Dragon (S)layers: ThePaladin Gambit

Isira plucked it from his back gently and held it up, then looked at him with a brow arched. "Kiss the meat? Aren't you a little old for puerile humor?"

He gave her a smug grin.

"Apparently little's changed since the last paladin crossed your path.."

"Only my fondness for them," the sphinx gave her a vague catty smile before he turned his attention on Leslie. "Now, come along!"

Leslie shared a look with her patron and, getting a dry smile in return, she followed behind her captor uneasily. That was, right up to the point where they came to another small treasure room. Her curiosity quickly turned to awe as she gazed upon lavish outfits made of silk, cotton and a hundred other fabrics she could only guess at. They gleamed with gold trim and lace filling the room with an amber glow, each outfit could have been worth a king's ransom on its own...

Then she saw the musical instruments. Hundreds of them strewn about the room haphazardly in every state of disrepair imaginable. Many of them were the kind of thing Leslie had never seen before but some of them she recognized, a flute-- though the silver accents on it seemed out of place and strange-- and a thing that she'd read about in an old adventurer's log. It was beautifully ornate and absolutely massive, meant to be worn around a person's body with a huge horn opening that sat near the musician's shoulder, a 'toobah' it'd been called in the books. Most of them were probably wind instruments from the mouthpieces that littered the ground around them. "Wow--"

He lead her in deeper, smiling all the while. "Try to contain your excitement!" The powerful sphinx strolled around her, deliberately brushing her side with his silky furred body. "Enjoy the hospitality until I decide what is to become of you--"

Leslie startled out of her fugue, "N- Hold on!" But it was too late, the door closed behind him and latched shut. She braced her hands on the door, shouting a curse that went ignored. She turned and slumped against the door, clutching her head in her hands. Gods could things have gone any more wrong?

Some paladin. Some fucking champion of faith. David had been right, she was never going to amount to anything, she couldn't handle life without him as it was, and now...And now a deity had dumped Her faith in her and she couldn't even do that right. One simple thing! Get the armor and get out!

Leslie let out a long sigh and hugged her legs to her chest, looking at the room over her knees. She should have been grateful she could see this sight, but all she wanted to know was how fast she could get away from it. She sighed.

Fat lot of good she was doing feeling sorry for herself, though. Leslie hauled herself up with the familiar aches of her body, casting a wary glance about. Strangely, the haze on her mind had lifted considerably. She actually felt human again. Maybe it was metal door or some kind of warding or something.

Leslie glanced at the door and smoothed out her dress before she started rifling through the clothes looking for a hidden exit, hoping against hope something was concealed behind them, once between the fabrics she noticed a faint pull of magic.

She carefully fished for the source amongst the clothing, getting several scratches from heavy ornaments along the way. When she finally managed to pinpoint the source of the tingle she frowned. Tossed amongst the lavish displays of wealth sat a bundle of tawny velvet as plush as any cloud could have hoped to be, the dozen yards or so worth of magic fabric showed signs of neglect and had a very faint must to it, but the magic was undeniable.

It was a heavy feeling against her new senses that alluded to what the magic might have been-- where as the onyx had been wispy and airy, this was thick, heavy and inviting. Even holding it made Leslie vaguely tired but she fingered the cloth for a few moments as she looked at the rest of the clothing.

Everything in the room was specifically human oriented with long dresses trimmed with exotic riches and tunics designed to project an air of authority and power...nobility oriented, in fact. Barring the occasional loin cloth trying to pass as dancer's attire. Leslie turned the velvet over in her hands. Given everything she knew of the sphinx, he was an arrogant one and yet none of this was for him. Why didn't he have something in here if it was just a closet?

She trailed her finger through the plush, focusing her attention on the sensation it produced until she was sure it wasn't just a fluke. When she pushed on it, the magic responded like leavened dough, parting and reforming anew and forming silky strands in her mind like the haze from the rest of the building. It was something she was quickly coming to associate with magical energy, a power that had a tangible effect and could be manipulated...

Manipulated.

Like she had been.

The seamstress eyed the bolt of fabric with new appreciation as an idea started to form.

* * * * *

"Hey!" Leslie slammed on the door some hours later. "Hey, someone!"

"That's not the magic word!" Isira said lightly. She sounded close. Leslie frowned. "Oh, come now. Sullenness does not suit you!"

"Can I come out now? You know, if I promise to behave?"

There was some soft murmuring before the sphinx's voice rumbled, "You forgot the magic word."

Isira giggled.

"Please? Maybe?" Leslie glanced at her project, dampened her lips and waited. "May I please come out? I'm not going to run..."

"Now why don't I believe you?"

"Well, let me ask you this: are you cold down here? Because I'm freezing and I know I'd prefer to be warm and stylish as opposed to one or the other." She waited a beat to let it sink in and draw his interest. "I found some fabric in here, enough that I can make you something fitting your...exceptional physique."

Silence.

"I get bored easily!" she lied, "It was better to do something with my time than--" She cut herself off when the door unlatched and started to open. Isira was leaning against the sphinx with her arm around his shoulders in the way Leslie had seen hookers dangle off prospective clients. In her other hand was a wine glass full to the brim with red wine. Her eyes were warm and inviting, even now...It wasn't hard to see how he'd been so taken with Her.

The haze from the building's magic rushed over her in the next instant, muddling her thoughts in an instant and making it hard to focus. Leslie willed the fog away but it clung to her tightly, still she held to the wall and motioned back. "Uh, come in?"

"Go on, then..." The sphinx ruffled his feathers lazily, giving Leslie a faint smile. "Impress me, artist, for time slows little while the pedals of once vibrant youth grey and wilt during our processes."

"That's rather pretentious." Isira chided lightly as Leslie lead them in to the mock up she had made of the sphinx's body. Draped over it was a loose swath of velvet with pattern markings depicting where his wings would fit-- ornamentation she'd stolen from some gowns gave the chest area its own golden aegis, while a strip down the back accented the wing holes. All of it was held together by an easy to remove sash from a wine colored military uniform.

The two immortals looked at the rough 'sketch' of an outfit and then shared a look. When the sphinx's gaze turned to her, Leslie tensed. His proud, eternally youthful features contorted slightly before he spoke in a soft voice she wouldn't have expected. "Can we do something about the 'belt'?"

"Ah, sure. There are other clothes I can take things from..."

"Silver would suit me better," he tapped a claw on the aegis. "And contrast better."

"It would." She agreed. "But I didn't have any here..."

The feline creature gazed at her a moment and, seeming having made up his mind he brushed past her, leaving the door open as he disappeared into a side room. The two women waited for a moment in silence before Isira gave her a warm smile.

Leslie frowned. "You can leave at any time, can't you?"

"And miss this? Good conversation is increasingly hard to find, as are good drinks." She smiled as She took a pull from her wine glass. "Would you like some?"

"No, but if it's not too much to ask, maybe wiggle your nose and we appear outside? Is that too much to ask for?"

"Noooo, I don't think so." The pleasure goddess purred, eying the outfit thoughtfully. She stole another sip and went about moving some of the decorations around. "He'll like this, I think! You have a great eye for shapes--"

"Don't you mean you do? I mean, these are yours after all, right?" She motioned to her eyes.

Isira looked at her. "Don't. You would look beautiful with your lips like that in any other situation, but you're terrible at pouting! You take it entirely too seriously! Relax!" She threw an arm around Leslie's shoulder, leaning against her. "How long will it take to finish?"

"Relax?! Gods, I-- I mean." She sighed. How did one argue with a god? Their patron deity, especially. Leslie wiped her face, cupping her mouth and eying the outfit. "Maybe a few days? Not like I can do much else around here..."

"Perfect."

Just as she was about to ask what Isira meant, the sphinx strode in with a leather bundle tucked against his wing. Leslie took it and unfurled it. "Holy shit--" she gawked at the contents. "You could buy a country with all this silver..."

"All this conjunction over metals! It gets so tedious, but who am I to change the minds of mortals, woe! Woe be unto higher minds constrained by such basic motivators." He gave Leslie a cheeky smirk. "Will that do?"

"Uh-- Uh, yes?" She licked her lips. "I mean, of course, I'll get started at once-- but I'll need a needle and some thread--"

"I'll get it for you, worry not, my precious dove." He nudged her with his wing. "Would you like some food, too?"

"I-- Yes?"

"Good. What's the magic word?" He waggled his brow at her.

Isira groaned theatrically. "Come now, really?"

"I-- I don't know?"

"You'd better find out, then!" He started to turn, brushing against her thigh with his tail. "Its been around for eternity and is ever with queens, but doesn't stick around for kings. You can find it with the joker, but not the knight and no matter which land you conquer, it will never be found in a fight!"

Isira watched him go, shaking Her head with a faint smile. When She turned her head Leslie was staring at her. The goddess casually erased the distance between them and cupped her chin. "No one can make you what you were not meant to be, stop doubting yourself..." In Her eyes was a world of warmth and passion just waiting to be explored, daring the paladin-- the 40 something no one wanted anything to do with-- to turn away. Of course she wouldn't.

They'd come too far now to get what She was after. This was a test, this was the lesson and the training all rolled into one. But what did her goddess have planned for her? She was too tired for tact or politeness, so she blurted out the first question that popped into her head. "You're killing me here...what's with you two?"

Isira gave her a wry little smile. "We created the sphinxes, you don't think they were born capricious and mysterious, do you? Rather a reflection of my own proclivities, I suppose." A tinge of sadness touched Her eyes but just as quickly it vanished. "They're more amiable than Cherubs, quite by design might I add."

"Sounds like a good friend to have if not for the whole kidnapping thing..."

"Therein lies the rub I'm afraid. At least for you. Inquisitive and vague can be a double edged sword. But I'm sure you'll figure something out, all you need is faith."

Leslie barked a rueful laugh. "You know, I was a disbeliever before I met your cleric, right?"

Chapter 5: The Finer Points

"The End of the World is thought of as the practical border between land and the domain of the divine, but to hear a sphinx speak of it, you'd be forgiven for doubting the common wisdom. Not because a sphinx-- itself a divinely inspired being-- is to be believed wholly, but because of the accounts of sailors who happened to wash up on the craggy and unforgiving shores opposite our 'End of the World'.

Few make it back, fewer still have stories to tell. But these are respected men of Estan's military and scrupulous, upstanding merchants who managed to independently verify each other's stories. Listening to the wonder and fear in their voice, it's no wonder this place is thought of as a place for the divine; surely no sane mortal would long survive the place they describe.

The most consistent features of these stories are the skies; not unlike the skies that roll over the Forgotten Lands to the south. These skies are tinged with purple crystalline flakes that swirl around lightning which will erase entire swaths of land in the blink of an eye, winds howl with an eerie groan and peace is absent from all but the deepest caves.

Many of the sphinx you will encounter are happy to tell you about their birth place, some even claim to know how it came to be that way but prying those secrets from their sharpened claws is an act of divinity itself...

None the less, we must ask and we must explore, for it is in our nature to do so."

Taey Hobart

Research Notes on the Nature of Divinity

True to his word, the sphinx brought her a pouch containing a bunch of sewing supplies of exotic and indiscernible nature. She'd never seen metal needles or thread as fine, but when it came to it they functioned as well as the bone needles she was used to and the thread was a joy to work with.

The door to her 'cell' was left wide open from that point forward and over the next few hours a steady stream of steamy high tempo music filtered in as she worked. It sounded exotic, a feast for the ears and the only thing that managed to drown out the haze ever tightening around Leslie's mind.

The two immortals would occasionally dance into view as she worked her needle and grab her attention thoroughly. The way Isira moved was unlike anything she'd ever seen before-- her voluptuous form flowed from one pose to the other; her hips would sway as her back arched and she reached for the ceiling, her body moving like a sidewinder across sultry desert sands.

A snake had a bite, too, though and it was clear the sphinx knew it. When Her mood would turn and She retook the lead, he had no choice but to back down. Her heel clacked loudly against the tile and her long leg brushed dangerously against the sphinx's jaw. He looked up to his mistress, his goddess. And he crouched down in submission.

Leslie's mouth hung open as she watched.

They stayed like that for a long moment as if either one would break whatever invisible spell they'd weaved if they dared move a muscle. The moment seemed to stretch on forever until the sphinx stood once more and boldly reached for the goddess's hand, taking it and kissing the back.

She didn't realize it at the time, but this mating dance became a recurring thing over the next day or so that followed. Leslie worked tirelessly to finish the outfit she'd started, all the while sliding ever deeper into the foggy high the magic was giving off. She'd never been much of a drug user, but the perpetual buzz made it incredibly hard to think. When she'd focus on the magic in her garment, however, she could find more intricacies in the way things connected, with every new cut and connection she made, the nature of it changed slightly.

It was no wonder everyone lusted after magic, life was positively dull without the kiss of its power. It was so easy to see why the sphinx hoarded these treasures, it made life worth living-- well, maybe not worth living but it certainly made things more interesting! Her pains had faded somewhat and if not for the rumbling in her stomach, Leslie was sure she'd have never known she was hungry...What other mysteries must it hold?

Leslie flexed her hands and inspected her work. The lines were crisp and tight with wonderfully lavish flourishes wherever seams intersected and openings were made, even before she applied the accents, this was unquestionably some of her best work. She smiled as she leaned back. How had she accomplished so much in so little time, though? Was it her eyesight making things easier?

"Come to think of it," Leslie mused. "How long have we been here?"

"A few days!" Isira appeared beside her with a plate and glass of wine.

Leslie startled. "Shit! Uh-- sorry."

Isira chuckled. "Here, I didn't make this so you could ignore me again-- eat something, you're beginning to worry me!" It was at that time Leslie noticed the goddess was wearing a saffron dress that clung to her like a second skin-- with a high collar and luxurious feather stitching motif it painted a striking contrast to her golden brown skin and made her hair all the more vibrant.

"Uh--" Leslie blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You've been ignoring us for days! You've not slept at all and I've barely heard a peep from you," Isira grinned as she wrapped an arm around Her paladin's shoulder and laid Her chin there, looking down. She sniffed. "Well, I suppose the bright side is that we don't need to see to a bath for you."

Days? No, it was minutes. Surely she was being messed with. "What- what happened?"

"You entered a trance. I've seen it happen a few times, but almost never for that long! You continue to make me wonder, perhaps you're more magically sensitive than I first thought." Isira prodded her with the plate. "But for now, I want you to eat something."

Leslie scarfed down her dinner but when it was all said and done, Isira's attention slid to the outfit. "My my, that has quite the interesting feel to it, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I...I don't know how to-- well, I think I do? But it's so hard to think! It's like I'm...lost or something."

"Mmm. That happens sometimes--" she glanced back to check if anyone was listening. "It's the crystal, you see." Isira smiled. "Don't give me that look, it's been around longer than most of us were. You're probably a little dizzy, yes?"

"I-- Yeah."

"I figured. Don't worry, you're not going insane. It's a side effect of direct exposure-- you'll get over it in time..."

"Is- is that what was taken from you?"

A flash of irritation washed over Isira but she smiled at Leslie all the same, "Nope! It's been a terribly long time since I've even seen a crystal this close to the surface. I'm not terribly thrilled, but this is Elisandra's sphinx and, regretably, I can't change this place or I'd have moved it somewhere safer."

"Safer..." Leslie tensed. "Why do I get a sinking feeling about this?"

Isira chuckled. "It's safe enough. Elisandra taught Her little pet how to handle them safely, but there was a time. Those crystals took from the world its only hope of a peaceful future. But that's before your time and largely irrelevant by now, isn't it?" She smiled playfully, resettling Herself around Her paladin in a manner that was as protective as it was enticing.

Without a thought Isira rested her chin on the mortal's shoulder, holding her close. "I miss those days sometimes, but we can't go back...I tried once. Just to see if it could be done--"

"Should I be hearing this?"

"Would you rather I didn't?" She shot back. "If I can't confide in my own paladin, who can I talk to?"

Leslie glanced back, interlacing her fingers with Isira's as the goddess watched her. She betrayed nothing of the thoughts roiling behind Her eyes, but there was a vague sense of sadness about Her. Just as quickly as Leslie recognized it, though, Isira smiled warmly and kissed Leslie's neck. The seamstress scoffed. "You bring me into this mess and try to get me to forget about it with a couple kisses and some words?"