The Devouring of S'lithik Hhai
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Much has been written regarding the legendary race of serpent-men who ruled the
primeval world before mankinds rise to preeminence among the earthly species. Deeply
versed in the arts of eldritch science, alchemy and sorcery, these reptilian savants were
the undisputed masters of all the lands beneath the youthful sun. Yet never has a truthful
account of the wicked races decline and extinction been chronicled. Until now.
Most erudite sages will speak of Man's early mastery of the arts
of warfare, and dote upon the savagery of our noble ancestors as they put these
serpent-folk to the sword and cleansed our continents of the venomous, dominating
presence. There are aged scholars, too, who claim the breed of walking serpents did bring
about their own doom, by the practicing of uncouth sorceries and alchemies which unleashed
dread powers that even their genius mentalities could not fully master . And still other
learned historians will relate how the shifting of the great sun robbed the serpent race
of the heated atmosphere necessary to their kind, as continental jungles dried and became
fertile plains or cooling tundras.
None of these varied ruminations speak with veracity of the
serpent race's downfall. Here now I shall inscribe the ancient truth upon these tablets of
durable gorra-stone, to preserve for coming generations the origin of mankind's rise to
greatness.
Wide and far-reaching was the scaled grasp of the
serpent-races power, slithering out across the young world from its black heart in
the bubbling fens of the primordial Hyperborean continent. The seat of their great, swampy
kingdom was named S'lithik Hhai, a collection of serpentine towers whose pinnacles rose to
heights beyond the cloying clouds, into the uppermost air of the world, where unknown
beasts out of the starry void sometimes alighted on fluted spires, gazing down upon the
massive works of those who dwelled below.
There was among the highest ranks of the serpent-folk, who called
themselves the Hith, a most respected and honored alchemist known as Xhyl the Wise.
Xhyl was master of a sky-stabbing tower in the midst of the capitol city, where his
breweries and distilling vats produced many of the poisonous draughts enjoyed by the Hith
as fashionable intoxicants during their feasting and revelry. Thus, the esteemed alchemist
and his cadre of apprentices often made popular entrances into the court of the ancient
Serpent King, bearing with them casks of delicious, venomous vintages freshly concocted
for the royal courts enjoyment.
Oftimes the reptile kings celebrations began with
philosophic discussion regarding the nature of Hithian existence, moving on to scientific
or sorcerous principles. When the ruby-crowned monarch tired of such discourse, various
conjured demons would be brought forth to rant and caper before the tall throne, supplying
an arcane entertainment for the languid nobles of Slithik Hhai. Following the
delights of demonic dancing and infernal soliloquies, the royal chamber would play host to
a great feast.
The feasting of the Hith was not an altogether wholesome thing for
the warm-blooded to contemplate, for the serpent-folks custom was to devour their
sustenance while it yet remained alive. To enjoy the struggling of ones chosen meal
as it was swallowed and drawn slowly into the expanding stomach was essential to
pleasurable dining. Once engulfed in the gullet of a Hith, the prey would die slowly as
the the digestive process began. For many hours lasted the grand feasts of the Serpent
King, bloated nobles lying about the pillared hall enjoying the subtle feel of their
dissolving provender, until their elastic frames returned once more to singular slimness.
Prey which screamed heartily as it was devoured was especially
prized by the serpent-folk. Such a food source had they discovered among the fertile
mountains of the East: a smallish race of thin-furred humanoids, akin to the ape though
walking upright, and possessed of rudimentary intelligence. Against the hunters of Hith
the timid cave-dwellers had fought, until it became evident that their stone-fashioned
spears and flint axes were of no use against the horrible demons which served the
serpent-men. They had taken to hiding in the deepest of their caverns to escape capture by
their reptilian overlords. Yet little could save them from the nets and sorceries of the
advanced and supreme Hith. Always the Hith returned, having discovered a marvelous source
of delicacy, and always they carried squirming groups of live captives back to their
terrible city to await a hideous doom in the kings banquet chamber.
On a certain night of feasting in the royal court, Xhyl the
Wise took notice of a new sound among the fervent screams of the little bipeds, as they
were lazily devoured among the glistening marble walls of the kings hall. No sign of
intelligible language had been observed in the soft-furred mammals thus far, but the keen
mind of Xhyl took note of many things which others of his kind did not. A word, it
seemed, now became clear to him amidst the keening wails of the ape-things, repeated again
and again by various of the tasty morsels. A mental note he made of the discovery, and
finished the sumptuous repast in a contented torpor.
Perhaps the alchemist would have forgotten his recognition of the
cave-dwellers language skill, if he had not heard again the same strange word
issuing from the mouths of the helpless creatures at the next royal feast. There remained
no doubt in the formidable mind of Xhyl that these little beasts possessed some sort
of primitive tongue, a crude language which had seemingly evolved in the space of less
than a single generation. For many long years had the Hith been dining upon the
mammalians, and this evidence of language was a new thing. Always now, while being lazily
devoured, the creatures screamed that same word which had first caught Xhyls
attention, some chanting it repeatedly like an infantile incantation.
"Zothoqqua!" spoke the dying bipeds, almost pleadingly,
as if in supplication. "Zothoqqua!"
As to the nature of meaning in the cave-dwellers chant,
Xhyl could assign none, though he could not ignore the mystery posed by the presence
of such chanting. Before long he took audience with the Serpent King.
Informing the dark-eyed monarch of his discovery, the well-spoken
Xhyl did beseech a cadre of guards and sorcerers for an expedition into the
mountainous eastern jungles. "We must seek to document this swift development of
thought and language processes in the lower species." said the alchemist. "Not
only to avail ourselves the knowledge of primitive cognitive development, but to insure
that no unnatural forces have interfered in the cave-dwellers evolution. For such an
intrusion into the natural order of things might speak of a cosmic threat which seeks to
undermine the status of we Hith as the most highly-developed race of our world. I submit
to you, Great Lord, that the fate of our glorious kingdom depends on such an inquiry into
this unexpected phenomenon."
Because of his noble standing with the King and his esteemed
reputation as heirophant of Hithian thinkers, Xhyls request was granted; on
the condition that the expedition return with one hundred fresh specimens for the
Kings larder. "Go forth, Wise Xhyl," hissed the regal Lord of
Serpents, "and take with you a legion of our finest soldiers. Too, shall they
accompany you who are greatest in the arts of wizardry, and twenty demon thralls shall
guide thy path. So shall I entrust within you authority and responsibility to rid the
kingdom of any threat which your fine mind should discern, be it terrestrial or
otherworldy in nature. Go forth with the grace of Holy Yig upon thy noble head. "
So it was that with the rising of the next sun, Xhyl and his
honored procession set out, serpent banners flying atop raised Hithian lances, and a mass
of crimson-hued demons tearing apart the jungle growth to make way for the
expeditions passing. Leaving behind the lofty black towers of Slithik Hhai,
the Hithians moved slowly eastward, crossing vast leagues of primeval swamplands thick
with primordial ooze. Among the towering vegetation of prehistoric wilderness they
traveled, and over steaming ranges of volcanic residue which would one day play host to
undreamt-of nations and empires.
In time they arrived at the tall, lush mountains wherein lay the
warrens of the little mammalian race. Among the soldiers were many experienced hunters of
such game, and soon a network of cavern entrances was discovered on a thickly forested
mountainside overlooking a great heated waterfall which filled the deep ravine below with
mist and thunder. Xhyl, flanked by two hulking demon guards, led the way into the
lower warren caverns, traveling ever-deeper into the uncomfortable coolness of the sunless
region. The greater majority of the Hithian soldiers had remained on guard at the entrance
to the underground realm, with orders for the capture of any cave-dwellers who happened
upon them. It was the Kings fodder which would pay for this mission, and one hundred
captives had Xhyl promised.
By the light of sorcerous flames the Hithians explored the
mammalian environs, searching always for sign or spoor of the cave-dwellers. Yet it seemed
that constant raiding of the furred races home had driven them ever-deeper into the
bowels of the earth, where the heat preferred by serpent-folk returned, arising from the
molten depths of the planet itself. At last, evidence of habitation was found: guano,
bones, rude stone implements and tools, though still no sign of living creatures. It was
the strange sound of a deep chanting which eventually drew the Hithians toward their prey.
A mass of synchronous voices grew in volume as Xhyl led the
scaly questors onward. Emerging at last on a narrow shelf of basalt above a deep-floored
cavern, the Hithians observed in its firelit depths the objects of their long search.
Thousands of the cave-dwellers writhed and chanted in unison before a great stone idol,
whose massive bulk rose almost to the height of the vaulted dome. Like the shape of a
great, bloated toad was the vast eidolon before which they prostrated themselves in
feverish adoration. Its great, heavy-lidded eyes were boulder-sized lumps of gleaming
ebony, and its ears were long and pointed. A great fanged maw stretched nearly from
shoulder to shoulder below its cavernous nostrils. Fascinated by the monolithic creation,
Xhyl could only watch in bewilderment as the lowly race worshipped their abominable
god.
One there was who stood closest to the great idol, his apish face
hidden behind a fanged skull mask trimmed by a mass of gaudy feathers. A tiny infant of
his own kind he held above his head, mewling and wailing among the reverberating chant
whose powerful timbre caused the stony ground to tremble. And Xhyl recognized the
manner of their chant, and knew now the name of their dark god.
"Zothoqqua! Zothoqqua! Zothoqqua!" cried the dancing
worshippers. Without warning, the masked one dashed the tender infant against the
monoliths toad-like foot, where the red stains of previous sacrifices spoke of long
and dire ceremonies. The little corpse was then thrown into the midst of the writhing mob,
who tore it apart with bare fingers, devouring madly the unripe flesh of their own
murdered offspring.
"Sacred scales of Yig!" declared the amazed alchemist.
"Such detestable sacrilege cannot be tolerated!" He waved a taloned hand and the
vanguard of twenty terrible demons descended upon the senseless worshippers, cutting
through their midst as a fierce wind through gentle palms, trampling to grist beneath
their clawed feet the frenzied mammalian throng. As the little race met with horrible
slaughter beneath the claws of the grinning demons their trance was rudely broken, and
they began to scatter, fleeing into crevices and tunnels too small for the great demons to
follow. Yet the dancing shaman near the idol remained lost in his alien incantation until
the Hithian sorcerers cast bolts of baleful flame against the massive toad-like idol, and
its great pieces smashed down upon its last worshiper in a smoking heap of blasted stone.
When the slaughter had ended, the demons lapping up the fresh
blood shed in their gleeful fury, Xhyl commanded them to abbeyance once more, and
made hastily for the open air of the surface world. Many of the foul little worshippers
had escaped; he would send the hunters back in to gather their quota of captives for the
Kings pleasure. Still the threads of mystery haunted the alchemists keen mind.
How had the small race carved such a massive and lifelike image of their god? From whence
came such a strange and disturbing religion, with its attendant horrid ceremonies? Who or
what was the entity called Zothoqqua?
Perhaps these questions will never be answered, reflected the
alchemist. For most of the cave-dwellers are now dead, including the leader of their
hideous ceremonies. Xhyl felt a great weariness grow within him, and desired only to
return to the comfort and reflective peace of his high tower in Slithik Hhai. Time
enough to ponder these strange discoveries once he had fine venom to quaff, and a hearty
meal within his scaled stomach. For Xhyl was indeed wise enough to know that not all
questions are well to have ultimately answered.
And so, having gathered in their leathery nets slightly more than
a hundred survivors of the massacre, the Hithians began their long trek back toward their
distant metropolis. It was on the third day of their return journey that the sky became
dark as of a coming storm, angry thunderheads sweeping across the sky, raining strokes of
dry lightning down into the jungles. Xhyl and three of his sorcerers topped a low
hill to better view the darkened heavens, and saw then a thing like a great comet
plummeting from the black mountains of cloud, burning a great whole in the thick
atmosphere and dropping beyond the western horizon. Moments later the earth shook as if in
the midst of continental convulsions, and the serpent-folk were tossed into the slime of
the jungle floor, many crushed by toppled gigantic trees. For a short while the
aftershocks of the great quake rang through the ground, finally giving way to an
all-pervading silence.
Xhyl arose from where the earths convulsions had
deposited him, his gold and scarlet robes splattered with clinging muck. "I like not
the import of these dire omens," said the alchemist to his sorcerers. "Therefore
bring forth a flying demon to carry us this night to far Slithik Hhai, that we may
give to the King word of our experience!"
As they were bid, the sorcerers weaved a great conjuring, offering
up the souls of several wounded cave-dwellers as enticement to the proper demon. Their
incantations brought forth at length a formless monstrosity whose flesh grew at their
command into sky-blotting wings. They climbed aboard its glistening back and took to the
dark skies, racing past the looming moon faster than the great winds of storm season.
Soon the flying demon brought them near the area where stood the
cloud-topped towers of Slithik Hhai, yet they saw on the horizon none of the
twisting, rising spires of their home city. Drawing nearer atop the flapping monstrosity,
the four Hithians witnessed now the ultimate site which their reptilian brains could not
accept as reality. "Tis some foul sorcery, an impossible illusion of the
unthinkable!" claimed one of the sorcerers. "Such a thing cannot have come to
pass," echoed another. "What nether doom has claimed our senses to enforce such
a terrible vision?" wailed the third.
"Tis no vision, I fear," said Xhyl the Wise.
"But cursed reality descended from the starry void...."
Below the windborne sorcerers lay a shattered panorama of endless
destruction, for the infallible towers of vast Slithik Hhaa lay in black, tumbled
mounds of cyclopean rubble. From horizon to horizon the great city was naught but crumbled
ruins, as if trampled beneath the feet of angry gods. Already the great, cracked blocks of
magic-wrought masonry sank slowly into the mire which had but recently supported their
massive bulk. The great palace of the Serpent King was nowhere to be distinguished among
the leagues of piled debris. Nor did any sign of the Tower of Xhyl present itself to
the alchemists horrified eyes. "Slithik Hhai is no more," muttered
the wisest of the Hith, and the queer expression which passed for weeping among the Hith
claimed the visages of the hovering wizards.
A great rumbling came from below, the vast sea of rubble shifted,
and a massive, black-furred toad-thing emerged, lifting its great-mawed head high into the
air. A lengthless, slime-coated tongue snaked out like the swift East wind and wrapped
around the flying mote which had disturbed its fresh slumber. At last Xhyl the Wise
fully understood the meaning and object of the cave-dwellers strange chant, as great
Zothoqqua drew a tasty morsel into the black canyon which was its mouth. A brief swallow,
and the far-traveled god settled back into its place among the mountains of rubble,
drifting eventually into a deep and sated sleep.
Thus ended the long-lived empire of the serpent-folk, and the liberation of
mankinds predecessors was firmly achieved. Free of the dominating presence of the
carnivorous Hith, our pre-human ancestors continued in their remarkable evolution for
untold millennia, and now do the descendants of those cave-dwelling savages rule the
breadth of the wide world, as did the serpent-lords before them. We, the People of
Tsathoggua, hold it our duty to preserve these forgotten truths, and shall store these
inscribed tablets within our hidden shrine, that the true liberator of mankind may never
be wholly forgotten.
For in the fullness of time descendants of the great gods
summoners did abandon worship of their sleeping savior, and his slumbering bulk was lost
beneath slow-rising mountains. Yet we of the Faithful will not forget the One Who Sleeps,
for soon the stars will align as they did so many eons past, and we shall summon our Lord
forth from his sacred resting place deep within forgotten earthly caverns, as our ancient
forbears did call him down from faraway Cykranosh. The revived hunger of mighty Tsathoggua
shall then be great, and a just vengeance shall be exacted upon all those who have
forsaken their deliverer, paving the way for the birth of a new and more faithful empire.
Check out John Fultz' site, Cosmic Visions, or contact him by email at winner8@sprynet.com.