Fable - Ask Fire Burns Hot

[Zarra Bundyth]

The narrow trail of trampled dirt was a beautiful trail to follow. The only sign that humans had been there, and it didn't spoil the sight of the trees around them.

Zarra, for one, was glad that the sun was setting over the western horizon. She had a sunhat to prevent her eyes from being hurt by the large amount of light, but it didn't make it any more pleasant to be out during the day. Lucky for her there was also a canopy of trees to help her out with that.

Zarra was an odd sight to see on the surface, not that her clothes were overly flamboyant or that she carried something with her that caught attention. But the fact that she had obsidian black skin and silvery white hair, that's what caught attention. A drow, on the surface.

This time she was tagging along behind a rather handsome looking human, who stood quite a bit taller than she, by the name of Griffyn. He walked with a sense of purpose, and maybe a little urgency, and her bard senses tingled. Something was about to happen.

So she introduced herself and decided to tag along with him on his quest, whatever that was, and recount it all in a notebook to be written into a ballad later, or maybe she'd just go straight into writing one. But he had the looks of a hero, so she intended to see for herself, and spread the tale.

She hadn't really told him this upfront but she didn't exactly intend to hide it either.

So they walked along the path, and she removed the broad hat that she used against the sun, and folded it up before stuffing it in her bag. Now that there was no sun, here eyes were safe! And probably very useful too.

They walked a little longer before anything actually happened, Zarra had been looking up at the stars, having fallen in love with the sight of them from her first night on the surface, when something passed by. To Griffyn it would be no more than a passing shadow, effectively invisible to him, but she saw, she saw very clearly what it was, and where it was headed.

A pale skinned humanoid sped through the sky, with large, black, draconic wings, a tail and horns by the looks of it. Clad in thick armour of black leather, though he didn't appear to carry a weapon. But... Was he descending?

She tapped Griffyn's shoulder and pointed to the flying humanoid as it went down to the ground, maybe a little under a hundred feet away from them to the northeast.

 

[Griffyn]

Griffyn's shoulders were hunched as he made his way along the narrow path. His mind was fixed, stony and solid like the foundations of a house, and each little movement in the trees around him brought forth his full attention. He had never grown so weary of just walking in his life.

The Falwood. Long had he heard the tales of this vast and wondrous place. They said whole lives were lived out beneath the boughs without ever seeing direct sunlight; whole communities sprang into being, withered and died without a soul knowing they ever existed. It was the oldest place on Arethil, an enraptured young Griffyn had been told. And now he was here, stepping between her trees and catching the scent of her breeze. But he could not enjoy himself, nor take in the atmosphere of this most ancient of forests.

For the Falwood was home to folk who only weeks past named him 'Elfslayer' and stared him down along the shaft of an arrow. And though that crisis had passed, the resentment had been carried away into the trees by the elves of the city of Fal'Edwein. No forgiveness, he was certain, and elves lived for a very long time. Stalking the paths of the Falwood made him feel as though he was encircled by wolves. Still, this place was undeniably massive. The chances of him running into an elf who knew his face was miniscule, surely.

A silent tap at his shoulder made him jump free of his rumination and glance with alarm at his companion. Zarra pointed to the sky, and he followed her gesture with a scowl.

Zarra... The great city of Oban had not allowed him the rest that he had so desperately wished for. He recalled a long, long week of dignitary functions, debriefings with military minds and tours of the griffin towers. That last one he had asked for, mind. And then a request. 'Seeing as you are heading in that direction,' they had said.

He wasn't certain what had given him away to the bard as he prepared himself for travel. The longsword at his belt had been a gift from he who had sent him into the trees in search of wayward children, along with a promise that Oban steel was the finest in the world. Though he doubted the honesty of such a statement, perhaps the fine leatherwork of the pommel had revealed his 'quest,' as she had called it. Or the new coat, thin leather to keep him from overheating in the new summer sun. His accent, perhaps, clearly not Obani? Whatever it had been, the drow had refused to be deterred from her pursuit. And he hadn't fought so hard, in the end. After all, wasn't his true purpose out here in the wide world to see and experience new things? He knew so little of the drow, and Zarra had quickly proven herself atypical of such.

And speaking of atypical, a winged person.

Griffyn put a hand on the sword at his hip as he stared in the direction the flying fellow had gone. His stance became wide and solid, neck crouched to try and see between the trees. He glanced quickly at his companion and cast her a bemused shrug. What in the world was that? it said.

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

in the world was that? it said.

She returned the shrug, saying I don't know. And she started in that direction, better to have the sharper eyes up front.

Frankly, she had no idea how she knew either, he just seemed important and she went with it. Now it certainly was getting interesting.

As for his reputation as an 'elfslayer', she wouldn't be very good at helping him out with that particular issue. She, being a drow, was considered one of the "fallen angels" for elves. Maybe they'd be willing to give her a chance, but she wouldn't count on it. So neither of them were particularly liked by the inhabitants of Falwood.

But as they approached the place where the humanoid had landed, they would begin to hear a pair of voices in conversation. She continued forward, and when she saw their quarry she held up a hand to signal not to go further.

“...ell me you’re worried about elves.” One voice said to the other.

The second voice replied with, “whether or not they’re a threat is irrelevant. We cannot show our hand too soon, no unnecessary risks. You were told to kill any elves you see, there will always be more you can sacrifice later once our job is done. Until then, no elf survives. None.”

“Alright. If the Lord Cinder requires it, who am I to argue?” The first voice sighed.

“Exactly. Remember, return to the fortress once your sector is cleared.” The second ordered. “I have to help ready the subjects.”

Then they’d exchanged phrases in some ugly language neither of them would be able to identify. And both figures took to the air, in opposite directions. One going the direction that they saw one of them coming from, the other headed towards one of the mountains upon which the Falwood rested.

She whispered. “We each follow one and come back here? Or do we both follow one?”

 

[Griffyn]

"Follow?"

The word was out before he could stop it, uttered with a quiet insistence. His nervous heart had reminded him immediately that the last thing he wanted to do was to draw attention to himself in his trek across the Falwood. If there was bad business afoot, he was much safer staying clear of it. But his mind caught up a moment later.

Kill, sacrifice, subjects... Not the words of the magnanimous, by any means. And that tongue they had spoken, sharp and tarry like igneous rock. Whatever these creatures were, their intent demanded investigation. He could no sooner walk away from this than he could abandon who he was, his responsibility to his family.

And there was a more pressing reason to intervene. If his employer was to be believed, this path through the forest was the same path walked by a certain pair of girls from the city. Girls who had not been seen since. If they had gotten tied up with these dark-winged folk... Griffyn shuddered to consider the implications.

He sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. They didn't have enough to go on, and that worried him.

"We stick together," he said in response to Zarra's query. "Can't tell their strength at a distance, better to combine our efforts. As for which to go after..."

He looked past the canopy of trees at the distant mountains. The dark silhouette had swiftly passed from sight, moving with the grace of the griffins he had met in the city. He nodded in its direction.

"That one sounded like he was in charge," he considered, "which suggests he's probably headed for home. The other seems much more likely to be alone, which I reckon will make him more amenable to answering a few questions. We need more information first and foremost - I'd like to count the swarm before we kick the nest."

He cast her a wry smile. "Sorry if that sounds dull to you."

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"We stick together," he said in response to Zarra's query. "Can't tell their strength at a distance, better to combine our efforts. As for which to go after..."

He looked past the canopy of trees at the distant mountains. The dark silhouette had swiftly passed from sight, moving with the grace of the griffins he had met in the city. He nodded in its direction.

"That one sounded like he was in charge," he considered, "which suggests he's probably headed for home. The other seems much more likely to be alone, which I reckon will make him more amenable to answering a few questions. We need more information first and foremost - I'd like to count the swarm before we kick the nest."

He cast her a wry smile. "Sorry if that sounds dull to you."

“Not at all.” She said with a smile. “It’s an adventure, how could I possibly find it dull?”

She looked to the Southwest, the winged man was still visible in the distance. She started off after him, luckily for them he descended not too far away, but significantly farther than they’d travelled to get to the clearing. She stopped a moment, and said, “we don’t actually need to find him do we? We just need to draw him in. No elves left alive, so we can use me as bait, and you can get the drop on him.”

It sounded like a good plan to her, and she’d be in on the action, maybe she wouldn’t be too active in actually subduing the winged man, but she’d see it all, much better material for her, or rather his, ballad.

The more details the better.

 

[Griffyn]

Griffyn's foot caught against a root and he staggered slightly against its trunk as he followed Zarra in pursuit of their quarry. He gave her a wide-eyed glance as he sped his steps to catch up.

"Use you as..." he began uncertainly, and then shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. We don't even know what manner of creature that was, let alone what it is capable of. It's far too dangerous for you to try and lure it in."

He found he was quickly getting a sense of his new companion. Zarra had already proven her expansive knowledge of tales, fables and epics, and her passion for these stories spilled out of even her more mundane actions. But it was clear that she believed herself to be living in such a tale, a tale in which the heroes always won and the villains were vanquished without question. She evidently did not consider the danger to her own person in her adventuring. Perhaps Griffyn would have to be her voice of reason until they passed from danger.

But then again, he realised with a frown, he couldn't think of a better plan. They certainly weren't able to pursue the entity skywards, and they had no way of knowing when it would next come down to roost on its own. And to wait for an opportunity, rather than make one, would only take time. Time for those he searched for to fall victim to whatever these people intended for them.

He sighed heavily, and with a smooth motion drew his blade.

"Just... Just stay close, alright? Don't make yourself too easy a target."

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"Use you as..." he began uncertainly, and then shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. We don't even know what manner of creature that was, let alone what it is capable of. It's far too dangerous for you to try and lure it in."

He found he was quickly getting a sense of his new companion. Zarra had already proven her expansive knowledge of tales, fables and epics, and her passion for these stories spilled out of even her more mundane actions. But it was clear that she believed herself to be living in such a tale, a tale in which the heroes always won and the villains were vanquished without question. She evidently did not consider the danger to her own person in her adventuring. Perhaps Griffyn would have to be her voice of reason until they passed from danger.

He was partially correct. She did, more or less, believe herself to be in one of these tales, but she would never think herself the main focus, so she also knew the very real possibility that she'd die. But, she wasn't exactly useless at fighting, maybe not on the same level as her companion, but she'd be able to hold her own for at least long enough for him to get involved.

"I appreciate your concern friend. But we can't catch up with a winged man on foot, and he undoubtedly is better suited to hunting us, than we are to hunting him. So the best thing we can do is lay a trap, and I sincerely doubt that laying down a slice of cheese in an obvious noose trap will catch him for us."

But then again, he realised with a frown, he couldn't think of a better plan. They certainly weren't able to pursue the entity skywards, and they had no way of knowing when it would next come down to roost on its own. And to wait for an opportunity, rather than make one, would only take time. Time for those he searched for to fall victim to whatever these people intended for them.

He sighed heavily, and with a smooth motion drew his blade.

"Just... Just stay close, alright? Don't make yourself too easy a target."

"I'm never an easy target." She said with a grin.

And so the very unusual drow skipped off ahead into what could be considered a clearing, despite it's small size, less than ten feet by ten feet, even so, it would work. She, being the clever drow that she was, thought it a good idea to make the wait even shorter by grabbing attention. How to do that? By playing music. Elves, at least some of them, really liked music, so it wouldn't be entirely out of place to hear music some of the time when in Falwood, which in turn would bring the demon man right to them.

So opening her viol's case she began to play a piece of music without words, the sound carrying far enough to get attention. She continued to play for a while, until such time as she spied a winged man in the sky, coming straight towards her. She glanced to her companion. Their quarry had arrived.

She smoothly brought her music to a close so the creature didn't suspect anything at once, and started to pack up her instrument, and quietly reaching for her rapier. It didn't look like their quarry carried a weapon, but that didn't mean he was defenseless. And sure enough, she was right.

As he drew closer, something appeared in his hand. Something long that glowed a dark yellowish orange. As he got closer it could be identified as a sword, a sword seemingly crafted from fire. She drew her rapier, and not an instant too soon, as it just barely deflected the burning sword from hell away from her. The second strike came just as quick, and was just as hard to deflect. She was outmatched, obviously outmatched, but by the looks of it, he hadn't noticed Griffyn yet.

Griffyn

 

[Griffyn]

The creature attacked swiftly and skilfully, Griffyn saw from his shelter beneath the trees. The winged aggressor was visibly male, but those wings! Surely not a human, or at the very least one horribly changed by some infernal sorcery. He limited himself to grunts of exertion - clearly having no desire to explain his outburst to the drow he was engaging. And the vicious, burning sword that he conjured spoke of a need only to end things quickly and move on.

But in that was an opening. Griffyn noted the fierce momentum of the enemy's swings, the intense speed and wild thrusts and stabs of its flurry. He spotted the moment Zarra's control of her defensive stance slipped. And, with a simple swing of his wand and a loud, forceful exclamation of energy, he made his move.

Zarra's rapier came up to deflect another blow but the glowing enemy weapon instead clattered with an ethereal shower of sparks against a transparent barrier of force. Griffyn noted the surprise on the creature's human face, saw how its furious motion carried it into a second and third swing without being able to stop. Griffyn advanced quickly from behind as the drake-winged swordsman panicked.

The fellow, now assaulted by the unknown, sought to move to safer ground. It had not yet touched the earth in its attack and now used the freedom of flight, with the catalyst of a kick against Zarra's stomach, to push itself skyward. Griffyn dropped his wand to the ground as he reached up and clutched the departing leg of the enemy, tugging it downwards again. Though he earned a sudden boot to the face for his troubles, he heaved down and brought the flying foe crashing to the earth. The smouldering sword hissed against the grass as Griffyn held the aggressor down with the considerable weight of his body, and planted the tip of his sword under his chin. With a couple more defiant wriggles, teeth bared like a beast, the enemy grew still.

Griffyn exhaled. He could feel the bruise forming around his right eye, but it was a pain he ignored. He shook his head swiftly to dislodge sweat, and glanced up at his drow companion.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

But he could not take his attention off their foe for long. He eyed the creature severely as he began the interrogation.

"Alright, then. I have some questions for you, and you will answer them if you wish to leave this place with your life. Firstly, what manner of creature are you? Keep it simple, please, we have somewhere to be. Next, why did you attack my friend as you did, without even a 'hello'? Third..."

He took a breath. The engagement, though short, had winded him.

"Third, where is it that you have come from? Where do you call home, and where did that compatriot of yours end up?"

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

The fellow, now assaulted by the unknown, sought to move to safer ground. It had not yet touched the earth in its attack and now used the freedom of flight, with the catalyst of a kick against Zarra's stomach, to push itself skyward. Griffyn dropped his wand to the ground as he reached up and clutched the departing leg of the enemy, tugging it downwards again. Though he earned a sudden boot to the face for his troubles, he heaved down and brought the flying foe crashing to the earth. The smouldering sword hissed against the grass as Griffyn held the aggressor down with the considerable weight of his body, and planted the tip of his sword under his chin. With a couple more defiant wriggles, teeth bared like a beast, the enemy grew still.

Zarra, carried by her own backwards momentum, caught her heel on a root and fell back just as her opponent brought the sword of fire up to deliver the killing blow, when all of a sudden, he hit an invisible wall. He tried a couple more times to strike before deciding to regain altitude. Only he was just seconds too late.

The sword left his hand and dissipated into nothing as it left his grip. He let out an infernal, hateful hiss, sounding almost like an angry snake. But the blade at his throat deterred him from struggling too much.

Griffyn exhaled. He could feel the bruise forming around his right eye, but it was a pain he ignored. He shook his head swiftly to dislodge sweat, and glanced up at his drow companion.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

She, though winded from her fall, nodded in confirmation. "Yes I... *cough*... I'm fine." She managed to force out.

But he could not take his attention off their foe for long. He eyed the creature severely as he began the interrogation.

"Alright, then. I have some questions for you, and you will answer them if you wish to leave this place with your life. Firstly, what manner of creature are you? Keep it simple, please, we have somewhere to be. Next, why did you attack my friend as you did, without even a 'hello'? Third..."

He took a breath. The engagement, though short, had winded him.

"Third, where is it that you have come from? Where do you call home, and where did that compatriot of yours end up?"

He cackled evilly. "Oh I'm human, mostly, though that's slowly changing. Your Friend is an elf, I was told to kill them all, simple as that."

He looked up at his captor smugly, "We don't do homes, we wander, we travel. And he ended up in the mountains, took off for the old keep."

 

[Griffyn]

Griffyn cast a frustrated look down at their captive.

"So simple," he retorted. "But I'm afraid we could do with a few more details. Who gave you the order to slay all elves? What fool thinks he can rid the Falwood of its ancestral stewards? And did he mention why?"

He cast another glance up at Zarra. He was curious whether Zarra's identity as drow came into that order at all, but didn't wish to put words in the mouths of the drake man. He himself knew very little about the drow. Cousin species to the elves, he knew they lived in subterranean communities and had a problematic relationship with the outside world. Zarra seemed to have made a confident attempt at integrating with the wider world, even braving the harsh summer sunlight, and her unique perspective was part of what made him give in to her demand to follow him about. She could teach him something, show him something he hadn't known about previously, and that made her invaluable.

He tightened his brow and lips as he met her gaze now, an expression that asked her what she made of all this. It sounded as though she had also never seen anything like this creature before, but she also had her expertise in folklore to draw from.

"Actually," he added then, redirecting his attention to the winged man, "we could also do with a name for you. Do you have one of those?"

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"So simple," he retorted. "But I'm afraid we could do with a few more details. Who gave you the order to slay all elves? What fool thinks he can rid the Falwood of its ancestral stewards? And did he mention why?"

"Oh we just want them away for a while, we aren't stupid. We aren't ready for genocide, and even then that wouldn't serve out Lord's purpose." He said as though explaining to a child why they shouldn't eat poop.

"Actually," he added then, redirecting his attention to the winged man, "we could also do with a name for you. Do you have one of those?"

"Of course I have a name, we aren't animals you know." He said, sounding almost offended. "It's Alchanon."

By this point Zarra is writing frantically in her notebook, and staring intently at the current happenings.

 

[Griffyn]

Griffyn was growing angry, but he willed his heart back to relative calm before he responded to the creature's goading.

"You'll have to forgive me," he said, "for knowing so little about you... all? How many of your kind are there? And how does one come by such plumage and ability?"

He shifted his weight atop the winged Alchanon. This was looking to be a long morning, if the man continued to be so vague. But they were learning much, as much from what Alchanon was not saying from what he was. For instance, he spoke as though his presence and actions were a matter of fact, to be understood by all. That spoke of either naivety, or a cloistered upbringing. Griffyn assmed the latter. A tight community, then, led by a local ruler or charismatic layman.

"Did your 'Lord' do this to you?" he asked. "Why don't you tell me a little about him?"

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"You'll have to forgive me," he said, "for knowing so little about you... all? How many of your kind are there? And how does one come by such plumage and ability?"

"Oh, but forgiveness goes against our Lord's nature. We do not forgive we avenge. We do not spare we kill. We don't show mercy, at least not to those who are unworthy of it. It's impossible to know how many of us there are, truly impossible, only our lord knows, and I doubt you want to meet him." He finished with another cackle, his captor's fury doing nothing to intimidate him.

"Did your 'Lord' do this to you?" he asked. "Why don't you tell me a little about him?"

"He gave me the power, he gave me a chance, he gave me freedom." He said back. "All I have is a gift from my Lord. To do his work is an honour and a privilege. I am proud to be of use to him. He gave me vengeance, he gave all of us vengeance, we give him our loyalty, and in time he will welcome us to his side. All those who serve him have a place amongst his ranks. And he asks of us only the most basic and simple of sacrifices in return. A price we gladly pay."

 

[Griffyn]

"Sacrifices?" Griffyn's mouth twisted in displeasure. "Such as? You only seem to have gained from this deal."

He thought again upon the task required of him, of the writ of passage folded neatly in his satchel. Of two girls, whose fates were unknown. He scowled.

"Or is the truth that you don't pay at all?" he asked. "Does someone else pay the price for your gifts?"

The other one had called the lord of the mountain fort 'Cinder'. Already Griffyn was developing a vivid picture of whatever this being was. Some level of sorcerous strength was undeniable, else an alien alchemy or other unknowable factor, to create chimeras such as Alchanon. And the force that spurred such experiments was one of spite, pure and simple. Cinder was gathering similarly spiteful individuals to him with promises of venegance against perceived slights, it appeared. By the sounds of it, a considerable number.

"An easy price to offer, no doubt, for one such as you."

He no longer bothered to keep the distain from his voice.

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"Sacrifices?" Griffyn's mouth twisted in displeasure. "Such as? You only seem to have gained from this deal."

He thought again upon the task required of him, of the writ of passage folded neatly in his satchel. Of two girls, whose fates were unknown. He scowled.

"Or is the truth that you don't pay at all?" he asked. "Does someone else pay the price for your gifts?"

"I suppose that could be considered to be the case. Though it is rare that we sacrifice innocents. And you could say that we sacrifice our conscience to him in the process, not to mention that the transformations are agonising, even so, worth it."

"An easy price to offer, no doubt, for one such as you."

He no longer bothered to keep the distain from his voice.

"Definitely." He declared with glee. "Especially my first sacrifice. He deserved the fate I gave him. With Lord Cinder to steady my hand. And my anger, pain and loss as motive, he died, slowly to give me baptism as his disciple."

 

[Griffyn]

For a long moment, Griffyn was silent as he considered the man beneath him. This Alchanon had taken a life, one he felt was worth the killing, in order to imbue himself with strength and power. What tightened Griffyn's fist into a tight ball, however, was the shocking lack of remorse in the winged man's countenance. Instead, he was evidently both proud and excited to tell his grisly story. And though Griffyn's first instinct was to try and reason with him, to try and divert his course back to a morally acceptable path with insistant dialogue, he knew just from looking into those umber eyes that it would amount to nothing.

Alchanon would not regret his choice, not when the evidence of its worth was growing forth from him, visible each day in its monstrous power. What other course did Griffyn have, then? Could he bring himself to kill the man? Would he have to, by the time all this was over?

He looked away, teeth grit in frustration. The further complication was even harder to consider - that the girls he sought had also been targetted for something that they had done. What could that be?

"Tell me, then," he said, willing himself back to the here and now. "What did this fellow do to deserve your ire? And what exactly did you do to him? Explain, if you would."

Though it would no doubt hurt him to hear it, Griffyn knew that every bit of information was valuable. He glanced at Zarra briefly. She had no doubt heard as bad and worse in her travels, but he would hate foe her to be afeared by what she heard.

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"Tell me, then," he said, willing himself back to the here and now. "What did this fellow do to deserve your ire? And what exactly did you do to him? Explain, if you would."

"Oh nothing. He made me watch as he poured molten lead down my wife's throat. As he skinned my children." He said with a look of pure hate, the only time that his expression dropped its smugness. "Lord Cinder comes to those who've lost hope, to those of us who have nothing."

He glanced at Zarra, "he's found your kind, at least your men, to be quite willing to follow him."

Zarra would look as if in thought, book still open but no longer writing. She'd nod her head, "I do remember that a little while before I left the underrealm, there had been a number of attacks and abductions, even for drow society. I even saw the aftermath of one such attack, charred skeletons laying in piles of grease that could only have been their flesh, and frequently a number weren't killed outright, sometimes bound to pillars and flayed, with their eyes and tongues removed. Gruesome doesn't begin to describe it.'

Her gaze shifted from the ground to the demon-man, "that was you?"

"Not me, but my brothers in the underrealm, maybe a few of your slaves were involved, Lord knows how much they must crave vengeance against your people. Cinder simply gives them the means."

He returned his gaze to Griffyn. "As for what I did to him, you really don't want to know. Only those who know the fury, the thirst for vengeance that brings Lord Cinder to us could possibly stomach such acts. I will tell you this, he suffered, for hours he suffered.... And I loved every second of it!"

(I hope I'm not making this too cliché, or cheesy for you.)

 

[Griffyn]

(Bring it on, it's epic!)

Griffyn blew out a long breath. This got better and better. There was true evil at work here, that much was certain. The kind of evil that made it into tales and legends. The kind of evil you didn't think you would ever truly have to encounter. Were there people like Alchanon and Cinder even in his home of Alliria, hiding among the rich and poor? It didn't bear considering.

"Well," he said at last, feigning calm, "it sounds like we might need to have a word with your Lord Cinder. Or at least, someone who makes the decisions in this part of the world. But thank you, Alchanon. You've been very helpful. I don't believe there is anything else we need from you?"

He looked to Zarra, her journal still open in front of her, askance. He hadn't suspected that this might have a personal connection to her, or even just to her wider culture. He hoped this was not causing her distress.

"Right, would you mind passing me the rope?"

Perhaps tying this fellow up would bring him a little satisfaction.

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

(Bring it on, it's epic!)

Griffyn blew out a long breath. This got better and better. There was true evil at work here, that much was certain. The kind of evil that made it into tales and legends. The kind of evil you didn't think you would ever truly have to encounter. Were there people like Alchanon and Cinder even in his home of Alliria, hiding among the rich and poor? It didn't bear considering.

"Well," he said at last, feigning calm, "it sounds like we might need to have a word with your Lord Cinder. Or at least, someone who makes the decisions in this part of the world. But thank you, Alchanon. You've been very helpful. I don't believe there is anything else we need from you?"

He looked to Zarra, her journal still open in front of her, askance. He hadn't suspected that this might have a personal connection to her, or even just to her wider culture. He hoped this was not causing her distress.

"Right, would you mind passing me the rope?"

Perhaps tying this fellow up would bring him a little satisfaction.

(Great! PREPARE FOR INTENSE GORE!!!!! later on of course.)

They wouldn't exactly get the chance to tie him up. When she handed him the coil of woven hemp, he had to take a hand off their captive for a moment.

You know, her description of black bones and grease puddles should have raised red flags. So should his burning sword. What about? Fire.

The demon at his feet would suddenly twist around and grip Griffyn's leg, which would heat up very rapidly, almost to the point where if he'd been touching skin it would brand him, (branding touch, second infernal book).

But that's not all, using his seemingly supernatural strength he'd work his way out from under Griffyn and make his way to the skies. Cackling wickedly as he went.

"Fare thee well mortals!"

 

[Griffyn]

Teeth bared, Griffyn fired his wand into the air with heated shouts. The bolts of flame arced impotently through the atmosphere at Alchanon disappeared from view.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, surprising himself with the outburst, before sighing and scowling down at the grass. "That'll be the lot of them aware that we are coming, now. Sneaky little bastard..."

Shaking his head, he turned to Zarra. "I'm sorry, he was stronger than I expected. Are you alright? The way he was speaking, I expect you'd want him strung up more than I."

He watched the tops of the trees. Clouds obscured the mountains, but that was evidently their next destination. The sun had passed its zenith and emerged from the clouds to briefly dazzle him, forcing a hand to his brow. The Falwood was an unpredictable path to treat, he had been told, so there was little way of knowing how long it would take them to reach whatever stronghold Alchanon and his ilk had set up. Judging solely on visible distance, Griffyn hoped they would make it by nightfall.

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

Teeth bared, Griffyn fired his wand into the air with heated shouts. The bolts of flame arced impotently through the atmosphere at Alchanon disappeared from view.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, surprising himself with the outburst, before sighing and scowling down at the grass. "That'll be the lot of them aware that we are coming, now. Sneaky little bastard..."

Shaking his head, he turned to Zarra. "I'm sorry, he was stronger than I expected. Are you alright? The way he was speaking, I expect you'd want him strung up more than I."

"It's fine, we'll figure it out." She said to him. "And no, I can't really blame him. If anyone deserves a chance at vengeance it's drow men and the slaves we keep. It actually made me feel a little sympathetic. I'm not going to condone what they do, but I can certainly see why so many people would want such power and for that purpose. It also sheds new light on the mass murders that were happening in the underrealm before I left. It was a lot of murder, even for drow, and we, in general, worship the goddess of murder so that's saying something."

He watched the tops of the trees. Clouds obscured the mountains, but that was evidently their next destination. The sun had passed its zenith and emerged from the clouds to briefly dazzle him, forcing a hand to his brow. The Falwood was an unpredictable path to treat, he had been told, so there was little way of knowing how long it would take them to reach whatever stronghold Alchanon and his ilk had set up. Judging solely on visible distance, Griffyn hoped they would make it by nightfall.

She didn't realize it had taken all night for this to happen, and was caught off guard by the sudden light. She cried out in sudden pain and shielded her eyes, dropping her notebook as she did and taking a few steps back in recoil. She frantically reached for and rummaged through her bag to pull out the protective sunhat and donned it.

 

[Griffyn]

Griffyn started at his companion's sudden motion, remembering too late her peoples' sensitivity to sunlight. He whipped off his jacket, ready to throw it over her head, but saw that she was faster and better prepared than he had given credit and instead he had to foolishly re-clothe himself. He fetched her journal from the grass and handed it to her instead.

With his satchel returned to him from where he had hidden it beneath the trees, he led the way back across the path and deeper into the canopied overhang of the Falwood. It was a long moment before his resolve broke down and he was forced to voice his thoughts.

"I suppose I do understand the desire for power to right a wrong," he said eventually, thumbs in the straps of his rucksack. "But I hardly think it is as simple as that beast made it sound. Vengeance as a goal solves nothing, I have always found. All it does is stretch out the pain, which could have been concluded once and for all by other means."

He thought back on the pride of elves and lords, at how an inability to backdown and a need to continually escalate had caught innocents in a conflict which should have simply been about two people. But he also thought about blood splattered on a wooden floor, and a woman's cruel steps to contain her own daughter. He had longed to right the balance then, before he had had a chance to cool his head. That woman had learned nothing from coming up against him, and would continue to hurt others. If he had the power to turn that pain about, to make her suffer as she had made others suffer, would that not lead to peace?

He shook his head as they walked, his thoughts heavy.

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

Griffyn started at his companion's sudden motion, remembering too late her peoples' sensitivity to sunlight. He whipped off his jacket, ready to throw it over her head, but saw that she was faster and better prepared than he had given credit and instead he had to foolishly re-clothe himself. He fetched her journal from the grass and handed it to her instead.

She didn't really see his removal of the jacket, since she was busy trying not to be permanently blinded by the sun. But when he handed her her notebook she smiled at him and said, "thank you."

"I suppose I do understand the desire for power to right a wrong," he said eventually, thumbs in the straps of his rucksack. "But I hardly think it is as simple as that beast made it sound. Vengeance as a goal solves nothing, I have always found. All it does is stretch out the pain, which could have been concluded once and for all by other means."

"Up here, probably. But that's not the case where I'm from. In the underrealm you tread or are trodden upon, you oppress or you are oppressed. Men where I'm from are second class citizens at best. Normally they're worth less than even slaves, which always means a life of suffering. Really, the pain would just continue unless you destroyed the source. From what I understand, these people, these demons who've converted some of those below, at least down there, may very well seek genocide against the drow. But this group, I don't know how you surface dwellers do things. But I advise you not expect any sense of reason from them."

 

[Griffyn]

Griffyn could only shake his head.

"No wonder you left," he said quietly, half hoping she didn't hear. The reference to men as 'second-class citizens' was a surprising familiarity. The colourful city of Dornoch had been the same, though to describe his experiences there as slavery would be a gross exaggeration. He had found his life led for him while in Dornoch's walls, had been granted very little choice in the path to walk, though he himself had still been free to choose from limited options as he wished. Of course, he had had an ally with him who knew the streets better than he, and who had been a young woman of noble blood. Perhaps he did not truly know the half of it.

Zarra's underrealm sounded hellish, in every sense of the word. But Griffyn was aware that they may well be walking into somewhere far worse. And the inability to reason with his enemies meant only one course of action, one he did not wish to dwell on.

As the day drew on above their heads, Griffyn sought to change the subject.

"Go on, then," he said with a smile. "Where's the best place you have ever visited in your travels?"

 

[Zarra Bundyth]

"Go on, then," he said with a smile. "Where's the best place you have ever visited in your travels?"

She thought for a moment. "I honestly can't say. I've seen so many things I'd never imagined, that I can't really say which is my favorite, I hadn't even seen so much as a waterfall down in the underrealm." She said scratching the back of her neck, "Really, it's just caves, spiderwebs and dripping stalactites. That's basically it. But up here, everything, absolutely everything is just straight up better. Better buildings, bigger cities, more stories to hear, there's simply too much for me to truly have a favorite."

She spoke with a voice of wonder, as though entranced by the thoughts she was having of the surface. "It's a real shame my eyes can't handle sunlight. But, maybe someday."

She looked his way, "What about you? What's your home like? What's your favorite place you've seen?"