//------------------------------// // 66 - The Two Hungers // Story: Lateral Movement // by Alzrius //------------------------------// As her subordinate finished his report about what had happened with the poh-nee ship, Sitkra wondered if she should eat him. A failed raid was shameful, but not necessarily a death sentence in sahuagin culture. But not fighting to the death against creatures – especially weak creatures such as these poh-nees – that dared to use the powers that should, by all rights, be reserved for holy ones such as herself or the Great Lord of the Deep was inexcusable. Death by devouring was a better fate than such failure deserved. But although her mouth was already salivating at the thought of tasting flesh from her own kind again, Sitkra held her hunger in check. The loss of over twenty sahuagin was not something that could be easily replaced. Although it would soon be time for the most recent communal clutch of eggs to hatch, those spawn that survived the Rite of First Hunger would still need years before they grew into adults. Until that time, it was important that their losses were minimized. Despite that knowledge, Sitkra never considered taking a less aggressive posture. She knew that if you weren’t devouring another, then you were at risk of being devoured. Even if that hadn’t been true, the existence of poh-nees that mocked her divinely-granted power – the proof of her greatness and exalted status – could not be countenanced, at least not so close to the borders of their new home. “You will undergo the Rite of Broken Teeth for your failure,” she intoned, watching as the lesser sahuagin shuddered. But he didn’t protest, knowing that having done so would have immediately provoked her to not only kill him, but declare him itkul – filth unfit for consumption. Instead, he bowed his head before turning to swim away and ready himself for the ordeal that he would soon experience. Left alone, Sitkra pondered what her next move should be. As one of the Mighty Ones, the eldest of the holy ones in their community, she had the authority to make decisions of consequence on her own. But at the same time, such decisions would mean that any subsequent failures would be hers to bear when the Great Lord of the Deep learned about them. And he would learn about them, Sitkra knew. Even if he didn’t find out on his own, it was likely that one of those disgusting creatures that he kept as servitors would figure it out and inform him. Unless… Baring her teeth in delight as an idea came to her, Sitkra swam towards the section of the community where the undesirables were allowed to exist. She hated coming here, but the thought of what she’d soon accomplish drove her to put aside her disgust. Soon, with any luck, she’d never need to look upon at least some of these ugly freaks again. Spotting a shape below her, Sitkra moved towards it, and sneered as it came into view. It was the Cripple. It claimed to have a real name, of course, but Sitkra knew better. Names were for sahuagin only. Everything else was defined only by what it was, even the Great Lord of the Deep. As she approached, Sitkra had to fight back a laugh as she saw what the Cripple was doing. It was feeding! The sight was hilarious for how pathetic it was; the thing was eating seaweed. Even as Sitkra watched, it bit a chunk of kelp, chewing it for several moments before swallowing and moving to eat more. To Sitkra, the sight was nothing less than further confirmation of the creature’s status as an inferior being. Sahuagin ate only what they killed, and would die before being reduced to feeding on detritus the way the Cripple was. Swimming in front of the creature, Sitkra grinned at it, pleased to have caught it during such a humiliating moment. “Greetings, Cripple.” The thing’s features twisted in hate as it saw her. “What do you want, Sitkra?” it hissed, its susurrus murmuring as harsh and grating as ever. Despite having no desire to remain in the creature’s presence longer than necessary, Sitkra’s desire to demean the thing was greater, and she paused for a moment before making a show of looking between the Cripple and the seaweed. “There’s a situation that requires your attention. But do not cease tending to your hunger on my account,” she said, making no effort to hide her mockery. “If you have some business with me, get to it. If not, then go away!” The hostility of the Cripple’s words let Sitkra know that it understood that it was being taunted, and she couldn’t help but grin. The creature’s existence was an insult to her, as its abilities debased her possession of holy power – even the name “maa-jik” was an affront to Sitkra’s sensibilities, since non-sahuagin had no right to name anything, let alone something sacred – and so whatever displeasure it suffered was deserved. As it was, Sitkra wished she could just devour the creature, but the Great Lord of the Deep didn’t want that, and so she had no choice but to obey. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t arrange for its demise by subtler means. “Some new poh-nees have arrived at the feeding grounds. We sent a raiding party to deal with them, but they were killed.” “Mere ponies killed the mighty sahuagins?” smirked the Cripple, and Sitkra had to fight down a killing rage at the sight, her good humor spoiled by the thing’s insolence. “Two of them had ‘maa-jik,’” she responded tightly. Now it was the Cripple’s turn to grin. “How awful,” it rasped, its sarcasm obvious. “For the mighty sahuagin to be killed by ponies, and using the power that should only belong to you…I can’t imagine what you must be going through.” Forcing herself to remain calm, Sitkra continued. “I’ve spoken to the Great Lord of the Deep,” she lied. “He wants you to deal with these maa-jik poh-nees.” Surprise crossed the Cripple’s face. “Me?” Sitkra nodded, then feigned concern. “Of course, I understand that this is a serious task for a creature such as yourself. So I’m going to send Lirtkra with you.” The Cripple’s eyes narrowed, its expression turning suspicious instantly. “Why?” “Because the Great Lord of the Deep personally instructed me to relay this task to you, which means that I would bear some responsibility should you fail, which you certainly will if you do not receive my aid,” she said easily, having already anticipated that the creature would be distrustful of her offer of aid; it had been around them long enough to know that sahuagin didn't offer assistance, ever. “This way, I can guarantee that the task will be accomplished, since even you won’t be able to fail with one of our finest warriors at your side.” The excuse was a plausible one, and Sitkra watched as the Cripple digested the words, weighing them in its mind. It was probably trying to decide whether or not to go to the Great Lord of the Deep directly and ask for confirmation about what it had just been told, but Sitkra knew it wouldn’t do that. To do so would run the risk of angering him, and no creature in its right mind would ever risk such a thing. The last one to do so had been a sahuagin that had protested having to allow those non-sahuagin undesirables to live in proximity to them, and the memory of that dissident’s fate was enough to make Sitkra shudder. That fool had died slowly and in great agony, held captive in the Great Lord of the Deep’s power and forced to go ashore and lie on the ground, unmoving. Sitkra had been tasked with periodically using her holy power to make sure that the condemned sahuagin could breathe the air, since normally their kind could only hold their breath for several minutes at a time. As such, she had personally witnessed its slow death by dehydration, a process that had taken several days to complete, all within a spear’s throw of the water’s edge. They hadn’t even been allowed to eat the agitator after his death. Instead, they’d been told to dig up the ground at the shore and bury the body in it! It was the final culmination of the horrors that fool had endured, and from the look on the corpse’s face, it had known what was in store for it before it had finally died. After that, no one had ever questioned the Great Lord of the Deep again. “Alright,” sighed the Cripple at last, drawing Sitkra from her unpleasant memories. “But I’m not going now. It’s still daylight up there.” “As you wish,” granted Sitkra with a shrug. “But you will not delay in this task. Find the maa-jik poh-nees and kill them as soon as the shore-realm is dark again, then bring their bodies back to us so that we may devour them.” With her ultimatum delivered, Sitkra turned to swim away, smirking to herself. But she hadn’t gotten more than a short distance away before she heard the Cripple’s sibilant words again. “I’m taking Monitor with me when I go.” Cursing internally, Sitkra glanced back over her shoulder, making sure to keep her expression relaxed. “I care not. Take as many more of you freaks as you please.” “Do NOT compare me to that thing! I’m taking Monitor because I trust you and your kind even less than I trust him!” But Sitkra was already swimming away, mulling that last development as she left. Ultimately, she doubted that it would change very much; Lirtkra was a powerful enough warrior that killing Monitor in addition to the Cripple should be within his capabilities. And if they managed to find the maa-jik poh-nees before then, so much the better; they would be killed first. Perhaps they’d even kill each other first and save Lirtkra the trouble. However it turned out, in all likelihood some of those loathsome creatures – be they poh-nees or undesirables – would end up dead, which could only improve things for the sahuagin in general and Sitkra in particular. The Great Lord of the Deep had no need to rely on such unsightly creatures, she was sure; only the sahuagin were worthy of his attention. Sitkra grinned as she made her way back to her living area. Turning her enemies against each other like this, and making sure that she had a capable subordinate there to make certain that things went as she wished them to, was brilliant even for her. Surely the Shark God must have sent her such a brilliant plan! After all, she was one of his greatest holy ones. She was still pleased with herself even as she prepared her tools and made her way to the center of their community, where the sahuagin she’d condemned earlier was awaiting his punishment. Waiting for the last of the community to arrive – knowing that none among them would want to miss this – Sitkra began the Rite of Broken Teeth. After the ceremonial chants were complete, she hefted her dagger, made of bone and sharkskin, and began to dig the sahuagin’s teeth out of his head one at a time. His screams were enough to animate the crowd, but it was the cloud of blood that began to billow through the water that truly excited them. The scent of it drove them wild, and they began to circle Sitkra and her victim, swimming in frantic motions as the heady smell worked them into a frenzy. For her part, Sitkra was able to maintain her composure, though it took a great act of will to be so calm when she was so close to the source of the shed blood. Each tooth took several tries to dislodge, and on more than a few of them Sitkra couldn’t help but take longer than necessary to dig one out, just to cause more blood and screams to be released. This sahuagin would not soon fail her again, she knew. Even after the pain had ended, it would need to struggle to eat until its new teeth grew in, having to rely on claws and weapons alone to bring down its prey and grind the bodies up into a digestible mush. The blood cloud was thicker now, and Sitkra was practically covered by it. It was enough to make her shudder in pleasure, remembering the stories she’d been told as a new priestess about how the afterlife for devout, strong priestesses was swimming through an endless ocean of blood at the Shark God’s side, killing and feeding as they wished. She wanted so badly to sink her teeth into the sahuagin under her, to live out her fantasies of the afterlife for just a brief moment, but held her urges in check. She would feed her appetites – both for meat and for power – soon, when she devoured those maa-jik poh-nees.