Paladin’s Burden

The priest kept silent as he circled the basket before him. His finger raised as he kept a silent count in his head, picking out each yipping mouth that lunged hungrily for the extended digit. His gaze narrowed further and further as the basket’s total reached four, then eight, then fifteen.

“Fifteen of them?” the priest asked, fed up but doing his best to remain calm and understanding.

“Y-yes, Father.”

The priest pulled the blanket back, revealing a trio of snapping dragonets that looked somewhat humanoid.

“From the same mother?”

“N-no.” The paladin glanced away. “They merely happened to hatch all at once.”

The priest blew a breath out through his nose and revealed more of the young ones. Some of them were more akin to merchildren, another handful looked like they had little fledgling feathers growing from their forearms like harpies, and two of them looked almost identical to miniature kobolds. The priest picked up one of those.

“I am here for confessions, but please do not confess to me how this was possible.”

The paladin dropped his gaze to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I-I couldn’t help it. I truly thought I was remaining chaste.”

The priest shook his head and deposited the kobold-child back amongst his kin. However, that was when he noticed one final child among the group, one that had evaded his earlier count.

He stared, finding a great upwelling of curiosity in the face of its inky black skin and vibrant red eyes. It lay there, unblinking and silent, staring from the head of a goat, with the only hint of life being the tendrils that extended seemingly from the air around its very skin, air filled with a thick smog that remained close.

“What is … this one?” The priest didn’t dare touch the child, for fear of what such an unholy-seeming creature could do upon contact. “What monstrosity birthed it?”

“Oh, this one?”

Unafraid, the paladin reached in and took up the tiniest, darkest creature. It cooed in his hands, tendrils wrapping his arms up as if it were nothing more than a loving embrace.

“He’s quite adorable, do you not agree?”

The priest’s eye twitched as the paladin and his demon-spawn cuddled and nuzzled noses.

“If you believe the destruction of all life is adorable. I ask again, who mothered it?”

The paladin set the child back among the basket. “Oh, I remember her so clearly. She was beautiful and above it all, and she said she had a thousand children. She lived in the woods—at least, that’s what she called them—and she was incredible in our union. She revealed so many wonderful sights, some of which I was afraid would drive me mad.”

The priest trembled and took a step back as the paladin stared at the ceiling, reminiscing with a smile on his face. “A-and her name?”

“Oh, it’s at the tip of my tongue. It was almost impossible to understand it, and she said I may not be able to speak it.”

“Out with it, man!”

“Sh-shoe … No, that’s not it. Shub? Shub-Night? Shub-Knee?”

“Shub-Niggurath,” the priest muttered.

The paladin lit up and snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s her. Wonderful woman.”

The priest shut his eyes, took a deep breath, counted to ten to calm his growing rage, and breathed out his anger. “All right.” He gently folded the blanket back over the children, then handed the basket back to the paladin. “Here. Take them.”

“Wh— But what am I to do with them?”

“I’ll be damned if I know.” The priest dragged his hands down his face and wandered off. “I need a vacation.”