The Last Primal

(AN.: Read the Author's Comment at the end, please. Thank you!)

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As the moderately-sized twenty plus one strong group of Temple Guards led by Captain Ixorak set out to raid the outer, less fortunate district of the city, they were blissfully unaware and oblivious to the presence of Madam Dara and her four strongest Daughters following behind them, jumping from obstacle to obstacle, shadow to shadow.

Like from a moment from nature, the group of lionesses was sneaking after the group, waiting for the perfect opportunity to lunch a surprise ambush. Their plan was that once Ixorak lead his men to the first checkpoint, and the trap would be sprung, they too would join, and catch them by surprise by cutting off their escape route, thus forcing them to try to push them through whilst suffering the maximum amount of damage in the process.

The group marched forward in a steady manner, with the flashes of their alarmed states showing in the quick movement in their eyes. After all, they weren't greenhorns, newly joined regimens of the Temple Guards' ranks, but veterans with years of active field experience. They have taken part in several skirmishes, even some campaigns to take control over the smaller tribes spread all around the Underworld. 

Though they had no evidence to support this conjecture, this feeling they were feeling, still all of them, including Captain Ixorak were somehow alarmed. All of their senses were screaming at them, warning them of the imminent dangers, and threats they were walking towards.

This uncomfortable, ominous sensation, this feeling of a threat made Captain Ixorak ponder, to lament on the words and direct commands of his General once again, as they continued marching towards Ugburg's outer slums. 

'[Reptilian] Could there really be something hiding behind those walls?' He pondered inwardly as he gazed at the rocky cavern walls at the side. A moment later he shook his head with a wry smile dominating his expression. 

'No… I don't think so. Where would they be coming from? The city? What force could there be that could threaten us? It must be just his paranoia. Ever since he had received the promotion from the High Priest to evolve, he had this growing paranoia. He was sure that the other generals were jealous of his power, his faith, and the respect he earned from both the High Priest and even the Ancient One. They wanted to bask in the same glory as he, even though they did not earn it themselves.

At the very least, that was what he truly believed in. Since his evolution and new appearance as a genuine Saurus Warlord, Zokor have seemed to notice the shadows bending against his will. He seemed to notice unwelcome, hostile sparks and squints in everyone's eyes. He trusted no soul, not even the High Priest himself. In his twisted, corrupted mind, only the Ancient One, their God itself was worthy of his trust.

Ixorak shook his head, returning his attention to the small rocky intersection that they were getting closer to. As they spotted the large rocky formation that formed a sort of natural-looking arching gate in front of them have made the bad premonition, the ominous feel that he and his men have all suffered throughout this short few minutes of the journey have flared up with newfound intensity all so suddenly.

Feeling the uncomfortable sensation tingling all his small but toned, golden-brown scaled body, Ixorak raised his right hand in the air, ordering a halt to his group's march. 

With squinted, stern eyes he scanned the rocky formation growing from the ground in front of them, trying to find a source of their misery, albeit founding nothing even after a full minute. The tense silence has made the atmosphere heavy, somber even. As Captain Ixorak looked at his men, his friends he saw only frowns, and sour gazes. The familiar curvatures of a smile, anything that would have shown a somewhat positive attitude was nowhere to be seen.

Seeing their faces, Ixorak heaved a soft sigh and shook his head as he stepped in front of the group. Gasping a larger amount of the stale underground air, Captain Ixorak puffed his chest slightly, ready to release a booming voice to speak and try to raise the morale, even if just for a bit.

"[Reptilian] Men! I know what you feel, I can sense the same. I know what you all want, but do not dare to voice out. Trust me, I…" Suddenly, his voice trailed off, causing the men to look perturbed at his action. 

Yet, before any of them could give voice to their growing confusion, suddenly they felt the air tremble behind them. Not even a moment later, they felt the coldness of a blade sail across the air, ultimately find its way to their intended destination penetrating the joints between the metal plates of their upper back and waist armor plates and plunged deep into the flesh of one of their brethren.

"Aaargh!" With a loud, deep-throated, guttural, and blood-curdling shriek, the skink warrior was caught off guard and directly fell face-first down to the ground. The dark, ebony handle of a throwing dagger glowering eerily from his back as the unfortunate first victim slowly succumbed to the surprisingly grieve damage and breathed his last.

"[Reptilian] Ambush! Everyone guard your rears!" After the momentary shock passed through him, Captain Ixorak was the quickest to regain his senses. He jumped up in alert, nervously grabbing the handle of his lance and raised diagonally in front of his body. His eyes swayed like lightning from the left all the way to the right, scanning each crevice, nook, and cranny for shadows to betray their masters. 

His bellowing roar shook his men, bringing them back from their shocked stupor. They instantly turned around, throwing their back against each other. Their weapon raised, their previously loose, bored stance were now carrying much more vigilance and vigor. Like an angry hedgehog, the lances, like spikes were aimed in front of their bodies.

Still, despite their newly raised vigilance, and the sudden attack… or even the fact that after the first sudden, surprise attack there seemed to be no follow-up and no other souls could be seen or sensed, Captain Ixorak was aware that they couldn't sit still, but instead needed to set out.

Since turning back, even if they were to suffer more attacks, was completely out of the question, they could only grit their teeth and resume their journey. Even if this was all a plan, and they were willingly walking into a trap, ready to be slaughtered like lambs, Captain Ixorak knew that it was still a better outcome than to face the wrath of their monster back in the camp. He would rather try his best and die in battle than end up as the lunch or dinner of that cannibal.

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