Into the Water

Agamemnon watched impassively as Laniss drank from the Mind's well of synaptic fluid and then lay convulsing on the ground.

Killingsworth tried to keep an eye on Laniss, Agamemnon and Mortimer at the same time, but they had spread themselves around the room.  Around him, he realised.  He looked to Shades, but he couldn't meet his eye.  Aggy had moved himself to stand next to Shades, so that now Shades was hard to see past the bulk of the half-orc's armour.

Eventually Laniss rose.  He stood stiff, and straight, and his face was dripping sweat.  "We have work to do" he intoned as if nothing had happened, looked to Shades, who nodded, and then he turned and began walking from the room.

Killingsworth tried to reach Shades but as he turned to look at his skipper his eyes met Agamemnon's.  The priest was looking at him, a look of concern on his face, but then he smiled, his sharpened orcish teeth clipping his top lip as he slowly leaned in and whispered something to Shades in a language Killingsworth couldn't recognise.  Then they both turned to look at him.

Laniss spoke in a booming voice, but ... but Laniss was outside.  The voice was coming from the well.  It was the Mind, speaking to them in the voice of Laniss, telling them to go, that they were done, but that they would meet again.

Killingsworth edged backwards, trying to put his back to the wall.  His hands fumbled with his sword as he formed the words for a fireball in his mind, but his mind was muddled, the words were slippery.  Where were the words?  He'd cast this spell a thousand times, damnit, where were the words?

He shrieked a little as a slimy, deformed shape shuffled past him, almost brushing him.  The morloch, its slug-like flesh disgusting to look at, its eyes bulging, its gait horrible.  It was moving to Shades, but instead of recoiling the tengu leaned towards the abomination and soothingly called out to it: "Schawarma."  Was that its name?  How did Shades know its name?

He had to get out of here.  He had to get out.  He turned, and there was Mort, glaring at him.  He caught a flicker out the corner of his eye and a whispering sound, he was sure he heard it, someone whispering.  Then everyone was looking at him.

"We're worried about you," said Shades.

Agamemnon nodded, his head bobbing inhumanly.  "Yes.  We're worried.  You don't look well.  Friend."  That last word was added almost as if he didn't know the meaning of it.

Killingsworth backed away from them but felt the cold adamantine of Mortimer's armour behind him and a heavy, unnaturally strong had gripped his shoulder.  "You should talk.  Talk to the Mind."

"We did," said Laniss, or maybe it was still the disembodied voice of Laniss - he just couldn't tell anymore.

Then they were lifting him.  He felt hands under him, many hands as they all reached for him and lifted him, carried him towards the well.  He screamed, he thought he did, but he couldn't be sure he was making any sound.  He screamed as his face was lowered into the vat, as the acidic, foul ichor flooded his mouth.  He wanted to close his mouth so badly, but he couldn't.  All he could do was scream into the water and drown with the Mind's voice laughing in his head.