Spiral of Light

Chapter 10: The Piddle Bucket Incident

As soon as they were inside the building, they were hit with a hot wave of musky stench that smelt as if several dozen different animals were in various states of decomposition.

Moloch found it hard not to gag on the odor, despite the air filters on his helmet. If Krasus was affected by the stink, he didn't say anything, but he had taken out a pair of night shades and put them on so he could see clearly in the low light conditions.

They had entered a filthy wide antechamber; that was filled with columns that supported the mezzanine level above them. Beyond were several massive spiraling staircases that led up and away to the next floor of the structure. Moloch fiddled with the tuning element on his helmet's thermal scanner, and he could see after he made his adjustments, a faint mass of heat generated from a multitude of bodies that was beyond them through the far wall.

Foresters' intel seemed to be sound. Those beggars did do good work, he thought.

A shuffling sound grew louder as what sounded like two large creatures approached them, growling, and kicking their way through rubble and debris as they moved along through their patrol.

"I don't know why we always get sent out on patrol." A deep voice said, that sounded like two rocks grinding against each other.

"That is simple." A second equally deep voice said in an irritated growl.

"The Den Master hates you."

"Well, what for?"

"You really gonna play dumb with me?"

"You mean the piddle-bucket incident?"

"I mean the piddle-bucket incident."

"I was just having some harmless fun; I didn't mean to throw that welp as hard as I did. I didn't know my own strength at the time."

"You threw one of the welps carrying a piddle bucket ten meters up into his nest. It splashed all his hens, ruined his dust stash, and it stank for weeks."

"I got the welps to rebuild it, with resisteel too. It's better than it ever was, and now if any fighting ever breaks out, he can even hide in it like the bloated coward he is."

The other bear laughed in a low horrible tone.

"And then you blamed it on Grux. Oh, was he ever sore at you!"

"Bah Grux, I swear he has more lapdog than hippo flowing through his veins."

"Oh no Den master, I would never defile your nest with excrement!" The hybrid said, doing its best at a high-pitched imitation of the other hybrid.

The second voice laughed appreciably.

"Don't worry mate, if fighting ever broke out in here, for you I'd throw another piddle-bucket in his nest, and he can drown in it. He thinks he is so mighty now that he has the Nightwings."

"Who would have thought, the first dose he makes himself that actually works well, would just make a bunch of little versions of himself."

"They are mean feathery buggers as well."

"Like I said, just like him."

The two deep voices laughed again, oblivious to the one hundred concealed legionnaires that they were about to walk into.

"I heard the old Den Master was a real artist, he could make you into anything you could imagine."

"Oh yeah? What would you change about yourself? I saw you rip a constable in half just yesterday, during that dust raid. What more do you want?"