Snake Report: Day Nineteen
I won't talk in detail what happened to the Three-headed Frog.
It's not right.
No... It's too soon.
Much too soon.
I will simply say that he was a Hero among Frogs. Never will I forget his noble sacrifice in the efforts of misguided justice.
Though I know little of the Frog-Gods, I believe he has performed in noble enough fashion to be seated at their great Froggy-table in the sky: To munch on insects and other gross amphibian-food for all eternity.
The memory of his efforts will not be lost so long as I live.
I truly believe that.
Don't touch the floor with all the symbols on it. This thought I had, once based on nothing more than fear... I now understand it was a very important decision, and will be a rule from this point on: "Do not touch the floor."
Good. It has been established.
Touching the floor is a very dangerous thing to do.
Something only to be done by mad-men... or Frogs.
To give it a level of danger... If a "One" can be the least, like a paper-cut, and "Ten" could be the fire I started... Well, touching the floor is probably a "Twelve."
I've had a large time to think about this, reflecting on the subject while I take the day off.
Life is short. I realize this now. So, instead of operation [Earth Manipulation that can pierce the heavens] I am carving a shrine.
A shrine to the Tiny Snake god and his trusted prophets: Two-headed Frog, and Three-headed Frog.
Though their shape is rough, I've made them look like quality. Two Froggy Buddhas sitting beneath a small serpent upon a throne. I've raised the ceiling to match a cathedral-style arch. Perhaps it is now three slithers high, four slithers wide.
My magic is all but completely expended on this effort. I can barely move.
This is alright. I might be losing my mind, but this is fine.
Camp Big-foot is now a sacred place. Holy ground.
[Earth Manipulation: Rank VI]
Ah. A sign I have pleased them.
I've most been under some level of stress since being born here. It's now more obvious than ever before. Laying here in the cathedral of the Tiny-Snake-God, I am feeling much like a person aware of approaching mental instability.
This is such a terrifying place.
Just out of paranoia, I chose not to touch the floor of the Giant Skeleton's lair.
Fear has kept me alive.
It's not the floor, exactly, that is dangerous. It's what the floor does.
For the unfortunate individual who steps on the rune-covered surface, fate is sealed.
Literally, I think.
A barrier of glowing magics lift along the edges of the floor. The kind which will not let even the bravest of Frogs back out. A hidden trap: No escape from the space.
The Giant-Skeleton stops hitting the door immediately, and turns exactly like I imagined it might: With dark and haunting flames in its eye sockets.
Then it attacks.
Rest in peace Frog.