Acolyte of the Pleasure Goddess Ch. 04

There was no intelligence behind those eyes, she was shaken to see -- just the wild look of animal instinct. A wave of hot breath rolled over her, and she fell to the ground, staring up at the thing.

"Alas it appears that terror should be the mood of the day once more how familiar is that all that beasts such as us may feel one wonders if fear is all there is certainly it comes and goes for myself as well though I find it strangely absent in moments such as these when death is nearest for all involved how curious."

Between rapid heartbeats, Delyssa had a flash -- too quick to be a fully formed imagination -- of the monster slowly lowering itself and devouring her in a single bite as the others merely watched. Paralyzed, she watched as it drew near, disturbingly feline as it leaned over her.

The tip of Brynwa's greatsword swung up and clipped its jaws, and all at once it erupted into incredible motion. The monster threw itself forward, careening down into the crevice of the trail and colliding its side with the opposite wall, too big to fit in the path with ease.

Now fully in sight, the creature was twice as tall as Brynwa, its head alone as big as the fighter's torso. Its body was like that of a giant lion, the color of sand. Huge reptilian wings were folded against its body and a long, barbed tail swept behind it, flicking back and forth, dragging along the stone.

The animals screamed and scattered, even Vael's horse Dereac too frightened to maintain in the paladin's grip. The monster tracked the fleeing beasts with singular focus, turning its whole head to follow them. As soon as Vael took a single step towards it, it snapped back and tilted its head as if in appraisal.

"Curiously garbed these creatures are this one is wrapped in metal and chain and yet is as naked as I--" Its mouth did not move as it spoke, just a voice emptying out from its throats. It looked past Vael and regarded Delyssa with its blank animal eyes. "And yet this is one is so unlike nearly naked in cloth entire yet somehow seeming armored to my cunning eyes--"

Vael charged, ducking beneath the first claw that swiped at his head. Both he and the monster moved incredibly fast, faster than Delyssa would have thought possible. As Vael moved to melee the two became a tangle of parries and claws, dodges, and feints. The next talon came right at Vael's chest. He tried to deflect with the shield strapped to his arm, but the impact threw him off to the side, where he collided with the wall and fell to the ground.

Brynwa charged in next, and Delyssa was astonished to see the fighter drive the beast back as it retreated from each of wild swings of her greatsword.

"My this one has such a temper what angers you so little morsel perhaps it is that for all your brawn your body does not yet match your spirit but alas such mysteries shall endure as you become but meat to me--"

The monster's barbed tail lashed out. Brynwa parried with the flat of her blade, knocking it aside. Just as Delyssa cried out a warning, another claw batted the warrior to the ground, pinning Brynwa beneath its weight atop her belly. Her sword clattered to one side, and her muscles strained and bulged as she tried to pry the claw off of her.

A small, dark blur raced along the ground towards the monster. Cenhera ran low, her legs making up for their length with alacrity. Her form seemed indistinct, and Delyssa had difficulty focusing on the tunling. Cenhera moved with such speed and purpose that it appeared deceptively simple to evade the slashing claws and strikes from the monstrosity. She ducked, side-stepped, and jumped whenever able, accompanying each dodge with a quick cut from one of the daggers that she held in either hand. Despite this, it appeared that the short blades did little harm to the creature. Where they broke skin, blood so dark as to be almost red oozed out. At no point did it falter in its commentary.

"A most vexing circumstance sorceries do turn my stomach a difficult allergy to be sure but not an insurmountable one what it is worse is that this fiend as far as may be discerned is but a single bite of flesh hardly enough to satiate what tragedy it must be to have bones that suffice only to be toothpicks for your devourer how shameful--"

Delyssa got to her feet. It was clear that her first taste of combat was not going well. Clutching the staff before her in a defensive position. She almost had to suppress a laugh -- the Temple of Shevlana taught staff-fighting to its initiates as a form of self-defense, but always with the understanding that it would be put to use against similarly-armed people, if at all. Not whatever this monster was. She was edging towards a towering beast with just a stick.

The beast glanced towards her and spun, swiping at her with its barbed tail. Rather than try to block with her staff, Delyssa flung herself to the ground feeling the whoosh of air as it arced by overhead. She rolled to the side, ignoring the sharp press of loose rocks against her skin, and looked up just in time to see the monster kick backwards with a hind leg. She shut her eyes as she expected the blow.

Somehow it missed, thudding in the ground beside her, spraying up dirt and gravel. She opened her eyes to see the dissipation of a faint blue light before her, the fading activation of the ward she had cast that morning.

A gauntleted hand grabbed her by the arm and threw her back out of reach of the monster. Vael stood in her place, his cape torn. He held his blade close, pulled back and parallel to the ground as he took a sure step forward. He was muttering under his breath, and as the monster turned to regard him, he raised his voice in a final crescendo, speaking a tongue unknown to Delyssa. Whatever the words were, the effect was clear: fire erupted out of the hilt of the sword, the heat rolling over her even from where she lay paces away. The fire was a deep red, the color of blood, and the blade glowed white-hot within it -- bone white.

For the first time, the monster hesitated. It unfurled its two great wings and beat them somehow -- impossibly, to Delyssa's eyes -- lifting it off the ground. Brynwa was carried up with it, its talon curled around her belt.

"Why there it is that old friend of mine the wariness and fear that instinctual companion that all life feels yet none so intimately and potently as I fear is my mate and my beget and how bittersweet is its return to me at this moment I shall depart with this trophy and leave these morsels in its company a merciful boon if ever there was one--"

Another beat of wings and the monster rose even higher. Brynwa flailed about before grabbing a knife from the back of her belt and plunging it into the claw to no effect. Cursing, the warrior yanked the blade out of the talon and instead cut away at her belt, severing the leather in one quick slash and dropping like a stone away from the monster.

It roared, the first interruption of its stream-of-consciousness monologue, the guttural noise reverberating down the hillside. Brynwa hit the ground hard and lay still. The monster tucked in its wings and swooped towards Vael, the only standing member of the party. He held his flaming sword out before him, arm outstretched and perfectly still. Just as the beast's forelimbs were about to connect, he spun to the side, slicing horizontally at the passing creature, cutting a long, searing gash along its side. It howled again, this time in pain. Its flight disrupted, it crashed into the side of the wall and staggered, smearing ichor against the rock.

It cast one look back at the paladin and then bounded further up the path, scrabbling up the sides of the walls until it had the clearance to stretch its wings. With haphazard flaps, it lifted off the ground once more, dripping blood. It rose in great bursts into the sky, wheeling about overhead once more. Delyssa caught the last of its mutterings as it retreated away from the hills, shrinking into the distance until it disappeared from sight.

"Once more my hunger grows and is denied is there any more pitiable than myself as hated as I am ravenous doomed to hunt beyond my skill my prey my betters when at last I meet a most terrible foe then I shall be slain my hunger ended am I the last of my kind certainly we avoid each other for we are truly a vile sort but misery yearns for its mate farewell children my fear shall bear me away to lonesome skies..."

And then it was gone.

Delyssa turned to the paladin. "You beat it!" she said, as surprised as she was congratulatory. Her heart was still racing.

Vael turned around to face her, his expression strained. Three barbs from the beast's tail were embedded in his chest, leaking blood down his tunic. His sword slipped from his hands and clattered to the ground, its flame doused. He began to topple backwards. Delyssa scrambled forwards in time to catch his head before it struck the earth. His breathing was a gurgling rasp, and he sputtered blood out of the corner of his mouth.

Frantically, Delyssa looked around. Brynwa was writhing on the ground but seemed to be outwardly unhurt. Cenhera was tending to the fighter, speaking too low for Delyssa to hear.

She bundled up Vael's cape into a pillow and set his head on before moving down to inspect the barbs. She touched one tentatively, resulting in a groan from the paladin.

"I'm going to have to pull these out to heal your wounds," she said. Vael managed to focus on her and nod, his jaw clenched.

Delyssa straddled him, trying to find the angle to pull out the vertical barbs impaling him. She grasped the first one, just under his right collarbone. Two quick breaths to ready herself and then -- she pulled, along with a spray of hot blood. Vael cried out through a clamped mouth. She tossed the barb away and did the next one, two breaths and a pull. The top and side of Vael's tunic was now more red than white, the drying blood darkening it to brown, the coppery stench filling the air. The third barb was lodged at an angle, caught between two ribs. Two breaths, pull: the barb stuck, and Delyssa's hands, slick with the paladin's blood, could not find a grip. She cursed -- a foreign word she picked up from Brynwa and only could guess at its meaning -- and fumbled for her bag with one hand while the other staunched the wound. She hauled the bag to her side and held its flap open with her teeth as she drew out a bundle of bandages from the main pouch. She wrapped a coarse strip of bandage around the barb and pulled again. This time, Vael's entire chest lifted along with the barb, and he let out a half-groan, half-sob.

She wrapped her hands about the barb once more -- the healing spells she knew required such obstructions to be cleared before they would take -- and jumped when Vael's own gauntleted hand clasped about her own. He was on the edge of unconsciousness, but he met her eyes and nodded. Two sharp breaths and they both pulled. The barb snapped out with a sickening crunch, tearing off bits of chainmail along with it.

Delyssa laid her hands atop the paladin's chest and closed her eyes. The incantations were hardly used in her day-to-day duties at the Temple of Shevlana, but like all acolytes who did their rounds in the healing ward, they were burned into her memory. She intoned in the same ancient tongue as the ward Mother Corporeal had taught her.

Divine magic was something ineffable. Even those who practice both arcane sorceries and the kind bestowed from faith had difficulty describing the difference. To Delyssa, uttering that prayer felt like opening her entire self to somewhere else, and something else poured in and out of her. Some kind of energy, but energy was not the right word. It was not a force that she harnessed and then directed. It entered her soul and then coursed through the rest of her body, like a new, hotter kind of blood that filled every vein, and when she released it, she felt suddenly cold, the stark absence of that divine warmth. The magic needed intentionality, of course: that is what the words were for. But more than that ancient incantation, she did not want Vael to die. She finished her prayer, feeling lighter than before. It was difficult to tell in the sunlight, but her hands were glowing, a golden shimmer most reflected in the liquid blood that was beginning to congeal about Vael's wounds.

The echo of the last word of her prayer faded among the rocks, and Vael's wounds began to heal. The leaking fluids stopped, the ruptured flesh and bone growing towards one another. It was like watching the growth of trees sped up, an uncannily inorganic movement of organic matter. Bones reformed like growing branches, muscles and skin knitted together. All three of Vael's wounds closed, his chest bloody but unbroken.

He gasped, a deep, clean breath and lifted his head up, eyes wild and panting. She still had her hands laid atop his chest, and he held them with his own. She could feel his heart racing beneath her fingers, and through them he could feel hers racing as well. They shared breaths as the adrenaline began to wear away.

"My thanks," Vael said, his voice still ragged.

"That's what I'm here for," Delyssa replied. They sat there until their heartbeats slowed from panicked to merely fast. Eventually, Vael broke his gaze away and glanced about.

"Er, perhaps Brynwa needs your attention," he said. Delyssa looked up. Cenhera was still crouched by the fighter. She looked down and realized that she was still straddling the paladin, her skirt pushed up high around her thighs. She carefully maneuvered off of him and straightened her garments.

"Will you be alright for now?" she asked, and Vael nodded.

She ran over to the fighter and sat opposite Cenhera. "How is Brynwa?"

The tunling glanced up. Between them, Brynwa groaned and squirmed.

"Bryn fell from twice times her height and landed square on her back. I expect something is broken. Do you still have magic?"

"I do. Help me roll her over."

Cenhera leaped across Brynwa's torso and squatted next to Delyssa. They both grabbed the fighter's arm and pushed upwards.

"How is Vael?" Cenhera said through gritted teeth.

"Cured. He should be fine."

They tipped Brynwa onto her side and saw that she had landed directly on top of a triangular bit of stone that stuck up out of the ground. It punctured her leather cuirass and through the jerkin that the fighter always wore. In comparison to the spikes driven through Vael's armor, this wound was a mess. Cenhera turned away, suppressing a gag.

Delyssa recited the same prayer, felt that same magic enter her body -- diminished. The use of magic was draining, and each time she opened herself up to Shevlana's font of divinity she felt a greater strain, a greater absence in its wake.

When the wound had closed, they rolled Brynwa onto her back on a more level part of the ground.

"Why do you call Brynwa 'Bryn'?" Delyssa asked Cenhera as the unconscious fighter's breathing leveled.

Cenhera gave her a sharp look, almost pityingly. "What? I've campaigned with this lump for a while now -- longer than Vael," she said, prodding the leg of the warrior. "I think I know this idiot pretty well. Anything more than that, well... you'll just have to stick around to figure out what I mean. Don't worry about it, for now at least."

"Right." Delyssa sat back on her haunches and looked around. Two party members were wounded, though they would heal. And the animals were still scattered. She realized that she was covered in scrapes and bruises, and bits of sand and gravel clung to her.

"What was that thing?"

Cenhera spat. "A manticore. A bloody big one, too. Insane creatures, all of them. I didn't know any lived in these hills. We'll have to make a report to the Guild once we get to Ankreot."

"I hope we don't run into that again."

"I think Vael scared it off. But we should keep an eye out."

"Cenhera..." Delyssa hesitated. "This wasn't my fault, was it? If we had been moving more cautiously, and watched the skies, could we have avoided it?"

Cenhera laughed, a curiously pleasant squeak. "No, this wasn't your fault. You learned a valuable lesson of campaigning. Most of the choices we make, all that time spent bickering over how to proceed, what order to go in, how to open this door -- none of it fucking matters. It's just bullshit we do to trick ourselves into thinking we have any control over of this bullshit. Don't worry about that coin flip." The tunling stood, bringing her roughly face-to-face with the acolyte.

"There wasn't anything you could have done to stop this. Stones below I wasn't any help. But you kept your party members alive. That's what counts." She touched Delyssa's arm. "I'm going to see if I can find some of the mounts."

Cenhera padded off quietly, staying in the shadows next to the walls.

Brynwa groaned and sat up. "Ow," she said, reaching around to feel her back.

"You landed on something as tough as you," Delyssa said.

Brynwa winced and twisted, pulling the rock out of the ground and examining its bloody point with a look of disgust before throwing at away, back down the slope.

The fighter turned toward Delyssa. "So, it turns out you really are a healer. Good."

"You doubted me?"

"Not really. There's just always a moment when you party up with someone for the first time where you see what they're capable of. Though if you turned out to just be a beautiful missionary of the sex goddess, I wouldn't be complaining. But it's good to know that you can do real magic."

"Well, hopefully I won't have to again," she said.

Brynwa dusted herself off and stood, adjusting her trousers. "Did you see where my belt landed?"

"Um. I'm not sure the monster ever dropped it."

"What?"

"Last I saw it your belt it was still wrapped around its claw. I think it flew away with it."

The fighter stared at Delyssa, then stormed off along the path in the direction the manticore flew, kicking over rocks and cursing under her breath. "Shit! Fifty gold coins, pissed off into the wind! Fuck!" With each step, her belt-less pants drooped off her hips. She trudged past Vael -- the two acknowledged each other only by grimacing at their new scars.

The paladin lurched over to Delyssa, still unsteadied by his recovery. The magical healing would replenish his body, but the trauma of injury was still raw. As he neared, she could see his bronze skin beneath the holes in his armor, haloed with drying blood but unbroken.

He bent down and picked up one of the discarded manticore barbs and inspected its tip, still darkened with his own blood.

He tucked it into his belt and sat down next to Delyssa.

"Is this what campaigning is?" she asked him after a long moment's silence. "Days and days of boring travel interrupted by a minute or two of absolute terror?"

Vael shrugged -- a familiar gesture by now, and Delyssa wondered about its significance. The paladin sworn to uncertainty.

"In essence, yes," he replied. "You are yet missing some of the common but significant experiences. You still have yet to be betrayed by a patron. Find a cursed item, speak to a magic door, answer the riddle of some mad wizard. And of course, we have not yet entered the dungeon that is our target. Nothing can prepare you for that."

She shivered, despite the noon-day sun beating down upon her and the rocks she sat upon.

"Of course, you are already familiar with the adventurer's tradition of fraternization," Vael continued. His words were even, but steely. He glanced at her, then away. "That was rude of me. I am sorry. I intended it to be a jest."

She stared at him a long while. He looked exhausted, beaten down from the stoic leader he was moments before the monster had attacked.

"I should also apologize," she said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable this morning. And Brynwa is... more direct than I would have preferred."