http://natfka.blogspot.com/2013/07/lizard-men.html

Holding back a tearful sob, she replied, “No.” The hot tears that fell down from her cheeks, burned her skin as she imagined her mother. Her smile that could light up a home, her warm eyes, and her dimpled cheeks, sent a pang of pain through her. But as her gaze locked on the tower, she knew what she had to do, and took the first steps forward, when her father blocked her path. Only, it wasn’t her father anymore. His skin peeling off of him to reveal crimson red scales, she watched in horror as bone white eyebrows protruded out of his skull, and a mane of jet black hair flowed down his spine. The kindly smile of her father's was replaced with vicious black teeth as the demon grinned. “Clever, child, but the game is not over yet. I guard this tower, and by rights I should kill you where you stand. But I am bored, and wish for some small amusement.”

Her fists clenched so tight she could feel her nails digging into her, Daria could not believe what she was hearing. First this thing imitated her father, and now it wished to play a game. If not for her injured arm, she would have been on top of the beast in an instant. Her growing rage, like an angry ember that would burn down a forest. But as she released tight gasps from between her clenched jaw, she asked, “and what game is that?”

“Why the oldest game of all, Veracity and Deceit. Tell me which one is false, and I shall let you pass. Shall I begin?”

Her head slowly nodded in agreement, Daria was beginning to realize how truly strange this world was. And while not all demons were harmless like Renwen. Most of them were odd, especially this one. How long has it guarded this tower? Where would it have led her if she had agreed to go with it? And why not just fight her? Surely, with its size, talons, and ferocity, it could overwhelm her. But as her gaze traveled back to the tower behind it, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all worth it? The fool man after all had knocked her unconscious, and for all he knew she could have winded up in the belly of some underworld monster. But still, for whatever reasons she cared to come up with, she refused to turn back. She could not abandon him to this world.

And so with a heavy heart, she confronted the demon once more, trying to forget her father's face, and replied, “speak.”

The demon, who seemed to sense her urgency, grinned again. “Very well, here is the first. At the beginning of time, there existed nothing but her. She who gave life to this world.”

“But alas once her work was done, she was displeased, and sent the scourge of the Lightbearer to cleanse this world.”

“Born on another planet, he came with fire and sword to unleash death upon us all. And once his work was done, he created an empire of blood.” The demon then leaned forward, and rasped, “So tell me, child, which is true, and which is false.”

Silent as she contemplated her answer, Daria tried to think. But all that whirled through her mind was that the last part had to be a lie. But how much did she truly know about the past? It was as Renwen had said, she knew nothing of this world, and yet, she had to believe. (Once you have the answer, continue reading.)

~*~

Feeling slightly hollow from her encounter with the demon, Daria walked towards the tower. Her mind awash in thoughts, she stared down at her feet, but all she could see was the grinning face of that monster. Everything she had ever known about this world, had been torn apart into ribbons. And yet, when she found herself in front of a stone bridge that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, she felt no relief. The black tower with its rigid spikes that loomed overhead, was built at the edge of a cliff with a suspended bridge in between them, and a fiery lake that bubbled below.

Trying to shake herself out of her stupor, she reminded herself, the demon spoke lies as truths, and truths as lies. That is what Renwen had said, but as she began to cross over to the other side, she began to wonder.

Halfway across the lake of fire, she looked down at the hissing bubbles of magma below, and felt herself become nauseous, when she reached the huge blackened doorway on the other side. The two dragon statues that stood guard to either side, were made of obsidian marble that moved inward as the doors slowly swung open.

Apprehensive at the thought of walking right in, she unslung her warhammer again, and inched her way inside, the doors slamming shut behind her. Feeling on edge, she scanned the empty chamber she was now in, and saw a faint bluish light seeping out of the floor. The painting of the four suns that had been embossed into the surface, formed a tight circle in the middle of the room.

With nothing else here, she began to fear the owl had lied to her, and sent her into a trap, when the light grew stronger, and stronger, until all she could see was a fiery blue light all around her. Gasping for air as though having run a thousand miles, she felt something shift, then suddenly the light was gone. But instead of feeling reassured, all she could feel was shock as she stared around at another circular chamber with six doorways. Inscribed with symbols that showed the rotation of the four suns, she had barely enough time to understand what was going on, when a familiar figure magically reappeared.

His tawny gray feathers sleek as ever, Lutgard hooted in welcome, his head bowed low. “I must say, I did not expect to see you again.”

Warhammer already moving to strike it dead, the owl chuckled, and with a single flap of its wings, it threw her back against the wall. The jarring pain as her shoulder collided with the stone, caused her to growl as she leapt back up. “You! You said if I answered you would help me!”

But the owl simply crooked his head to the side. “Did I now? Well, that won’t do. Lutgard always keeps his word. I shall have to have a talk with him.”

Confused at the way it referred to itself, Daria began to wonder if the owl had gone mad? If so, what was she supposed to do now? With its golden eyes still upon her, she reached again for her warhammer, and felt the owl flap its wings again, slamming her against the wall. Her head ringing like a bell, she could dimly hear the owl talking to itself.

“No, no, no, this is all wrong, Lutgard, we are not supposed to hurt her.”

“Why? She is a butcher like many of her kind, I can still smell the blood of those she has slain upon her flesh. We must kill her first before she kills us.”

“Agreed, but there is a right way of doing it. The dragon riders will be here soon. We can deliver her to them.”

“And what if she tries to escape, let us at least peck out those insolent eyes so that she cannot see.”

Her mind numb with the thought of being pecked to death, she realized she was beside one of the doorways. Its symbol of a star glowed bright above her head. But instead of taking the doorway, she scrambled to her feet, found the one she thought would save her, and thrust her way inside. The owl’s hoots of rage as it realized she was gone, again followed by a flash of light as she stood there upon a golden staircase that stretched for thousands of miles in both directions. The temple that stood off in the far distance, off to her right.

~*~

The golden staircase slick with the blood of more of these snake warriors, Gregor wiped his greatsword clean on his arm. And wondered how many more of these creatures he would need to kill? There seemed to be hundreds of them. But as quickly as he killed them, more of them would come screaming down the staircase in a fury. Some of them even wore purple silk robes and chanted spells, before Gregor blasted them apart with a word. These snake priests or whatever they were, were no match for his power. But still, the further he climbed up, he could feel himself beginning to grow weary. He was a warrior, a barbarian born to the sword, but even he needed rest. But as he gazed around him at the staircase held aloft by strings of white magic, he could see no place where he could lay his head. The dark emptiness of the cavern, almost swallowing him whole.

His arms covered in scratches, he looked down at his feet, and saw one of the snake priests that had managed to sneak up on him. The creature, held aloft by a levitation spell, had dropped down from behind, before Gregor had sliced half its head off. And he noticed within the folds of its purple robes, several bottles of white liquid tucked into its pouch. Familiar enough with potions to know that some could be poisonous to different races, Gregor considered pushing on. But as his eyelids dragged downwards with fatigue, he figured he could have a sip at least. He also cursed himself a little for leaving his supplies with Daria. The big woman had probably not needed it.

Picking up one of the vials in his hand, he pulled off the cork, and touched it to his lips. Its taste of bitter leaves, reminded him of Khorasan, and the devilish concoction he had given him. The echo of laughter as Lytan and Sara wept with glee, brought a rueful smile to his lips. He hadn’t exactly reacted like a proper warrior from his tribe. But as he remembered Myrissa’ comforting smile, and Khorasan’s kind eyes, it made him want to remember. It made him think that he did not need the savage to survive.

But again, he had to shake such thoughts aside. How many times would he allow himself to show such weakness? How many times would he allow another to die because he was too slow? No, the savage may be a monster, but it was a monster he could control.

Feeling the slow burn as the effects of the potion took shape, he felt his strength, and determination return. It may not be what he wanted, but the savage was what he needed, and as his mind began to clear of thoughts once more, he continued up the steps, and after several feet, he reached a flat platform.

With the temple still far off, he faced off against rows of lizard warriors mounted on the backs of drakes. Armored in steel scales and conical helmets, they were led by a bear sized lizard warrior with bulging muscles, and a greatsword strapped to his back.

Dropping off his mount with the deftness of a youth, the veteran warrior patted his pet dragon like it was a member of his family. Then after a moment's pause, he pulled off his helmet, revealing a red fringe of spiky hair, a scarred left eye that had become white, and a right eye that burned with a feverish kind of light.

Familiar with that kind of look, Gregor smiled, and strode forward. The warrior, who raised a hand to his mounted riders, halted two lizardmen that had raised their spears, when he spoke, “This is as far as you go, stranger.”

Lost Flame swinging easily at his side, Gregor looked back down the stairs, and at the path of destruction he had wrought. “Your friends down there, already tried.”

Teeth gritted in a snarl as the lizard warrior spat into the stone, he replied, “they are nothing but faithless savages. We, however, have stayed true to the mother. We have heeded her calling, and have her blessing.” His words, causing the other warriors to chime in together. “Blessed is She-Who-Sleeps, and will one day restore this world to everlasting glory.”

Gregor, who couldn’t give a goblin’s arse who that was, smirked back. “Just fight me already, I have wasted enough time.”

The fury that blazed through the lizard’s single eye, became a deadly smile. “Very well, but first, let us strike a bargain you and I. If you should defeat me, swear that you will not harm any more of my people. Nor those that reside in the temple.”

Unable to help but grin, Gregor shook his head. “And what would I gain from such a bargain?”

His fist pressed to his chest, the lizard warrior replied, “I, Hanzakar, Commander of the Dragon Riders, swear that no one under my command shall hinder your path further. And by the right of Igtue, you will lead my warriors in battle. For by the will of the mother, only the strong may lead.”

And again the lizard warriors chanted and raised their spears. “Blessed is She-Who-Sleeps, and will one day restore this world to everlasting glory.”

His eyes dark as a night sky with no stars, Gregor laughed, his expression cold. "No.” The balls of jet black fire that burst out of his hands, scorching dozens of riders alive.

Gregor’s greatsword, now wreathed in dark blue flames, rushed forward, when it clashed against Hanzakar’s. The lizard warrior’s infuriated expression, turned to blind rage as it hammered at Gregor with a jagged sword. The dying screams of those around them, the hot air, and the blackened stains upon the golden platform, marked their battleground as they danced back and forth.

Gregor’s hungry gaze, never leaving the warriors, he countered, and pushed the lizard rider back, when angry jaws tried to bite him from the side. His curving swing, forced to part the skull of a drake from its neck, before he parried Hanzakar’s next attack. But alas, he could see more trouble as several dragon riders re-grouped, drew horned bows, and released arrows.

Far from being finished however, Gregor smiled as the arrows flew towards him. Dark eyes boring holes into Hanzakar's, he pivoted on his heels, and hamstrung the lizardman. Then using his body as a shield, he shouldered the lizard into his allies, tangling them up in a heap of bodies.

Laughing again, he launched a fireball towards them. Their dying screams becoming panicked, he heard a familiar voice speak to him. “Gregor?”

Looking up, he saw the horrified gaze of Daria, and as shock swept through him, he felt his greatsword clang beside him on the stone. “Daria?”