Chapter 34: The Lizard People

Joan quickly crouched down, holding her breath as she hid within the dense thicket, peering through the gaps in the foliage to observe the two uninvited guests.

As she had expected, both were lizardfolk clad in crude leather armor and armed with spears. One carried a rectangular shield slung across his back, covered in hide, while the other had a leather quiver at his side, with three javelins protruding from it.

They appeared to be seasoned warriors, moving cautiously while sweeping their spears through the grass, evidently searching for some trace or clue.

One of them asked his companion a question. The other shook his head and replied in a low voice, uttering a string of strange-sounding words. The lizardfolk language was utterly different from human speech; Joan could only make out a word or two, enough to confirm that they were using Draconic. This ancient tongue was not reserved solely for dragons—humanoid creatures who possessed, or fancied themselves to possess, dragon blood, such as lizardfolk and kobolds, were also fond of this language, which to them was older and more noble than any other.

While Joan speculated about what the two lizardfolk might be saying, a harsh, rasping bird call sounded from above. A red-eyed crow swooped down—the very same that had been tracking her and Gray just moments before.

The moment the two lizardfolk spotted the crow, they halted at once, standing at attention, their demeanor exceedingly respectful.

The crow alighted in the brush, and in an instant, golden light shot from its body as its form rapidly swelled, transforming before Joan’s eyes into a lizardfolk shaman dressed in a gray robe and bearing a wooden staff.

The shaman exchanged a few words in Draconic with the two warriors, then turned and strode toward the island’s center, stopping at the entrance of the cave where Gray was hiding. His dark red eyes fixed on the mouth of the cave, exuding a cold, murderous intent.

“Come out!” the lizardfolk shaman called into the depths of the cave in rough but passable Common. “Murderers of my brother Kohn, you have nowhere left to run!”

His shout echoed through the forest, but there was only silence from within the cave.

“Master Chud, since the murderer dares not face you, let me and Bonk drag them out!” one of the lizardfolk warriors volunteered impatiently. His companion raised his shield and spear, eager to join in.

Chud, the lizardfolk shaman, pondered for a few seconds and nodded slightly. “One of them is a human youth, nothing to worry about. The other seems to be a giantkin—he may not be so easy to handle. Don’t underestimate them.”

“Master Chud, you can trust us with this task!”

With confidence, the lizardfolk warrior squared his shoulders and strode into the cave, spear at the ready, his partner close behind.

Seeing this, Joan couldn’t help but worry for Gray, who was concealed inside. She began to creep through the undergrowth, intending to return to the cave and help Gray face the two lizardfolk warriors. However, as soon as she moved, Chud immediately sensed something amiss. He spun around, his fiery red eyes gleaming with suspicion.

Joan pressed herself deeper into the thicket, scarcely daring to breathe.

“Who’s there? Come out now!” Chud barked at the bushes where Joan was hiding, his gaze darting uncertainly, unable to tell if he’d heard the wind or footsteps.

“Hmph. Slinking reptile—you won’t be able to hide for long.” Chud began chanting a divine incantation under his breath. Potent, searing magical energy gathered in his hands and rapidly coalesced into a ball of blazing flame.

With an abrupt motion, Chud thrust out his left hand, palm up, sending the roiling fireball hurtling toward the thicket. With a thunderous roar, flames exploded forth, igniting the brush and sending fire surging in all directions.

Joan’s hiding place was about fifteen yards from the ignition point, so she was not immediately engulfed, but the rolling heat and thick smoke were already spreading ahead of the flames. The acrid smoke stung her nose and throat, nearly making her cough aloud.

She drew her cloak up to cover her mouth and nose, struggling to suppress the urge to cough, her gaze darting through the haze in search of an escape route that would avoid alerting Chud. But to her dismay, Chud was blocking the only unburned path, and with her meager skills, being discovered by him would mean certain death.

Just as her disappointment threatened to turn to despair, a furious roar echoed from the depths of the cave, followed by a bloodcurdling scream, which drew Chud’s attention away.

There were hurried footsteps; a lizardfolk stumbled out of the cave, his spear broken, shield shattered, blood spattering his armor, his face contorted in terror as though he’d just seen a ghost.

“Bonk, what happened!” Chud demanded harshly of the panic-stricken warrior.

Bonk flinched, and as his eyes met Chud’s, a look of wild relief rushed over him, as if a drowning man had glimpsed a lifeboat. He didn’t bother to answer, but rushed toward Chud. He’d barely taken two steps when a javelin whistled through the air behind him, striking him in the back with a sickening thud, bursting through his chest in a spray of blood.

Bonk’s eyes bulged. He staggered forward another step before collapsing lifeless at Chud’s feet.

Chud’s grim face twitched involuntarily as he stared past the corpse toward the cave.

Gray, face twisted in fury, strode out of the cave, dragging the bloody corpse of another lizardfolk in his right hand as if it were a torn rag doll.

“Morg!” Gray bellowed at Chud, his muscular arm swinging forward as he hurled the corpse like a weapon.

Chud, wary of the berserk beast, dodged aside and thrust out his left hand, sending another ball of flame arcing toward Gray.

The conjured fireball struck Gray’s broad chest, leaving a charred mark before flickering out. The minor burn only served to enrage Gray further; roaring, he charged straight for the shaman.

Chud hurriedly tossed his staff at Gray’s feet while uttering a string of incantations. As it hit the ground, the staff transformed into a massive, barrel-thick, five-yard-long mottled python that immediately coiled around Gray, constricting tightly.

With all six of his eyes blazing, Gray roared and seized the python’s neck with both hands, tearing at it with brutal force. With a nauseating series of cracks, the enormous snake was ripped cleanly in two.

With disdain, Gray tossed aside the snake’s remains. As they landed, the twisted body shrank back into the form of a wooden staff, now snapped in two.

“Damnable beast—you’ll pay for this!” the shaman snarled, deeply shaken by Gray’s terrifying strength. Muttering a curse, he began weaving spellcasting gestures, arcs of crackling light flickering over his arms like countless blue-white serpents slithering back and forth.