The Beginning
Many moons ago, before the spark of intellect had been lit - there was once-tribe. “I” was not. Each assigned to a function. From these, names given by the chieftain. “He-Who-Sates-The-Insatiable.” My tribal duty: performing the rituals of feeding that soothe the hunger pangs of Laogzed.
He is ancient - older than the history of any tribe of my kind. Bound are we by threat of his wrath to feed him. Should he stir from his gluttonous slumber, would his wrath obliterate our tribe. Perhaps even all troglodytes would undone be.
By the standards of my kind, I lacked not. Priest-servitors rise above the slave caste. Many of the warrior and stalker castes fear us. I considered this not. The trials each moon would bring clouded all thought, choking it out. This my time occupied: herding beasts and our many enemies to the sacrificial pits. Meat untouched by the fire Laogzed craves, and we alone can it offer him.
A priest-servitor leads the ritual. His lips touch the flesh, tearing it from its lifeblood. What troglodytes consume, too consumes Laogzed. In silence we watch and wait. Will The Evergorger’s girth crush us for an unsatisfactory offering?
We endure. A sigh of reprieve. A momentary lack of dread. Our senses again sharpen. The cycle soon begins anew.
Long had this repeated before my fate altered. All would soon change. From a plundering of rival tribe had the warrior caste returned. Many spoils were piled before the chieftain, his shriek of satisfaction echoing in the caves. Had he but begun to salivate over the wealth when the rumbling of footsteps above was heard.
Our enemies marched below from the abovelands. A larger, stronger troglodyte tribe had this plan conceived: to weaken our numbers and steal our strength once had we returned from raiding. Now they descended upon on.
I called upon Laogzed as the tribe hurried to arm itself. His appetites guide our path, even in our ending breaths. What was sensed I now understand was from him not. An ill omen. Even in the wretched state had he reduced us, this I knew: disaster would befall us should we rush to fight our enemies.
“WEAKNESS,” screamed the chieftain at my word. The aim of all my kind is this: to be as Laogzed. Gorged beyond movement and unknowably opulent.
He-Who-Rules would not hear that which took from his hoard. Our foes sought it and they must be eviscerated. His weak mind thought I too among them - plotting his ruin for a share and place of power among the victors.
The warrior caste given orders by the chieftain: take and cast me to the deepest chasm. To be offered unto Laogzed was I once the battle won. In a dark, empty hole was I thrown. My eyes could not the darkness pierce. The clash of metal and fang heard above.
Suddenly, a shaking. The earthen skies tumbled, small pieces of them landing at my feet. Wails of pain and the crunches of bone echoed in our territory. Moons rose and set. Silence. Stillness. Nothingness.
From the depths that trapped me, I cried out. None came to me.
I knew not what befell my once-clan and enemies. To find out I then decided. From the dark pit of unknowing would I climb and see what awaited.