing to dodge whatever would be fired at him. He had fought enough spellslingers in his time. Nothing came. But something had definitely happened, as the fish in the cave all abandoned whatever they were doing and swam straight for him. None of them were dangerous to him in any way, and all of them should be skittish around anything his size. A swift sword-stroke sent one blue fish floating away, blood pouring from its severed fin, but the fatality did not deter the rest. They swam around him, biting with blunt teeth and dashing their small bodies against him. They did no harm, but made it nearly impossible to move or do anything against the advancing krait.
Then, as suddenly as they had attacked, the fish scattered, fleeing from the large predator they had found themselves next to. 2 krait guards stabbed with their spears as the shoal vanished, but Marazan managed to parry and evade, putting a more comfortable distance between himself and their spears. But only a few of the guards were still advancing on him. Most of them were turning around to help the champion as his right hand slowly floated away in a cloud of blood. Oinula al’Fahrima stood 2 spear-lengths away from the champion, holding the eel-staff in her right hand while her left held a bloodied blade.
“Good work, Master. I knew you could be relied on to take all the attention for yourself.” His protégé stood confidently apart from all the other beings in the cave, holding her prize. Marazan could not be sure of the weapon’s full capabilities, and had no great wish to experience them firsthand. Whatever they were, a Dragon Champion wanted hold of them.