Path of Dragons 2 - Chapter 42 - Gluttony (Patreon)

If Elijah hadn’t been keenly aware of how close he was to the elves – and more importantly, to the Reaver himself – he would’ve sworn that he was watching a high-budget fantasy movie. The table itself was polished wood, and it was piled high with so much food that Elijah questioned whether or not the elves could consume even a quarter of it. He saw whole roast pigs, tureens of buttery potatoes, and a host of other foods he couldn’t identify but looked amazingly appetizing.

Suddenly, he was reminded of how long it had been since he’d had a proper meal. During his trek to the tower, he’d eaten nothing but wild game and whatever edibles he could forage. He was used to that sort of diet, so he didn’t mind, but it was woefully lacking compared to the feast laid out before him. It was especially pointed because of the sheer delight shown by the elves each time they took a bite.

More than once, he considered casting Calamity and clearing them out, just so he could take their meal. However, the Task set by the tower had specified that he should kill the Reaver without alerting his subjects. He didn’t think that failing the second part would result in anything dire, but he was certain that it would at least affect his eventual grade.

And he had no intention of taking a lesser reward if he could help it.

So, he settled into a corner and watched the progression of the feast, and over time, the elves grew progressively drunker. The Reaver, though, abstained from alcohol. His cup – which was a jeweled thing that looked more like a chalice – only held water.

He also didn’t eat nearly as much as the elves, who were positively gluttonous with their consumption. For his part, Elijah held his own hunger at bay through a sheer expression of willpower. It wasn’t until it had been gnawing at one facet of his mind for more than an hour that he realized just how unnatural it was.

Elijah had always enjoyed food. Simple or complex, the product of home cooking or a five-star restaurant – it didn’t matter. He could always find something to appreciate. Even cooking wild game over an open fire was enough to get his salivary glands working overtime. And yet, he’d never felt an urge to eat, to consume, that was nearly as strong as what he experienced watching those elves gorge themselves. Perhaps it was because of his cultivation, or maybe it was something else entirely. But he knew that the hunger was wrong. That it was alien.

That it came from the Reaver.

The moment that thought crossed Elijah’s mind, he doubled down on his resistance. The challenge of the current level of the tower had already begun, and he’d almost fallen prey to it without even realizing that he was in danger.

Now that he knew what to look for, he could feel the tendrils of alien thoughts wrapping themselves around his mind. And once he was aware, it was much easier to resist the hunger that had, only a few minutes before, seemed so potent.

He also saw the gluttonous elves for what they were. The slight crinkling around their eyes. The fearful glances toward the Reaver. The tears coating their cheeks. They weren’t guests. They were prisoners, one and all.

But Elijah wasn’t there to free them.

Instead, he watched as they continued to gorge themselves. The food gradually disappeared down their respective gullets until, at last, the first one passed out. Her stomach bulged obscenely, and using One with Nature, Elijah knew she was dead. She had literally eaten herself to death.

And she wasn’t the last.

Over the next few hours, the elves dropped, one by one until only the Reaver remained. Still, he sat at the head of the table like nothing had changed. He sipped at his water with a mild expression that bordered on boredom.

Then, finally, he stood. The legs of his chair scraped against the tile floor, loud in the silence the dead had left behind. He looked from one elf to the other, disappointment playing across his face.  He ran his hand through his brown hair before letting out a tired sigh. Then, the air around him shimmered.

So did the ambient Ethera.

And before Elijah’s eyes, the Reaver transformed. His arms and legs extended, growing longer and skeletally thin. The same could be said for his hands, and soon enough, the fingers had doubled in length. More, they were tipped in jagged black claws.

The man’s skin took on a gray hue, and his face remolded itself into a visage out of a horror movie. Like a mixture of man and bat, with long incisors extending to at least a few inches long, he looked like someone’s twisted interpretation of a vampire.

However, when the man fell on the elves’ corpses, Elijah found that the Reaver wasn’t interested in blood.

Or not only blood, Elijah amended.

The ghoulish mockery of a man ate everything. It was a grotesque sight, watching that creature gorge itself, but Elijah didn’t dare look away. Instead, he watched every last bite. And it was nearly enough to send his stomach into rebellion. He kept himself from vomiting, but it was a close thing.

Even so, Elijah’s stomach twisted into knots as he watched the creature’s macabre feast. The Reaver took special and obvious pleasure in consuming the elves’ ruptured stomachs, but he seemed to quite enjoy every other bit of elf he consumed as well. Even the bones, which crunched loudly beneath his powerful jaws. Or the intestines, which went down with a wet slurp. Eventually, Elijah stopped trying to identify the bits and pieces, but unfortunately, his biology background came back to haunt him.

Whatever the case, the only solace was that it couldn’t last forever.

Eventually, the Reaver completed its feast, leaving only bloody chairs behind. It shifted back into a human form and returned to its chair. A moment later, a pair of ogres stomped into the room. Their body types resembled the jailers, which was to say that they were built like sumo wrestlers, though even more obese.

The pair waddled in, and without a word, started clearing the table. Very little food had survived the elves’ forced gluttony, so they were mostly tasked with gathering used dishes. It took a few trips, but gradually, they accomplished their task. In the meantime, the Reaver sat at the head of the table, with a bored expression playing across his face as he sipped at his water.

Once everything had been cleared away, the Reaver pushed himself back to his feet and, without a word, left the dining room via a side door. A disgusted Elijah followed, intending to ambush the creature the moment he had a chance. However, even though he had already used Predator Strike as well as Venom Strike in preparation of the attack, he never got the chance.

Most of the time, the hall was deserted. Yet, each time Elijah verged on commencing his attack, an elf or ogre would be there. Usually, they shuffled past the Reaver quickly – obviously, they were engaged in their own tasks – but they were frustratingly spaced in such a way as to ensure that Elijah never had a clear opportunity to do what he very much wanted to do.

After a few minutes, during which the Reaver traversed the halls at an unhurried pace, he reached a pair of elaborate double doors. At first, Elijah thought he’d stumbled upon some sort of ritual room or something else of importance. However, when the Reaver threw the doors open, he saw another long, straight hall. It was at least fifty yards long, and from what Elijah could see, it was entirely empty.

Looking left, then right, Elijah ensured that no one else was around. Then, he crept forward, preparing to pounce. He knew precisely how he intended to attack; he only needed to do it.

Just before he was going to leap upon the creature’s back, heavy footsteps announced a new arrival. Frustrated, Elijah whipped around to see the second-largest ogre he’d ever beheld. The creature was tall and broad, and he was clad in a full set of dark iron armor. Elijah could see nothing of the ogre’s skin. Instead, he looked like a monstrous automaton.

“Remain in the hall,” the Reaver said. “I feel something amiss, though I know not what it might be. Be wary.”

The metal-clad monster grunted an affirmation, the sound confirming that it was, indeed, a living creature. Elijah had enough experience with that armor to recognize the futility in attacking such a creature. He could get through it, perhaps, but not in his draconid form. Even with Predator Strike, he would fail. He knew that as well as he could sense that the creature was much, much higher level than him.

Frustrated, Elijah slipped into the hall as he followed the Reaver. The corridor was nothing special, though Elijah felt curious abnormalities in the walls. Or rather, he felt the tiny organisms that lived in the pits and grooves that shouldn’t have been present in a solid wall.

He remained a few feet behind the Reaver as they traversed the hall until they reached another pair of double doors on the other end. There, the Reaver flung them open to reveal a large and richly furnished apartment. Velvet, thick carpets, and gold ornaments abounded, but the Reaver paid them no heed. Instead, the creature stepped inside, closing the door only an instant after Elijah had slipped in after his prey.

Just like that, Elijah had a golden opportunity. He had the Reaver alone. He only needed to finish it off before it reached the end of the hallway and that massive, metal-clad guard.

Still, he didn’t rush.

Elijah had always been a patient person. So, he waited and watched as the Reaver went further into the apartment. After a few minutes of watching the monster go about its nightly routine, he finally got the opportunity he’d been waiting for. With the additional power of Predator Strike as well as Venom Strike singing through his claws, he pounced.

And missed entirely.

His claws swiped through the creature’s human head, but he hit nothing but air. In the meantime, the Reaver screeched. It was a sound no human had ever uttered, and Elijah likened it to something that should’ve come from an insect. At the same time, the thing transformed – or perhaps it let the illusion of its human form lapse – showing Elijah his error. He’d been using his eyes when he should’ve relied on his other senses.

As a result, he’d been fooled by a formless illusion.

But now that the monster was in its natural form, that would no longer be a problem. So, even as the thing panicked, Elijah lashed out with his claws, using every point of Strength and Dexterity to get in as many attacks as possible before the monster reacted. When he finally bounded away, he left a ruin of bloody ribbons where the monster’s emaciated thigh had once been.

But Elijah had pushed it a little too long, and he was forced to leap over the creature’s retaliatory counterattack. It swung its long, thin arm with wild abandon, clipping Elijah’s tail and throwing him off-balance. However, even though it sent him sliding across the bedroom, it wasn’t enough to injure him.

That had never been the point, though.

When Elijah recovered, he saw that the Reaver had abandoned the fight altogether and was using its lengthy legs to sprint toward the apartment’s exit. Elijah’s heart jumped into his throat.

If the creature reached the guard, he wouldn’t have just failed his Task, which would end with him losing a potential reward. Instead, he’d run the risk of losing his life. The guard was dangerous enough on his own, but if the Reaver made it to the end of the hall, more help would be on its way. It wouldn’t be long after that that Elijah would be buried under the weight of the entirety of the level’s defenses.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So, he launched himself after the Reaver, moving with every ounce of speed he could muster. His claws dug into the tiles and ripped the rich carpets apart as he tore across the room. But despite its awkward appearance, the Reaver was deceptively fast, and it remained just ahead of Elijah’s pursuit.

When it reached the door, Elijah knew he had to change tactics.

Fortunately, he had just the tool for the job. So, he initiated a transformation back into his human form without breaking stride. The Reaver threw the doors open, then started down the hall.

But Elijah didn’t let it get another step before he embraced Snaring Roots and cast the spell. Thick, thorny vines exploded from the floor, wrapping around the monster’s thin legs. It ripped free, but for every vine it shredded, another took its place. For a brief second, it was immobile.

Elijah crashed into it, having initiated yet another transformation – this time, taking on the shape of a lamellar ape. The monster raked its claws across his chest, but Elijah had preemptively used Iron Scales, and the attack did nothing. The same couldn’t be said for Elijah’s own blows, which rained down on the monster’s emaciated body with reckless and inevitable abandon. Bones cracked, and the monster screamed. Yet, despite the volume, no cavalry came running to the creature’s rescue.

For a second, Elijah thought he’d won the battle.

But then, he heard a metallic click, and an instant later, a line of fiery agony erupted in his side.