Fable - Ask Blood on the Water

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Charon

Bringing the Pain
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Vel Luin. Nowadays it was far more fortress than city, a monument to Anirian "progress" and strength. That, of course, was not to say that it wasn't still a port city, a trade hub. And trade hubs tended to draw the attention of...undesirables.

While the primary harbor might've been extremely well guarded by the so-called 'twins' and the magic barrier between them, that wasn't the only way that goods could enter and leave the city. There were a number of minor sets of docks and subsequent warehouses that lined the shore, smaller businesses that operated outside the moderation of the Anirian government. This had become especially feasible in the year since revolution had come to Vel Anir.

All this meant one thing: smuggling. Well, smuggling and piracy, but mostly smuggling. It was hard to tell what warehouses, what ships were legitimate these days. While one might've stored legal goods one day, the next it might've been full of contraband, only to be totally empty again the day after. Ordinarily this was no business for Dreadlords. Something this mundane was the duty of the Guard to take care of, far beneath a Dreadlord's purview. However, the Academy had caught wind of the issue and had seen it as a wonderful opportunity to do a little work study.

So it was that Charon and a few others had found themselves on these very docks, set loose by Proctor Harkenov and told not to come back without a smuggler or six in tow--dead or alive. While the idea had initially excited Charon, for now he was feeling listless. Where the fuck did one even begin to look for some hidden, illegal operation? Everything in this overcast, salty shithole looked the damn same.

"...Well..." Charon muttered to Eleanor, the girl he'd been paired off with, barely audible above the din of the waves and bustle of business around him. "...any ideas?"
 
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Eleanor had been paired Charon for this particular little work study as Proctor Harkenov had called it. She was not pleased to be assigned to the group until the Proctor had said they could bring the smugglers back dead. Ella had lucked out lately with coming home from missions covered in blood and she was happy to have been chosen for this one.

Ella looked at Charon when he spoke to her. She barely knew the guy, but she knew he was completely insane according to other classmates. "Ask someone nicely?" She responded with sarcasm as she looked around the various warehouses that, indeed, looked exactly the same as the next.

Neither initiate was in uniform so it was easier to move through the streets except they couldn't just start asking questions. That was suspicious shit 101. They could investigate the outsides of the warehouses for something that looked off or start knocking nicely.

The redhead twirled one of her new throwing knifes in the air between her fingers. "I am not sure, Charon. Look for someone that looks shady?" That narrowed it down to everyone in this city really. No help there.
 
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Black, dead eyes stared back at Ella. Charon was no tracker. Well, not really. He could follow the scent of blood well enough, but that was about it. Figuring out where they were meant to dive into this mess was going to have to fall on her.
"I don't do 'nice' very well." He deadpanned back, the sarcasm lost. He yawned and scratched his head. "If you find a mole, I can make 'em talk, though..."

Oddly enough, among the shoreline rabble the boy's custom armor (or what pieces he wore of it) actually kind of blended in. There was a number of men who looked like they, too had decked themselves out in fangs and things. He wished he was fully suited up, but Harkenov had ensured the initiates participating that discretion was vital to their success.

But therein lied the problem. Everyone around here looked like they'd received that advice. There were raggedy, worn down clothes as far as the eye could see; piercings on practically every face, facial hair on practically every man; weapons lined every damn belt on the dock. In fact, the only thing that stood out wasn't a person, but...

As the two walked the dock, Charon lazily lifted a finger to point out a particular ship. Most of the ones that were moored here were pretty plain, with maybe just a few paintings or a unique figurehead to really set them apart from the others. Not this one. This one had a giant set of bat wings carved right into the bow, and a number of other designs that looked far more intricate than anything else they'd seen.
"What about that? That shady enough?"
 
Eleanor made a mental note that her sarcasm would be lost on Charon. This was going to be a long day since sarcasm was her go to for everything. At least he was good for torturing people? "I was being sarcastic, none of us do nice well...except Kristen," she grumbled the last part out. That girl needed some serious lessons in real life and maybe that would erase some of her peppiness.

Ella continued to twirl her knife as they walked and looked around the docks. Every single ship looked relatively unremarkable, which is something she would have taken advantage of if she was smuggler. When Charon pointed out the ridiculous one with giant bat wings, she narrowed her eyes. It wouldn't be her choice to host a smuggling operation, but perhaps they were confident in their ability to not get caught. A folly of many.

"Hmmmm," she mused for a moment. "It is worth checking out. It is a little loud compared to the others." She looked at Charon and smiled sweetly, "shall we?"
 
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Charon did suppose it was odd that a smuggling operation might be using a ship so markedly different from the others around here, but it definitely wasn't an Anirian vessel and the duo didn't really have much else to go on. With any luck they could at least stir up a little trouble.

He returned her glance and attempted a weak smile back at her.
"Yeah, sure. Nothing ventured, or whatever." He muttered back before trudging towards the eyesore of a ship.

As the pair approached the side, he noticed the name of the thing etched into the side: Cry Havoc. Sheesh, every part of this thing seemed a little overdone. What was the deal? The gangplank was down on the dock, but nobody seemed to be around on dock-level doing any kind of lookout duty for it. If there was anyone on deck, they weren't visible from down here.

Charon turned to look at Ella. "So...do we just go aboard, or?..."
 
The ship got even more hideous as they grew closer to it. It was absolutely terrible. Perhaps they wanted it to look so ridiculous that no one wanted to mess with it. Whatever.

Eleanor looked around the ground level where they were standing then up towards the top of the ship. It did seem quiet while the other ships were still bustling with activity.

She shrugged and looked back at Charon. "I guess..." She was usually more confident but this was a strange assignment to say the least. "Come on," her voice was more firm this time as she started towards the gangplank. It was down and unguarded so it was inviting them.

The ship swayed some causing the gangplank to move as well. The two Initiates walked up towards the deck. Ella had her eyes narrowed and her throwing knife now firmly in her hand.

 
Following her lead, Charon began the ascent up the gangplank, unbuckling his billhook from his back as he did. As the pair crested the deck they would find that it, too, was oddly empty. Not so much as a crate or barrel stood atop the gothic looking ship, though Charon was fairly certain he spotted a bilge rat skittering by. He resisted the urge to skewer it and instead made his way towards the hatch of the hold, stepping carefully as he did.

Charon may have been a psycho, but he wasn't dumb. If the two of them had accidentally stumbled into the element of surprise, he wasn't about to spoil it by stomping about on the deck like a bull.

At the hatch, Charon leaned down, setting his billhook aside so that he could get as close to the deck as possible. He pressed his ear to the hatch and listened. Waves. Creaking of the boat. Muffled voices. Theeeere we are. He rotated his head up towards Ella and pointed downwards.
"Company, down below." He informed her, just audible above the din of the docks but not so loud as to give them away.
 
Eleanor watched Charon walk carefully over to the hatch. She, herself, felt light on her feet as she stood there waiting. She kept her head on a swivel to make sure no one snuck up on them as they investigated. Charon turned and pointed down the hatch, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good," she whispered back with a smile that foretold of the death she would bring. She narrowed her eyes at the hatch and calculated their next move. They could go down and take them all out, but the problem was that they didn't know how many men were down there. Not that overwhelming odds had stopped her before.

Ella leaned down so their faces were closer than she would've like. "Do you want to go down and have some fun?" She whispered to him with that same smile on her face.
 
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"Do you want to go down and have some fun?"

Now that was the best thing Charon had heard all day. A brief flicker of mischief appeared in his eyes, and the edges of his lips upturned. With a nod, he grabbed the handle of the hatch and slowly, carefully lifted it up to let them in. Nothing beat a good surprise attack. Shock and awe added a particularly sweet element to the violence that usually followed it.

As quietly as he could, Charon dropped into the hold below. After waiting for Ella to follow suit, he'd use his billhook to lower the hatch, just in case. Once down, he signaled to where it sounded like the voices were coming from, towards the back of the ship. Among the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter, alcohol could be smelt and the faint glow of an oil lantern could be seen.

Charon did his best to contain his excitement as he peaked around a corner. Gathered around a few tables playing cards, eating, and drinking were a ragtag bunch. Heinously enough, most of them were non-humans. An orc, a few goblins, a beastfolk or two, and the most egregious: an ogre. Worst of all, by their garb and the weapons they all seemed to carry, it seemed that they might've been pirates.

The initiate looked back to Ella and whispered as quietly as he could, "What now?"
 
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Eleanor followed Charon down through the hatch and waited for him to shut it. The totally insane student looked way too excited at the prospect of killing a whole ship of people. Did that make her insane as well since she was also way too excited? It was possible.

Once both of them had assessed the situation, Charon asked her the most important question. What now? It seemed like there were seven or eight pirates and they needed to be eliminated. It certainly didn't matter to her if they were the smugglers that they were sent here for...no...pirates were just as bad.

Ella thought for a moment and then slowly drew a finger across her throat. Kill them all, she was saying to him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she opened her eyes again and smiled mischievously at Charon. She raised a brow at him and took one of her throwing knives out. Ella had also made note of the items that would make great weapons in the room with the men.
 
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A big, sharply fanged grin stretched across Charon's visage, his eyes slowly filling with that devious red color as he picked up on Ella's intentions. That awful prickling sensation began to radiate out from the young man as his excitement began to build. Charon had no reigns at the moment, no reason to hold back, but he did have eight warm bodies to remind they were alive, and a companion to share in that joy with.

"Eh? You lot feel that? Summin's funny 'round 'ere." Could be heard from one of the pirates, just around the corner. No more time to sit around waiting. If Ella wanted to go in, then Charon would be her shock troop.

"Yeah, now ya mention, feels like my skin's crawlin'. Better go 'ave a lo--" The orc had begun before being cut off. Literally. Charon had swept the blade of his billhook around the corner and lopped the pirate's hand off.

The orc began to scream. The pirates began to shout and draw their weapons. Charon began to laugh maniacally as he lunged out from behind his cover. Chaos was unfolding.
 
The smile that came over Charon's face creeped Eleanor out a little and she kinda liked it at the same time. She also felt a strange prickling on her skin at the same time one of the pirates spoke. It must be Charon's power because it wasn't hers. It felt really weird and uncomfortable but she pushed through it to send one of her throwing knives into the eye of one of the goblins. He fell back onto the table that they had all just been sitting around.

The orc had quickly lost his head thanks to Charon's billhook. Yes, this was wonderful, she thought as Charon started to laugh. He really was insane. Absolutely, truly insane. She smiled evilly and took another knife out of the pouch. Before she threw the knife, she flung her left hand out and launched the big table into the wall, squishing one of the pirates with it.

The knife that was in her hand was sent into the heart of one of the other pirates. Four down.
 
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Half the pirates were already dead or very nearly so. Charon had a level of respect and appreciation for Ella; she was both effective and efficient. Killing was her artform in much the same way that suffering was Charon's. That, at least, made them decently suited to working with each other.

She was, however, a bit too quick for Charon's liking. She understood him better than most, but Charon took much more joy in the process than the end result, much more than Ella did anyways. Perhaps she'd grow to understand better in time. The thought of having a torture buddy delighted Charon to no end. In the meantime, there were other delights to partake of.

Such as the biggest of the boisterous bunch, the ogre. What must've been 600 pounds of muscle and fat now loomed over Charon, wielding a club that would've looked massive in a normal man's hands but was easily held in one hand by the monster before him. It was impressive that the lumbering oaf had managed to fit down here in the first place; must've gotten in through the cargo hatch.

With a roar, the ogre swung his club at Charon, a powerful strike that would've splattered him all over the insides of the ship. Charon ran forward and ducked below the strike before sliding between the ogre's legs and swinging his billhook upward. The hooked backside of the polearm ripped into the ogre's soft, unprotected underside, and he shouted in pain.

Rolling to his feet at the ogre's back, Charon drove a huge, overhead swing of his billhook into the ogre, burying the thing in the ogre's shoulder. Charon's karambits were out in an instant, and he used their blades to help him climb up the ogre's back, one stab at a time.

All the while, Charon's magic began to intensify. The two beastfolk, one resembling a lizard and the other a cat of some sort, rushed to help their ogre comrade but quickly found themselves feeling everything the ogre was feeling, one debilitating laceration at a time.
 
Eleanor noticed the two beastfolk going to help their ogre friend and she was about to end them when they started to scream the same way the giant was. Her held tilted to the side and a smile crossed her lips. Fascinating, she thought as she watched Charon attack the three pirates.

Her attention was stolen as the eighth pirate behind her tried to stand back up after being knocked out. She threw a hand out and one of the discarded rapiers flew into her right hand. She turned and stabbed him in the stomach before he could do much of anything. He looked down and she twisted the sword before pulling it out. How dare he disturb her.

The static feeling prickled along her skin and through her bones as she moved closer to her partner. Ella was truly fascinated by Charon's magic and she wanted to see more. She wanted to watch these pirates suffer. She wanted to join him in making them scream. What the fuck was wrong with her?!
 
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Charon had scaled the top of the ogre's back just in time to see Eleanor put a superfluous new exit into the remaining pirate's intestines. He met her stare, red eyes and glinting teeth peered over the ogre to offer her a devious grin. How intriguing! Usually the other students moved away from Charon when he was in the midst of a performance, but Ella seemed to be drawn right in! Ohhh, perhaps there was hope for her yet!

The ogre weakly tried to reach over his shoulder to grab at the initiate. With practiced precision and malicious confidence, Charon simply drove one of his karambits into the ogres hand to pin it to his shoulder, then casually pulled himself atop his other shoulder, never breaking eye contact with Ella. The ogre cried out in pain, quickly losing all the audacity it had shown when Charon had first jumped in.

"You're very good at killing," He complimented her, bringing the other karambit up to begin slicing off the ogre's left ear. The beastfolk had dropped to their knees by now, each gripping the phantom pain wracking the sides of their heads and screaming. "But I think it's better to take your time with these sorts of things."

The ogre brought its other hand in a desperate bid to rid himself of the violent pest on his shoulder. Charon reached across his neck and ripped the other karambit free from the ogre's hand, taking fingers and a fair chunk of the hand clean off as he did. That same karambit was then promptly buried in the ogre's reaching wrist, where some nerve was severed that made the hand attached to it fall flat. The ogre's ear promptly popped off with a sickening squelch and fell to the floor with a soft thud.

More screaming from each of the three. A chorus of suffering. The reptilian, apparently deciding that it could take no more, put its sword through its own chest and fell still moments later. That just left the profusely bleeding ogre and the catlike beastfolk alive by now.
"You should REALLY give it a try some time."
 
Charon didn’t take his red eyes away from hers as he tortured the ogre. It was like he was putting on this performance just for her and he wanted her to know it. The cries of pain from the ogre made her smile. It was weirdly intoxicating and then Charon complimented her.

"You're very good at killing, but I think it's better to take your time with these sorts of things.”

Eleanor didn’t say anything and instead just continued to watch. There was no hurry for her to move. The two beastfolk were not going to be attacking either of them any time soon and the ogre would soon be dead. She could just enjoy this show that was being performed for the audience of one.

There was blood everywhere. The ship would have to be burned at this point. There was no way this room would ever be unstained now that Charon and Eleanor had visited. Perhaps they could set fire to the ship on their way out…no that might catch the other ships as well. Silly idea, she thought with a wistful smile.

Ella frowned when she saw the reptilian beastfolk drive the sword into himself. So sad…one less to torture.

"You should REALLY give it a try some time."


Charon’s words wrapped around her like a blanket and she smiled at him as she bit her bottom lip. She killed. She killed plenty. She was excellent at killing. She had never tortured someone before though. It sent very strange sensations through her to watch so she could only imagine actually doing it.

“I…” Ella paused. She felt silly saying this to the crazy man in front of her. “I do not know how to torture someone. I have just always killed. Get in and get out.” She paused again and turned her hazel eyes on the torturer. “Could you show me how?”
 
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A Cheshire grin spanned Charon's face as he drank in Ella's reactions. Her genuine intrigue in Charon's actions excited him. There was no disgust or fear or judgment on her countenance, only...curiosity...that same look that he'd known he'd shown when first he discovered his truest of callings.

Then he heard her request. His eyes flared, glowing like sinister flames in the dim light of the ship's underbelly. Yes...yes, oh yes! Someone to join in the agony! Oh gods, this called for some unorthodox actions. In one moment he flashed a look at the catwoman and simply said "Be still," and still she became, crumpling to the floor apparently unconscious. Charon was usually sickened to use that particular aspect of his power; it stood in the face of everything that he was, but in this instance he valued its utility.

In another moment, Charon slipped down and stomped on the back of the ogre's knees. The ogre immediately dropped to all fours, moaning in the throes of his suffering. Charon slid over the ogre's back towards Ella to come to a reclined pose, arm extended to offer her one of his odd daggers.
"Pain is a fascinating thing. The body is packed full of nerve endings, each one more sensitive than the last." He walked the clawed part of his armor over the ogre's back as he spoke to her. "The fun comes with...experimenting. Finding for yourself just which. Little. Prick. Hurts the most."

Of course, there was a whole, wonderful world of torment that awaited beneath the sliver of truth, but that was the essence of it all. There was no better teacher than hands-on experience.
 
Eleanor only half paid attention to Charon as he rendered the catwoman unconscious. She heard the thump on the floor though so she acknowledged that she was not about to get attacked while her back was turned.

She watched him slide down and hand her one of his daggers. She had admired them earlier and now she looked it over in her hand. It was oddly beautiful. She looked from the dagger to the ogre's bloody back to Charon. She moved closer and brought the tip of the karambit up to the ogre's back.

Ella brought the tip down and dug it into the flesh of the beast. She slid the dagger down its back and the ogre let out another scream. This was probably least amount of pain he had felt all evening but he was in so much pain now that everything was amplified. She pulled it out with a fucked up smile on her face and stuck it into his back again with a little more force.

She looked at Charon as she pulled hard in a downward motion. "Yes?"
 
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It would have been the least amount of pain the ogre had felt so far had Charon not been subtly boosting the sensitivity of every nerve ending in the brute's body. Charon gazed down on Ella from his impromptu throne of flesh and studied her movements, then watched the look on her face as she stared up at him, seeking approval.

Charon knew that look. He knew it well. He knew it by the very way his own lips twisted upwards, spanning from ear to ear. It was the face of a sadist, tried and true. Charon leaned forward until his face was right down in Ella's and gently drug his index finger under her chin. Then he took the hand she held the dagger in in his own and guided it to another, more sensitive spot before wedging it back into skin, ever so slowly. She would feel flesh and muscle part in equal measure, and another, stranger sensation. That muted, fuzzy tingling of static discomfort that Charon constantly emitted would start to change. Instead of a vague sense of irritation, it would become one of warmth, of satisfaction.

"Very good..." He breathed, eyes burning red. He could barely contain himself at this point, excitement reaching the point of mania, but this was far too enjoyable to simply let come to an end. What a wonderful turn of events this had been!
 
Eleanor was enjoying this more than any sane person should. The pride in Charon's face as he touched her face and then guided her hand to the next spot that he wanted her to inflict pain on. She did indeed feel the muscle and flesh separate from each other as she slowly plunged the knife into the giant creature.

Charon's hand on hers and the smile on his face brought a smile to her own. His uncomfortable static that she had finally started to ignore shifted to something like a warm blanket that cocooned her in its warmth.

"You know what would be fun once we are done with this one? Using the other as target practice. Have you ever used throwing knives, Charon?" Her smile was equal parts evil and beautiful as she looked at her partner.
 
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Ahhh, now his freshly wrought protégé was already forming her own twisted ideas. As if on cue, the ogre finally collapsed under its and Charon's weight, the blood loss and trauma finally overwhelming the tired and tortured brute. If it wasn't dead now, it soon would be.

"I'm not intimately familiar...but by all means, let's have some fun with this!" He replied, fresh excitement entering his tone. Thrown weapons weren't his particular forte, that much was true. Charon's karambits weren't well suited for flight, and he generally preferred to be up close and personal. Ever the sensationalist, however, Charon was never one to turn his nose up at a new experience.

And the poor, remaining beastfolk had no idea what fresh hell awaited her when she came to. That thought alone made this outing all the sweeter.
 
Eleanor smiled widely as she looked around the room for some rope. Nope. The held up a finger and walked from the room with determination. It was not but a few minutes when she returned with rope in her arms and dropped them on the floor near the beastkin.

"Tie her up, Charon," she said with a smile as she used her magic to call a small table over to her. She opened her pouch and set out the eight throwing daggers onto the surface. "Let's arrange her however you think would be most beneficial as a target..."

Eleanor smiled and went to help Charon with preparations. She was surprisingly nervous about what Charon would think of her throwing knives.
 
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