...In a world of eternal darkness, where only bioluminescence illuminates the coral ruins,
The vision of the Naga is a pathetic parody of a real eye.
Flickering beads catching the dim light,
They sense shadows rather than see images.
Their hearing is an echo reflected from bone walls,
Distorted by the current and the howl of the abyss.
They hear not sounds, but vibrations, the trembling of the water,
Warning of the approach of prey or kin.
Pathfinders among the Naga are but wretched imitations of skilled hunters.
Their "talent" lies in the ability to recognize faint chemical traces in the water,
To feel the slightest changes in pressure.
But this does not make them agile: they are scavengers rather than predators,
Relying on numbers, not skill...
A hand flies up—intercepting a trident falling toward my head. A massive, snake-like prick tried to press me down with strength, but instead of pinning one charming Dwarf to the ground—he lunged past to my left.
For which he immediately received a solid cuff to the ear, momentarily disorienting the beast. Staggering in place, nervously twitching his tail, the bastard already tried to stand and return to the fight, but a spear fragment pierced his skull through, coming out of his mouth.
For a few seconds, the freak twitched in convulsions, bristling his fins and letting out a death rattle, before his carcass thudded face-first into the wet sand, joining a dozen of his companions.
"And so many words were said, pfft..."
Spitting out some blood that had leaked into my mouth from a split lip, I sat right on the snake's carcass, surveying the area. Within a ten-meter radius of me lay bodies in various states of integrity. Severed tails, pieces of fins, limbs...
The bastards simply refused to die until I gutted them like their favorite fish, which the creatures devour in huge quantities. Honest word by the hearing of my glorious ancestors—a whole legion of Dwarves, angry, drunk, and stinking—wouldn't consume as much as these freaks consume in a day.
"Day... Right. What day is it now?"
Looking up, I met the same endless mass of water that surrounded us on all sides. The underwater temple and the small town attached to it were covered by an air bubble so the local inhabitants could raise some livestock from the surface here... And it was easier to keep prisoners that way than under tons of icy water, after all.
The rest of the underwater world consisted of half-destroyed ruins in the local Murloc style. Or, as the snake-people called themselves—Naga, from the word Naga or Nagas... Hell if you can understand these constantly hissing and insult-spewing creatures.
I don't know exactly how long I've been here, but I've only managed to sleep properly twice, and the rest of the time I've been trying to get out of this trap, fighting nightmares, the encroaching whispers, and delusions...
Speaking of the latter. Turning sharply, I managed to catch a glimpse of a golden-glowing eye outside the air bubble... and far from just one. I don't know what kind of beast lives in these waters, but until I get a proper way out of here—I won't even poke my nose outside the bubble.
Though I suspect this monster lives only in my head. At least, if I understood everything correctly from the inscriptions on the temple walls and the rambling explanations of the crazed Shaman.
Old Gods...
Beings locked deep underground as punishment for their misdeeds. Horrific creatures—lusting to gain control over the planet and having fought gods in the past, like Khaz himself. Unable to destroy these bastards, the gods locked them underground thousands of years ago...
And as it becomes obviously clear—over time the prison has significantly leaked, since the evil scumbags create entire cults for themselves and influence races even beyond the seas and oceans.
True evil in the flesh, many times worse than any Troll or Orc. And this shit targeted me when I voluntarily applied ancient runes to my own thick skull...
The forgotten dialect of our people. A source of pride. The language of antiquity that appeared among us when Khaz pulled us from the earth and gave us flesh. And I... dragged my kin into the embrace of these creatures, and even generously sprinkled my axe with blood, bringing gifts to an ancient deity...
Granted, it was out of ignorance. Maybe out of stupidity. But what difference does it make now if I personally sat my bare ass on a red-hot forge?
My thoughts were tangled from these reflections. Though, perhaps the Old God himself, in whose temple I had lived for the last days... weeks? Better to get out of here quickly before my brains turn to mush like the local overgrown Murlocs.
And it's time to leave, and long overdue, but for that, I needed to make my way through the entire temple town, populated by these vile creatures. Reach some currents or portals that could move me closer to the shores of Lordaeron...
And from there, surface, fortunately according to the burnt snake in the temple, it's not that deep there, maybe a hundred meters. Though that doesn't make it any easier for me. Shaking the blood from my hands, with a grunt I rose from the dead Naga carcass, then began the habitual butchery.
The massive creature stank like a Gnoll's lair where those sons of bitches mate in the spring. A vile, suffocating stench, with light notes of fishy smell that only made the situation worse.
I needed to cut off the fins and scales in the shoulder and elbow area—small pieces compared to the whole body, but many times stronger than the rest of the "skin" on the bodies of these underwater monsters.
"Ugh... Disgusting," closing my eyes, I tried to detach myself from the smell, only it hadn't particularly helped before and certainly didn't help now, "what the hell did you eat before our meeting?"
The tail, as well as the crests, also went into the makeshift bag. A few bones followed. I'd have to spend several more hours cleaning them of guts and blood, but this time I managed to kill the big guy without much damage to the body, so...
Perhaps today the first step toward my escape from this underwater trap will be taken. Though considering the plan—more than likely I'll be crushed by the weight of the water, or even more likely—scattered across the sea abyss.
Returning to the temple, full of many changes, I carelessly dumped the items gathered in the Naga town, then climbed with my feet onto a stone brought from the "street," which served as my table, chair, and partly a bed.
Around me lay makeshift bags, tubes, helmets. Dozens of crooked inventions that wouldn't be approved even for the most stupid and blind apprentice, but... there was simply no other choice.
Under the mass of water, on the sea floor—where the strongest things were stones and the bones of the local inhabitants—nothing better simply came to my mind! Shitty Naga lived like damn fanged savages... Though in this case—such a thing would serve as a real insult to Trolls and their ilk.
May I never wear my glorious beard again, they didn't even have proper clothes to speak of; is it even worth mentioning metals or wood? Here, on the sea floor—none of that exists, and if it does, it's likely rotting ships, the skeletons of which surely lie somewhere nearby...
That's why right now I was assembling something like a diving suit out of bones and scales, which should protect me and give enough clean air before I suffocate or freeze.
"Alright... Then let's begin."
Out of habit, I wanted to say something in the ancient dialect, but... Khaz be my witness, I was simply afraid to speak the words of that language aloud, especially near the temple of one of the Old Gods... Or maybe all of them at once.
Tossing some local seaweed into my mouth, I began to work my jaws actively, bringing them to the state of chewing gum. This sticky crap is hard to peel off your teeth, but it makes a more or less decent glue when the plant's juice ends up in seawater.
Spitting into a jar with the accumulated "glue," I finally set to work. Enough materials had been gathered, and I shouldn't poke my nose further into the Naga city.
I started with the frame. I chose the largest and strongest bones—ribs of some large fish, Naga, and a piece of a turtle shell I found in the temple itself. I cleaned them, reinforced them, wove them together using strong fibers of some seaweed and the tendons of the snake-people. Despite all the cleaning, or rather my attempts to clean this crap—it stank to high heaven... And it seems this smell will stay with me forever.
But let's not dwell on the sad parts. I'm sure as soon as I step into any workshop again, the aromas of burning, smoke, and ash will kick all this shit right back out, even to the bottom of the sea!
What I got was a semblance of a skeleton, repeating the shape of the body. This shit didn't look reliable at all, but that's if you don't know how strong Naga bones are. I don't know—is it only because of them that they swim calmly along the sea floor or is magic involved here... But breaking the bones of these freaks isn't that easy, and carving something out of them—that's an opus worthy of an entire Elven ballad.
"Eh, if only Narochka would sing me a couple of her dreary ballads right now, while her sister with her plump... Khem... Need to work."
Lustful thoughts had been creeping up on me too often lately. I don't know exactly what it's connected to, my healing from the pressure of the runes or just the proximity of death affecting me... But it doesn't matter.
Five hours of work, without sleep or rest, and I had a real Murloc rarity in my hands. Armor that these freaks would easily take for a relic of their shitty god.
This will be the base of my "diving suit."
The next stage—scales. There are plenty of them here too, of different sizes and shapes from all parts of the body, but unfortunately only the strongest and most flexible ones are suitable, like for example on the elbows of the fattest and healthiest Naga.
Even among them, I carefully chose the strongest ones and laid layer upon layer on the bone frame, like tiles on a roof. I fastened each element with seaweed "glue" mixed with the juice of local mollusks and poured seawater over it. It turned out to be a fairly dense coating, but there was no airtightness yet.
To provide at least some seal against water and cold, I decided to use the skins of local sea animals and Murlocs. I tanned them with great difficulty... Though if my old man saw such work, he'd give me a belt-whipping to remember!
...I soaked them in resin I found in growths on underwater rocks. I wrapped the resulting material around the inside of the bone frame. The result was a turd-shaped bag made of this substance... It smelled accordingly.
In theory, this should at least slow down the penetration of water.
The helmet had to be made from the head of the largest Naga I'd ever seen here, and covered on all sides with transparent fins and pieces of tails. It's all the same, of course, that you can't see a damn thing through them, but it's something...
The most difficult task was creating a container for air. The idea came to me from my own invention. Fire-spitter cylinders were cleaned of fire-mixture residues by air blowing and preserved—by pumping it out along with the mixture residues.
And if you can pump it out, then pumping it in isn't that hard... Okay, it turned out to be very hard, but I think it should last for a while, at least I hoped so.
Inspecting the entire construction, I didn't have much desire to pull such a thing onto myself just from the appearance alone. Sticky, soft, rattling with bones. Already tired of mentioning the stench.
"Eh, this is all for Ironforge... the Northern Kingdoms... and tits. Good Elven tits." Shuddering with disgust, I managed to pull the suit on with great difficulty, checking three times and making sure it wouldn't fall apart from one careless movement. "Let Grandma Mogrin be my witness... If I get out of this hole—I'm definitely going to roll a certain arrogant pointy-eared girl in the hayloft."
Bending down with difficulty, I looked at myself in a reflection of a puddle of water, which were everywhere here. A rather horrific face looked back at me, like a corpse raised by an unskilled Orc Necromancer. Well, or like a sick and dying Murloc... Depending on what you like more.
"Alright, it looks like shit..." Having admired myself enough, I pulled off the suit, carefully packing it into a shoulder bag, similarly fashioned from a dead Naga. Now the simplest part remained—to make my way through the city full of snake-human excrement, but now it seemed to me that it wasn't such a big problem. "I hope no one ever finds out about this 'craft' of mine."
***
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" A stream of water almost carried me outside the air bubble. Managing to stick a trident fragment, or more precisely a piece of the blade, into a Naga that happened to be in my way, I managed to slow down and only by a miracle stayed on my feet, literally a meter from the barrier.
With a jerk, I pulled the blade out of the freak's collarbone, widening the wound with jagged movements and letting some of the enemy's blood—with a kick of my foot I sent him into the crowd of his companions, then rolled to the side, as a real lightning bolt had already struck the spot where I was standing.
A branching blue prankster connected thirty meters of distance, then disappeared with a pop, leaving behind the scent of ozone, which at least for a moment overpowered the fishy stench.
Picking up a handful of sand, shells, and other shit from the ground, I threw them without ceremony into the face of an approaching fish-man, then with the trident fragment, I ripped him open from groin to stern, causing a disgusting squeal-scream full of gurgling sounds. Falling over me, covering me from his kin, the noble Murloc caught five magic projectiles, after which his body split in half...
But I was no longer there. Hiding between houses made of coral, sometimes not understanding where these freaks had windows or doors, I just jumped through the openings, trying to break away from the pursuit, which was becoming more active and larger with every second.
It seemed that the snake-faced bastards were converging on me from all over the city, and if things continued this way, there would be no choice but to hastily put on the barely-tested suit and jump into their sea portal-current with a running start.
Turning the corner of another house, I ran into a courtyard where ordinary cows were grazing, only they were being tended by another snake-girl with shark teeth. Twisting on her tail, she sat on her ass—trying to shoot across my path with that very tail.
Another roll and thanks to Khaz for gifting his children with not such a great height, and I find myself right up against this bitch.
A punch to the chest, grab the loose fins on her head, and with one sharp movement snap her neck, then break into a run again, not even waiting for the body to fall.
Flying through the house of the already dead Naga, I found myself in a small nook with some large transparent bubbles. Not touching this shit just in case, I emptied my craft from the backpack, beginning to feverishly don the underwater Armor.
The bones, as if out of spite, rattled especially loudly. The resin slipped, threatening to pull the suit out of my hands. And the sticky substance from the seaweed began to stick to my hands again, slowing everything down more and more.
Outside the house, a familiar hissing was heard. The rustle of sand under powerful tails and the ringing female shouts of the local horrific ladies.
I knew perfectly well what fate would await me, so not wasting any more time, almost jumping on one leg while putting on the suit on the go, I jumped out of another hole in the coral house, once again finding myself on the spacious and deserted streets.
Tripping and hunching over in the process of putting on the helmet, I didn't notice myself how I stumbled out into a square, where at that moment it was very... very lively. Naga were scurrying in all directions, and their stupider and four-legged workers were actively croaking in time with the shouts of the head snake-girl.
Pulling the helmet onto my head, I tried to quietly and stealthily make my way past this crowd, but...
"Um, seriously. No one is even looking at me?"
My brain didn't even immediately process this thought. Freezing near the nearest house, I watched the crowd of snake-assed bastards actively looking for me somewhere in the other direction.
Was it contempt for Murlocs from the local masters of the city, my skill at camouflage, the blessing of Khaz, or perhaps just banal inattentiveness...
I didn't pull luck's tail. And just accepting it—I stomped in the direction where the portal current was supposed to be. Not directly, of course, but trying to stay close to the houses and hunching over more.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan