Blood Moon Ch. 03

"I see you've seduced my hired help. Was it with coin or your body?"

"I have some questions to ask of you, Kaerys," she said, ignoring him.

The nerve of this girl!

"Who else was involved in the plot against me and Halron?" she resumed, striding up to him until she was only a few yards away. His, or rather, her bodyguards stopped farther back behind her.

"I assume you've taken care of Vyan and Gelan then, girl?"

She nodded. "Answer my questions and I will spare you from sharing their fate."

"Pfagh!" Kaerys spat at her and missed. "It was a mistake to kill Halron instead of you—he wouldn't have had the guts to confront me." He reached into his baggy robe and pulled out a crystal, glowing violet. Crushing it between his fingers, the air before him immediately began to vibrate and a shadowy, amorphous form popped into being in what felt like a wholly unnatural manner.

Wordlessly, and with a flare of his burning eyes, he directed the summoned voidwalker at Seraphita and her traitorous band of mercenaries. It turned, sluggishly, and then lurched towards them, its form shifting with every shuffle forward. It was but a minor summon, but it would keep them occupied while he dealt with the priestess; she would not be able to deal with it and himself—at least not for long. Furrowing his brow, Kaerys raised his staff into the air. A storm of purple-black energy seemed to draw towards its apex, concentrating into a ball of dark matter that thrummed like thunder. The sparse shrubs around him browned, the life sucked out of them to be used in his wicked convocation. Seraphita caught his eye and he moved to put an end to her life, aiming the unholy spell at her with a tilt of his staff.

Something immensely strong took hold of him as he did so, forcing his arm upwards as a blow struck against his back and near his neck. Crying out, and his concentration interrupted, the spell backfired, changing course towards what he was focused upon—whatever it was assaulting him. The energy flowed into his staff as it turned towards his attacker, who was, unfortunately for Kaerys, directly behind him. Mind reeling from the physical blow that was struck against him, he hastily terminated the spell. He had done it haphazardly, however, and without proper direction it exploded rather than dissipated, splintering his staff into countless little pieces.

Kaerys—and whatever it was behind him—flew backwards into the hot desert sand. He landed on his back, unmoving and unconscious by means of his own spell.

***

"Stop fidgeting," Seraphita ordered. The priestess stood over Ren, arms outstretched and hands hovering over his prone body. A gentle light enveloped him, healing the wounds he had sustained from Kaerys' reckless spell.

"It burns!" he complained.

"That's probably just your muscle fibers regenerating within the span of a few seconds," she reassured. "Now be a good boy and stop moving lest I screw up your musculature."

The worgen grumbled but did as he was told. If not for her quick shielding both he and Kaerys would probably be dead or at the very least seriously injured. Even shielded, the magister had absorbed the brunt of the spell and had required extensive healing. Sera had not healed him fully, just enough to save his life, and he was still unconscious . So, huddled in one of the decrepit wooden buildings forming the complex, her, Ren, Simon and the other three men waited for Kaerys to regain consciousness.

After an hour passed, Murg, his burn healed, had the idea to douse the elf in water. Nodding her consent, the orc did just that, rudely awakening his former employer who coughed and struggled to sit up. His face twisted into a scowl upon inspection of his caretakers.

"One whore and five whoresons. What dreadful company," he sneered.

"You are only alive because of her," Ren growled, standing beside Seraphita and resting a hand fondly atop her shoulder. "Give me the word, Sera, and I will flay the skin from his scrawny body."

"Calm yourself," she told him, patting his furry hand then directing her words once again to Kaerys. "Earlier, I told you that I had some questions. Answer them and there will be no skin flaying."

"Fine," he huffed, struggling to even sit up straight.

Finally, answers! Seraphita thought. "Who was involved in this conspiracy against me and Halron?"

For a moment Kaerys just glared, but then he spoke: "There were three others," he coughed,"...Tallaris Goldbinder, Satheas Dawnsinger, and Vya'thaes Highfury." She knew each of these names, and Kaerys seemed to take particular pleasure in her indignation as he mentioned them; then, his face twisted into an ugly scowl. "Vya'thaes came to me with the idea... he had already talked it out with the others but he needed me for the practical side of things—and for me to take the fall if need be." His words were dripping with hatred as he spoke this last part.

"Practical side of things?" she asked.

"I hired the assassin. I told him to plant the evidence. I chose for Halron to die instead of you—stupid as that was. I planned it all." He seemed to take pride in this acknowledgement of misdeeds—like an exciting secret that he finally got to tell.

"And now you're here, hiding from Vya'thaes' assassins I presume," she said smugly. It was more of a statement than a question, but Kaerys nodded gravely. "Who was this assassin that you hired?"

"Some human," he grunted, and then added: "Male."

"You don't know his name?"

"No," His eyes shifted to the three bodyguards he had hired, eyeing them appraisingly.

"What did he look like?" she pressed.

Kaerys' gaze slowly focused on her and then he opened his mouth as if to speak.

Seraphita felt a malevolent force grip and tug at her soul, stealing at her life force and drawing it towards the magister's open mouth. For a moment it seemed as if Kaerys' own gnarled hand was wrapped around her heart and a frigid cold shrouded her goosebumped body. Gasping, she threw up her shield and glanced at Kaerys, then at Ren and the others who were experiencing similar treatment. Extending her shield to Ren, she gathered an unfocused bundle of light within her hand and directed it hastily towards their attacker.

Kaerys hissed but didn't let up; his spell was still draining the three mercenaries who were hunched over and gasping, skin sickly, bodies shriveled and hair streaked grey. She blasted him again, filling the room with a flash of blinding light. He yelled something inhuman and ceased his life-thieving spell, instead pressing a now free hand against the wall of the building. It blew outwards and he hopped through the charred opening, followed quickly behind by Ren and Seraphita. Sickly green bolts of fire splashed against the side of the building, and another was swatted aside by one of Ren's bulky arms like a pesky fly.

"Shield me!" he yelled, and then charged at the juiced up magister. Kaerys was not the type Ren would ever want to confront head on. Normally, he would have a plan in place to assassinate the elf without him even seeing him—sadly, one didn't always get the benefit of drawing out a plan.

"Done!" Seraphita shouted, forming a shield around Ren. Divided equally, their shields would be at half strength; instead, she took a risk: she did not shield herself. If Kaerys directed an attack at her, she would just need to be quick enough to shield herself before it hit.

His padded feet thumping against the dirt, Ren covered the distance between him and the warlock in little more than an instant. He raised his sword and slashed at the other man's head, nearly decapitating him if not for a demonic claw that swatted his sword off course. Up close as he was, Ren got a better look at Kaerys' body: it was twisted—deformed in some horrifying gambit for power. His hands were misshapen, adorned with dark scales and jagged claws longer than even Ren's. Curled horns rose from his temples, and his face, ugly before, was now monstrous.

The transformed magister's other terrible hand rose up, swiping at empty air as Ren dodged out of the way. Before he could properly catch his footing, a swirling bolt of shadow came hurling towards him. It struck his shield with an angry sizzle, bending it inwards but not breaking through. Growling, Ren charged again, swinging his sword in a feint and then slamming his boot into the magister's stomach when he moved to block it as he had before. Kaerys staggered backwards and snarled but did not fall over as Ren had hoped he would. Instead, the crazed elf grabbed his sword with one hand and raked at his shield with the other, his dagger-like claws alight with felfire.

Quickly, Ren grabbed hold of the hand clawing at him and simultaneously dropped his sword, bending down to reach for his boot knife instead. Kaerys flung the sword away and began channeling another shadowbolt. Before he could release it, however, Ren lunged at him, stabbing him in the eye. Kaerys howled and his body exploded in a wall of flame, enveloping him but not harming him. Ren jumped backwards as the warlock backed away from him, clawing at the knife and throwing it to the ground, leaving his left eye a disgusting mass of bloodied gore.

Seraphita ran up behind Ren and touched his arm. "I'm not sure how much longer I can sustain your shield." She lacked sleep, food, water, and had been healing and shielding all day. Frankly, she was exhausted.

"Just do the best that you can," he replied, exchanging a smile and a nod with her.

Kaerys emerged from his cloak of fire, the flames gradually subsiding to leaping, crackling tongues of fire that licked at the air around the magister. His body shook with rage, black blood streaming down his deformed face. "Katra zil shukil!" he screamed, voice booming.

Sparing no time for a translation, Ren charged the warlock one more—and hopefully final—time. Swirling bolts of felfire and shadow reflected off of him as Kaerys raged, the shield that Sera cast on him sizzling and sparking, barely holding on and glowing a threatening red. It bulged inwards and finally burst, allowing a searing ball of fire to catch him in the chest. He staggered down to his knees, clutching his chest while Kaerys barked an otherworldly laugh, his hands raised as he sought to channel the spell that would end Ren's life.

Kaerys' laughter turned into a cry of pain as two solid tendrils of light twisted around his arms, searing his skin and pulling them up into the air above his horned head.

"Ren!" Seraphita yelled, but he was already back on his feet. Claws bared, he swung at Kaerys' throat, ripping it out with a fountainous spray of blood. For a moment the warlock sputtered, his eyes not seeming to comprehend his defeat, and then he was gone, his body limp in the grasp of Sera's bindings. They dissipated and he dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Seraphita's arms were upon Ren then, spinning him around so that he was facing her.

"Are you alright?" she asked, examining the area where he had been struck. His leather armor was burned through, exposing the riveted plates beneath. "I can heal you."

"I'm fine," he rumbled and then pointed back towards the blown out building. "Save your energy for them." Simon and the three mercenaries were peering back at them through the hole in the wall, alive but looking like ancient, fossilized versions of themselves.

Too tired to argue, Seraphita nodded and made her way back inside, calling upon the Light—and her reserves—to see what she could do about the sickly looking men.

***

After healing each of the men so that they would be capable of traveling, and ensuring that there would be no permanent damage, Seraphita ate a light meal and then collapsed into the first bed she could find, watched over by Ren who—to her great annoyance—insisted that she had been snoring. Regardless, it was a much needed rest; she felt as if she could take on Kaerys all over again should he arise from his eternal slumber, unlikely as that was considering they had destroyed his soulstone. So, having found the answers she sought, they burned the bodies upon the fire pit, gathered their belongings—and those of Kaerys for he would surely not need them anymore—as well as supplies and then left upon the backs of their dromedaries, four riderless steeds in tow.

As was so often the case, the return trip through the desert seemed to pass by faster than the initial journey, and after one night's rest, they arrived back in Gadgetzan late in the morning. Simon and the others still looked like they had aged several decades and so, after they had returned their mounts to the stablemaster, they accompanied her to Claudia's modest little hospital. Stepping inside, they found the building empty of the honey-haired physician, but her son, whom Sera estimated as being around eight years old, greeted them with a blank stare.

"Mother!" he finally called, and not long after Claudia emerged from a previously unnoticed backroom, her hand swiping aside a cloth tapestry separating the two areas.

"Oh my, back so soon, priestess Seraphita?"

"I missed your teasing," she smiled, and then more seriously: "Can you help these men?"

Claudia looked past her at the men seated near the entrance and they stood up, withered heads inclining respectfully. She tapped a finger against her chin. "Warlock troubles, hm?" They nodded dejectedly, avoiding her gaze. "Sure, I can take care of them. Seems like they mostly just need some rest, though."

"I'll cover the cost." Sera felt vaguely responsible for what happened so she figured that it was the least she could do.

"Okay." Claudia looked over the men once more, her gaze curious. "So... which one of you is the worgen?"

"Claudia!" Sera squeaked, but the priestess ignored her and turned to Ren who had his hand raised. She shuffled over and whispered something in his ear that caused the both of them to giggle like children. "What are you telling him?"

"Nothing, dear," the human woman said, smiling and walking over to her son who eyed the scene with a puzzled fascination, understanding that something was going on but not quite sure what it was. "Come on then," she barked with a clap of the hands, "you're all dirty and need a bath before you stink up the place. Who's first... the orc? The rest of you can fetch water from out back." Claudia herded them out of sight and then focused her attention back to Sera and Ren.

"You have a place to stay I presume?"

They nodded.

"Right then, go on and get yourselves cleaned up so you can properly enjoy each other's company—doctor's orders." Ignoring Seraphita's protestations, Claudia shooed them out of the building and then waved goodbye. "Come back in a day or two when you're ready to pay!" she called, and then shut the door behind her.

"So... your place or mine?" Ren asked.

***

Back at her apartment in The Golden Oasis, Seraphita paced anxiously about the room, her damp hair wrapped up in a plush towel while her curvy body rebelled against the cotton confines of a red-dyed bathrobe. She had bathed first and now Ren was taking his turn—as well as his time—but soon he would emerge from the washroom, wet, clean and naked. She was giddy and nervous, though she knew not why. It hadn't been long since they were last together and their little misunderstanding had been resolved, yet even still she couldn't help but feel that there was an awkwardness between them... Or maybe it was just her? Lost in thought and murmuring to herself how silly she was being, Sera opened the doors to the balcony and stepped outside, inhaling the fresh air and enjoying the warm sun on her skin. Below her, people of all races moved through the streets like a coursing river, some fast, some slow, but none of them noticing her—or the large worgen sneaking up behind her.

She gasped as Ren's all-encompassing arms took a firm hold on her, pulling her back against his muscular girth. He was naked, that much was obvious, and his semi-rigid tool poked against her enticingly. Flustered, she wiggled around in his arms to face him.

"What are you doing?"

"All that time together back on the ship and you still have to ask?"

She swallowed. "I'm still mad at you, you know."

"I said I was sorry," he said, voice low and husky. "How can I make it up to you?"

Hunched over, his face was inches from hers, his steely blue eyes captivating and making her catch her breath. Not trusting her mouth to properly form words, she licked her lips and turned her head away from him coquettishly, displaying her cheek and her slender neck in a submissive gesture that made the worgen's nostrils flare with desire. Responding to her wordless invitation, he licked her cheek affectionately and then ducked his head into her neck, breath hot against her tender skin.

Then his tongue reached out, caressing her skin and filling her stomach with a frenzy of butterflies. Seraphita whimpered and reached for him with her hands, one upon his head and the other upon his arm. They stroked at his still-damp coat, her fingers curling and grasping at his beautiful brown fur. Another lick and then a sharp, prickly sensation: Ren teased her with his teeth, each as sharp as a knife yet gentle and measured enough not to draw even a droplet of blood. Her heart pounded—he could hear it, she knew, even smell her arousal—and she felt overwhelmed, the butterflies in her stomach wild with excitement.

Ren glided downwards, peeling apart her bathrobe and catching her milky white mountains, each full and plump and topped with sensitive pink nubs that he teased wonderfully. She shivered, arching her back and pushing her large breasts against him as he licked and lifted them with his strong, pleasing tongue, marking them with his hot saliva. He indulged himself with an almost childlike curiosity, claiming one mound with his tongue and the other with a careful hand, licking and squeezing until his curiosity turned elsewhere. Lowering himself further, he drew his snout to her womanhood and huffed, tickling her with a tantalizing breath of hot air.

"Ren? Maybe we should go inside," Seraphita breathed, pressing together her shapely thighs in a poor effort to cover herself.

"Why, don't want people to see you?" Ren growled, nearly melting her resistance with his voice alone. "I know you don't mind if people hear you." His mouth opened and he brought his tongue to her quim, sliding it across and parting her folds with a tease of her little clit.

"Oh, you vulgar man," she whined, thumbing at one of his furry brown ears. "Please..."

He hesitated mid-lick. "Alright, Sera."

Bundling her up in his arms, he retreated from the balcony and then lowered her onto the bed. It was a large bed, fit for royalty and more than large enough for an elf and a worgen to make love upon. Stripping out of her bathrobe, she tossed it aside and then laid back against a soft pillow, legs spread and her lips glistening with arousal. Ren was on her immediately, head between her thighs and his tongue exploring her nethers. He drank of her juices, lapping at her pussy like a dog drinks water, making Seraphita croon and squirm, twisting at the lily-white sheets with one hand while the other aided her in anxiously chewing at a lock of blue hair.

It was wonderful, and then his tongue really entered her and it became even more wonderful, slithering deep and exploring her pink depths while a deft finger circled around her clit again and again. He worked her expertly, affectionately and with the surging heat of a desire that lent itself to her own lustful fervor. It grew not gradually but rapidly, until her thighs trembled around the head of her worgen lover and her moans could no longer be contained. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, sinful—for surely it had to be—and magnificent as it blossomed into an orgasm. This time her whole body trembled, hips bucking against Ren's handsome face as she came with a gasp that morphed into a throaty moan. Ren slowed but didn't stop until her fit was over, his brilliant blue eyes fixated on her. Catching her breath, she looked down at him and their eyes met, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering again, drifting up to her chest and making her heart swoon. Seraphita couldn't read the expression in his pale eyes, nor could she look away and she shivered when he dragged his tongue slowly over her slit and against her swollen nub.