Mud and Magic Ch. 08

The demon princess shook her head. "These forests are older than both ours and the elven civilization. With the elves gone, they have reverted back to their ancient, untamed form. Who knows what the earth has spit out to defend the woods?" Her tail made a slashing motion, carving a sigil into one of the trunks nearby. "Let's fall back a bit more. Should we have to scare off a critter, I don't want to alert the camp."

"If Chassari hasn't done so already," Lishaka muttered darkly. "She can't simply waltz in there, pretending to be a guard, can she?"

Rhys grinned, remembering the shape-shifting wand Chassari had used on herself the other day. "I'm sure she can be very persuasive if she has to be," he said. "Have a little faith."

Lishaka snorted. "Faith? Goblins don't even know how to pray." She spat. "Neither do I."

"Good," Borna whispered. "Less noise from you then. Let's hunker down and wait until she comes back."

* * * *

In the dripping darkness under the towering trees, time seemed to crawl even slower than a paralyzed slug in molasses. It didn't help that Rhys couldn't see any stars to mark the passing of the hours. The tension was thick between the companions. When words were exchanged, they were hissed in heated whispers. He didn't notice Chassari at first, having dozed off. Only when the serpent-woman caressed his cheek did Rhys struggle awake. He forced his eyes open. The darkness around them was almost absolute. He gathered a mote of power and touched the back of his hand. It began to glow with warm, golden light.

Chassari still wore the guard's outfit, the black helmet a bit too large for her slender head. She had a bow and quiver over a shoulder.

"How did it go?" Rhys asked, sitting up straight.

"Ssso many interesssting observationsss," Chassari hissed. Borna loomed behind her, a lanky shadow with her sinuous tail peeking over her shoulder.

Lishaka yawned and joined them. The goblin brushed a few twigs out of her topknot. "Spill the beans already," she muttered. "What are they doing in there?"

"I'm not quite sssure yet," Chassari said. "I didn't dare risssk my disguise by sssneaking into the commander's tent to look at hisss notes. But I'm sure they're planning big. The food and weapon ssstoresss would suit a small army, not an expeditionary force. Alssso, there might be an added wrinkle to think about." She dug around in a belt pouch and produced a folded-up piece of parchment and a bit of glowing chalk. She unfolded the parchment and placed it on a tree stump close by. The others clustered around her and watched as Chassari drew a rough plan of the camp.

"Sssadly I wasss only a sssimple grunt," she said, finishing up her drawing by marking several locations with numbers. "so I didn't have accesss to every tent. These," she tapped several large squares along the western edge of the camp, "are the ssstores. Food and water, equipment, treasure. The lassst two are well guarded." Another tap, this time on an octagonal mark. "Commander's tent. Lightly guarded." She indicated another place. "This isss a mystery. A sssimple tent but extremely well guarded. By a two-headed ogre, no less."

"I didn't know that Carver employs monsters," Rhys said.

"Me neither," Chassari admitted. "And to add another myssstery on top -- the markingsss on the ogre's armor are alien. Definitely not Carver's." She tapped her stolen armor and the axe-and-goat head crest fixed to her right shoulder.

"We'll find out what any of that means sooner or later," Rhys said. "Either by investigating the commander's place or by interrogating him." He pointed at one marking Chassari hadn't explained yet. It was rather big and close to the back wall of the camp. "What is this?"

"That'sss the added wrinkle I wass talking about. The only permanent ssstructure in the whole camp, the wallsss excluded."

"What's in there?" Lishaka asked. "The kitchen?"

"A brothel. Or torture chamber, I'm not sssure," Chassari said. "My sssquad matesss dragged me there, to find sssome amusement."

"Why am I not surprised?" Borna growled. "What's on offer there?"

"Sssome young elves, male and female. Sssome human girlsss. And two dark elvesss. And the one in charge of thisss place is a dark elf alssso, bearing the sssame markingsss as the ogre."

"Not one of Carver's men?" Rhys asked, rubbing his chin. "This is mysterious indeed."

"How many guards are there?" Borna asked. "That should be a key factor in figuring out how we are dealing with all this."

"Quite a lot," Chassari said. "Especially for a sssimple depot." She muttered to herself, counting things off her fingers. "At least fifteen on active duty, not counting the ogre, plus twice that number asleep by now."

Rhys paled. "That's... almost fifty people!"

Chassari snorted. "And only a handful of them are truly dangerousss," she said. "Morale is horrible, despite the free cuntsss and asses on offer. Most of the grunts would rather be anywhere else."

"Besides, they don't know we're about to hit them," Borna said.

Chassari giggled. "And... I passed out sssome drinksss for my comeradesss." Grinning, she held up a small phial and uncorked it. A heavy aroma wafted out. Even inhaling just a whiff, Rhys could feel his eyelids droop.

"Sleeping poison?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yesss. Their reaction will be sssluggish."

Rhys fished for the Infinite Water Bottle and splashed a few handfuls of water into his face before taking a long pull from it. The cool liquid chased the last vestiges of drowsiness away and he looked at the glowing floor plan again.

"Fine. We have two... three objectives to deal with," he said. "First, we need to destroy the storage tents and their contents. Then, we should try and find out why they're here in the first place. That means either taking the commander alive or pilfering his notes. The final goal is freeing the captives."

"I think I can help with the dessstruction of the suppliesss," Chassari said. "I have ssseen many barrelsss with lamp oil all over the camp. They might come in handy."

"Good to know," Rhys admitted. "We'll use them as needed."

"What about Carver's men?" Borna asked, flexing her claws.

Rhys exhaled slowly. "I have thought long and hard about this. They are our enemies. And many probably will have no qualms about raping, pillaging and murdering." Images of Mirrin, wide-eyed and shying away from him flickered behind his closed eyes. "But if we chase them down and murder every single one of them, we are no better than they are. When they oppose you, deal with them as you see fit. But I will not order you to become murderers. If they flee, let them. Objections?"

None came. A wave of relief washed over him. "Now, here's my idea. We'll tackle the camp from two sides. I'd like to pair each spellcaster with a fighter for maximum destructive power. Chassari, you'll take Lishaka with you and Borna is with me. Good so far?"

He saw three curt nods. "All right." Rhys again inspected the plan. "Borna and I will attack the camp's back wall and deal with the slaves. Lishaka and Chassari, you cause a ruckus at the front gate."

"Why us?" Lishaka asked.

"Because you can grab Chassari and teleport out of harm's way if push comes to shove," Rhys explained. "I can't teleport yet, so you need to draw their attention away from us. Once the chaos has begun, slip into the camp and thrash the supplies. We'll meet at the commander's tent and teleport home from there once we have the information why they're here. Sound good?"

"What if things start to go awry?" Borna asked. "I see no fault in your plan but it's never wrong to have an alternative strategy."

"If we have to flee or get separated, we'll regroup back at the 'Dryad,'" Rhys said. "We'll divide the trail rations before the attack. Lisha and Chassari can teleport there and Borna and I will have to retrace our steps. Thanks to the compass, it shouldn't be that hard."

"Let'sss hope it doesn't come to that," Chassari said. "I've alssso got usss something from 'my' bunk." She opened a pack attached to the back of her belt and handed out small healing potions. "Ssstandard issue for all gruntsss it seems."

"Will you be flaunting the enemy's armor during the attack?" Rhys asked her.

"Oh, godsss no." Chassari stripped and quickly changed back into her jet-black bodysuit. "I'll keep the bow and arrows though." She slung the items over her shoulder again.

"When will we attack?" Borna asked, cracking her knuckles.

"I see no reason why we should wait," Rhys said. "Lisha and Chassari, we'll wait for your signal. When the screaming starts at the front gate, we will begin our attack."

"Fine with me," Chassari said, hugging Rhys. "Good luck." Her lips brushed his cheek.

"You too." He returned the favor, breathing a kiss onto her cheek as well. Lishaka came next and he went to a knee.

Her hug was much fiercer. "Don't do anything stupid, you hear?" the goblin whispered. "I want to do you over and over again and I can't do that when you're dead."

"Why the grim thoughts?" Rhys asked her. He pecked a kiss onto her lips. She pulled him in close and devoured his mouth with hers. "Because I have a shitty feeling about this whole thing," Lishaka muttered. "Just be careful. Please."

"Will be," Rhys said. Looking to the side, he saw Chassari caress Borna's cheek.

"I won't bite," the demon princess grumbled. "Ready to leave, Rhys?"

He hugged Lishaka one last time before coming to his feet. "Yes. Let's introduce ourselves, shall we?"

* * * *

"I feel awfully naked here," Rhys muttered, kneeling in the field behind the supply depot. The ground was soft, clammy mud and the little hollow they used as a hiding spot offered precious little in the way of cover. At least there are no latrines we could fall into. He saw three guards patrol along the wooden palisade, their torches feeble spots of light.

Borna snorted. "You're one to talk." She flapped her loincloth. "They can't see us, parading their torches about. If there's a dark elf peeking through the darkness, it would be a whole other story, but I can't see... or smell anything from over here." She shifted her weight to the other knee. "We would be neck-deep in trouble by now if there was one."

"Having to wait is maddening," Rhys muttered. "And I thought we had the long way around."

Borna chuckled deeply. "Don't forget Lishaka's short legs."

Rhys opened his mouth for a retort but a sharp bang and a brilliant fireball from the camp's opposite side cut him off.

"Finally," Borna snarled, coming to her feet, Rhys hot on her heels. They sprinted across the uneven ground, trying not to flounder in the mud. Despite her stronger legs, Borna was slower than Rhys, her hooves offering precious little traction on the treacherous surface. When the wall was less than a hundred feet away, they could hear the alarm screams. Someone was furiously ringing a bell.

Rhys came unsteadily to a halt and drew in as much power as he could. An arrow hit the mud close to his foot and he flinched, looking to find who had shot at him. The archer sat in the closest watch tower. Snarling, Rhys changed his aim. Instead of tearing a hole into the palisade, he unleashed a fireball at the watch tower. He was rewarded with a massive explosion as something caught fire and detonated. When he could see again, the watch tower was gone, only some jagged and smoldering struts remained. Borna dashed past him and leaped over the wreckage. Rhys cursed and slogged through the mud until he reached the wall. A moment later, a shrill cry came from above. He dodged to the side just as a soldier, arms flailing, landed in the mud. The helmet cracked against a half-buried rock with a sickening sound and the black-armored body lay still. Above him, he heard more shouting, followed by Borna's growl. He pulled in more power, mainly from the wet earth which dried with strange, cracking sounds under his feet. Smiling grimly, Rhys placed his hands onto the trunks making up the palisade, willing the wood to rot and weaken. He quickly retreated a few dozen feet as the noises from above became panicked. A twenty-foot stretch of the palisade began to warp and worble before it practically folded in unto itself, tearing down even more trunks which had been leashed to the ones Rhys had softened. Sheathing himself in a fresh cast of Armor, Rhys clambered over the mushy wood piles.

Borna awaited him on the other side. It was suspiciously quiet.

"Where is everyone?" Rhys asked.

As if to answer him, another explosion rocked the camp. He heard a triumphant yell as a gigantic flame tongue lashed towards the heavens. There were noises of battle but they seemed intermittent and uncoordinated.

Be careful, Lisha, Rhys thought. "Now for the slaves," he said aloud.

"This way," Borna purred, her stinger pointing towards a large log house close by. The door was wide open and just as they drew closer, a lone guard stumbled out, trying to belt his kilt and draw his weapon at the same time.

In one fluid motion, Rhys gathered and released a spurt of power, just enough to cause the guard's helmet to shrink. The poor fellow completely lost his balance and landed face-first in the dirt. A moment later, Borna was on him. There was a sickening tearing noise. Borna straightened up, the guard's head dangling in her claws. Disgusted, she tossed it aside.

Shivering, Rhys stepped over the headless corpse and into the log house. A rush of warm, stinking air washed over him. The stench was horrible. Unwashed bodies, spirits and the unmistakable secretions of sex mixed together with sweet, cloying incense caused his stomach to turn. Two large fire bowls illuminated and warmed the room while incense burners had been placed near the door. The room was cut in half by a wooden partition and a pink curtain.

The half they were in had twelve cages along the walls, each one just big enough to lie down in and most of them were occupied. All inhabitants had silver neck rings fastened to fittings near the back of the cage by intricate chains. Rhys saw two elven boys, probably Mirrin's age, their faces blank masks of apathy. There were four human girls, the youngest around the same age as the elven boys, the oldest probably his age. One eyed them suspiciously while the others had curled up in fetal positions, asleep or unconscious. Four elven girls or women occupied the next few cages, one of them sporting elaborate thorn-and-leaf tattoos. She stood upright, her eyes twin flares of hatred, her skin, just a hint of bronze, marred by bruises and cut marks, her silver hair a caked rat's nest plastered to her skull. The last two cages were empty.

The tell-tale slapping of flesh against flesh could be heard from behind the curtain. There were pained whimpers too, barely muffled by the garish pink fabric. Rhys placed two fingers on his lips, locking gazes with the standing elf. She gave a curt nod and beckoned him closer. She didn't even flinch as Borna slithered into the room, taking up position near the partition.

"Who are you?" the tattoed elf hissed, her Common heavily accented.

"We're here to destroy this camp," Rhys whispered back. "And to free you." He indicated the whole room. "I'm Rhys, she's Borna."

"Sylae," the elf whispered. "Get me out of here and I promise to take down as many of these bi'ir as I can before I die."

Rhys looked at the cage. It was made from sturdy iron bars, with strange engravings along some of the cross members. Even with his alteration powers, he doubted he could simply magic them away. "Who has keys for these?"

Sylae made an unintelligible noise. "The commander has a set and the pig in the other room another." Her head jerked in the direction of the curtain. A pleading voice said something in a language Rhys couldn't understand, earning a reply in that same language. The other voice was male and sounded at the same time winded and supremely arrogant.

"Then we'll be right back," Rhys whispered. "And you're not the least bit suspicious about us showing up here?"

Sylae made another sound, maybe a stifled laugh. "The enemy of my enemy," was all she said. "Now go, I can't stand another moment in this filth pit."

A high-pitched squeal came from behind the curtain, a sound full of agony and denial. Rhys made a gesture for Borna to follow him while he sprinted past the fabric. The stench of incense became even more oppressive. The room beyond the curtain was darker, only lit by two small oil lamps on opposite sides. The floor was covered with cushions. Four waist-high poles poked out from between the pillows, with holes drilled through them in regular intervals. Three people were in the cushions. All of them were naked, and all were dark elves. Two females had been leashed to one of the poles, their chains threaded through the holes. One of them was prone, clutching her jaw, while the other was on hands and knees, with a toned male kneeling behind her. Going by her whimpers, he was none too gentle while he drilled her. All of them were facing away from the curtain. Rhys tapped Borna's forearm and made a curling gesture with his hand. She growled softly and stalked through the cushions, her tail a blur as it curled around the male's neck, yanking him backwards. His cock slipped from the whimpering females's ass. Even in the dim light, Rhys saw the blood trickling from her violated orifices.

"One hint of trickery and you're dead," Borna cheerfully announced, crossing her deadly claws in front of the male's chest. He deflated almost instantly.

Rhys planted a beacon of magical illumination on one of the poles. Everyone except him hissed in annoyance. The male and one of the females, the one he had been busy raping, had similar tattoos -- spider motifs with a distinct symbol on the spider's abdomen.

The female who had clutched her jaw pulled herself into a sitting position, hugging the other close. She eyed Rhys and Borna curiously, without a hint of fear.

"What is happening here?" Rhys asked, trying to put as much authority into his voice as possible.

"What does it look like, friend?" the male dark elf replied. "I'm fucking two bitches. Making sure they perform as expected."

"One of them has the same tattoos as you," he observed. "Are you related?"

"She stopped being my sister the moment she spread her legs for the Silver Slut," the male snapped, spitting into the cushions. "Mother asked me to administer some punishment ahead of their trial -- and what punishment would be worse than having them fuck these dirty surface dwellers they like so much?"

"And since he's such a devout spider-kisser, he can't help but amuse himself at our expense," the dark elf with the bruised jaw muttered.

"How did you get in here anyway? You're no-" His words were choked off when Borna tightened the coil of her tail.

"Shall I kill him?" Borna asked. "Or do you want to feed him to the slaves?"

"We should interrogate him first, find out what he knows," Rhys said. The dark elf male relaxed visibly. An oily smile tugged at his lips.

"You don't need him," the dark elf woman who so far had done all the talking mumbled. "I can tell you in his stead."

"Fine," Borna said. The stinger came up and sank into the male's eye. He jerked once before going limp.

Rhys recoiled. "What are you doing?" he snapped.

"Removing a possible hazard. You know Hagazz. If all dark elven males are like him, you can bet your cute ass that he'd try something stupid the moment we let down our guard." She tossed the lifeless body aside and tried the chains. They didn't even budge as she tore at them.

"Your friend is right," the female dark elf murmured. "If you don't mind, Jerax's clothes are over there. If you find a necklace with a small silver disc..."

Rhys found a bundle of well-made black and purple garments near the curtain. He pulled a key ring from a belt loop and two necklaces with silver discs from a pouch.