The Black Pyramid of Uridimmu (II)
A silvery light floods your sight, radiating from the pendant in hand. It banishes the shadows from the furthest corners of the hall, scouring every inch of its nooks and crannies, so dazzling that it temporarily robs you of your sight. When your vision returns, blurry and uncertain, you blink away the afterglow. Darkness reclaims the hall. The girl is no longer anywhere to be seen… but the monster still remains. It growls, tongues of flame leaking from its mouth. Once more, lances of fire streak through the air, aiming for you.
This time, however, they splash harmlessly against a shimmering, translucent wall, manifesting just in front of you. Inviolable, immaculate, it stands tall as part of a larger ethereal fortress that fades in and out of sight, with you at its core. Emboldened, trusting in the defences left to you by the girl, you stand up just as straight and glare back at the demon.
Hm.
A slight hum of interest from the shadow, and it rises up, standing on its hind legs. Its wings spread out to the sides, causing a gale that scatters the bones and stirs up the dust – still, you do not feel even the slightest breeze.
Uncharacteristically robust for a human soul, but…
The purple eyes blaze with excitement. Reaching towards its chest, the shadow sinks in its claws, digging around with a bloody, squishy noise. From its own body, it tears out a gigantic spear, wicked and barbed, all black and red as if stained with the viscera of countless victims. With a short, sharp bark like a laugh, the spear is casually flung into an air. A deep violet glow wraps itself around the spear, and it is launched towards you at terrifying speed. With a tremendous impact that shakes the entire hall, the spear strikes true, hitting the wall. But instead of dissipating harmlessly like the flames, or bouncing off, it sticks in the translucent stones, hanging in mid-air. A crack spreads across the point of impact; the wall yet holds, but its invincibility is now called into question.
But, yet a fledgling with no measure of his own power.
The mirth in the shadow’s words ripple across your mind. It is correct, you are vaguely aware of the new Astra you have, but you have no idea how to use it properly. You do not even know how this wall was formed. But still, you do not doubt. This power was entrusted to you by the girl; that much you know. And so it must be enough to protect you. As if responding to your unwavering will, the wall shines, and the cracks vanish. The spear falls to the floor, clattering ominously.
Now, that is interesting indeed. Why do you not fall into fear and despair like the bug that you are? Shall we put your walls to the test and see just how much you can take?
You can hear squelching, ripping noises as countless spears begin forcing themselves out of the shadow, rising into the air and pointing towards you. Despite your previous confidence, you cannot help but hold your breath. Will your defences hold out? They have to – you have to believe that they will.
The monster laughs.
That indomitable look in your eyes… yes, you are indeed a proper human soul. If so, it would be a waste to break you here and now. I must savour the first offering to enter my domain after an eternity of solitude and hunger.
At his words, you become concerned if the nomadic ritual was not some trap to feed you to this beast. As if reading your mind, the shadow shakes with mirth.
Make no mistake, you came here on your own, pulled along by the bond you have to a fragment of mine. The rituals of the weaklings who yet unknowingly search for Kadath may have opened the way to the Dreamlands, but no other mortal has made it to my halls for millennia.
“What… are you?” you mutter.
The ancients named me Uridimmu, I who was born of our Great Mother. The magicians call upon mere pieces of mine and bestow upon them the name of Marchosias, deluding themselves into believing that they have truly tapped into my insight and power. But I am and always will be the Hound, the companion to the nightmares of Man, the whisperer of violence in your hearts, the mightiest of the eleven primordial demons. And you are…
Wrinkly. What an amusing name… and what an amusing fate.
You wonder to yourself, innocuously and with genuine curiosity, why he is trapped here all alone and hungry if he is so mighty. In response, the six eyes flash in anger, purple flames blazing to the ceiling.
INSOLENCE.
If he is going to get so angry, perhaps he should stop reading your mind.
You feel your body shaking all of a sudden; an unseen force is attempting to gently drag you up into the air. You stare accusingly at Uridimmu, but he just laughs, his anger having vanished as quickly as it came.
Your ritual is about to end, little human child.
With a sudden speed belying his size, he dashes forward, claws slamming against your protective wall, raking deep furrows into the stones. The wall creaks under the force but it remains firm… for now. Up close, the shadow stinks of beast and blood and death, and your torch is extinguished, leaving nothing but your glimmering ethereal protection and the six purple eyes glowing in the darkness above your head.
Let it not be said that I am an ungracious host. As a parting gift, here is a prophecy, some words of divine insight. You will be drawn into a dangerous path that is not of this world. Not of my world and not of yours. At that time, you will have no choice but to accept my aid in desperation.
You can see the first spear that Uridimmu hurled at you floating right above your head, glowing purple. Somehow, it made its way past the wall, past all your protections.
But if you grasp that spear now, you can overcome that future before it ever comes to pass.
Uridimmu grins; the pale glinting fangs are all you can see.
But I will not lie. You may have a different regret instead.
***
Faced with the Hound’s offer, you:
A. Take the spear and establish a contract. You do not fear the demon, and you have a feeling that his power will be needed if you ever cross paths with those like John Bull again.
B. Refuse to take the spear. Whatever happens, you will overcome it on your own, without resorting to any dallying with ancient gods or whatnot.
***
He roars in laughter, tearing your fortress apart in a violent frenzy that threatens to collapse the great hall itself, as if demonstrating that it would have been possible for him at any moment. At the same time, you are pulled upwards quickly, swiftly, passing through the ceiling of the hall, through the stones of the giant pyramid, and find yourself floating in emptiness.
And here is one more helping hand for being an entertaining guest. You were not the only one that walked the paths of the subconscious, were you?
The voice of the Hound fades away, leaving you all alone.
In front of you, you can perceive three paths. You can feel that they each lead somewhere different; one returns you to the desert where the ritual began. One leads you to a large city, of the sort you have only read and heard about. And the last leads to a mansion on windswept moors that looks like it would be inhabited by brooding noblemen and tearful ladies.
***
The Hound seems to have left you with some choices of a path to take, and you suspect that two of the paths will lead you to Sophie or Elizabeth:
A. You head back to the desert.
B. You head to the large city.
C. You head to the mansion on the moors.
***
