Grimrock

This is a prequel story to my mod here:viewtopic.php?f=14&t=4439. But intended to be read after. It gives some more of the story explains some of the characters. I am very aware my writing is stiff and far from perfect.
It is somewhat more grounded in the grimrock world than my dungeon.

WARNING: There is profuse language and some violence. Not for young readers.

Without further ado:

The Rise of Simon:
Part 0:The Passion of Simon Levistus

Mak'Keal, atypical.
He surveyed his surroundings. He was a lizard.
To him the world was seen through another lens.

Not three weeks had passed since the last scaramorg nest had fallen.
He was not feeling relaxed enough for dormancy, none the less it
was time. This little grove had a nice border with a lake, it would
be a fine spot.
One good thing, at least he was alone. Few of the Others understand
unlike their races(except perhaps a few of the insects), a lizard
is not a social creature. Tribes are for necessity, not companionship.
Now he was at peace.


"Aaaghk" Pain seared through his head. He had only had a day of
peace. "Well, well. Time to wake up bootsie" Spoke a grating
human voice.
He looked up and started to re-asses the 'human' assumption.
Lying sideways on a treebranch was a young man, perhaps late 20s,
lean, thin, but muscular. Tan skin possessing an unnatural reddish
hue. He was smirking deliberately to show of his fanged teeth.
His eyes were strange and yellow, and lastly its skin was
covered in tattoos that looked like foreign letters.
Whatever it was it had just thrown a rock at his head. "Who.."
"No need to know. Just passing the bloody word along."
"You can move without me feeling." said Mak'Keal.
"I am good that way. Or the whole world sucks whichever."
He was getting the impression this was a vulgar thing. Reeking
of the lowest traits of humanity. It didn't really matter though,
judging others was meaningless and distinctly unkind.
"Tell me what you must. But I am entering dormancy."
"Well I'm your fucking wakeup call." It said.
"By now you bi.. 'people' have probably heard that villages have been
disappearing."
"Yes, quite recently a number have been noticed."
The creature laughed " 'a number' you’ll learn."
"Anyway, I can direct you to the problem, you can solution it. And I
can get back to killing time."
He could tell it did not say "killing time" in the normal manner but
had more important matters on his mind. He was entering dormancy right
now, foregoing would mean crankiness and discomfort for months. Which
in turn could put other lives in danger. None the less a hero is a hero,
a role he was well accustomed to. "Where is the threat?"
"There's a little village of meat on the southwest of the Bacodar forest.
You can find the threat and save the little bastards will you're at it.
Be there in twenty-five days."
Bacodar? Was this the same source?
No problems had yet been noticed this far south. "Are you certain this
is the same problem?"
"What the fuck do you think? Yes this is the same problem! It is Simon
Levistus. Your world hasn't charged up the shit they call brains
enough to notice, but hey it'll pay off in the end." The creature shrugs
"I somehow doubt I or anybody else knows what you're talking about, but
I will investigate anyway."
"Well glory be to the fuckin' lizard thing. Just don't think I give a
shit. I just wanna get to the aftermath."
He decided know was apt time to ignore it. With no flash of light, not
even a twitch, it disappeared. He was glad to see it gone.

Mak'Keal, born to a swamp tribe. He was, in a sense of the word, born
to be a hero. The elders ordered his birth so as to fulfill the need
for someone to fight for them. Upon hatching we was given the symbolic
name Mak'keal, not a lizardman name, instead determined by star
alignment. Upon reaching adulthood (as lizardfolk see it) he very
much earned his position. Humans in the area where driven back,
however he did not have the taste for excess bloodshed. After a few
fights he decided to go about it a different way. By bargaining to
complete tasks for the humans he was able to redirect them while his
kind gained strength. Anyway there where far fewer of the things he
had to fight than there were humans, and almost all of them tried to
kill him on sight anyway. And so in time he expanded what he did,
minotaurs and even one insectoid asked for his help. Mak'Keal didn't
even know what an insectoid WAS until then. Heroism, was what most
called it. However he most liked the minotaur term Asterion. It
seemed to best describe what he did and how he did it.

It was time to move.
But how and why?
Mak'Keal backtracked. He moved through the towns and villages to
recapture the companions he had left behind. Nevessus the minotaur,
she could certaintly help. Jossos, Helvus, Jacob, K'Kthashr(the
insectoid). He managed to get that many before it came time.
As he got closer to the village it became clearer to him how
right this was. Simon, Simon Levistus. He was supposed to fight
him, he was sure of it.

25 days
"What should we do now?" asked Jossos.
They had just reached were they could see the outline of the village,
it was clearly already under attack. "Couldn't he have said 24 days?"
Mak'keal thought to himself. Whatever, it wasn't a lie at least.
As the village came into clearer view they could see a small struggle
was still occurring. Numerous bandits, scruffy and wielding large clumsy
swords, where fighting with the few villagers capable of defending
their homes. Off to the right of their view was a man with stubble
dressed in typical very dark trousers and tunic, but with swathes of
black cloth attached. He appeared to be ordering the bandits around. Will
standing in the center, impaling a villager, the target was clear.
Covered in black plate mail encrusted in ruins, wielding a sword of
pulsing energy that looked to be pulling the life-force from the dying
villager, was Simon Levistus.
"Nevessus, you engage the odd one. The rest of you, deal with the bandits.
Don't attack the armoured one unless I am dead." Were he ran off to the
fray. The others, used to simple commands, rushed to their duties.
As the group burst in all eyes turned toward them, almost immediately
six bandits fell to the combined attack, K'Kthashr's magic killing two
alone. Much to the attackers suprise (even Mak'Keal on the edge of his
mind) instead of drawing a weapon, the black clothed fellow pushed
Nevessus' blow aside and engaged with his hands.

Rage
Unbridled the lizardman charged his foe.
Mak'Keal ran almost, entirely ignoring the battle around him, toward
his foe. "Halt this prey-hunt and explain your reason for killing!"
Black-plate turned toward him, revealing no surprise and seemingly
uncaring of the battle around him. "why am I treating him like an
equal? Humans don't HAVE prey-hunts, and likely couldn't justify
the killing of those who can't fight." Mak'keal pondered to himself.
He drew his handaxe, carved with ancient rituals of his kind, as he
reached his foe. Dancing below the swing of Simons blade he made the
first strike. Impacting the humans back just between the helmet and
the breastplate at exactly the moment his momentum brought his body
past him. The green ruins surged, seeming to brace against the blow.
"Damn. He has some sort of wards gaurding his weak spots."
Simon whipped around bringing his the pommel of his sword crashing
into Mak'Keal's skull. Dazed from the pain the lizardman danced
backwards to reasses what to do. "There is no easy approach."
he considered "Best just fight and see."
He charged, this time dancing and weaving to thwart the black-plates
blows. "You are a lunatic. Aren't you?" He said. Simon did not respond,
but did lower his head. He was bringing vicious blows down around
Mak'Keal in a flurry of anger. The lizard finally caught an opening.
Ducking a blow he hacked Simons knee before twisting the blow upward
rending muscle and scratching bone. He received no response to this
attack other than a brief exhalation. Their sparring continued for
a short time, until Simon saw an opportunity. Mak'Keal did even
notice but a villager running by. Simon swung his blade as it deca-
pitated the helpless man the lizard lost focus. Unexpectedly the
swing continued, driving into his gut. Fortunately, he was wearing
quality leather armour and the blow was only exceptionally painful.
What occurred next was worse; the same thing as he saw happen earlier
again appeared. The sword pulled energy from him, only now he saw
the bleeding on Simon's ankle stop.
It was all he could do to pull himself off the blades edge. In the
middle of his pain a realization dawned. "He just wants to kill. It
doesn't even matter if he dies. Hatred is all that matters."
"There is only one course." Both of them charged towards the other.
They raised their weapons, Mak'Keal was faster and forced Simon to
block his blow. At that instant he dropped his weapon and pushed his
body onto the likely surprised human.
"Lizardmen have claws..." he mumbled. Pushing the human down.
They rammed backwards until they hit a hut. Slamming into a wall, they
slid to the ground. Mak'Keal was wrestling his hands through to Simon's
neck. While Simon was busy trying to arrange his unwieldy sword to the
lizardmans back, lacking a smaller weapon. The formers task was simpler
and he began bloodily strangling him with his sharp nails. The pain
meaningless to the man however. He continued his work until he held the
tip of his sword 9in his right hand and pulled toward his face.
Mak'keal screamed in pain as the sword cut leather and flesh, but refused
to release his hold. It took a few more moments of agony, but he then began
to feel blood drip from the humans mouth. A strange bubbling began. He real-
ized he had punctured something involved in breathing. Mak'Keal slumped down.
"Done." he breathed. As he fell unconscious he faintly saw that the odd man
had just died a few moments before his master, completing the fight.

If it was done...
He awoke later that night, under the strange ministration of both Jacob and
K'Kthashr. Goodbyes where exchanged. The few survivors revealed that Nevessus'
foe was their commander. And that Simon never actually acknowledged them,
though they insisted he was the one they were truly following. Mak'Keal moved
on. He again sought peace. There was much to think about.

8 days past
For some reason he felt it this time.
"Returned." he said.
"Yup, awesome killing. Top notch bloodshed. You took his neck apart and made
him drink his fuckin' blood. You are my fucking savior." he sarcastically elated.
"Is there anything meaningful you have to say. I... am weary." He was just passing
on not feeling the need to look back.
"I know you, and did your job."
In an instant he teleported in front of him. There was no time even for someone of
Mak'Keal's talent to dodge the knife. In only the briefest of moments his lung
was punctured.
"None of this shit is personal. It's just what I do." There was a faint smile on his
face.
"Whatever it was over anyway." He decided not to bother speaking back. The lizard
slumped to the ground and passed on.

End.

I started reading this at work on my phone. Then I realized I had work to do.
I hope I play your mod some time!