Xanthippe (Chapter 11)

Template:Xanthippe nav Xanthippe had been sleeping inside one of Warriv's carts, on a bundle of carpets. There was no room at the inn. When she woke up the next morning, there was something else in the cart with her; a big poleaxe, with a note.

"Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

You are malicious,

Don't deny that it's true!

Since you're having so many problems with your mercenaries, this little number should help you bring out the malice in them! The runes are Ith, El, and Eth; you'll find them in your luggage. Hugs and kisses, The Mule."

Of all the cheek! Sneaking into her bedroom at night, going through her stuff, giving her advice about combat. Like he knew anything! If she ever found the guy, Xanthippe would beat that mule to a pulp. Grumbling, she went through her luggage, and found runes, an El she already had and two unfamiliar ones. When she put them in the poleaxe, it turned black. Ah, those runes create a field whose vibratory essence is in tune with raw chaos. The weapon was now incompatible with any kind of order, which would make it useful for destroying opponent's bodies. Even holding it hurt. Kasim liked it, though; he was made of strong stuff. Hopefully, strong enough.

Out in the field, the poleaxe proved very effective. One neat trick was to slice across the skins of the better armored opponents, removing the armor. It was especially malicious since demon armor tends to be a part of their bodies. Beyond the oasis, Xanthippe and Kasim moved into a dead city; more like a city of the dead, there were so many zombies wandering around. Shortly after they entered the city, a huge black blot covered the sun, and everything went dark and very cold.

Jerhyn was outside his palace. "Lord Jerhyn, what the hell is going on?"

"Prophetic words, I fear," Jerhyn said. He looked even more nervous. "My astrologers did not predict this eclipse. We must seek out Drognan's council immediately."

Not that. Anything but that. "Surely, you have some idea of the cause of this?"

"There is a possibility. Out in the desert, near an abandoned city, is a temple where Claw Vipers worship foul gods. They are black-hearted beasts, enemies of all humanity, and I am sure they would make alliances with demonkind at any opportunity. Unlike natural reptiles, they are fond of cold and darkness, which is why they dwell far under the desert sands, and do not venture out in the heat of daylight."

Xanthippe had heard all kinds of stories about Claw Vipers. Most of them were meant to frighten her and keep her inside at night. "Are there any tombs in their temple?"

"Long ago, a group of abjurers allied themselves with the Claw Vipers. For some time, my father had an artifact of that era, a suit of armor called 'Skin of the Vipermagi,' before it was stolen. I believe they were entombed there, with their servants."

Tal Rasha would not be among them. Not in the Viper temple. But the temple might be useful for something else, after it had been cleared. "Very well, Lord Jerhyn. Maybe the city craftspeople can find a use for snakeskin."

The snake temple lay beyond the dead city. Xanthippe could tell it was the right one by the heroically scaled statues of snake-men flanking the entrance. Their beetling brows and exaggerated pectoral development were obviously meant to intimidate; nothing is more pathetic than someone trying to be intimidating. They were greeted by a group of slithery bastards and a couple of greater mummies right inside the entrance. The mummies, with their crowds of servant skeletons, were annoying, but the Claw Vipers were hardly the stuff of nightmares. Deeper in the temple, some cousins of theirs, Salamanders, were much more of a threat. They moved very fast, and seemed to suck heat out of your body with their touch.

In the deepest part of the temple, an altar had been built and consecrated with human blood. The people were hanging from the walls, and the chamber was filled with mummies, skeletons, and the leader of the Claw Vipers: Fangskin, a name everyone from the desert knew. He was evil, and tough, and... lightning enchanted. Damn. Xanthippe couldn't bear to say goodbye to Kasim; she just went to kill mummies in another part of the room. Blades swung, lightning sparkled; after 10 minutes of running around and screaming, everything in the chamber was dead but Xanthippe... and Kasim! He'd made it through, only slightly burned. Xanthippe did the happy dance on Fangskin's butchered corpse, singing, "He didn't die! He didn't die! You tried to kill him, but he didn't die! Nyah!"

"Uh, are you OK?" Kasim was looking dubiously at her.

"Sure! Never better!" *squish, squish!*

"Well, there's this hideous altar over here, arrayed with the butchered remains of poor lost innocent souls, and drenched with the blood of the screaming damned. Think we should do something about it."

"No problem! Hmm. Low-slung, these snake altars. How do you get rid of altars, anyway?" "The usual approach is to defile them."

"What, piss on them or something?"

"I guess that'd work, but I'm not bringing my little soldier anywhere near that thing."

Xanthippe shook her head exasperatedly. "Do I have to do everything around here?"

"Why don't we just kick it around some?"

"Even better!"

Xanthippe did the happy dance on top of the altar, and disturbed its arrangement of human body parts. That did the trick; the altar cracked in two, and warm sunlight shone through a small window onto the altar's remains. Something metallic glinted in the light; a little amulet, with a snapped-off piece of a staff jutting from a socket. Hmmm...

Back in the city, everyone was relieved to see daylight again. Warriv described the people "gathering the wits that had been scattered about like... restrictive undergarments in the darkness." Maybe he was missing the harem guilds. The staff piece she already had fit the piece from the amulet, so she set the cube to "repair" and pushed the button. The cube rejoined the wood, polished the shaft, straightened up the filigree, and reset some missing gemstones; it even made a little "ding" noise when it was done. There, step one of her three-stage unstoppable plan for world domination. Or at least honking off Diablo.

"I am impressed. For one of your limited experience, you are rising to the challenge most admirably."

It was Drognan, come over from his little shop to bother her. "Hello, master Drognan. My, something very important must be happening for you to abandon your cozy corner of the city, and come alllllll the way over here, to visit little old me."

"Vanquishing the Claw Vipers was a necessary step..."

"Unless you happen to have another Horadric staff lying around your shop somewhere?"

"The powerful staves of the Horadric magi were broken and scattered long ago..."

"You must be so disappointed, Droggy-baby. They'd sell for some major bucks."

Drognan paused. "No record exists today of the location of the true tomb of Tal Rasha."

"Well, you said it, so it must be true! Oh no, I must be wrong, I'm of such limited experience. You'd better go back to reading for a few decades until you find it."

"There are records of those bygone days. The great Vizjeri sorcerer Horazon had a hidden sanctuary near here. Horazon was alive when Baal was captured and bound; surely, he would have recorded the location of the tomb in his personal journal."

"Which you don't have."

"No one can be sure where it lies now."

"So, Droggy-poo, instead of looking for one permanently lost thing, I should look for another permanently lost thing that might tell me where the first permanently lost thing is."

"I believe that Horazon's journal might be easier to locate. In fact, you should go speak with Lord Jerhyn. He is most anxious to speak with you."