The Holy Snake, 1,209 words

The massive square tent was packed with over three hundred scaly bodies, mostly Skinks but a few Sauri and Kroxigors towered over them from the back. Every set of golden eyes was pointed expectantly towards the empty stage and podium.

Finally band members entered and the crowd began to clap as the Skinks on stage shook their tambourines, beat their drums and played their flutes and horns. Soon the feathered chorus moved front and began leading the crowd in song.

“Praise the Snake now!
Praise the Snake now!
Praise the Snake now!
Praise the Snake!”

After a few minutes of exuberant singing, the robed and colorfully bedecked Skink walked up to the podium. The band members all pulled out rain sticks that made a soft hissing noise. The crowd fell silent. After a pregnant pause the priest shouted.

“Praise be to Sotek, the Holy Snake!”
“PRAISE BE TO SOTEK!” came the reply.

The priest spoke again.

“Hallelujah! Praise be to Sotek! The Slayer of Rats! The Judge of the Scales! The Saintly Serpent! The Adder of Adoration! The Cobra of Conviction! The Python of Purity! The Rattler of Righteousness! The Bodacious Boa! Praise be to Sotek!”
“PRAISE BE TO SOTEK!” replied the crowd.
“Spawning brothers and sisters, I welcome you into this holy temple! Brothers and sisters, I see we a lot of well-groomed First, a lot of shiny scales. But that don’t impress the Holy Snake!”
“No sir!” said his assistant standing in front of the podium.

The priest reached out a hand and his assistant immediately handed him a scroll.

“Let us consult the holy plaque transcriptions. The Sacred Archives of Oyxl, the Third Chamber, Plaque Twelve, Glyph Forty-three: ‘Let thee not be judged by the scales on one's skins, those scales protect thee from the claws and blades of this world. Let thee be judged by the scales inside you, the inner Scales of Righteous protect thee from the corruption of Chaos’.”

The priest paused, then handed the scroll back to his assistant before addressing the congregation again.

“The Holy Snake judges us by the scales on the inside. Are your hearts truly scaly?”
“Yes!” shouted the crowd.
“Are your hearts TRULY scaly?”
“YES!!!!!” replied the crowd.
“Praise be to Rattler of Righteousness and all glory to his all-consuming fangs of righteousness!”
“PRAISE BE TO SOTEK!"
“If you live a life that is righteous and scaly, you will be assured a place in Lizard Heaven.”

“Hallelujah!” shouted a parishioner. The priest nodded approvingly in her direction then continued.

“Lizard heaven has sweltering heat constantly. The humidity in Lizardmen Heaven is so high you can barely tell when it stops raining. The air smells of beauteous loam and carrion. The skies are filled with clouds of buzzing insects. The floors are covered in writhing and hissing snakes. Punctuating the glorious buzzing and hissing are the roars of deadly carnivores of varying sizes. Everywhere you look there are helpless Skaven to murder!”
“But if your heart is impure, if your soul is not scaly, Sotek will cast you out to Lizard Hell!”

The crowd gasped.

“If you heart is full of sin and lacking in scaly-ness, Sotek will cast you out to LIZARD HELL!”

The crowd was too frozen in fear to make a nose.

“In the temperate desolation that is Lizard Hell, the trees are deciduous! They turn a riotous blend of unholy colors, rich reds, yellows, and fiery oranges. Cool breezes permeate Lizard Hell and keep all the insects away!”
“No!” cried a parishioner.
“Yes! Not only does the sky have no insects, but there are no snakes on the ground either! Only a soft carpet of leaves that makes a gentle crunching sound when walked on.”
“In Lizard Hell, there are no writhing snakes at all….in their place is nothing but frolicking puppies and kittens!”
“No!” several parishioners cried out.
“Yes! In Lizard Hell, there is plenty of meat to eat…”

A few in the crowd looked relieved.

“But it’s all been seasoned and cooked!”
“Sssssave us Sssssotek” the voice of an unseen parishioner was heard.
“The meat is all from the foul unwholesome beasts the non-scaly warmbloods eat. STEAK! BACON! CHICKEN! All served with a side of warm freshly baked bread! Bread that was dappled with butter! Butter, that most sinful of concoctions. Formed by squeezing the lactate juices from a bovine! When the bovine’s foul excretions are not being made into sinful butter, it is coagulated into a variety of horrible cheeses.
“These cheeses are combined with this cooked meat and bread to form sandwiches! Pasta dishes! And most blasphemous of all, PIZZA!
“The beverages in Lizard Hell include not just the lactose products of bovines, but also and hot cocoa and apple cider and BEER. Limitless kegs and kegs of unholy beer!
“There are no snakes, no edible vermin. Only happy and well-fed warmbloods of all ages dancing and singing. There are no roars, no buzzing, no hissing, only the sound of horrible, HORRIBLE LAUGHTER!”
The priest stopped talking but the crowd was silent and still at the edge of their seats.

“Repent thee sinner! For Sotek will throw thee out of Lizard Heaven if thy soul is unrighteous and un-scaled. The only way to save thyself is BY GIVING ME MONEY! HALLELUJAH!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Two Skinks were walking down the dirt path back to their barrio after worship.
“It’s fun to visit house of Grand Worship I guess, but they just seem like moneygrubbers,” said Locrot.
“I don’t know why we bother coming back to G.W,” muttered Dilef.
“Perhaps I can offer a new spiritual path.” came a third voice.
“Who are you?” asked Dilef.
“I represent the Church of Seraphonology. You too can be joined with our many circles.” said the stranger.
“Ugh! Those kooks,” said Locrot.
“We focus on spirituality, not material gain,” said the Seraphonologist.
“Hmmm.” Dilef seemed to be thinking it over.
“That’s not what I heard,” said Locrot.
“Our holy scripture is free to all!” said the Seraphonologist.
“Your holy scripture is only four pages!” Locrot retorted.
“Elegant in its simplicity!” answered the Seraphonologist.
“Lacking depth…” Dilef muttered.
“What do you think this so-called “Lizard Heaven” is if not a bunch of earthly materialistic things? Why dwell in an eternal jungle when you can dwell in the stars?” asked the Seraphonologist.
“I heard you Seraphonologists believe that everyone will live in a Slann’s head,” Dilef said.
“Metaphorically! That’s an oversimplification. You can dwell in the stars telepathically directed by the Slann for all eternity.” Replied he Seraphonologist.
“So no rest, only eternal fighting and struggling.” Locrot retorted.
“Eternally serving the will of the gods, if you die you come back an infinite number of times.”
“Your system has no points in it!” Dilef one.
“What?” the Seraphonologist looked confused.
“If everyone on all sides comes back after falling battle. There is no point to all the fighting.” Locrot stated
“Our system shows many points. We have additional holy compendiums!” said the Seraphonologist.
“And that’s where it stops being free to all. Good bye,” said Locrot.

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I wrote this piece for the Lustria-Online January-February 2019 Short Story Contest. This contest had what I thought was a particularly silly prompt so I opted to write a particularly silly entry.
This comedy piece was a tribute to my favorite amateur D&D parody channel CreativeJuices7 on Youtube. This also included a dash of the robot preacher from Futurama, Mike the TV from Reboot, and my own frustration at the poor initial roll out of Age of Sigmar.