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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx
Pars IV: Infernus
(g)
Saturday, May 12, 708 CR
Beyond the portal was another short corridor of
stone followed by another series of large pits in
which languished beasts of remarkable size and
girth. Charles averted his eyes from each pit and
from each cage, but the suffering seemed to exude
from each. He could hear no cries, but each step
tore at his heart, calling to his eyes, summoning
him to the edge to peer over and know misery. He
stumbled as he walked, drawn against his will to
sate a morbid curiosity that balked at understanding.
How could anyone be so cruel to everything that had life?
The deep silence was penetrated only by the soft
crush of stone beneath his paws and
Qan-af-årael's gentle boots. The pits slipped
past them like empty boats at a dock, miserable
from rain and fog. Charles tightened his grip on
his Sondeshike and finally stepped toward one,
the effervescent touch of the Åelf's fingers at
his shoulder bidding him come back. He slipped
beneath his protector's grasp and peered down
into the pit and ground his teeth together, hissing in sudden fury.
The pits in the chamber were large as if they
were meant to contain an elephant or young
dragon. Instead what he found was a small series
of chambers separated only by different sorts of
walls, some stone, others clay, and some wood, in
each of which trembled a naked human. Three of
the humans were covered with pustules bleeding a
greenish ooze, with the old man in the corner
also bleeding out of his nose and blinking
rheumy, yellow eyes up at the rat. The other
three did not appear to have succumbed to the
sickness yet but they were chained to the ground
so tightly that any motion caused them to bleed around their bonds.
Charles met the old man's gaze and shuddered when
he saw the man's lips moving. Rotted teeth,
blackened and loose hid just behind his lips. He
tried to speak, but the enchantments placed over
the pit prevented any sound, any glimmer of the
words from reaching the rat's ears.
The rat lashed his tail back and forth and
glowered. We have to do something! he hissed with a glance back at the Åelf.
There is nothing you can do. Come, Qan-af-årael
beckoned with an outstretched hand. This is the
task of those who dwell here. You can do nothing.
Charles seethed and peered back into the pit. The
old man was bleeding from his ears as well as his
nose. Horrified, he could only watch as the flesh
of the old man's head ruptured in place after
place, collapsing and then expanding as if some
great pump were operating within. Blood trickled
down out of his eyes, as the rictus of pain
stitched itself across his cheeks and cracking
his lips. It could have been only seconds that
the rat watched but if felt as if hours drained
past while the man's entire body fell apart. And
yet, even as his flesh sundered, sloughing off
like snow sliding from a roof, the life never
seemed to leave his eyes. Blood-streaked and
yellow from jaundice, nevertheless, a faint spark
of life remained there in even as they dangled
from his eyes sockets and bounced against the rotten flesh collapsing beneath.
Overwhelmed by nausea, and unable to look at the
other victims, Charles flung himself to the stone
path, one paw over his snout, the other against
his belly willing everything within to stay
there. His stomach protested, heaving, even as he
clenched tight his throat and eyes. Something
touched him softly between his ears and he felt a
warmth fill him. The heaving subsided, and his
nausea passed. His heart stilled and beat at a steady, unhurried pace.
He opened his eyes and stared into the pearl
gray-skinned and golden eyed face of
Qan-af-årael. There was an assurance there, a
confidence that called to him, beckoned him to
belief. Here was one in whom he could place his
trust. Here was one in whom he would always find rest.
When you are ready. The words were warm silk
and as satisfying as a long drought of cool milk.
Charles nodded and climbed to his paws, averting
his eyes from the pit, focusing instead upon the
Åelf. He kept one hand wrapped about his
Sondeshike, but otherwise looked only at his
protector and guide, walking at his side and doing his best to ignore all else.
They made their way through several more rooms
filled with larger and more complicated pits. No
longer did they just reside beneath them, but
seemed to tunnel around in a vast burrow network
like a gigantic colony into which the lord of
this realm poured his infectious experiments.
Twice they were forced to wait and hide while
pairs of Gardeners checked on the victims, but
both times they were fortunate not to be noticed by the monstrous insects.
Their fortune could not continue forever. In the
granite passageway between rooms Qan-af-årael
turned to him with a brow faintly furrowed with
concern and whispered, The Bridge is in the next
chamber. So is this realm's master.
Charles grimaced and nodded, trying not to let
his friend see the fear clenching in his heart.
How could they evade the author of the tortures
and disease riddling this place? The rat steeled
himself and rolled the Sondeshike back and forth
in his hand, short claws tapping the brass
ferrules at the each end. His snout fixed in a
moue. His tail curled at his ankles and his toe
claws dug into the stone beneath them. But even
though he tensed for a conflict beyond his
reckoning, the Åelf remained calm, radiating a
sense of peace and stillness as of an ageless forest or a vast sea.
The passage widened as they continued and opened
above them to the bitter sun much larger in the
sky as if it were plummeting to the earth. A wide
arched doorway stood open, and beyond a room
fashioned from dark stone, and arranged in three
tiers. The lowest tier had a pit of indeterminate
size in its middle with sloping walls down to a
small puddle of putrid brown water framed by
blooms of yellow mushrooms with oozing
phosphorescent caps. At either side of the pit
waited two of the Gardeners, their green
chitinous armor vaguely dimmed despite the
blazing sun. Their faces were turned downward
into the pit, and their antennae stilled as if
they too were quiescent until beckoned.
The second tier rose up a horse's height from the
first, and across this stretched a small garden
replete with wilting flowers, drooping vines,
stumpy trees riddled with blight, and a fungal
bloom infesting every inch as if it were the
ground from which all else sprang. Along either
wall at the side of the second tier were cabinets
filled with bottles and beakers and all other
sorts of containers brimming with liquids, stews,
and other concoctions of every hue and
consistency. Though each were sealed and through
the otherwise overwhelming stench of decay a
miasma of chemical pungency jabbed at the inside of his nostrils.
But what he saw above this filled him with a
terror beyond any horror of the nightmare forest
that had driven him nearly to beasthood. The
topmost tier was lined with shelves of what
appeared to be books each with bindings wider
than the rat was tall. These rose upward in
stacks that stretched beyond his sight. A vast
desk fashioned from bones from humans and animals
surmounted the tier, stretching at least twenty
feet wide and over six feet in height. Some of
the skulls could have been those of Keepers, but
it was impossible to tell if they were truly his
kin or mere beasts. A few were still coated in
rotting flesh and all of them were discolored
yellow or purple to varying degrees; not a one of them had been polished white.
Sitting at the desk and writing with a quill pen,
the strands of feather shriveled, was a tall
emaciated man with pale skin garbed in a
voluminous brown robe. His expression was cold
and detached, dour without appearing hostile or
contemptuous. His eyes were sunken so deep in his
skull that Charles could not see their color or
even if they had color at all. He had no hair
anywhere that the rat could see. The pale dome of
his head seemed blotchy but he could discern no
imperfection; pasty and white it seemed an
affectation rather than something natural. His
entire form shimmered with a febrile sheen of a
yellowish green mucus. Charles felt as if
stricken with palsy at the mere glimpse of him.
He did not lift his head from what he wrote, but
his voice coursed through the room, echoed off
the walls, and enclosed them as if they had been
grasped by a fist. It is fitting that a mortal
rat would peruse my work. You are untouched by
the variety of my experiments though I am not
unaware of your escape from my nurses. I am
always keenly interested in the progression of
disease through mortal kind and the effect it has
on your physical well-being, but also the
deterioration it causes in your mental and
spiritual health. Your presence here provides a
most advantageous opportunity. Though I am
certain you are unaware of the necessity of
control subjects in any experiment, allow me to
expound on the importunity of your arrival in my
demesnes and my intentions for your ultimate disposition.
But first you must pardon my inattention as the
chronicles of my work occupy my hands for but a
moment more. I am confident that you will not
proffer any argument at my necessary delay.
The two gardeners 'nurses' as Tallakath had
called them turned toward them both but made no
move to intercept them. The reverberating echo of
the daedra lord's voice held Charles immobile
more firmly than the insects could even with all
of their limbs. An iciness crept up his legs and
his grip on the Sondeshike faltered. Out of the
corner of his eye Charles could see the edges of
Qan-af-årael's lips moving though no sound escaped his tongue.
After a few seconds more the daedra lowered the
quill and folded his hands over the volume in
such a way that despite the angle Charles could
see them clearly. His fingers were long and bony,
the nails a discolored yellow at their tips, but
otherwise perfectly manicured. The flesh covering
his bones appeared cold as if he himself
possessed no life. And yet the daedra's words,
firm and unyielding, returned with an icy grip
that clenched deep into his heart. Charles felt
certain this being could snuff his life with an errant blink.
Tallakath studied him for only a moment, seeming
to pay no heed to the Åelf at his side. Your
method of travel into my demesnes is of no
interest to me nor is your intention to leave. In
any event that is no longer possible. Very
shortly I will provide you with a place that you
will remain so that you can offer an invaluable
service to the pursuit of knowledge I am
undertaking and which occupies my time. It is the
work of generations and aeons but it is work of
inestimable value and numerous applications.
Charles had an image of himself, fully disrobed
and cast into one of the stone pits he'd
witnessed, shivering in the bitter cold shade,
and blistering in the unforgiving fire of the
sun. And all the while suffering from the
terrible consumption of disease as something
devoured his flesh and riddled him with endless
agony. All to satisfy this daedra's curiosity and
nothing more. He would become a data point in one
of those volumes, a curiosity dictating further
experiments to be unleashed on his brethren in
Metamor at the first opportunity.
Tallakath's lips did not even offer him the
suggestion of a cruel smile. But before that you
can assist me in expanding the wealth of
knowledge concerning the mental anguish that
accrues to mortal-kind when witness to suffering.
You have seen many in this place who are in
various stages of disease, consumption, and
degradation. As a mortal you are naturally
equipped with a degree of empathy that allows you
to vicariously share in the sufferings of others;
I noted this while you witnessed my nurses at
their tasks. I am keenly interested in sampling
that voyeuristic pain. Please, in detail and with
complete honesty, provide for me an account of
the anguish you experienced in your soul. Bony
shoulders rose and fell negligently beneath his
robes. Also, quickened by a live, beating heart
and flesh, you offer a rare opportunity to
examine the effects of my research. I have long
sought to understand how the illnesses I initiate
here can be transferred to a living host, which
requires a living host such as yourself. He
tapped the ragged end of the quill pen against
his lips as if in thought. And that will allow
me to sicken, and remove, a tool of my sister by
which you came into this realm. The Dreamers have
long thwarted my nurses when they seek to find
mortals wandering her realm to aid in my work.
The icy grip that heretofore rooted him in place
seemed to withdraw from him. Charles blinked
several times as he tried to understand how that
could be and what he was being asked to do. The
Gardeners with their multifaceted eyes,
glimmering black like diseased fish eggs, stepped
closer, rubbing their arms against one another in
a discordant hum. Qan-af-årael did not move apart
from his lips which framed soundless words. The
rat took a deep breath and stood as tall as he
could. One paw traced the sign of the Yew and
with a defiant stammer he said, You will learn
nothing from me! I deny you, and in Eli's name I confound you!
The ancient scientist scoffed with a lazy
chuckle. Your contumacious reply is hardly
unexpected. Tallakath waved one hand before
resting it back on its twin. Nor is it entirely
as uninformative as you have no doubt intended it
to be. By demonstrating a degree of resistance
you also demonstrate that the suffering you have
witnessed during your journey has not caused a
level of anguish requisite to inducing
compliance. However, it does imply that the
suffering you have seen has wounded you. You are
affronted by it; your personal sense of justice
has been violated by it. What anguish you did
experience has hardened you to a degree so that
in some aspects you are no longer concerned for
your physical well-being. Yet as you did not come
to this chamber to challenge me under the
misguided assumption that you could bring what
transpires in my demesnes to an end it is clear
to me that you have not been disturbed to the
point of seeking to right a perceived a wrong.
This leads to one of three possibilities
regarding the initial state of your character
which will provide the necessary baseline for my
subsequent analysis. Either you are a callous
individual for whom the sufferings of others
provides only a minor degree of discomfort, or
you have hardened yourself against the sufferings
of others in order to accomplish some other goal
which is more important to you than the
well-being of your fellow kind, or lastly you
have hidden away your empathic reactions in order
to avoid the emotional instability engendered by
them for the purpose of escaping this place.
The interesting question at this time is which
of these three will be the true response you will
choose. In order to discern that it is necessary
to continue my experiments. Now that I have you
within my presence I am capable of directly
noting your reactions to various stimuli. Given
what I know of your travels through my demesnes
the first possibility, that of a callous spirit
bereft of all but a meager empathy appears the
least likely and so unless your reactions
indicate otherwise we can dismiss this for the
moment and focus instead on gauging whether you
have steeled yourself or hidden yourself in the face of suffering.
Charles flicked wide his Sondeshike, and began
twirling it over and over in his paws. What else
did he have left but bravado? If not this he
truly should be a rat in mind and body. If you
don't want two more of your gardeners to die
you'll keep them away from us both. I warn you I
will not hold back if you do not.
The emaciated figure picked up his quill and
jotted something in the volume resting upon the
desk of bone. An intriguing reaction. I have not
yet provided any stimuli of suffering to gauge
your internal state and yet you react with
hostility. A curious reaction given that at
present I am not interested in bringing you to
any physical harm. His fingers splayed toward
the insectile servitors, I am worried not of
their fate, I have more. As I previously noted I
am interested in your reactions as a control
subject at this time. Your experiences will
expand the horizons of knowledge and contribute
to our understanding of the human spirit and
enable me to expand my work more directly through
your somnolent flesh while it is still quickened
with Life. While I can glean the truth from
anything you say and any reaction you provide, it
is simpler if you would convey your internal
state without useless posturing or threats you lack the ability to consummate.
Charles kept spinning his Sondeshike, focusing
all of his fearful trembling into his tail to
keep it from his snout. His whiskers twitched
anyway as the Gardeners shifted back and forth,
their mandibles rubbing over one another and dripping.
Tallakath's musings continued as if silence were
unnatural for him; and yet, though his voice
enclosed them in the room and drove out all
thoughts from their minds, it never raised above
a conversational din, nor seemed emotional in any
way. Cool, detached, and without empathy, it
chilled the rat's limbs anew. Perhaps it may
help ease the transmission of your valuable data
if I were to describe my intended experiment once
I no longer have need of you as a control
subject. The souls which I usually have at my
disposal react somewhat differently to the
various contagions I prepare for use on the
mortal plane than a mortal such as yourself
would. They are not capable of death as you are,
merely of being drained of all useful essence.
Your ability to die your living flesh, to be
precise, as I will retain the spirit wrestled
from it provides a valuable data point in my
studies, as well the progress of that contagion
through the mortal realm you have created such a
convenient bridge to by coming here, to my very
workroom. By allowing a disease to run its course
very near to completion in you I will be able to
better determine the final stages of the
disease's development before expiration. And if I
am careful enough in the application of
restorative measures I will be able to obtain
valuable data on the progression of not just one
but many different diseases, and perhaps even
begin to understand the interplay of multiple
active diseases in your system. The fact that
your human physiognomy has been supplemented with
that of a rodent will not be an impediment to my
investigations as there is a great deal of
similarity between the two. The points of
convergence far outweigh those that diverge;
there will be little issue of your rodent nature
compromising the value of any data I obtain.
Do you have any thoughts on my proposal? As the
host for the development of pathogens I am keenly
interested in understanding your perspective on
the experience and not just the physiological
changes that will naturally occur during the
course of any disease's progression. Please, be honest in your appraisal.
With each question the lord of pestilence seemed
to withdraw his hold on the rat. He could take
him and break him at any time and he wanted
Charles to know it. Knowing it might be his last
moment, Charles snorted, casting a quick furtive
glance at the Åelf whose eyes had narrowed to
slits. His pearl-gray body seemed rigid yet soft,
as if it were waiting. His gaze pierced the edge
of the pit toward the brown pool below.
He turned back to the daedra lord and spun his
Sondeshike faster. You like to hear yourself
talk don't you? Well keep talking if you wish!
You will learn nothing from me, nor through me!
With a lift of the spinning shaft he struck
downward, ringing the ferrules upon the stone at
his feet with a scintillating bell-like note that
reverberated in his ears even as the shaft
continued it humming revolutions. The only words
you will have from me are contempt!
Your intransigence is not unexpected, Tallakath
replied without any change in emotion. Despite
Charles' bravado, he felt a terrible weight in
the daedra's words, one wearing heavily on his
soul. He could not help but remember all of the
people and beasts he had seen in the pits, left
to wallow in their own excrement and covered with
sores of such excruciating pain that to even move
was to invite mind-rending agony. Seeing as
revealing my intentions for you has not secured
your cooperation I will proceed with my original
intent of determining a baseline for your spiritual and mental health.
He made no motion. From his place behind the desk
of skulls and bones the lord of pestilence and
plague vanished, to appear on the second tier in
that same moment. He had in one hand a long, thin
blade the likes of which Charles had seen in a
healer's hands, only longer and larger, intended
to harm rather than heal. In the other was a
carved human leg bone inscribed with green script
of no language Charles knew. There are certain
elements of both physical contagion and magical
inducement I will demonstrate that I might elicit
a response to indicate your current state. Your
guardian has prepared while my attention was
focused but I cannot allow its work to be
completed, nor its spirit to persist though it
can offer me no insights. Tallakath's wrist
flicked toward Qan-af-årael, the edge of the
blade in his grasp gleaming a pestilent hue. It
will be eliminated, for it can no longer protect you, mortal.
The Gardeners advanced on Qan-af-årael who
remained where he stood for only a second more.
His voice was quiet but sure, and with simple
assurance murmured, It is done. He spread his
arms wide and a fiery blue light erupted from
both palms to bathe the Gardeners. Chittering
screams erupted from both as their armor seared
away, arms flailing and abdomens erupting in a
vile yellow froth. Bilious and filthy, the mucus
smeared across the wall up to the second tier and
ringed the outside of the pit as the two
Gardeners crumpled into writhing piles of flailing limbs.
Into the pool!Qan-af-årael pushed the rat
forward. While Tallakath watched with the same
dour expression he had borne on their arrival,
rat and Åelf raced down the sloped wall into the
pit. Charles held his Sondeshike tightly at his
side and took a deep breath, narrowing his eyes
shut as he jumped into the pool, sinking quickly into a limitless depth beyond.
As they disappeared within, his tail whipping
over his head, he heard the master of that vile
realm murmur, So that was your secret purpose.
Hardened against suffering... And then his head
plunged beneath the slick surface and all went black.
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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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