Drowning at Dusk Ch. 01

"Tehrak," said a raspy, low voice that must have been Xelari's. "Blessed be the final death."

"Blessed be the final death," the orc growled back.

I cocked my head at the greeting. It sounded ritualistic and spiritual, like something a cult would use, though it was no mantra I'd ever overheard before. And I'd killed plenty of cultists and dark priests in my day, and had heard plenty of eldritch prayers in the moment before my blade had found it target.

"I'm surprised you're not back at the feast."

"I figured while they're distracted with meat and ale, I could slip away to voice my concerns."

"When did I ever give you the impression that I needed to hear your concerns?"

Tehrak laughed, the sharp sound slicing through the night air.

"That's exactly your problem, Xelari. This attitude. I share your faith, you know. My soul aligns with yours. For that, I'm due a bit of respect."

"You have uttered the vows and undergone the rites, Tehrak. But do not for a second think this means you are worthy of the respect afforded to one who has walked the path as long as I have. But since you have already interrupted my study and meditations, you might as well interrupt it further. What is the nature of your concern?"

"The men are growing restless," Tehrak said. Though I couldn't see his face, I could hear the tension in his words, and could certainly guess he was speaking through clenched teeth. "If we hadn't brought them back such a feast tonight, we'd have probably faced mutinies or desertions by morning."

"Given the poor performance of these cutthroats, I am not sure I would have lamented such a loss. A mutiny, at least, would have been interesting. Would have gotten the blood up."

"The reason for the poor performance is their ignorance, Xelari. You still won't tell us exactly what it is you're searching for or why. If we knew, then maybe-"

"What would a bunch of tomb-robbers, rapists, murderers, and horse-thieves know of ancient relics, Terakh? If they were scholars, mages, or acolytes then I would be inclined to impart more to them, as they might have knowledge to offer in kind."

I shivered a bit at her tone. Voids below, that voice of hers: the disdain, the boredom, the bitter venom all entwined...

Would have been nice to hear that tone in a different, more intimate context.

"They may not be scholars, mages, or acolytes, but they've robbed or killed enough of such ilk to have won a little bit of knowledge. They've certainly fenced off enough stolen books or relics to have picked up a few tricks. Come on, Xelari. Do you want this relic or not?"

"Impudent, as always."

Tehrak chuckled.

"Embracing the path does not erase all one's faults."

"If anyone else in this camp had used that tone with me, I'd have taken their eyes. Or used the runes to warp their minds and reduce them to drooling husks, like I did with those three who stole from us last week."

"I need no reminder."

"I think you do. I will tolerate your impudence. But I will not forgive it. Not freely."

That low, husky tone took on a more wicked edge.

"And the price?" Tehrak's words quivered.

"The usual. Kneel."

My jaw dropped. I heard a heavy thud as Tehrak fell to his knees within the tent, followed by the murmur of fabric falling away.

"Voids below," Tehrak muttered. "Never gets old, seeing you like that."

I bit down on my lip, envying the orc warrior and what he got to witness. What did those curves of hers look like without that form-fitting armor in the way? My mind's eye pictured the smooth, violet-tinged gray skin, and perhaps a thatch of bright white hair between her legs. Kissable nipples and-

What the fuck was wrong with me? I was here to kill the woman, not fuck her.

Focus, I whispered inwardly.Focus, hold, seize your moment.

"There," Xelari said in that low, domineering tone of hers. Next came a short, sharp sigh. "While you work, I shall...elucidate you on our goals here." After another sigh she continued. "The First Eyes of our order have commanded me to locate a circlet of Amisra, the ancient elven goddess of love and lust."

I grinned at that; those bandits who'd talked about that divinely-blessed dildo had not been entirely wrong. Xelari was in fact something blessed by a goddess of lust. But why?

"Why not tell us, then?" Terakh asked, a bit breathless.

A sharp slap echoed through the tent.

"Did I grant you permission to stop? No. And just for that interruption...my ass now. Quickly."

I bit back another snicker, and Xelari loosed a louder, lower moan.

A part of me wondered if I should risk taking a peek...

No. That was beyond foolish. Even if I somehow could use the distraction of their desire to my advantage, Terakh was in there was well, and I didn't relish the thought of having to fight a lust-crazed orc as well as a domineering dusk elf cultist.

I could wait. And perhaps once Xelari was exhausted and spent in the aftermath, I could seize my moment.

"I was not initially forthcoming because such a relic would fetch a high price to the right buyers, and I did not want any of your men to think of stealing it for themselves to sell off. I thought it better to get hold of it before the more greedy-minded had any idea what I was after. But given-" She hissed, apparently through clenched teeth. "Good, good. Two fingers inside. Now."

The hiss turned to a sharp groan.

"But given my desperation and the pressure from the First Eyes, I think I can dispense with the secrecy. Tomorrow, I will inform your men of the specifics of what we search for, and see if that jogs their memory about rumors of temples or shrines to Amisra in the region."

Wheels churned within my mind, wondering if I could get my hands on that relic first. Then I could arrange for some sort of bargain, and get in close enough to-

No. Why go through all that trouble when she was right there?

"Almost," Xelari hissed, then muttered something in a harsh, rapid language that I assumed was her native tongue. Next came a thrumming moan like something a beast would make as it gorged on its prey, and then a purr of satisfaction. "Well done, Terakh."

"At the risk of having to pay for forgiveness again," the orc grunted, and I could almost imagine the sight of Xelari's moisture dripping down his chin. "My cock is hard as steel and-"

"Do I think I care one wit for your discomfort, Terakh? If you need release, seek a hole from among your subordinates to satisfy you, or spill yourself in your own tent. Leave me."

After an irritated huff, Terakh left the tent. Once his footfalls had faded, I slithered out of the ferns and crawled over the edge of the tent. There I paused and listened, hearing what sounded like the shuffling of papers, and then the rustling of silk.

The minutes stretched on. Raucous songs rose from the cookfires, followed by a few bouts of laughter, then an angry shout followed by a scream. That only inspired more laughter, so I guessed there was some sort of amusing brawl breaking out between the drunken brigands.

Good. Let them focus on their own bloodletting, and ignore the violence to come within their leader's tent.

Once I was satisfied that the shuffling of papers within had ceased, I lingered for several more minutes and used my blade to cut a small eyehole in the side of the unusual silken fabric.

Within was a large cot, upon which laid Xelari. Her back was to me, and I could see her body moving with the slow, steady breaths of sleep. I licked my lips, silently cursing the pile of fur blankets that covered her slumbering form.

On the other side of the tent was a large cart filled with books and scrolls. At the center was a table covered in maps. Next to that was a barrel of wine, and a rack which held the skintight armor she'd worn during her return from the hunt.

No other lovers, officers, or bodyguards. That other sentry was still right outside, but I was confident that the ruckus caused by the brawl and the feast would cover the quiet whisper of my blade sliding into Xelari's heart.

What a shame. At least I could use the pay from the contract to enjoy myself with a curvaceous beauty at a brothel somewhere. Maybe I could even pay her extra to act all cruel and domineering like Xelari.

After another lick of my lips, I used the knife to widen the eye-hole into a slit wide enough for me to slip through. Once inside, I carefully folded the slit to cover up the damage as best I could.

Just in case she awoke or her sentry stepped inside, I grasped my fury-rune in my free hand.

One step.

Two.

Three.

I passed by the map table and glanced down, noting a detailed map of the Ulkan Wildwood, along with the rest of the province. Several blue symbols had been drawn around settlements and landmarks. Most notable was a blue little claw mark drawn beside the city of Arkostead: the very city where my client was based.

Coincidence?

I shook my head, refocused, and took another step.

Hovering beside Xelari's sleeping form, I raised the knife. Old habits kicked in, and I very nearly uttered the old death-prayers I'd once used while an acolyte of Oztar.

But the only god I served that night was silver. My only faith was that of profit.

My knife plunged through the furs, straight into Xelari's sleeping back...

Her body vanished in a puff of silvery light, and to my horror I realized that the form beneath the furs was instead a neatly arranged pile of blankets and pillows.

An illusion.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I whirled, readying my knife.

The bookcase on the other side of the tent shimmered, and Xelari herself stepped from it. She was clad in a delicate black shift that just barely fell past her sex. I could still make out a few droplets of moisture clinging to her thighs, left from Terakh's skilled attention. Her right hand rested on a shapely hip, while the other clutched a runestone far larger than the ones I used.

After that initial hesitation, I lunged.

I vaulted up and onto the table and leapt down towards her, hoping the shock of the move and the height advantage would be enough.

Xelari shouted something, raising the runestone. It pulsed with green light but I collided with her before it could activate. It tumbled from her grasp, and her other hand rose and slammed into my throat. Choking and gasping at the pain, I nonetheless managed to slash the blade down, slicing a shallow cut just beneath her right eye. Dark blue blood rain down that soft, beautiful cheek.

Both of her hands grasped for my wrist, shoving the blade away before I could bring it down into her eye.

"Elengred!" she called out, her voice low and calm.

The tent flap rippled, and in charge the spear-wielding sentry. As I whipped my gaze back towards him, Xelari slammed her knee into my stomach and sent me rolling off of her. She grasped the runestone.

As the flare of arcane light filled the tent, Elengred rushed me. I squeezed the fury-rune and felt the surge of fiery wrath fill my body. My senses sharpened, my muscles tensed, and I flashed the spearman a feral grin.

He closed in. I bobbed left, slammed my hand down on the haft of his spear and threw him off balance. Xelari raised the runestone, and in the haze of battle my old training kicked in and I recognized the eruption-rune she was about to deploy.

I slashed Elengred in the leg and grabbed his spear, using my strength and his momentum to whirl him around, placing him between me and Xelari. The eruption-rune went off, sending a beam of molten rock and fire directly into the sentry's back. Flesh, bones, and robes turned to ash almost instantly, incinerating his upper body before he even had a chance to realize his doom.

He crumpled, his ashes filling the tent.

"What a waste," Xelari said, looking with bored disdain down upon Elengred's charred corpse. It was the expression of someone who'd dropped a cup of tea, not someone who'd just lost a favored soldier.

Without another person to toss in the way, and with frenzied shouts coming from outside, I decided not to press my luck. I'd not stand a chance against another eruption-rune at that range, not without other runes to ward off that fiery magic.

I barged out into the night, only to see a half-dozen bandits rushing towards Xelari's tent from the cookfire. I darted to my left, sprinting back the way I came.

Four more brigands stumbled out of their tents, half-dressed but fully-armed.

Shit. Should have taken my chances with Xelari. Maybe if I'd killed the boss they were all so disgruntled with, I could have maybe convinced them to let me pass.

I could still make it, though. If I could break through those four brigands, it would be a swift sprint back to the cliff. From there, it would be a mad climb up as they chased or shot at me.

Still better than ashes.

I charged, the fury-rune guiding my blade-arm. One hapless bandit swung with his axe, and my blade jammed into his forearm, forcing him to drop it. I caught the axe before it hit the ground, then slammed it into the knee of my next foe. He toppled in a wailing heap, and then I was onto the next.

A knife in the throat to one man, a punch to the ribs of the fourth.

And there it was. My opening.

"Alive!" Xelari called out.

Something in her tone caused my head to lurch back. I saw her standing there, runestone aglow, as a tide of brigands rushed past her.

One of the bandits raised a crossbow. Xelari shouted, her face twisting with rage.

The bolt leapt forth, and only the speed granted to me by the fury-rune allowed me to dodge to the side just in time. It sliced so close to me that it brushed aside a few of my short red curls.

Xelari raised the runestone and sent a pulse of black lightning into the back of the man who'd shot at me. His face grew pale, black veins pulsed through his face, and he went limp at his comrades' feet.

"Alive," she repeated.

A flick of her fingers, and the bandits moved in. They did not rush in with reckless abandon, and most kept their bladed weapons sheathed in favor of their fists, clubs, or the hafts of their axes.

My foolish delay to look back at Xelari had cost me: another five bandits had sprinted around in that brief moment and were closing in on me from the other side.

I was cornered.

I could surrender, of course. It wouldn't have been the first time a job had gone wrong and I found myself in chains. But the last time that had happened, I'd been a member of the White Talons, and so my comrades had come to my rescue. I would receive no such daring rescue from the Lord-Protector who'd hired me, though. He'd just write off the down payment as a tax expense and send in some other fool to finish where I'd failed.

I could still make it, though. I had to.

If I killed enough of them, I could carve my way to the cliffs. Xelari's command that I be taken alive would mean they wouldn't shoot me in the back on my way up the rocks.

Still empowered by the fire of the fury-rune, I snatched up the axe I'd slammed into the still-moaning bandit's knee, and moved to rush the smaller group of attackers. Wild swings from the axe kept the bigger foes at bay, allowing me to dart in and finish off the smaller, weaker ones with my dagger.

The fury-rune and my old training guided me. A jab to the ribs. A swift slash to the face. A brutal kick to the groin.

Within moments, most of the men blocking my way were dead or dying, and the strength of the fury-rune sent me leaping over them.

I could make it.

I broke into a fierce sprint, slamming my shoulder into a confused and drunken orc who had just stumbled out of his tent. As he went flailing back into his tent, a large shape blurred out of the corner of my vision.

Terakh. His blade-a diabolically massive sword that probably weighed half as much as me-came swinging for my legs. Apparently he'd heard Xelari's command, though, for he used the flat of it instead of the blade itself. It cracked into my shins and sent me spinning into the ground. Agony roared up my leg: a fracture or two, no doubt.

That would make climbing up the cliff damnably difficult, if not impossible, even assuming I got away clean.

"Careful," Xelari chided.

"Yes," I spat through gritted teeth as I managed to right myself. "Careful."

Terakh laughed and twirled his blade. The other bandits rushed forward, forming a ring around the orc and me. Xelari lurked just beyond the bandits, her green eyes glittering with rage, curiosity and...hunger.

"Lay down your blade," she said. "Make this easier on yourself. You will not make it out of this camp. You can either become my prisoner without further injury, or Terakh will have to break a few of your bones in the process."

"I think I can take him," I hissed, glaring at the orc, though I was certain that I couldn't. Not with the fury-rune fading, and not with my legs already injured. "He's probably already a bit spent from eating out your arse, anyway. Not up to his full strength."

A handful of the bandits laughed. Xelari's plump lips twitched into a smirk.

Terakh's red eyes narrowed, and he loosed a bestial growl and came for me.

Even my taunt wasn't enough for him to completely forget Xelari's command, and he swung at me with the flat of his blade yet again. Now that I was ready for it, I found it far easier to dodge, even with the agony roaring through my legs.

One of the other bandits rushed for me, wielding a cooking skillet as a weapon.

"Mine!" Terakh barked.

The man scampered back into the ring, creating a sort of makeshift gladiatorial arena for myself and the frenzied orc. Another wild swing from Terakh came within inches of my hip.

Another swing, and that time I ducked down, rolled, and slashed my knife across his shin.

A fair reply for the injury he'd done me.

He howled and stumbled forward, then I kicked at the back of his legs. Wounded and unbalanced, he toppled into the ring of onlookers.

And I had another opening.

I rushed forward, slamming my boot into Terakh's back to vault over him and the other scattered bandits. I hit the ground and rolled, moving smoothly into a sprint.

Almost.

Almost.

Almost.

Green light flickered out of the corner of my vision. I glanced back to see that Xelari had stepped forth to raise the runestone yet again. Ethereal serpents writhed from the runestone, and sliced forth through the air.

Just as my hand grasped the first rocky outcropping, the snakes crashed into me. The impact sent icy tingles of magic through my body. One snake entwined around my wrist, and its ghostly fangs bit into my forearm. I felt no pain, though my hand went numb and the knife tumbled from my grasp. Another snake bit into my thigh, and that leg gave out. I slumped forward just as two conjured serpents sang their fangs into my neck.

"Almost," I muttered.

Darkness rolled over the vestiges of my awareness as I rolled onto my back.

The numbness spread throughout my entire body. As my vision faded, Terakh rose and limped over to me. After kicking my blade away, he snarled and twirled his blade.

"Alive," Xelari said, her voice as icy as the sensations that had brought my body low.

The dusk elf moved to stand beside the orc, standing above me in all of her dark, curvaceous glory.

"Oh, I have such plans for you."

Her smirk shifted into a hungry, wolfish smile. Her bare foot rose, pressed down on my throat. Rendered helpless by the paralyzing bite of those summoned serpents, all I could do was stare up at her as the breath was choked out of me.

Darkness rushed in.