Acolyte of the Pleasure Goddess Ch. 03

Vael caught up with her. "I am sorry for that cad. They sell everything but manners here."

"You don't need to apologize for him," Delyssa said, unable to stop her voice from getting heated. "You don't even have to apologize for yourself."

Vael blinked. "Myself?"

"That wasn't a combat," she said. "I don't need you to protect me from people like that. And I didn't ask you to intimidate him on my behalf."

Vael grimaced. "Very well. Despite your insistence, then, I do feel the need to beg your forgiveness. It was not my intention to wrong you."

Delyssa stared at him and saw the pull of remorse across his features. "Of course it wasn't. Let's just get inside, shall we? I'd like to meet the other companions."

The coffers of the Campaigner's Guild did not hold unlimited wealth, because the gold that lacquered the giant doors was merely paint over bronze. Above the archway that led inside the building was the Guild's crest, an engraved dragon's head with two curls of smoke pouring from its nostrils and a spear driven vertically through its head.

By enchantment, the doors swung open before them as they approached -- a ludicrous but impressive flaunting of magic. Inside, it opened immediately into a grand rotunda, the floor made of the same marble as the exterior walls. All along the perimeter of the room were tapestries of famous deeds, banners of notable adventuring bands, and busts of various heroes. All manner of folk populated the room, but unlike the market there was little casual loitering around the chamber: groups of campaigners hurried to and fro between any of the dozens of passageways that egressed into the rest of the building. Almost all of them bore their full kits, clanking with armor and carried weapons. Nearest to the two was a small party of adventurers, bickering under their breaths over an unfurled map held by an obvious wizard, his floppy, wide-brimmed hat frequently falling in front of his eyes as he whisper-argued with his companions.

Before crossing into the open chamber, Vael turned to her. "Unlike the streets, I will ask that you do follow me here. The Guild Halls tend to follow their own curious logics, and it is better for all if you let me lead the way."

"Fine," said Delyssa, still trying to dispel her irritation from the merchant. Vael frowned but said nothing. He led her across the rotunda, cutting a tangent through the vast, circular room. There was something bristling in the air -- not just the detectable sense of magic coming from the bright, smokeless torches that illuminated the chamber with a sunlight glow. The was a palpable feel of urgency, and Delyssa finally registered that she was now standing in the building where seasoned campaigners -- warriors, rogues, magicians and worse -- plotted their perilous quests. Heroism and its accompanying violence was born here.

Vael brought her through a wide doorway and down a series of corridors. At one point, the two had to stop and step to the side, pressed against the wall as a giant tortoise lumbered past, a miniature castle built atop the moss growing on its shell. Delyssa stared at the scores of tiny people the size of fingernails that crowded the balconies of the keep, waving at her.

Vael squinted at the departing tortoise. "I think that is just an illusion or glamor cast upon it."

"You think?" Delyssa asked.

Vael could only shrug. "Like I said, we get all sorts here. I try not to ask too many questions within these walls."

"I already feel like I'm in a whole other world than my temple," Delyssa said as they began to walk again.

"The Campaigner's Guild is certainly as close as most people get to being so. There are strange magics at work in these halls, relics possessing ancient curses, idols to forgotten gods, and many other arcana. Which is why it is best not to idly wander."

Delyssa followed him down two more turning corridors. They had only been walking for a few minutes, but she had no idea where they were within the building.

"Is there anything I should know about the other companions?" she asked as they strode deeper into the Guild Hall.

Vael paused and thought for a moment. "Our party is myself and two other women. We have not been companions for long -- a few adventures, less than a full campaign -- but they are skilled and dependable. It is customary to let each member of the party introduce themselves how they wish: their expertise, their ancestry, a little of who they were before this life is they so choose. Though I will say that one of the women is not a human. I do not know the Gra'tani word for her people -- where I came from we called them 'gnomes' -- but she herself uses 'tunling,' so that is what I would insist upon."

"I'm afraid that I'm not familiar with that people," Delyssa said.

"That does not surprise me," said Vael. "They are extremely rare this far south. Above ground, at least. The sun is as alien to them as the fires of the world below are to us." They came to a wide door of dark wood built into the white stone of the wall.

"We're here," said Vael. "Get ready to meet the team." He pushed the door open and entered, with Delyssa following.

The room inside had a low ceiling and bare walls of gray brick. It was functioning as both a small armory and living quarters: each of the three facing walls held two bunk beds inset into alcoves, six in total. Between the alcoves were racks that held a variety of wicked-looking but nicked weapons of functional steel. Only two of the beds showed any sign of habitation: One was unmade and unkempt towards the headboard, the foot of the bed untouched. It was covered in loose sheafs of paper and opened scrolls. A dagger was laying bare on the pillow.

The other bed was currently occupied by a huge, muscular woman who seemed larger than the bed itself. She was wrapped about the covers and herself, a tangle of limbs and cloth. One leg hung off the side of the bed, showing fair skin tanned above the ankle. The top of the figure was exposed, and Delyssa saw that the woman was asleep wearing a tight leather jerkin that clung to her chest. Her face was rugged, a thin scar that started beneath her strong nose and ran vertically over her lip on the right side of her face. Her brown, wavy hair was about half of Delyssa's length, and she guessed that it would fall to just below the woman's shoulders if it wasn't splayed out around her head. She was snoring like a washboard.

"So is this our new healer?" a thin, almost nasally voice spoke from Delyssa's left. Startled, she turned and saw perched on a stool in the dark corner of the room the tunling. She had been somehow easy to miss. Her thick, straw-like hair was a pale yellow, almost white and nearly a sphere around her face, and her skin was albino, with huge violet eyes that stared owlishly back at her. While her visual appearance was highly noticeable even in the dim, magical torchlight of the room, it was offset by her size. Even standing atop the stool, the tunling would not have reached Delyssa's shoulders. Standing on level ground, she would reach to just above her hips. Unlike her other companion, she was fully dressed and equipped, garbed in black buckled leather, (comparatively) high boots and a hood. Her build was that of an adult woman, just shrunken down to miniature size, though Delyssa intuited that that would likely be an impolite description.

"Cenhera, this is Delyssa. Delyssa, this is Cenhera. I thought you were going to make sure that she was awake and ready?" Vael said to the tunling, crossing the room over to the sleeping woman.

"I couldn't rouse her," said Cenhera. Her accent was strange, not like any other traveler Delyssa had ever met. She over-emphasized her c's and t's with subvocal clicks that gave her speech a strange, staccato cadence. She cast an eye over Delyssa. "You're to be the healer then, eh? Is that all you're roving out in?"

Delyssa hefted her laden pack uncomfortably. "I'm prepared for the road, if that's what you're asking. Other than that, I have wards to defend myself, but I'm not a fighter."

Cenhera jumped down from the stool, landing silently on her toes, and strode over to her bed where she began to collect the scrolls and parchment from her bed. "When we requested a cleric I thought that the Guild would send us one of those big burly types with a mace and shield and all that," she said to Vael in a voice that was pointedly loud enough for Delyssa to hear.

"Yes, well, most of those are busy aiding the soldiers near Dertath," Vael said absently. He was shaking the woman's shoulder, trying to rouse her to little effect, just a small hiccup in her snores. He turned back to Cenhera. "Delyssa, there should be a bucket of water in the corner. Might you bring it to me?"

She looked around until she found it and carried it over to the paladin. Cenhera finished rolling up the paper and stuffed it into a scroll case at her hip, followed by sheathing the knife from her bed in a black scabbard fixed to the back of her belt. There was a splash as Vael threw the bucket over the warrior, who bolted upright with a shout, suddenly baring a long dagger that appeared out of nowhere.

Vael stepped back out of reach. "There. You are no awake and bathed all at once. Would you like to meet our new companion? He turned aside and gestured towards Delyssa and introduced her. "This is our fighter, Brynwa."

Brynwa leaned forward and blinked at Delyssa. "You're the healer?" she said in a gruff voice.

Delyssa noted how Brynwa's biceps were as thick around as her thighs and swallowed. "That's right."

The fighter stood, the sheets falling from her waist, revealing that she was entirely bottomless. Cenhera clicked her teeth and rolled her eyes while Vael blushed and turned to face towards the wall. Brynwa was well groomed, and Delyssa could see the top of her slit between her legs, though her eyes were more drawn towards clearly developed muscles along the insides of her thighs.

Brynwa stood and fished a pair of tousled trousers from the bunk above her, giving Delyssa a full view of her bottom.

"You worship that sex goddess, right?" Brynwa said as she pulled on the leather pants.

"Well, Shevlana is the patron of many spheres," Delyssa said. "Healing, beauty, love and yes, lust and pleasure."

"Yeah," said Brynwa. "That's what I meant. Sex and love goddess. Gods, that sounds nice. What'd you do to get sent off with us? Fuck a demon?"

Now that the fighter was dressed, Vael interrupted. "She is here because the Temple of Shevlana has the same arrangement with the Guild as the temples. I am sure that Delyssa does not wish for your introduction to be insults upon her goddess."

"It's fine," she said quickly. "Honestly. There are worse characterizations of our religion than that." Delyssa knew to appreciate the overly-interested newcomers to the cult of Shevlana more than the judgmental.

"Well, I don't deal much with the gods," said Brynwa, "But if half of what I heard is true, yours is the one to join."

"Oh? What have you heard?"

Brynwa winked. "I'll tell you later."

Vael crossed his arms. "Are you done? We are already losing daylight. I am sorry to rush you along, Delyssa, but I was hoping to depart yesterday, but you were the soonest healer available."

"Have you told her what the quest is?" said Cenhera.

"I thought to fill her in on the road, though I suppose a summary would not be amiss while we wait for Brynwa to ready. The gist of our mission is this: there's a frontier town about a hundred leagues north of here, called Ankreot. A few days ago, the Guild received a sending from one of its scouts in the area, claiming that she heard from the hillfolk that some monster has been terrorizing the local hamlets, and has made as its lair a previously unexplored ruin built underground."

"It's a classic beast hunt and loot-and-scoot combo," said Brynwa.

"More like a boss bait-and-switch, is my bet," Cenhera chirped.

"I don't know what that means," said Delyssa.

Vael glared at his companions. "Basically, it means that we are being asked to deal with this monster and also search the ruins for any other threats now that it has been opened."

"Only we don't know what kind of beast it is, or if it's even the scariest thing there," Brynwa said as she finished dressing, now working on strapping a stiff leather cuirass to her torso.

"So, our plan is to ride on up to Ankreot, meet the scout, and head on over to the ruin to deal with whatever's there, loot anything valuable, and then we'll escort you back here," said Vael.

"Ride? I've never ridden a horse before," said Delyssa.

The three adventurers looked between themselves for a moment.

"You can ride with me," said Brynwa. "Cenhera here just rides a pony, and Vael's horse is a real bastard to anyone but him."

"I do object to that description of Dereac," said Vael, "but I believe that your suggestion makes the most sense."

Brynwa crossed the room in three huge strides and lifted a startled Delyssa up by her armpits, easily bringing her chest-to-face with warrior, pack and all. Before she could react, Brynwa set her back down on her feet.

"Just checking to see if you're light enough for my horse. You'll be fine," she said.

"That's a sign that Bryn likes you," said Cenhera.

The warrior wagged a finger at the tunling. "How many times, Cen? Brynwa. It's a feminine suffix, ask any scholar." Brynwa turned towards Delyssa. "She's trying to give you bad habits. Don't listen to anything she says. She seems serious, but she's both a tunling and a mage, and you know what they say about those, right?"

"Not this again," Cenhera groaned.

"I'm going to go ready the horses. Meet me in the stable," said Vael, backing out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"Everyone knows that tunlings fuck like rabbits in those burrows of theirs," Brynwa recited. "And mages are all perverts. That's a fact. So add them together and you get some kind of legendary pervert."

Brynwa still had one arm around Delyssa's shoulder, and the acolyte was pressed against the warrior's chest. "Is that so?" she managed.

"Of course! It's in a wizard's blood."

"That's sorcerers," said Cenhera.

"No! Well, yes -- but that's not what I mean. All wizards think of their magic in terms of schools, right? And each school is a different type of perversion. You think any young conjurer doesn't start out by thinking 'well, I won't start by summoning anything too damned, let's start with, I don't know, a succubus?' and suddenly they're standing disrobed in a pentacle getting sucked off by an infernal slut, those infernal sluts. Or an illusionist doesn't practice by making exact images of their classmates do naked dances in the bedchamber? Or how about enchanters -- it starts off mesmerizing the guards to let them through the castle gate, but the wizard thinks that he's running a bit early, so he settles in and watches those ensorcelled guards fuck each other while he strokes himself under his robe!"

"Absolutely none of that is true," said Cenhera. Delyssa saw that the tunling's pale face had turned a bright shade of pink.

"Er, what about evokers?" She said, extricating herself from the fighter's grasp. "They just cast fireballs and lightning bolts and such."

"They're the most perverted of the bunch! Their spells aren't even sexy!"

Delyssa opened her mouth to ask about necromancers, then wisely shut it. "It's clear that you've thought a lot about this."

Brynwa laughed. "I've seen it all firsthand, lass. Specifically, I've seen the illusions that Cen makes when she gets drunk. You'd think that being that smashed would make them glamors come out all wobbly, but no. Turns out that Cenhera has quite the vivid and detailed imagination, right, Cen?"

Cenhera was fully beet-red at this point. "Vael was right. We should go. Now. I can't believe that the lust-goddess-cleric is not the most sex-obsessed member of this party. You two are going to get along great."

Brynwa bellowed another laugh.

#

Cenhera and Brynwa led Delyssa to the stables, a huge and potently-odored fixture attached to the back of the Campaigner's Guild. There were rows of stalls containing all breed of mount, from the typical horses to huge lizards to giant, two-legged birds. She was walked past strange beasts too quickly to recognize some of them, just able to glimpse combinations of fur, scales and feathers attached to limbs through the thin slats of the stable doors. Throughout the building was a cacophony of whinnies, bleats, brays, and roars, (among other sounds) that made speech difficult, and so Delyssa followed her companions in deafened silence.

The mounts eventually handed to the group, saddled and bridled by a bored stable hand, were thoroughly mundane in comparison. Cenhera led a brown pony, laden with packs of feed and rations, whereas Brynwa took a huge black mare. Delyssa knew little about animals, but enough to know that this was an import by the Guild, not of the smaller Gra'tani breeds.

They led the animals out of the stables to a cobblestone circle near the city walls. Vael was waiting for them, already astride his horse, a tall stallion only a little shorter than Brynwa's warhorse. The warrior expertly tied Delyssa's gear to the horse and climbed into the saddle before extending a hand to her. The acolyte was easily lifted onto the beast's back, in front of Brynwa on the saddle. There was only a little room, and so they sat flush with one another, the rough, sun-heated leather of her cuirass pressed against Delyssa's back. Brynwa rode with one hand clasped on Delyssa's thigh, the other holding the reins around her.

"We leave through the Questing Gate and ride at a trot for four leagues, then slow to a walk until the first rest," Vael announced. "We hope to cover twelve leagues before nightfall. The roads north are well-traveled and maintained for the first fifty leagues, so the journey should be easy." Delyssa thought that Vael was saying this mainly for her benefit, but the two other companions were nodding along.

Vael wheeled his horse around, facing the avenue that led away from the Guild Hall. "No last-minute items that we have forgotten? Cenhera, you have your harpsichord?" Both women laughed. An inside joke.

"Right. Let us depart." Vael urged his horse forward, and the rest followed.

Delyssa knew of the Questing Gate -- a small, inconspicuous door to the city managed by the Guild, meant to deflect rowdy campaigners high off the adventure, burdened with magical relics, sacks of loot and strange creatures away from the traffic of the main gate.

"Distract me," she said over her shoulder to Brynwa.

"What?"

"I've never ridden a horse before. I've never left Gra'tan before," she explained. "Can you tell me something to distract me from... all this. What can you tell me about this party?"

"Sure," said Brynwa. They were close enough together that the warrior was speaking right over Delyssa's head. "This is our third -- no, fourth -- adventure together. Never anything grand. Ruin raids, monster hunts. The typical fare. Before you, we've had two healers. The Guild doesn't like it if you go on quest without a healer, either one who's certified by them or vouched for by a recognized temple."

"I'm the latter," said Delyssa.

"Right. Mostly, healers are clerics. There are some arcanists who learn that kind of magic, and some alchemists who make that their specialty, but mostly clerics. Our first cleric was from this rural goddess, farming and marriage and hearths or something."

"Muridiel," said Delyssa. "They're down the Street from us. We send each other cakes."

"Hah, that's the one. She was nice enough, but not quite cut out for the life, it turns out. Our next healer was this tough, red-haired bastard from some Sun God."