You were a fool, they told him. You should have come to us sooner. It was his hand, they said, he had ignored it for too long. He did not realize that it had ceased to be a mere fleshwound, that left untreated the infection would probably destroy him. In the future he must remember to dress his wounds, to clean them.
That was not what he had wanted guidance in, though. He asked the elders why the Tufubukulin would not help him, why they would not help themselves. Why they would not name their enemies. Grakakakalis told him that even more than all other kobolds, they feared. Their enemy was different, for this enemy lived almost next to them. They would not risk its wrath. Just around the mountain from them stood Murime, the Bronze King.
Deebus supposed that made sense. The shrine full of the bones of kobolds was within a few hours walk of Scornhollowed, though with their secrecy he could not tell just who they feared. A den of trolls had been practically on their doorstep, after all.
Grakakakalis told Deebus how, generations ago, Murime had enslaved the Tufubukulin, forced them to pay him tribute and build him a mighty shrine. He was one of the great beasts of the world, though when not venturing out to torment the People he stood completely still amidst his litter of bones.
Deebus admitted that he had no idea how to defeat such a foe, though he knew he would eventually try. Grakakakalis agreed that if anyone could slay Murime, it was he. But if Justice did rest with Deebus, then he should not dwell on such a task at the moment. He would need rest, and he would need his fingers healed.
And so Deebus rested in his home for thirteen days as the Elders treated his infections, which had indeed been growing severe. At last, though, he was healed. It was time to return to his journey. But he would not try to kill Murime, at least not yet. No, it was time for another approach. Deebus made his way down to the hoard at the very bottom of the cave, his purpose clear. Looking back at all the eyes glowing from the shadows behind him, Deebus bade farewell and set off into the great unknown darkness in front of him.
Thus, in 200, Deebus made a journey to the depths of the world.
~ CHAPTER 3 ~
25th Galena, 200
He quickly found the corpse of the cave crocodile he had slain a few weeks ago, miraculously unrotten, and hacked it up for food. He did not know, when, if at all, he might find something else to eat down here.