Chapter 5, Interlude: The Other Groups Coming to the Mountain

Cozzlanga was abuzz with a rumour, well, to be more accurate, Cozzlanga was abuzz with a lot of rumours, like;

“I’ve heard that a fierce king has arisen in the north”

“I’ve heard he spits icicles”

“I’ve heard his throne is made of frozen denizens that displeased him”

Or like;

“Did you hear? Supposedly there is an Eternal in the city!”

Alternatively;

“A fruitwoman from Korund is gambling in a lot of places in the city, you wouldn’t know she was a fruit though, given how wrapped up in furs she is, eh? What type of fruit? Nobody knows, trussed up in furs after all.”

Some rumours were clearly false like;

“A snowman is wandering around, but he has no face”

One particular rumour however, was this;

“On in the peak of the mountain of no great importance, there is a really sweet artefact, just waiting to be looted”

Lots of denizens simply treated this as just another rumour, after all, no way there could be anything important on that mountain. Others dicounted it simply because it was a rumour, or because it was a new rumour.

Some however too it more seriously, those who had the people to spare and those who had need to follow up every rumour of artefacts.

The bat gang of Cozzlanga, who called themselves the Swipewings were of course interested, after all, they were one of the ones to get the information directly from the source.

A few battered bats were bowed before their leader, the bossbat. The bossbat was a lean velvety furred bat. His fur was almost like the night sky. He was particularly proud of it. His wings were a bit stunted however, so he wore a scarlet cloak with a high collar, and thus hid his wings in the cloak.

This bossbat was the boss because he was more sneaky (that isn’t saying much) than the other bats. Well, that was the reason the bossbat believed, the truth was the other bats obeyed due to something else.

He was musing about his stupid thugs.

“So, you attacked an explodahead?” he questioned, picking at a crooked fang.

The bats shivered before him, one particularly stupid one spoke up.

“Well, we didn’t really attack us, he just kinda charged us, boss”

The bossbat hissed.

“After you lot were daft enough to threaten him”

The bossbat glared at the useless lumps before him.

“Well, at least you brought back some interesting information”

He began to pace.

“As for the mountain…”

He smiled evilly. “Call for Batbat!”

The two-bit thugs went white. It was Batbat, the double bat that they feared, and Batbat was utterly loyal to the bossbat.

The bossbat began to cackle. “Yessss, you useless lumps will fly with him and get the artefact before that explodahead, and if you don’t come back with the artefact, I’ll let ‘Batbat‘ play with you”

The thug bats gulped. Batbat had a pretty extreme idea of playing.

* * * * *

Elsewhere, there was a dark alley filled with rocks, like someone had dumped a pile of rubble down into the alley.

If a denizen had been nearby he or she might have been surprised to hear the rocks speak. Then that denizen would have run. The living rocks of Elcon have a bad reputation. This is mainly for two reasons, the first is that there is many rocks in the villainous and criminal organization known as the Monolithia. The second is that a lot of rocks are of a grumpy ill tempered sort. The second can be a bit understandable. Nobody likes being stepped on or sat on, and when you look exactly like a rock, you get a lot of both.

“So what do you think of the rumour then?”

The Monolithia does a lot of spying, seeing without eyes and hearing without ears. It is easy to spy when you are a rock, so it isn’t remotely surprising that they’d know what was going on in Cozzlanga.

A couple of rocks grumbled their thoughts, but a few spoke out more clearly.

“Bit of a weird party innit? A coneman, a blokkit and an explodahead?”

“What’s weird is the coneman, not a scream or faint out of him!”

“Hope it isn’t one of the special ones”

“Doesn’t not being scared make it special?”

“Nah, I mean the ones that can do the special thing with their mind”

“Wot? Don’t they all have that thing where they can move stuff with their mind?”

“I wish I could move stuff with my mind”

“Sometimes when I try to push stuff with my body, I crush it”

“Ah shaddap the lot of you, I mean the other thing with their mind”

“huh? Oh, that thing? Isn’t that a myth?”

“I heard that they could all do that if they were brave enough”

“Really?”

“I don’t know how they work, I just heard is all”

There was a cough from the rock that started it all.

“Right mates, I was asking if you thought we should go after it”

There was an embarrassed silence.

“Yeah”

“Of course”

“Anything to get back at a coneman”

“Yeah, them and their fancy picking things up powers”

“We can sell what the artefact is or if it is good, keep it”

“Maybe it’ll let us pick up stuff”

“Blockhead, why would a coneman want that?”

“I dunno bro”

The rocks continued talking to each other as they rolled out of the alley and the city to get to the mountain.

* * * * *

In one of Cozzlanga’s taverns, an armoured figure sat. His helmet was a pot, his breastplate a potlid, the back of it was a giant frying pan. Infact the rest of his armour was a kind of coat of potlids. His foot armour and arm armour appeared to be some manner of graters however. At his waist was a number of cooking utensils and on his back was a huge spatula.

He heard a whispered rumour, and bolted upright, and ran yelling from the tavern “Maybe this time it’ll be what I seek!”

* * * * *

The rumour even reached the ears of some minions of the vile tyrant who called himself the Firelord. They were always looking for ways to gain their master an advantage over the innocent and not so innocent denizens of Elcon.

As it turned out they had something that they were planning on using to terrorize the common folk, so they just let it loose after the mountain, it had just been eating loads anyway. They figured it would be nice to get some use from it before the plan.

* * * * *

A tremendously fat shewpog sat back in his shaded chair. He drummed digits nearly covered with golden rings, golden bracelets clanged on his arms. Various other jewellery glinted in the dark of his chair.

He had just heard about all the denizens going to the mountain.

“Fools, the lot of them” Golden incisors glittered as he spoke. “I’ve a better idea, just get me some muscle and…”

The fat shewpog made his plans.

* * * * *

It had become a race. Who would reach the artefact first? Who would keep the prize?