Tiny Dungeon

Geckodo threw the bound form of another of the, what he had begun to call, rat-men off to the side and walked boldly into the most ramshackle slum he had ever seen. Not even at the lowest point of his people had they dwelled like this. A boulder provided the backdrop of the small tribal structures but what interested Geckodo was the sprawling nature of the ‘buildings’. They were fashioned from sticks, moss, mud, and grass. Pretty much anything the rat-men could get their paws on.

There was a central open area but for the most part, the slum had a claustrophobic feel to it, like a forest of its own. The boulder was situated on the edge of the water and Geckodo could see that the slum extended a little ways out into the shallows of the pond. How it floated he couldn’t even hazard a guess but he didn’t have time for an in-depth study of the rat-men’s home. As soon as he entered the main clearing they were gathering in such numbers that he blinked in surprise.

He had already disposed of and then captured a good fifty or so just on his way here and yet there were almost four times that many arrayed against him. They made the slum appear to be alive like some slumbering beast of mud, sticks, and fur. He noticed one rat-man in particular high up near the boulder where the slum acted like a cresting wave, building on itself until it reached about halfway up the four-foot stone edifice.

The old rat-man stood hunched over clutching a stick with a small bird’s skull attached to the top. ‘Perhaps a shaman of some kind,’ Geckodo mused before continuing his march forward. As if his approach was a signal the rat-men charged in one singular mass. Geckodo didn’t break his stride even as an aura of blood-red power began to build around him. His muscles and sinews rippled with enhanced strength but the way he stopped the horde had nothing to do with physicality.

The Risen’s eyes flickered before settling into red vertical and horizontal slits set into ultra-white orbs. They glowed brightly as his aura flared outward and into the oncoming horde. KNEEL, he mentally commanded.

The result was immediate. The rat-men slammed into the ground on their knees as he invaded their minds and influenced their blood. With a flick of his hands, they parted in the middle and he walked through them to reach the shaman, who clutched at his staff to keep himself standing.

“Let us have a conversation, you and I,” Geckodo said snapping one of his clawed hands to release the other rat-men who collapsed fully onto the ground trying to recover from the pressure he had put them under. The shaman staggered himself but recovered admirably though he ended up collapsing into a sitting position regardless. Geckodo lowered himself onto his haunches to get closer to the rat-man’s level. His powerful paws he laid across his lap, clasping his pawed hands together even as he looked out over the pond and the stunned creatures behind him.

“I’ve done this before…claimed Psuedo-Sapients for a master.” Geckodo’s voice was calm even as he projected his words in thought-speak so that the rat-man could understand him. “Now I find myself doing so for a much more worthy being and in an entirely different way. He actually told me to do it without killing most of you.” The Risen scoffed even as he continued. “My old master would have wished to have your blood bathe his altars so that in the deep recesses of your racial consciousness you would have no recourse but to obey.”

“Then he would give enough Aether and Potential to bring you to full Sapience but only that much. The rest you would have to earn through bloody participation in his wars.” At this, Geckodo turned to the shaman to find him watching with wide curious eyes. The fear had largely faded as he had spoken and knowledge flowed along the thought-bridge Geckodo had built between them. There was still caution and Geckodo thought that was wise considering what he had to say next.

“In my new master’s kingdom, there is still war but it is war of the natural sort. You must fight for a high position, fight to draw his gaze and his blessing.” He thought he felt the moment the rat-man understood but felt the need to speak it all the same. “So you realize therefore that I cannot fail. This is my redemption, my penance. I WILL bring you into the fold. My master wishes it to be done peacefully and so I offer you this chance. One chance.”

“Submit.” Geckodo watched as the shaman drew in a shuttering breath as the meaning of the word hit him. It was more than a word, it was a concept; one that the rat-man had felt before. “You will never become more, your people will never become more, without a god to guide them. Your Potential will dry up and the limits of your destiny will be reached unless you tie yourself to something ever-growing. Someone. Form a Covenant with my god and master and he will provide your people with the opportunity to grow.”

The Risen rose to his full height and surveyed the gathered rat-men. They glared back at him defiantly but their eyes also flicked to their shaman who contemplated Geckodo’s words and wrestled with their meaning. They were not yet Sapient but they were as close as they could be without the final push. The fact that the old Archmage must have pushed them right to that edge without pushing them over, filled Geckodo with relief. Relief in the fact that the old gods would not be able to claim a new sapient race. Relief in the fact that he had never sought to challenge the Archmage while he yet lived.

The shaman squeaked his answer and Geckodo felt the godsblood respond. He sliced his palm and let the blood flow from it like a stream. His wound closed but still the blood multiplied until a pool hovered before him. He levitated the pool into the air and began to pray. “In your name Valterra Unok’Davaas, I claim these people for your halls. May they be found worthy of your gifts and Potential. I pray you look upon them with favor.”

With a clap of his hands, the blood splattered into hundreds of droplets that fell like a scarlet rain. Each drop fell unerringly onto the heads of rat-men even as they stared awestruck at the display of power. As soon as it did so Geckodo felt Divine Potential flood through him and into the blood he had just shared. At once the gathered rat-men began to glow and Geckodo knew his job was almost done. Turning to the shaman he found him glowing as well. Content to wait for the information he needed Geckodo sat back on his haunches once more. Even as he did so he heard his master’s voice boom out over the land.

“I Name you The Rakali and I welcome you into my halls.”