After weeks of exchanging letters with the Royal Ludroth that serves as the Lagiacrus’s PR agent, I finally landed what I felt like would be the interview that would make my journalistic career. It is needless to say that I was apprehensive about interviewing the leviathan who is known as a scourge of the seas surrounding Moga Village, but my thirst for a scoop got the best of me and I accepted the opportunity.
By following the translucent map that hovered in the air in front of me, I was able to locate our designated meeting place: area ten of the deserted island. When I entered the area on the day of the interview, I noticed a tent had been erected on the beach. It appeared to be made out of a conglomeration of Jaggi and Jaggia hides and was jauntily decorated with Quropeco feathers. I walked forward, trying not to let my trembling hands relay the fear I was feeling. I had been told that a Lagiacrus can smell your fear, and that to them fear smells like a grilled cheese sandwich. The LAST thing I wanted to smell like right now was food, so I kept my emotions as tightly reined in as possible. I sat down in the hastily constructed chair, and a smile crept across my face as I spied the tea and biscuits that had been laid out on the small table in front of me. I couldn’t help but wonder how any of the monsters in the Deserted Island had managed to arrange the snacks — after all, they lacked opposable thumbs.
Just as I was reaching forward to pour some tea, the Lagiacrus erupted from the water and skidded several feet across the beach before coming to a halt. I had been so distracted with the marvel of monsters preparing tea and opening a biscuit tin I hadn’t been anticipating my subject’s arrival! The Lagiacrus hefted his body around with surprising ease and walked closer to my tent. It was easy to notice that as the monster spent time in the sun his skin changed from blue to gray and his spikes shifted from beige to red in hue.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lagiacrus. May I call you Lagi? How’re you doing today? How on earth did you manage to….”
My terror induced rambling was cut short when Lagi pointed his snout skyward and belched out a ball of electricity. My nostrils were overwhelmed by the smell of the air in my immediate vicinity burning away.
Clearly, the Lagiacrus was in no mood for chit-chat.
“Do NOT call me Lagi. I hate that!” I was surprised by the sound of his voice, so deep and resonant. I could feel the vibration of his words moving through the air around me.
“Sorry sir, I had no idea. Would you care for a biscuit?” I held one out toward the beast, hoping to make a peace offering that would get the interview off on a positive note, and keep me off of the lunch menu.
“No. I have already eaten,” he replied. Despite sounding rather curt, it seemed that the hurt tone had left his voice.
“Ah yes, I can see that you have. You seem to have something in your teeth.” That “something” was , in fact, an Epioth head.
“Well bugger all, that is terribly embarrassing,” Lagiacrus said as he flicked his tongue out to remove the bit of food. “Get on with your pathetic questions. I have things to do, people to kill…boats to smash.”
“All right then, first thing’s first; why have you chosen Moga Village to terrorize? They seem like such peace-loving people.”
“Their pants really bother me.”
“That’s a strange reason to consistently rain terror upon a group of people. Could you please elaborate? What about their pants bothers you so much?”
“Have you seen the pants the chief’s son wears? Any village that would allow someone to walk around in pants that expose their bum deserves to be annihilated.”
“Think about the humans’ weaponry. Surely some of those innovative designs make up for their lack of fashion sense.” I was thinking mainly of the newer switchaxe, but I wanted to leave the question open for the Lagiacrus to answer on his own.
“Well, it is particularly challenging to crush a human wielding a…” the sentence was cut off as a hunting horn sounded in the distance. I knew just as well as the Lagiacrus did that where there’s a hunting horn, there’s a hunter. The Lagiacrus’s nostrils flared as he sampled the scent in the air. Obviously I needed to change the subject.
“How about music? Do you get the chance to listen to any?” I was hoping such a light-hearted topic would distract from the impending bloodlust Lagiacrus was surely feeling.
The Lagiacrus stared at the horizon for a moment, glanced back at the tunnel going between area ten and nine, then shifted his reptilian gaze back to me. His head canted to the side in a rather jaunty way, as if some internal debate was taking place. “Really, I cannot think of anything more melodic than the screams of men as they realize they are doomed to drown with their pathetic ship,” he finally replied. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the beast was smirking.
“Have many other villages or towns been on the receiving end of your wrath? Surely a Lagiacrus of your stature has been around the block a few times!” No sooner than the words had left my mouth did I realize I just made a very big mistake.
“What exactly are you implying…human?” he spat the word out as if it was profane, or a bad tasting piece of fish.
“Well I only meant that many settlements must have fallen under the pressure of your power.” At this point I was trying really, really hard not to wet myself. I wondered if this was why the inhabitants of Moga Village preferred as little fabric touching their hindquarters as possible–it would surely make for easier cleanup if you messed yourself in a fight. The voltage gurgling at the Lagiacrus’s mouth did not ease my anxiety in the slightest.
“It sounds to me that you think I am promiscuous.”
I feverishly searched for the delete button on the ridiculously designed Moga keyboard I was typing my notes on. You know the type: the letters are in a nonsensical order and you can only use one finger to type. Anyway, once I found the delete button I began hammering on it to remove my last question. “I’ve removed the question from the record. Maybe you’d like to answer some questions from my readers?” I asked this in hopes that the reader would be blamed if I asked something that was potentially offensive.
Suddenly, a group of four hunters emerged from the water and charged the Lagiacrus. Even before the red exclamation point appeared over his head, I had known this interview was heading nowhere fast. I had been trying so hard to relate to him, but one thing stood out even more so now than it had before: he was monster, I was man, and if our two species hoped to coexist it would mean one of us was existing as bloody smear on the ground. As I watched the foray taking place in front of me, I quickly shoved as many biscuits as I could into my pocket and collected my belongings. I raised my hand in a farewell and silently wished the hunters good luck before scampering out of the way of danger.