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1: Humble Mercenaries

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1: Humble Mercenaries

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      Vondiras stood amongst the scene, feeling ice cold, anger and venom battling inside him beneath his seemingly cold, emotionless exterior. He allowed a few tears, soft, muted, as his teeth ached from clenching his jaw. The elf cleaned his hunting knife on the hem of his black cloak, disgusted at what he'd been forced to do. Around him a small pack of timber wolves, six adults, and three pups, were dead. A cow corpse was present, seeming a rather fresh kill. The wolves and pups had all been shot, but worse, the cow had her front legs broken preemptively, and she'd been staked out here, chained, unable to flee. She'd been bait. The wolves all showed gunshot wounds, however those whom did this hadn't even had the decency and respect to insure they'd killed all they shot. Vondiras believed it had been at least three or four hours since the events in this little clearing occurred, and when he'd arrived, he'd had to put one adult and one of the pups out of their misery with his knife.

 

      He knew locals in the villages both in the woods or a bit further south at the edge of the prairie running along Depenwood's south-eastern coast knew better than to commit such behavior, especially his fellow woad elves. Once he calmed down, he set about examining the scene for clues, and rather swiftly found a trail. Two shooters, they'd hidden upwind, amongst some thick murchroot and undergrowth, strong smelling stuff. However they were sloppy woodsmen and though it was winter, it had not snowed in two days, so their prints were as clear as one could hope. There were signs of a small cart of some sort not far from the scene as well. Vondiras whispered a small prayer to Boran the Bloodhound for the wolves, fellow hunters and predators as they were, before heading off to follow the tracks.........

 

      Vondiras blinked a few times, coming out of his torpor, his trance like state of rest, and the dream, well memory, he'd been revisiting. The sun's light was just beginning to spill into the stable, and around him, the camels and those few horses there were began to come awake. Vondiras felt movement beside him, feeling the motion of his canine companion, and his best friend, Silvius. The she-wolf came awake blinking as well, yawning, with a bit of a squeaking behind it, an odd but adorable trait of hers. Vondiras marveled again, as he did most mornings, at how well the pair of them continued to fare so far from home, in an environment so foreign. The oppressive heat of the deserts of Susma bothered them as it would anyone, yet in the three months since they'd arrived, the pair had made it through the worst of the dry season and now the rains should be but a few weeks away. In particular, Silvius, a she-wolf just over a year old, fared surprisingly better than Vondiras expected, and seemed to have adapted rather well in spite of her notable fur coat.

 

      The elven hunter leaned back in the straw the pair had spent the night amongst, as he considered the oddity of his companion, as Silvius nuzzled his cheek, giving him a kiss or two. He absent mindedly scratched behind her ear, a half smile on his face at the absurdity of it all. A timber wolf, a creature native to the temperate and arctic regions of the world, the continent of Durol, here in central Susma, across the Sea of Sails on this continent, this Gavis-Lune. It was a wild choice. Vondiras had tried to leave her behind after nursing her through that winter, especially once he'd decided to throw his fate to the seas and the wind. He had tried, yet she had insisted. He was her pack now, that was the sort of bond they shared, and as she'd gotten bigger, she'd proven it time and again. They'd been in more than one scrap in the last two months, working as mercenaries, mostly doing pest removal for the surrounding villages and their leshe cacti fields.

 

      Silvius had grown up fast, and Vondiras did suspect there was something...unique about their bond. She'd reached adult size and physique a bit faster than she should have, and often showed a level of....surprisingly human understanding or behaviors, able to find ways to emote that could be understand even across the species barrier. She seemed to not just understand the tone of his words, but his words themselves as well, to a degree that was uncanny to say the least. Such a thing was not unheard of though, though such bonds were rare, it was known that sometimes a special bond might form between a hunter and an infant animal, even a top predator. The odds of such a bond, such a blessing from Boran the Bloodhound, went way up if the hunter nursed such an infant back to health. These unique bonds were said to bestow blessings upon the beast in question, as well as the sapient. The beast might live longer, reach adult size and strength slightly sooner, and show signs of a heightened intellect. For the part of the sapient, the friendship, loyalty and fierce protection from the creature were the most notable benefits. Wolves and other canines were, perhaps unsurprisingly, the most common sorts of animal to form these unique bonds, however Vondiras had heard of felines, even large hunting cats, and even creatures like bears or other such animals forming these bonds.

 

      Deep in his thoughts though he was, Vondiras was jarred out of them by the playful growl and light nip of his earlobe, followed by a sloppy kiss right up his cheek and around to his nostril. He huffed shaking his head as he shot up like a cannon "Yes I'm up, Silvius, I'm up. So little patience, hold for a moment and we will head over to the commons and find something to break our fast!" he promised, wiping his face on the hem of his cloak he had been using as a blanket. Silvius yipped twice, clearly excited, as she rose to all fours, her tail wagging and nose high, sniffing the air.

 

      Vondiras rose, knowing he smelled of straw, sand, and things that most might find less pleasant, though he had no such things on him. He was in a stable after all. However the elf's stomach led him as he moved to the small tack room where he'd hung both his and Silvius's other gear, having stripped her of her gambeson and mail blanket and himself down to his smallclothes. Thankfully, Alum'han, night hand for the stables had been so kind as to honor his request from the evening before, leaving him some Dothri leaves, ground up, with some mango and honey infused water all mixed together, as well as a few rags to scrub himself down with. He swiftly, but efficiently did so, also dabbing a little of the scented concoction behind Silvius' ears, despite her nips and snarls of protest. "We smell like a barn, you know we'll never hear the end of it from Beliana at the very least if we come to breakfast smelling of sweat, straw and camel droppings!" he berated her. "I for one do not relish another fifteen minute tongue lashing from her on that matter, do you?"

 

      Silvius whined once, still baring her teeth, but relented, allowing him to continue. Once this was done, Vondiras eyed her blanket and his armor deciding against them both. This office and the stable also acted as his personal quarters and he had been gifted a small armoire, tall and thin with but a few shelves, however it had a lock. Here he kept personal possessions and the like, and so he locked his own tunic of mail and hardened gambeson within it, choosing instead to simply wear thinner plain clothes. A thin shirt of soft blue fabric, with a sleeved tunic of black silk buttoned partway up over top. Trousers of similarly thin material, flowy, light, but fully covering his legs, a soft grey fabric. Normally he'd have thicker padded greaves he'd also wear but these two he went without. His moccasins of doeskin, much repaired but still functional, the only item of clothing from his time in Durol that still survived. Dressed, he locked his spear, along with his hunting bow and arrows in the cabinet as well, armed with a sling, a small pouch of rocks and a hunting knife. He was in a city, after all, so he could not legally carry such full sized weaponry around. All this done, Vondiras looked down to Silvius, the wolf clearly eager to go and find food. "Alright come then, let us head over to the commons, I'm starving." He told her. He had to take off at a run, as the eager wolf yipped once and was off like a shot from his bow.

      

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      The palm dummy splintered under an assault of fists, kicks, elbows and knees as the titan-blood woman went through a variety of strikes, forms and combinations, wholly focused, her facial expression a strange mixture of pain and relief. Such was the morning ritual of Belle Gull, fist-fighting with some of her personal demons. The tantur woman, a true titan, towering over 8 feet in height, moved through another combination with the fencing dummy, seeming unbothered from striking the solid palm wood with her flesh and bone. A swift left hook, her right arm blocking the wooden peg meant for avoidance training, though she merely pinned it, using her raw strength to lift the dummy off the rotational base it was attached to. Her knee came up, striking what would have been gut or groin level, cracking some of the wood further, as her left hand came up, grasping the post up where the throat would have been, as she shifted her right hand to grip further up the peg, where in her mind a wrist or forearm would have been. Lifting the dummy clear, she pivoted, slamming it down onto the cobblestone floor on what would have been its skull, splintering the top of the target brutally. She let out a sigh, releasing her tension and closing the door on the dark memories of her past affiliations and the memories of a dead friend, as she began wrapping the soft cream colored linens she normally wore over her forearms, covering the slashed and scarred brand on her left forearm. It was another part of her past she could not fully remove but could at least move on from.

 

      She then moved to where she'd left her soft brown and blue button up vest. It was a deep oak color, with silver buttons and sky blue trim, and she put it back on over her simple sandy sleeveless tunic, buttoning it up, but leaving the top two unbuttoned for comfort. Her knuckles and feet showed all the signs of a fist-fighter, for that was what she was, a brawler of sorts. A brawler turned mercenary, a most unusual trait. She moved her head from one side to the other, tossing a bit of her mossy green hair out of her face. Her face was scarred, her nose kinked to the left and splayed a little bit, having obviously been broken but never set properly. She had a friendly smile, though two of her teeth were obviously fake, silver, and another two or three were crooked or out of line, obviously from punches to the face. Her face showed many scars, lips, above her eyes, cheeks and jaw, clearly showing her willingness to fight. Her arms and hands were equally as scarred as well.

 

      Belle moved to the back corner of the training room, seeing a couple other of her fellow Sickles coming down for their morning routines. She was often the earliest riser, up even before the sun, but such was her nature. She always preferred to get her workout in whilst the cool of the night was still lingering, but fading, increasing the tempo of her activities with the rising temperature. She hadn't toweled all the way off, clearly somewhat unconcerned, but she did do so with her face and forearms, as well as under her arms, using the mango and honey infused water the guild provided, dabbing some around her neck and under her arms, more as a courtesy for those she would be breaking her fast with than anything else. Once this was done, she took a seat on one of the benches, and let her mind wander back a little, just a bit, letting herself process but a memory or two of her past with post workout and fight clarity, the time she felt most able to deal with such things.

 

      She remembered the day Giselle had come to her, clearly worried about something. Giselle had explained to her that their boss at the time, Robert Timbers, had ordered her to throw her next fight. If she did, he claimed she'd be rich. The only problem was, Giselle knew her next opponent, a man known as Anders the Hammer, was well known for crippling his opposition before letting them fall for the count when in the sand circle. She did not know how she could throw the fight safely, and didn't trust Timbers to mean 'never have a worry for the rest of your life' rich, especially since Giselle had a toddler to care for, a gift from her prostitution days, who's father she didn't know. Belle white knuckled a bit, fighting back tears as she fought with the memory. She'd told Giselle to simply win the fight, knowing she was more than capable, given he knew her secret. Giselle had been born with the touch, having a talent for inflicting brain fog, confusion and crippling indecision upon people. Anders was big, a tantur like her, whereas Giselle was but a human woman in her late thirties. But though Anders was big, tough and strong, he was not fast, nor was he known as a man of great discipline or mental fortitude, relying much less on training and skill and more on the sheer bulk and natural strength to break opponents. To this day Belle believed it was why Timbers had never been willing to let her fight the man. Deep down Timbers knew she'd have cleaned the sand circle with him.

 

      Belle had given that advice from a position of privilege, a lesson she learned the hard way. For she had refused to throw fights in the past, and though Timbers had been angry, he'd never done much to her, besides with-hold part of the purse, or maybe order her to submit to a few lashes across her back, scars she bore proudly. She didn't always refuse of course, but a few times he'd asked her to throw fights against opponents where the margins for betting were small, the difference in profit small, the fighters seen as equals, and she simply could not. She was a competitor, despite her ties at the time to the Blood Oak Syndicate, the criminal group in the city of Venix she'd grown up running with. She had tossed all three of her fights against really lesser opponents, selling them convincingly, at different times to simply help insure better moneymaking odds for a big bout she would have a week or two later. However her status as the top of the pile, the money-maker, the quasi untouchable crown jewel of Timbers 'sponsored' fighters, well it had hidden potential consequences from her. She hadn't understood the possible outcomes of the advice she gave....

 

      Not until she was left holding her best friend's broken and ravaged body. She still did not know why Giselle winning that fight, after five turns of the glass and a brutal back and forth, bothered him so. As far as she had heard the purses that cleared from that fight were substantial, and Timbers' bookies had made a great deal of coin off all those who'd bet on Anders, a reasonable bet to be sure, if you didn't know about Giselle's unique abilities. Yet furious he had been, so much so that he'd had three of his enforcers tie her up, break both her ankles and wrists, and then beat her to death. According to the first of them Belle had killed, Timbers had ordered them "To beat her like a pinata. I want sweetmeats to pop out of the fat bitch." 

 

      Belle allowed herself a few silent tears, as she processed the image of her friend's broken and battered body. They'd hit her everywhere, likely even after she'd lost consciousness. Her own child would not have recognized her, though they'd slit his throat too, much to Belle's horror and disgust. It took Belle a few moments to collect herself, as she sat with that image, the two bodies, and the abject horror of it, breathing deeply, focusing, coming to terms with it all. She had a lot of working through to still do, even though it had been months since she'd left Venix and her home country of Kang-Chorath and ended up in northern Susma, more than a thousand miles away. But every day she was healing a little more, every day she was working through the memories and the sorrow a little more.

 

       After a few minutes of focusing, processing, she let the memory fade, bringing her focus back to her present, feeling her stomach grumbling. She rose quietly, moving to the southern side of the training hall, out the door and into the sun, making for the largest of the four buildings, the Commons, to join some of her fellow Sickles in breaking their fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Kneeling in the sandy soil of the compound's garden, in front of a simple shrine of wood and iron depicting the sun shining over a flight of pegasi, Beliana felt the first warming rays of the coming dawn, and as the last chills of the night were vanquished, her smile grew. As the rays began to touch and kiss her naked form, all along her caramel skin, her dark charcoal hair, she began to pray. "As dawn chases the night, so to does it chase the dredges of sleep. I pray, mother of wisdom, goddess of fire, I pray for guidance this day. As the sun illuminates the world, allow it to illuminate my mind and let the wisdom of its light bless me to confront the challenges of the day. May it forever keep me warm, may its light keep back the shadows, as we will stand, your embodiment, against the darkness beyond night. Illumis"

 

      Beliana felt the warmth all across her body, drinking it in for a few more moments, as she felt her goddess' presence in that heat, in that light. As a Sun-Caller, a proper priestess of Vosana Falconhand's faith, it was no mere illusion or mere mental comfort to her. She felt divinity within, sparks of it dancing through her skin and into her, gifts of power, her faith a tangible and gifted thing. Once she was satisfied, feeling something intangible, but kind of a silent permission to rise, the woman did so, her naked form drawing the eyes of more than a few of her fellows whom were also early risers. However respectfully, though some looked, which did not bother her, they kept their distance and held their tongues, showing her respect for her beliefs. She smiled a little at that notion, having a small laugh to herself as she considered what her fellow acolytes from her home village might have thought of such a notion. Some of them had been so stuck up, especially Catherine, and they'd always insisted on such enclosed private chambers for morning prayer, as they were ashamed of their forms. Beliana refused such notions, even now taking up her halberd and going through some basic forms and movements nude, loosening up her body from kneeling as she had for an hour.

 

      After a few minutes of this, feeling looser, more relaxed, she took her halberd up over her shoulders, and made her way unabashedly across the compound, paying no extra mind to anyone's reactions or sudden stares, greeting her fellow guildmates with a soft smile and well wished morning. Once in the barracks, she moved through some of the common spaces, ascending to her chambers on the third floor. She opened the door, leaving it ajar, comfortable that none would follow. The Sickles were a mercenary guild, professional warriors, explorers, and killers, yet this very nature resulted in the understanding that the locks on private quarters were made of common sense. Everyone had allies and companions amongst the guild, other guild-mates whom would side with them in a conflict, and the guild had very clear rules about transgressions such as breach of privacy, or more serious offenses, giving the offended rights as extreme as killing their offender. As such, it might be a nest of snakes to some, but to Beliana, a known priestess of the goddess of tactics and fire, it was perhaps the most respecting place she'd ever lived to practice her faith.

 

      Thinking about that, as she moved to lather down the sweat of her morning with some Kalis flower and oats, refusing to use a precious resource like water to clean herself amidst the dry season, brought Beliana's memory briefly back to her home. She was not originally of Susma, and in fact was from Valewyr, having grown up not far from the nation's capital of Valewood in a modest town known as Halenfel. She'd joined the church quite young first as a student and then as an acolyte, having no wish to follow in her mother or father's footsteps as a seamstress or a banker respectfully. By the youthful age of fourteen, she had earned her solis, the priestess's traditional dress like garb of the church, and by nineteen she was fully recognized as a Sun-caller, free to pilgrimage or move between churches until she found one she wished to settle in and take up position amongst the clergy anywhere across Valewyr, or even beyond in those places where there were temples to Vosana beyond Valewyr's borders.

 

      Pulling on thin silk weave leggings of a bronzish hue, she then slipped on a simple red and yellow dress, low cut, with a slit down one side of the skirt. Her armored tunic and longer armored skirt she simply left stored away, as she locked her halberd with them in her closet. She slipped her holy symbol, a silver chain with a golden pendant done to look like the rising sun, over her head and onto her neck, so the symbol rested just below the dress's cut, centered between her breasts, so she could feel the warmth in her chest. Moving to a looking glass, she insured the dress sat well, and that her iconography, the golden sunburst on the front and the pegasus in full flight on the back in silver, were as unwrinkled as possible. Looking in the mirror it struck her for a moment then, as she stared back at a woman whom would not see her mother again.

 

      The loss of her mother but two years ago had changed Beliana's life. Only twenty at the time, it had broken her, had made living in that region a great difficulty, one her father had understood, even if her two siblings had not. With his blessing, she had taken to the road, seeking solace in pilgrimage and travel, trying to come to grips with the loss. Her mother had been only thirty and nine years old, still young, when a sudden and unexpected bout of illness took her. Sanguis Cough, it had been called, and no treatments had helped. She'd deteriorated swiftly, lasting only four days and three nights. Even now it did hurt Beliana's heart that her mother was no more. She felt the sorrow coming, felt tears trying to come, but she had no more tears left for it anymore. Her mind continued down that road of memories, following it to happier times to come, first to a moment not long after the loss of her mother, only three months later, then to a moment six months after that. Finally, as she saw movement on the bed in the mirror behind her, her mind wandered to a moment exactly one year ago as of yesterday, as a happy and mischevious smile came to her lips...... 

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      The dwarf moved with pace through the misty forested highlands, knowing his quarry could not be that far ahead of him. They'd clearly caught sight or scent of something however, and as close as they were now to a road, Coris had a good guess as to what it might be. There were but four of the fell creatures, but four Ungals, the powerful antler headed bestials, humanoids with the legs of a stag and the headgear to match, vicious and cannibalistic, were more than a match for most.

 

      He'd been stalking this bunch through this area of central Valewyr for a few weeks, having skirmished with some of them three times now, killing another four of their kin in those encounters. His last skirmish he'd felled only one, but had driven them off a merchant, whom had been quite grateful and had welcomed Coris into his camp. That had been four days ago, and the fell creatures had almost fooled him, he thought he'd lost them for sure. However but yesterday he'd come upon them, camped in a small glen, roasting the corpse of someone, a ranger or hunter from a nearby village perhaps. Though his battle fury had longed to attack then and there, he was also a former soldier, and knew even with his fury he could not fight four of them at once and live to tell about it. So he watched and waited, sleeping fitfully in tree branches downwind from the camp, watching them. When they were breaking camp, he climbed down, getting in position to follow and track them during the day, hoping for an opportunity to pick off one or two of them.

 

      That had all been going according to plan, though the beasts were careful and that first day no opportunity presented itself. This morning however, they'd broken camp before dawn, clearly excited, having caught scent of something on the breeze. Coris had barely roused himself in time to follow and keep close enough to at least hear them. That had been but an hour ago. Now however, he heard them around him, but was unable to see them, as they moved down a rise, towards a small clearing. The dwarf risked getting closer, trying to see what might be holding their attention and trying to locate the beasts amongst the misty dawn of the cloud forest. What he saw shocked him. There, kneeling in the dirt and amongst the soil and foliage, facing east, naked, was a young human woman. She seemed in meditation or prayer, oblivious to the danger, and perked up as the sun's rays began to wash over her. Coris shrugged off the straps that held his claymore over his shoulder, bringing the monstrous weapon, a blade a bit taller than his dwarven self from handle to tip, and pulled it loose of its sheath, pitching the sheath and straps to his left for now. He moved closer, trying to get the woman's attention, noting a halberd laying atop some armor and clothing to her left. 

 

      The time for stealth ended however, as he heard rustling in the brush to his left and right, and saw movement across the glen, not far from the woman, coming out of the trees. "Lassie, whatever yer doin', wrap it up an' get ta yer blade! Beastmen!!" he called out, as he rushed forward, breaking cover at the same time as the Ungals to his right and left, roaring his own battle mantra, flying into his battle fury, "Blood an' Steel!!!!" he snarled, throwing himself towards the closest bestial......as the world around him started to fade......

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

      "Coris, my love, Coris awaken yourself. The sun has risen, its time to head to the commons and break our fast." came the voice that brought him from coming awake tense and ready for war to relaxed and smiling. The dwarf blinked away the sleep, feeling the warmth of his wife's lips upon his and as his vision cleared there she was, the vision of beauty, his sun. Her hair, a smoky charcoal, once again pinned back with two hawk feathers tight to her head, framing the angles of her face beautifully. Close enough to his he could see the light freckles amongst her caramel skin, and the orange embers, the flecks that he could only define as marks of her goddess, hiding within her hazel eyes.

 

     He reached up with a scarred and heavily tattooed forearm, weaving his fingers into the tight twist of hair where her cut-tail ended, down by the nape of her neck, and up, applying but a little bit of muscle and tension, as he guided her back down to his face, kissing her deeply, tasting the passion of the morning on her lips. He held her there for a few moments, wrapping his other arm around her back, pulling her tight, feeling her body, her form, feeling her temperature rise, before releasing her, grinning through his thick coppery beard, which was already braided, something she'd surely note. "Ach, now then me darlin' wife, thats how ye kiss us awake properly. Tis mornin' already, I guess that's what we get for staying up half the night nae, isn't it? he inquired with a mischevious smile, remembering the very busy and passionate night they'd had, celebrating one year of marriage. Certainly the bed linens would not forget that night, he was sure, and the cleaning staff would speak of what they were to find, of that he had no doubt. 

 

     She smiled, leaning in and whispering in his ear in dwarven, but with her accent, creating a heat and fire in the tempo of the words that the dwarven language normally would not have, as she reminded him in more intimate detail of a point or two about the night before that she had particularly enjoyed, before pushing herself free of his grasp, showing the strength in her lithe and athletic form that also so attracted Coris. Beliana fixed her dress, covering her chest once more, which had 'conveniently' come free in the moment for his eyes, a sight he did not mind at all, and with a mischievous smirk still playing on her lips. Coris stared for a moment, marveling at her beauty, as the sun danced off her form through their window. She was over a foot taller than he was when standing, unsurprising given he was a dwarf and she a human, likely around five and half feet tall if one had to guess. Her face had the more pointed and angular features of Mogol heritage, her hazel eyes angled and of that same shape, less round and level set than Koltani or Renarii blooded humans. She almost seemed as if a sculpture to him.

 

     She was athletic, shapely, with strong legs, wonderful curves and perfect breasts, that felt wonderful when he had his hands upon them when making love. She was sweet, kind, and had a soft heart, but had iron in her soul and body as well, knowing her way around both halberd and bow. Coris marveled at her shaking his head and chuckling, "Me darlin' wife, 'ow the blazes did this old soldier land a vision like yerself, a question I asks meself daily. I must be the luckiest man o' any race on Valerick." he told her as he rose, allowing the blankets to fall, revealing himself, standing and at attention for her in all his glory, as he got out of bed to rise, stretching.

 

     Beliana eyed him up and down, admiring his body, whilst chuckling at his words. Coris was to a dwarf more or less what she was to a human at twenty-two years of age. He was to be a hundred and twenty-five at the end of Agun, so in a month and a half, and given dwarves lived well into their fourth century and could even live into their fifth, that basically meant he was seen by his own kind as she was by hers. A young upstart adult, likely full of attitude and not really knowing their way around the world yet, or what they really wanted. It was a funny thing, how despite the difference in years, culturally all that seemed to matter was the percentage of the expected life lived, not the actual number of years. Yet as soon as you spoke of relations between two such individuals, all of a sudden the years meant more to most people, not the percentage. 

 

      Beliana did not care for such double standards of course, and was utterly in love with and attracted to her husband. Coris was built tough as mountain stone, and tall for a dwarf, a little over four feet in height. He was thick, muscular, strong as an ox, easily outweighing her by forty or fifty pounds. She always marveled at the network of tattoos that criss-crossed his body, blending with many scars from a life soldiering, an entire forty year commission he'd lived before ever meeting her in his homeland of Suranth. The tattoos were in silver and deep blue and green, done in woad inks, depicting all manner of symbols, runes and other spiritual things, as well as important moments and times and people from his military years. The centerpiece was on his chest and stomach, a bit of a humorous story, a blue and green dragon, with powder kegs of silver, but the dragon was depicted in such as to have its mouth open and have breath of fire unleashing from its jaws....down towards his manhood, a joke she often poked fun at. It had been part of his hazing in his early years joining a scouting unit that called themselves the Woad Wings, that to hear him tell it, patrolled the forests of a region known as the Norwood Basin on the border with Depenwood often. 

 

      Beliana was well educated and had a pretty good knowledge of world geography, so she knew of many locations he told her stories about. She kept her eyes on him, enjoying the sight of him as he rose to stand, debating with herself but for a moment. His deep cobalt eyes, the thick, well kept rust toned beard, in three loose war braids, tied with but hempen rope. Even his splayed and crooked nose, and the vicious white scar running up his cheek from his jaw to where his right ear used to be, she found attractive and sensual. His hair, down to the center of his back, but straight, thick and comforting. It was all so inviting....

 

      She turned her gaze down to his cock, still standing, taunting her, and she felt her mood rising a little. Breakfast was soon, however they could be a little late surely. As he rose and stretched, before he could fully react, Beliana pushed him back into bed, and had him in her mouth, feeling him throbbing as she teased with her tongue and lips. She pushed her head down, feeling him slide down her throat. "Ach, nae, what ye doing, me love, I thought we had ta get down for breakfast!?" he asked her, though the words were a struggle for him to get out through the moans of pleasure.

 

      She stopped, slowly, tantalizing removing him from her mouth, and flashed him a pouty expression. "Are you telling me to stop, lover?" she asked him in a low moan, one of her hands having slipped down between her own thighs.

 

      Coris stared for a moment, then laughed, shaking his head. "Nary a chance, goddess, I knows better than that. But nary think yer gettin' out o' this room without me returnin' the favor at the very least!"

 

 

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      Shorter than the night before, but no less pleasing, the couple were soon enough rising from the bed, doing their best to tidy themselves up, and dressing themselves, though they kept stealing many a glance, touch and kiss from each other. This passion didn't fade once they were out where others could see, though it did shift in form, as they walked with an arm each entwined in each others, simply talking back and forth, laughing and joking. Thus was how they arrived, coming into the commons and moving by some of the eight tables in the common area, nodding and greeting various staff and various fellow guild members, as they wove their way to the table they could see that their two friends had already claimed and taken a seat at. As they approached, Belle's voice range across the mess "Well then, ye two decided each other wasn't enough for breakfast did you?" laughing as she spoke. "Surprising, but come, we saved your seats."

 

      The pair took a seat, greeting their friends, Beliana having a laugh as she got nuzzled upon by Silvius, giving the wolf scratches behind the ear and kisses on the snout. Coris took stock of his two friends for a moment, reading their body language. Vondiras was calm, relaxed, which was good to see, the lithe elf's dark grey eyes attentive and focused. Clearly he was well over his bout of heat stroke from two days previous, which was good. He had his raven hair loose, but had his tell tale triple braiding done on his right side, they all pinned over his ear and shoulder with a simply clip to the thicker hair at the back of his head, to keep his hair from his right eye and out of the way of his bowstring, since he drew back with his right hand. He had color to his skin again, as much as his light grey pallor ever did have color, given he was an elf of the Scavi-il, one of the various tribes of Shadow amongst the Woad Elf clans. "Ye looking a lot better today Von." Coris remarked, taking the elf's offered hand and gripping it wrist to wrist. "Glad ta see that."

 

       Vondiras graced him with a small smile, showing teeth. "Yes, thankfully the heat sick has passed. Learning a hard lesson about the dry season and the importance of water, next time I shall plan ahead for a hunting excursion into the savannahs north of the city more carefully."

 

       Coris chuckled, nodding his agreement with that assessment, as he turned his eyes to Belle Gull. The stone giant tantur was even taller than Vondiras, whom despite his lithe and nearly ghost like figure, was quite tall, well over seven feet in fact. The elf only weighed a little over two hundred pounds, not even quite as much as Coris, and only a little more than Beliana. However, he was very much the ghost of the group, perhaps unsurprisingly so, given he was a skilled hunter, favoring stealth and archery. Belle by contrast, was a monster of a woman, nearing nine feet tall, and built as solid as her stone joten blood would suggest. Rippling muscle, raw force and power, and much like Coris, she bore scars of combat, particularly on her face, forearms and hands, though unlike himself, he knew hers was more fighting for coin and in a sand circle in some fashion, not military service.

 

       She easily weighed double what Coris did, but was also the one who currently at the table was the most ready for a fight, for she never carried a weapon or wore armor, using her own raw power and ferocity and her body as a weapon. Coris didn't understand the finer points of it, but she called it Vitae, and oft compared it to the thing inside him, this ability to push beyond his own limits of his strength and endurance, though he needed to tap into his anger and fury to do it, where as she seemed merely to need to focus. She was a skilled warrior though, Coris had sparred with her many times, and had ended up flat on his ass more than once. She seemed in a good mood, her leaf green eyes alight and alive, a smile playing on her face. "Ye seem in high spirits this morning Belle, that's good lass."

 

       Belle took his offered arm, a tight warrior's grip, forearm to forearm. "Aye well, its good to see Von here in better shape, and also I overheard Isabella and Guild-master Daveed speaking earlier this morning as I came up from my morning workouts to make my way here. By the sounds of it we had about half a dozen new contracts come into the guild's hands over the evening and night. Hoping we can find a job worth taking."

 

      Beliana chuckled, rising from giving Silvius some love and attention, a wide smile on her face as some of the kitchen staff came out with some plates of lesh bread, preserved mangos and pika berries as well as many stone plates of still sizzling ox sausage and some fresh goat cheese. Water and ale were brought around and poured. For Silvius, one of the cooking staff brought out a hunk of fresh and raw oxen flank, about five pounds worth, attached to the cracked hip bone, as well as what was likely a kidney, part of the heart, the liver, and a lung. In total it was likely around near ten pounds and Silvius yipped excitedly, wasting no time digging in when the platter was set on the floor. Beliana motioned towards the wolf, clearly noting her example, as she replied, "I'm sure there will be, but for the moment, let us take Silvius' excellent advice, and eat. I'm famished."

 

       The group enjoyed a fine and hearty meal, laughing, joking, making small talk and chatting with other guild members who came and went. About a half an hour later, there was a loud ringing, a bell, and slowly the mess went quiet. At the south side of the commons area, Guild-master Daveed, a tall and thin man of Renarii heritage came into view. Adorned in reds, blues and golds, a colorful mix of silks and linens, with a breastplate of mithrium adorning him, and two shamshirs, one at each hip, sheathed. Though he was a reed of a man, Coris always admired the man's voice, for it had power beyond his form. "Good morrow to you, brothers and sisters, the Sickles of Susma. We have a little business to cover this Lunai, before you all get about your business. It pleases me to see some of you visiting the guild halls again after some time away, and I will remind you all, that for those of us with the mark, any of our five branches across Susma will always have bed and board for you. You are one of the tribe, you need never be without. Now to business, first off, an exciting announcement meant to embarrass and amuse a little, but done out of love. If you see Coris Barazbarak and Beliana Naimeth this fine day, do not forget to wish them the happiest of anniversaries!! They are celebrating one year of wedded bliss today. We have yet to solve the riddle of how one who looks like an avalanche and a trampled corpse had a baby like Coris landed such a beauty like Beliana, but perhaps that shall be one of the world's unanswerable mysteries!"

 

       The hall erupted in laughter and cheers, as Coris rose, ale in hand, roaring out "Ach, I may be an ugly bastard, but must be a damn sight better in bed than you lot, tis the only guess I 'ave!" laughing as he did. "Thank ye all, we appreciate yer well wishes, and yer fucked up humor, ye buncha layabouts and brigands!" This elicited an even louder cheer, and it took a moment for Daveed to restore order.

 

       "With that happy news aside, professional news of an equally happy sort. As you all know, we have five compounds in various cities across Susma, each in a different principality. One in Tiate, the capital of our Kingdom of kingdoms that we call home, and the other four in Navia, Port Salis, Arika'van and of course here in our beloved Kalesh. As you might know those other four are quite some distance away, with the closest being Port Salis near five hundred miles of hard journey west and south in Salim. Well soon that shall be no longer the case! We received the news yesterday that the guild has been approved to open another compound in Osinin, but some two hundred miles from hear, in Osininum! We have needed a stronger presence in north and west Susma for some time now, and we shall have it by as early as a year from now, and of course this means should a contract take you afield in that direction, you need not trek all the way back here to collect any longer, you will be able to collect there as well!" This announcement was met with further cheers, and shouts of agreement.

 

      "About fucking time too." Beliana called out, eliciting other calls of agreement and cheers.

 

       Once he had the room again Daveed chuckled, agreeing. "Yes it is well past due. Finally, of course, we have outstanding contracts. I won't go over old ones that are still open, you all know how to go take on those if you wish, simply seek out Marta or Amerylis and they will get it all set up. However we have three new ones that have come in today that are open to claim, with another three that are not finalized yet but will likely go up tomorrow or Middas. The first is a contract for some pest removal out in Lems, the farming community east of here, a village some of you should know well, given your taste for their distilleries vintages! Seems a few antlions have wandered into their fields and though they've managed to contain the damage to but two fields and farms thus far, the whole community came together quickly enough, they wish these pests dealt with and chased off or killed. For this they've scraped together a bounty of five hundred suns, of which the guild naturally takes twenty percent as your aware, leaving four hundred gold suns for those whom complete the contract to split between them."

 

       Vondiras leaned in to talk to his friends. "Lems is only twenty-five or so miles east of here. We could make it today if we really wanted to, spend the night, find the creatures the next day, and come home the day after that. Would not be a difficult or expensive job. I've got enough rations for something that short too from my last hunting excursion, antelope jerky, preserved pika berries and some rich oat tack bread with banana and preserved almonds I made but yesterday. So it would be a cheap excursion."

      Coris eyed Belle and his wife, whom both nodded their consent. "Aye, alright Von, rise and take it lad." 

 

      Von did as he was bid, and Daveed saw him. "Ah, Vondiras, its good to see you looking better. So yourself and your friends, the Stone-Sun Companions, wish to take the contract?"

 

       "We do." Vondiras replied, his voice both loud, yet in that odd way, eerily reminiscent of the wind rustling through the leaves of a thick forest, something that was unavoidable to note about his voice whenever he tried to speak loudly.

 

       "Very well!!" Daveed replied, with a wide smile. "Marta here will come join you for a moment, and go over the details of the contract with you, as well as giving you the writ and filling out the necessary bits of paperwork for your eventual compensation." He nodded to a short, shrewish halfling woman, whom strolled over to their table, placing documents and an inkpen down upon it as she took a seat with them, as Daveed continued on announcing the two other new contracts.

 

       It did not take very long to go over the details of the job, and within the hour the four friends were briefed, paperwork finished. They were armed, packed and heading through the city towards the eastern most gate of the city, aptly named the Dawn Gate.

 

      As they took to the roads in the Commons, the sights, sounds and scents of Kalesh washed over the four companions in the morning light. Though it was still yet early, the sun was fully risen now, bathing the entire city in its swiftly warming light. People dressed in garish garb and colors of a wide variety moved in every which direction, though the traffic was much less intense than it would be in but a few weeks. Kalesh was a traderoads city after all, and so though busy, it wasn't uncomfortably so. Beliana smiled kindly, nodding to people she recognized as they passed them, occasionally checking that her left forearm was revealed, that the brand of the Sickles, a crescent blade in a sunburst, was visible. All four of them had this brand, which was part and parcel of how they could travel through the city so heavily armed, so long as they were making straight for an exit, or were on official Sickles business or on a contract. This marking along with the paperwork would be what they'd present if accosted by law enforcement, though the brands themselves being visible were often enough to avoid any direct interaction with the Kalesh Constabulary in many cases.

 

      However it was unsurprising to Beliana when two halfmen, armed with rifles and shamshirs, bearing breastplates with the mark of the constabulary, were soon watching them, having seemed to clock something about them. Soon enough they met up with another member of the force, this one a human, and in the tell tale orange and silver uniforms, they marched up, intercepting the group at the edge of the commons district, merely a few dozen feet from the Dawn Gate. One of the halfmen, clearly the senior officer of the bunch gruffly greeted them. "Good morrow to you all, you are a bit heavily armed and armored for a morning stroll. Where are you headed and what business do you have with all this?" He asked, gesturing broadly, though Beliana knew the question was mostly in regards to the halberd she walked with currently that she was using as a walking staff, as well as Corim's large blade, and likely Vondiras' spear. Though the trio also did note both her and Von's bows as well, currently lashed to one side of the guild camel they had been provided as a pack animal for the job. Vondiras was leading the camel, Silvius wisely keeping her distance, loping alongside Corim and Belle. 

 

      Belle could see the other halfling officer was leering at them all, or in her case her bicep, where she bore the scar of a unique brand beneath the mark of the Sickles, a simple 'X'. Vondiras bore a similar brand on his forearm just above the mark of the Sickles as well, something this second officer had noted and was clearly considering. He was sneering at mark, and both he and the human were having a whispered conversation in Halish, the halfling tongue. Belle was still learning her way around the language, but could tell from their facial expressions and their body language as well as the bits she could make out that they were discussing the nature of that brand. The simple 'X' shape denoted someone who was an indentured servant. This was a unique feature of Susma as a culture, a path to citizenship and certain increased benefits and social mobility that would come with it for outsiders.

 

      Conceptually, such people volunteered to serve a master, someone of wealth, station, and ability whom would teach them the basics of Susman culture, tradition, law and day to day life, whilst also teaching them a trade or skill, or sometimes multiple, and the Halish language. They would also provide housing, sustenance and care. In return the servant would work, generally much in the manner of an assistant or apprentice, but would also perhaps help with tasks around the home, and other such things. This servitude would last five years, at the end of which the servant would be tested for competence, linguistics and general understanding of Susman law and customs. The servant's testing would have no bear on their next steps, but would have a very direct fiscal effect on the 'master' as they would either be reimbursed some portion, or indeed a large portion of coin for the service they had provided, or should their charge do poorly, they would be fined. Masters could be jailed for abuses as well, though this was rare, and likely much rarer than it should be. However once the five years was complete, servants would then have a sunburst brand overlayed onto the 'X' shape and be officially recognized as what was culturally known as 'earned citizens'. The difference in treatment between these two types of marking were night and day in Belle's experience, having seen it first hand. Marked with the 'X' you were subject to extreme laws. Curfews, a complete ban 'officially' on imbibement of almost any kind, you weren't officially allowed to hold coin or own property, and most certainly you could not wander Kalesh or most anywhere armed. In fact owning a weapon was punishable by up to fifty lashes and two years of hard labor in quarries north of the city some distance.

 

      Those who earned their sunburst would then normally go on to serve two years of military service, as all citizens of Susma were required to by law. However there was a noted exception to some of these rules. The exception was official for some aspects, such as the military service, and unofficial in most others, and that was being indentured to within the Sickles of Susma. The mercenary guild had a rather wide sweeping set of exceptions and unique sub-clauses to the legislation that governed normal indentured rules and acceptable behaviors and roles. Belle felt her temper rising, but bit it back, all her muscles tensing as she heard some of an exchange, a quite derogatory one between those two officers, speaking ill of Vondiras and clearly marking intentions of ill will and behavior. 

 

       Corim, noting Belle's tenseness, nudged her and grunted "Ach, breathe lass, we be a'right, just take a breath. Nae do nothin' hasty nae." Corim, through marriage to a priestess, lacked such a brand, able to settle and join the Sickles with Beliana when she did and skip that process through her religious exemption and thus he took a deep breath. He was not the most diplomatic of individuals, preferring a brawl to a discussion, so he followed his wife's lead.

 

      Beliana pointedly ignored the two other officers muttering amongst themselves other than clocking their body language, and the stance and posture of the other halfling, whom she guessed was new, judging as well by his face, he looked quite young. She spoke to the veteran, putting on her sweetest and most helpful smile. "How can we help you Asiri?" she inquired, using the Halish term for officer, a sign of respect.

 

     The halfling smiled back at her, clearly appreciating her professional and polite demeanor. "My name is Officer Yiris Tandergilt, though Officer Yiris is sufficient Miss. I see you are heavily armed, but noted the brands. You and the dwarf lack marks of servants, so I would presume the elf and tantur are under your care and control at this time? Do you have the appropriate paperwork from the guild to explain this assortment I see before me. As you are I'm sure well aware, an armed servant is expressly illegal, and quite a hefty offence."

 

      "I do have the appropriate documentation and the writ for the contract in question right here, officer Yiris. Also it is not Miss, if you would be so kind. I am Beliana Naimeth, and the dwarf there, Coris Barazbarak, is in fact my husband." she told him sweetly, handing him the a batch of documents from one of the saddlebags on the camel.

 

      To his credit, the halfling officer nodded his head in deference. "My apologies missus Naimeth, and I appreciate your candor. If you'll give me but a moment to read over these. Lirel, Rasmus, keep an eye on the elf if you please."

 

       The pair moved to flank Vondiras. Beliana could see the eagerness, and the ill intentions in their face, though she trusted her husband had clocked that as well. She kept her attention on Yiris, trusting that Coris was keeping a vigilante eye on the two younger officers. The moments were tense, as Yiris combed through the documents for two or three minutes, insuring everything was to his satisfaction.

 

       Once he was done, he began folding them all back up, carefully tying them together as they'd been handed to him. "Everything seems to be in order," he began to speak, though his eyes went wide, seeming in shock.

 

      At the same time there was sounds of a scuffle behind her that caused Beliana to turn as Coris' voice rang out "Ach, the blazes ye think yer doin', get off 'im yet daft fuckin' bastards!" the dwarf roared and before anyone could really realize what was happening, he had grabbed Lirel, decking him sound in the face, before tossing him aside.

 

      Beliana looked back and forth, seeing Vondiras on the ground, spear obviously no longer in hand, the reins of the camel still in grip. Silvius had leapt forward and was baring her teeth at the human, Rasmus, though thankfully the she wolf had not attacked as of yet. Coris was yelling, clearly pissed off, Belle was stepping forward, taking up a combative stance, and the halfling officer was yelling for Coris to be arrested or shot, his lips bloody, as he spit out a tooth. Vondiras was groaning, but seemingly not seriously hurt and Beliana could see the marks amongst the sand and dust on the road, it looked as if the pair of officers had simply grabbed him, wrestling him to the ground and perhaps having hit him once or twice. She felt her own passion rising, heat and anger, but wisdom prevailed and she glanced back to Yiris and at the other two officers. "What the hell are your two charges doing, officer Yiris, I demand answers. You gave no orders, why are they attempting to detain my charge!?" she snarled at him coldly, but keeping a professional respect in her voice.

 

       Rasmus had scrambled back and was leveling his rifle when Yiris' voice range out, responding immediately to Beliana and the situation that suddenly had devolved in front of him. "Enough! You will stand down!" the officer roared, his anger obvious. "I do not recall giving any fucking order to arrest or otherwise lay hands on the elf. In fact I distinctly recall my orders to keep an eye on him! Care to fucking explain yourselves, either of you!"

 

      Lirel rose from his knees spitting a bit more blood. "He went to level his spear, he was intending to assault us!"

 

      Coris growled then, his eyes boring a pure tunnel into the halflman's skull. "Ye best be honest with 'im, or that wee punch will be the least of yer problems."

 

      Yiris shook his head, moving between Coris, Lirel and Rasmus. "Sir dwarf, please step back, allow me to handle this." he asked calmly, though he was visibly shaking, his anger obvious. Then he turned to his two junior officers, his voice becoming cold, angry. "I gave you both a direct fucking order. I was watching you whilst inspecting their documents, hence the time it took me. I have explained to you before the unique nature of the Sickles and those bearing both brands. I've heard how you speak of those with the brand. I will not have such attitudes under my charge, nor any such behaviors. He did not 'level the spear at you' he shifted with the camel he was keeping under his control, the animal is anxious, and you saw fit to kick one of his knees out from under him and then have both of you jump atop him! If you cannot read such a situation, perhaps you should not be constables. The chief will be hearing of this, I assure you both. Now on your fucking feet Lirel, and wipe your damn face. Apologize to master Coris and his servant for your pathetic display, then both you back to the station double time, unless you wish not just a review from the chief but also ten lashes each for insubordination. Now move!"

 

      The pair scrambled to comply, and once they were on their way, Yiris handed back the documents, turning to Vondiras. "Are you unharmed?" he asked, his voice gruff. Vondiras nodded, and Yiris turned his gaze to Coris. "I ought to have you arrested, and you should be laying charges against those two idiots. Will you trust me to handle their discipline and dressing down, along with Chief Turmont? I am more than willing to end this incident here and now with that, and a verbal warning to yourself. All your documents are in order, you are all free to go unless we wish to pursue things further?"

 

      Coris shook his head. "Ach, nae 'arm nae foul. The elf's alright, yer lads got humbled an' chewed out, an' that Lirel lost a tooth ta remember his idiocy by. I'd say all's even."

 

      "Excellent." Yiris responded, handing Beliana the documents back. "In that case I bid you a good day and best of luck on your contract." with that Yiris took off at a brisk walk, north and west into the Commons, towards the constabulary building but three streets over, Beliana guessed.

 

      Once she placed the documents in question back into the pouch of the saddlebags she'd previously had them in, Beliana turned to her companions, and gestured towards the Dawn Gate. "Let us get on with it shall we. I wish to wash the foul taste of this moment out of our mouths, and some travel and the heat of the day will do nicely to help cleanse tenseness and memory."

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