City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [70]
“You listen to too many stories. Where do you think little medusas come from? Phoenix eggs?”
“Wonderful.”
Rhazala stopped at an old, run-down building—a tavern with boards over the windows, seemingly abandoned for centuries. There were two doors, one sized for goblins, gnomes, and halflings, and the other large enough to admit an ogre. The girl tapped out a complex pattern of knocks on the larger door, and a moment later it slid open. Rhazala stepped inside and motioned for them to follow.
The door guards were tall, powerful humanoids covered with shaggy, spotted fur. Their heads featured long canine ears, glowing green eyes, and long snouts filled with sharp teeth. Gnolls, Daine guessed, though he’d never actually seen one before. Gnolls were natives of the land of Droaam to the west. Droaam was the home of harpies and trolls, and according to bedtime stories these were the least of its terrors. The last werewolves were said to lurk in the depths of the forests of Droaam, and the barren Byeshk Mountains were home to medusas, basilisks, and other horrible creatures. A gnoll might be a match for a bugbear, if not as bright, and the presence of the gnolls hinted at greater horrors that might lie deeper in the building.
Rhazala exchanged a few words with the door guards, speaking in a language he didn’t know. After an exchange of snarls and grunts, she led them deeper into the old inn. The common room of the inn had been transformed into a barracks. Gnolls, goblins, and even a few ogres were sitting on pallets spread around the room, sharpening weapons and sharing stories or jokes. Rhalaza led them through the common room and the kitchen, back to what must have once been the innkeeper’s quarters. A lone figure stood before a small shrine constructed from strange, inhuman bones. The stranger, shrouded in a long, hooded cloak of green wool, was facing away from them. The back of the hood seemed to shift slightly as they entered, and despite the raucous chatter from the common room, Daine heard a hiss.
“Lord Kasslak?” Rhazala said. “I’ve brought them.”
The stranger rose and turned around. His hood was pulled down to cover his eyes and upper face, but Jode had clearly guessed correctly. Where Kasslak’s skin was exposed, it was covered with coppery scales, and a few vipers were peering out of the depths of the hood. Daine and the others dropped their eyes, and Daine’s hand went to the hilt of his sword.
“There is no need to draw your sword. I mean you no harm … at this time,” the medusa said. His voice was smooth and sibilant.
Can he see through the eyes of his snakes? Daine wondered. He’d never really considered the relationship between a medusa and its mane of serpents.
“Glad to hear it,” Daine said.
“Please, be seated.” The medusa gestured at the chairs scattered around the room. “I am Kasslak. I’m afraid I don’t know your names.”
Daine sat down. “I’m Daine, and my companions are Lei, Jode, and Pierce.”
“A pleasure,” Kasslak said, dipping his hooded head. “Rhazala, you may stay, but please close the door.” He walked over to a desk set against the northern wall and idly shifted a few sheets of parchment while he talked. “Sharn was built by the hands of the goblins, and Malleon’s Gate has been their home for centuries. The goblins have long been mistreated by humanity and its cousins, but nonetheless, a balance had been struck. That changed with the rise of Darguun, as the larger and more powerful goblinoids emerged from their mountain fortresses to spread across the land. The Darguuls have their own traditions, and over the last few decades the balance of power has been lost.”
“And where do medusas fit into this history lesson?” Daine asked. “I’m no sage, but I didn’t think that you were part of the same family tree.”
“Patience.” A serpent peered around the cowl and hissed softly. “As the Darguuls have come from the east, we of Droaam have come from the west. Since before the age of Galifar we have been seen as monsters, and in truth, our history has been one of violence and bloodshed.