Fable - Ask Slaves and the Slain

[Azlat Ushus]

It had been a long and enjoyable stay in Thagretis. Azlat had some official business to attend to with the high priests, who were curious about the discoveries and observations she had made. Epressa and Liadain remained new and largely undiscovered to the theocratic city state. What information Azlat returned with was well valued. That Esmerelda, the Queen of Route was receptive to their religion was a great boon, and Azlat was proud to report on the result of her diplomatic activities.

Most her time, however, had been spent with her two sons, Nytam and Eklos, whom she’d dearly missed. It was a welcome reprieve from priestly duties. Motherly duties kept her busier, but it’d been months since she’d been able to fuss over her boys. That she could again, had been the most cherished part of her visit. How she’d missed them so. She wished she could have brought them both back to Route with her, but Nytam had to remain. He had training to undertake, and couldn't be pulled away. Eklos however, had a couple of months before he’d need to return to the temple for theological teachings.

Azlat was elated at the opportunity to bring her youngest back with her. Though he missed his mother too, Eklos was initially pensive and hesitant to leave the known safety of their fortified city. But Azlat’s reassurance that Route was friendly did ease the young boy’s fretfulness, and after his initial hesitation he’d grown excited at the prospect.

During the trek back to Route, Eklos was so curious about these lands he’d seen for the very first time. Everything was so green. Such expansive forests and fields were a foreign concept to young Eklos, he’d never seen anything like it before. At every stop on the way back to Route, her young son had taken the opportunity to explore what he could. Each evening he scurried off to take in the sights while Azlat set up camp and prepared their dinner, a process he’d repeated this morning when she packed everything up again.

By now it had been five days, and his minor adventures had become a pattern. Azlat was never too worried. Most of the time he remained within eyesight. If not, he remained within shouting distance. There’d be big trouble if he didn’t return to camp when Azlat called for him, the fear of which discouraged him from straying too far.

Today, it would be he who called out for her.

“MOM!!”

Azlat stopped what she was doing in an instant. The pegs and canvas she’d been packing away tumbled onto the ground in a mess. She ran towards the sound of her son’s voice at full speed, darting through the trees and bushes in a state of wild panic.

“Eklo͝s!!” She cried out, but received no answer. Only the noise of a rickety wooden door slamming shut could be heard, and it only heightened her distress. She drew her shortbow as she continued to approach the source of the sound.

“Ow! Lemme go! My mom's gonna kill you! MOM!!”

She arrived to see Eklos locked away in a caged cart with seven others, all children, hauled by a pair of mules and lead by a pair of rough looking men. Azlat did not mince words, and made her demand clear with an arrow in hand.

“G͜iv̨e m̶y s͟o҉n bac̛k!”

“Hey, see? Told you she’d be a looker.” Remarked one of them with a guffaw, clearly not intimidated by the significantly smaller Azlat.

“So where’s the lucky daddy?” Scoffed the other, with a mocking grin worn on his face.

“I’̡ĺl r͟i̷p o͏út́ y̸o̸ùr t̨h̡r͜o҉a̸ţ.” Azlat responded, far from being of mind to negotiate. She began to nock an arrow, but ceased when the first slaver dared to point his sword at her son, bidding a look of terror from the young boy.

“Drop the bow. Or we’ll do this the hard way.” The other slaver ordered. Enraged and filled with bloodlust for these two who dared to threaten her dear son, she remained more frightened than angry. Slowly, she let the bow and arrow slip free from her hands, and as soon as she had disarmed herself the other slaver approached.

“Good. Didn’t wanna have to mar the merchandise.” He added with a cackle, soaking in the hate filled scowl Azlat gave throughout. His friend moved to the cage’s wooden door, unlocking it and holding it open while the first grabbed Azlat by the wrist and forcefully led her towards it.

Fear restrained her. She initially offered little resistance. Yet she was not as helpless as the men believed her to be. Once she'd been taken to the cage's entrance, Azlat placed a foot on the cart for leverage and yanked hard on the man's arm that belied her smaller size. Her draconic strength caught the slaver by surprise, sending him tumbling to the ground behind her before he could react.

“Bitch!”

The other took action immediately, and slammed the wooden cage door against Azlat, pinning her between it and the doorway. He kept his weight pressed against it, keeping Azlat pinned against the cart with a bitter glare given from between the bars. The slaver himself delivered a swift punch to her gut, causing her to hack and cough from the pain. He reared his fist back to strike her again, but she was prepared. With a guttural heave and opened mouth, Azlat ejected a burst of blue fire, fuelled by the draconic phlegm gathered in her throat. The violent torrent blasted the slaver's eyes, causing him to release the cage door and abandon his attack from the shock and pain. Brightly burning phlegm remained after he'd moved from the fire, dotting his face with spots that continued to burn. His hands reflexively moved to wipe it off. All he did was smear it, causing it to burn even brighter.

“You're gonna pay for that!” The other slaver bellowed out, now back on his feet with sword menacingly brandished.

“Eklos, get o͞ut!” Azlat shouted, tossing open the door. He didn't hesitate, hopping from the cage and running behind the cart and away from the fight, followed by every other child they'd held captive. Temporary safety had become theirs, but Azlat remained in danger. Her phlegm had been spent and could not fuel another burst of flame. She held no weapon, nor any other answer to the man's sword. But her concern for her son's life eclipsed any for her own.

Pinned between him and the now empty cart, Azlat held her ground while he continued his menacing approach.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

His feet were sore, his clothes were dirty, and he was tired. Vulpesen was used to travelling long roads at a steady pace, but now the weariness in his bones came from the miles of tracking he had been doing. Varos had tipped him off weeks ago of a slaving caravan travelling through these woods and the warlock had been dutifully searching for and eventually, along their route. He was close, he could feel it and that made the soreness in his muscles a satisfying purpose. "As soon as I'm done here, it's off to the nearest tavern, and I swear they better have a good whi-" His ears perked and faced a noise off in the distance, so far that had it not been for his zorren hearing, he'd have missed it entirely. It wasn't natural. It was a voice... and it was screaming.

Weariness disappeared as palm and boot slammed into the ground, a double pop ringing out from Vulpesen's hips as his legs moved to their running joints. A zorren at full sprint was terrifying sight, but few humanoids could boast a speed comparable to the quadrupedal gait of a zorren with somewhere to go. Still, he needed to be faster. The woods were a grand place and by the shouts int he distance, he didn't have much time.

Faster! I need to be faster! Vulpesen thought, his claws digging into the earth as he brought to mind the image of a sprinting wolf. He was faster than most humanoids, but even he could only do so much. He barely noticed as his cloak bristled into fur and his vision dimmed into muted colors. But he felt the burst of strength as his muscles swelled and his body shifted with a dull pain. The voices were now even clearer, a crying child and a snarling woman in opposition to his quarry.

As the slaver pointed his sword at the mother, he would find his body wrenched to the side as a blur of black fur dug its teeth deep into his arm with a loud growl. Putting the entirety of his weight behind the attack, the wolf-formed warlock tore and yanked at the limb within his maw, dragging and pulling as soon as his paws met the ground. Introductions could wait for a more peaceful moment. It was impolite to speak when one's mouth was full.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

No longer imprisoned within the wooden cage, Eklos initially hurried off with the other children. The young boy was as desperate as they to escape during the opportunity provided, yet hesitant to abandon his mother who remained under threat. A young boy, only nine years of age and barely as tall as Azlat’s shoulders, there was not much he could do but hide and listen. He could scarcely stand to see his mother hurt, but neither could he leave without knowing her fate.

Surely, she wouldn’t die. The young and frightened boy held desperately onto that belief. From his hiding spot in dense shrubbery found within the forest, Eklos kept watch over the encounter. He’d already lost his father – he prayed he wouldn’t lose his mother, too.

From behind, he could hear a rustling moving though the bushes. Already crouched low against the ground, the young boy threw himself flat against it. Eklos watched with wide eyes as the zorren leapt over the bush and bounded towards Azlat and the man. A quiet gasp escaped his lips, and he looked down in an instant. Were this his mother’s final moment, he couldn’t bear to watch.

But it wasn’t.

The subsequent masculine shout of pain told the unwatching child which side the canine took. Azlat jumped back against the emptied cage out of surprised shock, watching Vulpesen tear into the slaver’s arm. Eklos watched from his vantage point too, far more willing and happy to witness the mauling of the man who’d just threatened him.

“Yeah!” The boy cheered out from within the occlusion of the bush not too far away. Azlat ceased watching the unfolding scene of carnage before her, breaking into a hurried dash towards her son.

“Eklos!!” She cried out, shocked that he remained so close to the threat of the slaver. The tone was partly scolding and partly relieved, and the poor confused and frightened boy wasn’t sure if he was in trouble with her or not. Still, whatever trouble that might be paled in comparison to the fate the slavers had planned. Plans that Vulpesen’s vicious attack had abolished any chances of happening.

“Mom! Sorry I-” He began, but couldn’t complete the sentence before she scooped him up into her arms. Eklos could hardly make a sound beneath the loving embrace. Having been so distraught by the danger he faced, there was no part of Azlat that could be cross with him. She was far too upset that he'd been threatened to begin with.

“Are you hurt?” Was all she could ask as she held her boy tight.

“No.” Eklos responded, quite plainly.

Their conversation was broken by the pained sputtering of the slaver her breath had burned, and the subsequent rustle as he rolled to his feet with his sword in hand. His eyes were barely recognizable beneath the wounds he suffered, leaving his face an unrecognizable mass of red wounds, black scorch marks and pallid, blistered skin. Azlat stepped swiftly sideways as the man clumsily approached the spot where she had stood, and he wildly swung his sword through nothing but empty air.

After another step backwards, she set Eklos down onto the ground while the man made another wild swing that sent his sword through a tall shrub. Approaching him from behind, she reached for his sword by the sideguard and plucked it from his grasp to toss the weapon aside. Her other hand drew her dagger, and with unbridled hate did she plunge the blade deep into the man’s thigh.

“I ha̕̕ve…” Azlat growled as he began to topple over from the pain and muscles severed. “N̸ot kno͜w̴n...” She pulled back the dagger to stab him in the side next, continuing in a series of vicious punctures that advanced up his body and between his ribs.

“Ań͢yon͡e” With a grasp on the collar of his gambeson she next plunged the dagger into the side of his neck, causing him to clutch at the instrument of pain as he dropped to the ground in agony.

“Le͞ss de͜servi̕ng…” She continued, dropping onto him with her knees atop his arms.

“Of li̡fe…” She reached for the dagger lodged in his neck by the point and handle. Now at her mercy, there was nothing he could do beyond giving a useless struggle, which Azlat deeply savoured.

“Th̵̛an y͜ou!” She snarled, shifting a knee onto the slaver’s head to keep him pinned for what followed. With maternal wrath and draconic might, she yanked on the dagger. The man thrashed wildly with an agonized groan until it had torn through clear his neck with a sickening snap. Only a choking sputter escaped his now exposed throat, from which a growing pool of bright red blood coated the grass he laid on.

A promise kept.

“I told you!”

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen growled around the captured limb as he felt the slaver's other hand pummel against his head, then grab the scruff of his neck. No doubt owing the strength required to a surge of adrenaline, the man managed to hurl the wolf off of him, a pained shout leaving his throat as flesh was ripped from bone to remain trapped int he wolf's maw.

For his own part, Vulpesen allowed himself to roll away from his opponent, shifting back to his usual form before his feet had even gotten a steady hold on the ground. At this point, the mother, child, and enemy would finally be able to see who had joined the fray. Slight in build with long dark hair, the Zorren let another wolfish growl rumble in his throat, claw like nails flexing as he glared at the bleeding man. "Been lookin' for you," he stated, a hand drawing a glowing rapier from its scabbard to point evenly at the slaver's eyes. "Surrender and I'll drag you to the nearest town."

The offer was refused as he bent down to pick up his sword. It wouldn't have done him much good with his main arm so thoroughly ruined, but Vulpesen had to respect the gall to try and fight with only his left arm. But respect didn't mean he'd give him a chance. Bright golden eyes glowed brightly as the Zorren pointed his sword at the ground where the blade lay, causing the earth to shoot up and envelop its owner's hand. Then he pointed at his feet, causing them to sink into the quickly hardening ground. It was too easy a fight for Vulpesen to win without killing and as much as he had no qualms with slavers dying in the woods, he wasn't about to take the life himself.

Turning away from the trapped man, Vulpesen stepped towards Azlat and her son, sheathing his blade as he did so. "Are y'all alright? Sorry I got here a bit late. Been trying to trace their tracks for miles now, and to be honest, it might have taken me a bit longer if I didn't hear you shouting." Despite his previously fearsome show, he kept his tone friendly and his stance open. Mothers could be quite dangerous when their young were threatened. Such was a truth in both the bestial and human realms, and a truth that he didn't feel like getting on the wrong end of. However, while his voice was friendly, he did have to raise it a bit to be heard over the shouting and cursing of the rather irate prisoner behind him.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

As brutal as the manner in which she killed the slaver was, there was some small unintentional mercy in that it did not leave him much longer to live. With his jugular torn wide open, the precious blood that once supplied his miserable mind now poured out onto the ground. It'd serve better purpose nourishing the grass, anyway. Azlat kept still for a moment longer after he'd made his final dying motions. She needed a moment to compose herself. The slaughter had brought closure, ensuring the slaver’s blind attempt to kill Eklos would be the last he’d ever threaten her child! She’d have looked him in the eyes, had her draconic breath not left them so unrecognizable and useless.

Slowly and steadily, she rose to her feet that were now wading within the growing crimson puddle. After flicking the blood off her dagger, an attempt was made to return it to the scabbard at her hip. The blade however, had become too warped and bent to be stowed fully within it. The brief effort still left the hilt sticking an inch or two above the top of the scabbard once she'd given up. She then turned around towards her son she'd set down, who was looking away from her and towards Vulpesen, now in his human form.

It was still early in the morning, and she’d yet to cover her bronze toned face with the ceremonial paint she commonly wore. Bright yellow eyes with thin, serpentine slits looked back at Vulpesen with curiosity. She’d suspected it, but had not noticed the transformation.

But Eklos had.

The young boy remained watching as his mother approached from behind and placed her arms around him. Azlat didn’t do so protectively, by Vulpesen’s mannerisms and stance it was clear he posed no threat. But having come so close to losing her boy, she simply needed to hold him.

“That man saved you- saved us, mom. The beast turned into him.” Eklos explained. Unfamiliar with the wildlife of the northern continents, he didn’t know what term to give to the zorren’s canine form beyond that generalization. That it became a man was something else entirely however, and the young boy remained amazed that Vulpesen had turned from one thing into another.

"Are y'all alright? Sorry I got here a bit late. Been trying to trace their tracks for miles now, and to be honest, it might have taken me a bit longer if I didn't hear you shouting." Vulpesen kindly asked, which Azlat responded to with a meek nod of affirmation, beside herself with relief that her boy was safe and unharmed.

“Tha͝nk you.” She said quietly, with a relieved softness in her tone. “You were trac͢king them?” Azlat asked next, a touch surprised that someone was actually seeking to establish some sense of order to these lawless and barbaric lands. Encountering the slavers had been a new low, but she couldn’t be too shocked at their depravity. Azlat did not have a particularly high opinion of outsiders. She simply couldn’t. Those that had been invited to their city had taken the lives of her husband and eldest daughter. Having painfully paid the greatest of costs for granting trust, she’d not dare repeat the perceived naivety.

But that alone had not been enough to save her boy. This man was, and she didn’t know why he was so devoted, nor why he was so kind. But he had saved her and her son, and Azlat was nothing less than grateful for his presence. From a draconic eye flowed a tear of joy that she had her dear Eklos safe and sound in her arms once again.

“Fuck all you non-human scum!” Shouted the slaver Vulpesen had spared, bidding Azlat's attention and causing her to turn about to glance at him. An odd accusation, for she was human. She carried the blood and lineage of the Holy Elder Dragon, revered as progenitor of humankind. If anything, she was more human. For some reason, he'd chosen to let that one live. She’d have slaughtered him like she had the other one, but even if the reason was something like scruples she didn’t agree with, she still owed Vulpesen a life debt. She glanced to the one she had killed afterwards, and the scene she had left behind was a grisly contrast.

“Yeah you killed Siggy, you bitch!” Shouted the slaver on noticing Azlat’s turn of attention. Well, the first part of that sentence was true. And she was glad it was. Considering the unexpected mercy Vulpesen had shown to his opponent however, he might not be as accepting of her cruelty.

“He tri͞ed to kill m̡y boy!” Azlat sheepishly stated, quite truthfully, too. The attempt to take her sons life had spurred a level of brutality beyond her useful fare. Not that she was reluctant to resort to violence. It was often the only answer that worked. These northerners had taught her that.

“No, we tried to kidnap your stupid ki- ow, fuck!” The slaver shouted out again, his sentence cut short by a rock bouncing off his head. From the direction it had been thrown were the seven other children, most of whom looked a year or so younger than Eklos. They were all now gathered with rocks and sticks in their arms. All at once, they all pelted him with their hastily gathered projectiles, and there was not a thing he could do to shield himself from the volley. A large rock smacked into the back of his skull and snuffed consciousness from his mind. He stiffened up and stood still, and spoke nothing more as the children threw the last of what they'd brought.

“You’re stupid!” Chimed one of the children, though the unconscious slaver could no longer hear him.

“Eeee!!” Squealed another, before fleeing from the sight of the corpse on the ground.

“Is that Siggy?” Asked another, far less fazed by the sight. “You’re stupid too, Siggy!” He added, after determining that the corpse was.

“Thanks mister. For saving us from those slavers.” A young child announced as he walked up to Vulpesen with a beaming smile. One Azlat shared for a content moment, expecting the warm and heartfelt appreciation of a young child.

“And that witch.” He added, looking to Azlat who visibly stiffened up in revulsion at the accusation.

“I am n͢ot a wi̸tch!” She protested.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

The woman's question brought a smile to Vulpesen's lips and he offered an affirmative nod. "Aye. My master got word of them operating here, so off I was sent." A pointed ear flicked to the shouting behind him and he turned to fix a glare to the cursing human. "There are children present." As if to punctuate his admonishment, the human scum's next round of insults were broken by a hail of sticks and stones which the zorren was not in any mood to stop.

"You're quite welcome. Though, the lady holds a point. She can't possibly be a witch. Witches have wands and familiars, and big black books." He offered a grin and wink to Azlat as he knelt down to the boy's level to explain his mistake. "But if she were a witch, then you should never call her one. Unless of course, she calls herself a witch first."

He stood back up, a black tail flicking out from beneath his cloak as he scanned the child filled area around them. "I don't suppose they're all yours are they? Can't exactly leave a gaggle of kits in the middle of the wilds." Already his mind was moving to the coming challenges. The mother had removed one by disposing of one of the slavers. But that still left one piece of human trash and over half a dozen children to bring to civilization.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

The slaver gave a look of spite in response to Vulpesen’s admonishment, sneering at the zorren. Eklos wore a sour look on his face at the slaver’s comment until it transformed to a grin when the man suffered the children’s pelting of sticks and stones.

"You're quite welcome. Though, the lady holds a point. She can't possibly be a witch. Witches have wands and familiars, and big black books." Vulpesen spoke in her defence, for which Azlat was quite grateful. The young boy who'd made the accusation tilted his head before he explained his reasoning.

“But that man called her a witch.” Was his innocent argument.

“No, he sa̡id-” Azlat began, before stopping.

“You know what, children? Forget what he sa͠id. He’s stu͜pid.” She concluded.

“She breathes fire, though.”

“Do witches breathe fire?”

“I dunno.”

“My mom's not a witch. We're dragon blooded.” Eklos protested, quite proudly referencing his heritage. Completely unaware of Thagretan theology, the children drew different conclusions and concerns.

“You're a dragon?”

“Do you eat people?”

“No we revere a dragon. And no, we don't, we are people.” Azlat gave her patient correction to the children's innocently blunt inquisitions.

“Is it a good dragon?” Another child asked.

“Yes, dear, The best and greatest of all.” She answered. Given Drakormir's attempted actions during the event two years prior, other denizens of Arethil might not take the save view. But Azlat was His devoted worshipper, and she piously discarded the perspective of pagans.

“Drakon?” The young boy innocently asked, quite clearly a Celestialist. Azlat wrinkled her nose at the question, but it was not as if the young one could know any better. Azlat simply shook her head, and though the child looked a touch disappointed, he had nothing else to say.

“Sorry. And thank you, too.” The young child who'd made the accusation looked up at Azlat as he spoke, and she smiled at the sweet words.

"I don't suppose they're all yours are they? Can't exactly leave a gaggle of kits in the middle of the wilds." Vulpesen inquired, and Azlat gave a glance at the seven other children they'd released besides her son Eklos. Most of them appeared to be around eight years of age, though one looked a bit older than that, and another looked a bit older than Eklos was. Likely ten or eleven, she estimated.

“No, ju̧st my son Eklos.” Azlat replied, looking down in reference to her son at her side. “They br̛ought the ot̶hers. Those men to҉ok my boy and put him in the cag̨e with them.” She added, gesturing to the rickety, empty wooden cage. The mules hauling it were nowhere to be seen.

“They were gonna take us to the gold mines.” Eklos chimed in, and the remark earned a contemplative glance from his mother. This was unexpected news, she didn't know there might be gold involved. Though she'd settled into a more diplomatic role since establishing relations with Route, the possibility of acquiring tribute for the Holy Elder Dragon had never left her mind. Ever watchful for such an opportunity, the remark her son had made spurred the turning of gears in her mind. These brigands evidently had access to gold, and Vulpesen had stated he was seeking to deal with them to put an end to their slavery. Which might leave her to deal with the gold once those aims had been achieved.

“Go͟ld?” Azlat asked.

“Yup!” Eklos responded with a nod of his head.

“No, co-” Another child began to speak, before being silenced by another who spoke at a low volume only Vulpesen's sensitive ears could hear.“Shh! Don't say anything.” Whispered the other boy. After the small commotion, the boy who had been silenced stood quietly and held his tongue.

“The̢se s͡l͠avers have been a mena̵ce, haven’t they?” Azlat remarked, with her look returned to Vulpesen as she turned to the subject with renewed interest. “And are the͞re any safe grounds nearby?” Azlat asked next. She'd not dare drag her dear Eklos towards danger. She couldn't endanger the other children, either. As much hate as she held for the northerners whose barbarism she blamed for the loss of her husband and daughter, children were innocent. She'd initially just wanted to take Eklos and hurry off to Route, and while delivering her boy to a safe place remained her highest priority, she couldn't let the potential for riches go unexplored. And if it involved ridding Arethil of those low-lives deranged enough to kidnap children, all the better.

“Mom, can we get back to camp now?” Eklos asked, with a look up to Azlat. “I wanna get away from here.” He pleaded, discomfort clear in his tone. Justifiably disturbed by the unexpected encounter, he simply wanted to return to the safety of camp to gather his things, and then depart for the safety of somewhere else. Azlat couldn't deny her son's request, having the exact same worries as he.

“I think we should too, swe͜etie.” She replied to her son, before turning to Vulpesen. “I don't suppose you cou̶ld accompany us, please?” Once she posed the question, the children who'd been all scattered about gathered in a group before them. Freshly freed from captivity, they simply didn't have anywhere else to go. All swarmed the two kind saviours who'd put an end to their slavery, while Azlat awaited Vulpesen's response.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Even the zorren's ears flicked at the idea of gold just waiting to be snatched and grabbed. Capturing slavers did offer some compensation, but travelling did come with costs. What's more, a gold mine required laborers and he doubted that he had just stopped the first and only shipment of such labor. As Azlat spoke to her child and the others, Vulpesen found himself eyeing his unconscious prisoner like a freshly cooked steak, his tail twitching at the tip. "I think I passed a village not far from here. Hopefully they've got a guard on hand and someone to watch these guys," he said, motioning to the rescued children.

"As for an escort to your camp, I'll happily provide one for you. Besides, I'll need a place to have a nice private conversation with him before I turn him in, if you don't mind that is." He motioned to the slaver and stepped towards him, his hand moving to draw a length of rope from his bag. "Or you can get on the move and I'll join you once I'm done." He motioned tot he kids with his chin as he started to truss of the prisoner's legs. "I don't think what we have to say will be appropriate for their ages if you catch my drift." Interrogation was usually seen as the purview of the Tenevi agents, but while Vulpesen had only been groomed for a position within their
ranks, he had been trained to gather information as a scout. While rare, there were occasions where he found himself fortunate to capture someone who could give more information than one could gleam from a spyglass. Such information was rarely given willingly.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Azlat did notice a telling look in Vulpesen’s expression when the mention of gold had been made. His ears even moved. Desires for wealth were such a common trait among people. Regardless of location, the rare and precious metal was always highly sought, and that Azlat had the interest of another in the freshly discovered endeavour was a blessing. Better still, Vulpesen was a local carrying the knowledge of the land, and had been working with others to handle the slavers in possession of the mine. He had also mentioned a master, whom was evidently responsible for the information that led him here in pursuit of them.

"I think I passed a village not far from here. Hopefully they've got a guard on hand and someone to watch these guys," Vulpesen responded to her, telling her of such a place where the children might find protection. She hoped the village would be receptive to the request, though the idea of leaving Eklos with people she didn't know was uneasing. Leaving the other children was one matter, if it was the best available option. Eklos was her son however, and she hadn't planned to be apart from him until they'd reached the safety of Route. Or at least the protection of those she felt she could count on.

"As for an escort to your camp, I'll happily provide one for you. Besides, I'll need a place to have a nice private conversation with him before I turn him in, if you don't mind that is." Vulpesen added. Azlat nodded knowingly, her lips curled into a subtle smile at the methods she imagined Vulpesen had planned. So, he was willing to utilize violence after all, despite her earlier doubts. She was glad for it, holding little sympathy for one who made his living kidnapping defenceless children, and little faith that the slaver would respond to anything beyond applied pain. He certainly deserved it.

"I don't think what we have to say will be appropriate for their ages if you catch my drift."

“Oh, I’m su͢re I do.” Azlat replied, wearing a knowing grin. Vulpesen’s comment was a wise caution. The sight of Siggy had been clearly disturbing to some of the children, and even the others tried to avoid his remains once the braver ones confirmed that they belonged to their former tormentor. They’d surely be even more squeamish if they were around to witness the interrogation techniques Vulpesen implied he had in mind.

“Our thi̕ngs aren’t to̡o far from here, and the camp is def͟ensible.” Azlat added. Which it was, she had warded the grounds she and her son had slept upon as she did every evening. They'd provide her with plenty of advance warning should intruders happen upon the location. That Vulpesen was within shouting distance provided even further security. Neither she nor the children were aware of his heightened sense of hearing, which would hardly even be needed to hear them shouting from the camp, should there be cause to. Nor could they know of his heightened sense of smell – by now, the faint scent of burnt meat wafting from the direction had likely been picked up by the zorren, too.

“Okay ch̴ildren, follo̷w me. We’ve ju͜st got to ga͠t̨her our things, and then we’ll be o͟ff.” Azlat announced to the boys who’d already gathered.

“To that village?” Asked one of the boys, receiving a nod from Azlat.

“Yes. Away from these slavers. Fore͝ver.” She hoped, true and well, that she could at least count upon them to take care of their own. Azlat and Eklos made their way back, leading the remainder of the children who were quite reasonably eager for the safety they’d spoken of.

The captive slaver was already stirring once they had departed, a welt on his head and bruises on his face from the children’s pelting of sticks and stones. His bout of unconsciousness had only lasted a matter of seconds, but while his eyes were open, he remained silent in a stunned daze.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen watched as Azlat gathered the children and started off. The journey was short enough that he was sure they'd be safe. Indeed, if he needed to find them, he'd simply follow the scent of smoke wafting through the trees. But first, there was some information he wanted to gather. Striding over, he grabbed the collar of the slaver's shirt and stated off deeper into the woods, another hand snatching a dagger from his belt.

"Well," he began cheerily, "We're about to have a nice lil heart to heart. I'm going to ask some questions and you're gonna answer them as best you can." With a push, he placed the bound man with his back against a nearby tree. "Now you're probably thinking that you don't want to answer my questions, so you'll stay quiet. Rest assured, you will answer them. That is not a variable." The dagger flipped and twirled in the Zorren's hands, dancing around his fingers. "What is a variable is how long it takes and how much you enjoy this conversation." His tone never strayed from cheerful, even as the made his implications of consequences. Indeed, Vulpesen talked as if he were discussing the weather on a fine day or even winning some money at a tourney betting stand. However, his gaze turned dark and his smile took a sinister twist as he asked his first question. "Do you understand?"

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Despite his former attitude, there was now fear in the man's eyes. Death, he had been prepared for, but the cruel look and the twirling dagger foretold that suffering would await him instead. The slaver had just wanted to get on with it, and Vulpesen's prediction was true. He had little motivation to hold his tongue and bravely face cruel torture on behalf of the other outlaws. Siggy was not even alive to hear him snitch out the rest of the crew, anyhow. If he somehow lived, Siggy could take the blame, too.

Still, he despised the position he'd been put in, and wasn't about to be agreeable. The slaver glared in his impatient wait for his upcoming interrogation, followed by his own assumed execution.

“Get on with it, then.”

* * *​

Azlat could not smell the burning meat until they were close by. She’d nearly forgotten about it in her hectic rush to answer her son’s panicked cry for help. A part of her wondered just how badly it would be burnt until it came into eyesight and told her plainly by its appearance. Once red, the sausages had become blackened, shrivelled lumps by the time they returned. The eggs were no better, with blackened whites and darkly browned yolks. That had been Eklos’ breakfast, and it had been entirely ruined.

An inconvenience, but in the face of the terrifying tragedy that had nearly taken Eklos from her it was clearly a minor one. She moved the pan from the coals to the grass, where it boiled away the morning dew into wisps of white steam that escaped from the underside of it. She had bread packed with cooked potatoes and bits of beef that was meant to be a meal for herself, but would now feed her son instead.

Azlat hadn’t time to make another. She simply began to pack up her things, starting with her tent, which had been left in a disorganized pile of tarp, and poles. Sheets on the ground on which they’d slept were gathered and rolled up, tucked away in her pack as well. When she went to the pan however, she found the scorched food already gone. A loud, dry crunch hinted to where the food went, and Azlat turned her head to spot one of the children snapping the blackened crispy mass that had once been a sausage into two parts, then three. The others had already broken down the other burnt sausages into pieces which they were busily chewing, with difficulty.

“I’m hungry.” Pined one of the children, after he'd quickly scarfed his blackened, crunchy morsel of meat.

“Me too…” Commented another in echoed sentiment.

“Mom... can we share?” Eklos asked, and Azlat turned to him the moment he had and paused. She’d brought enough food for the two of them to last the trip, plus an extra days worth should they encounter an unexpected delay. What she could share would no go very far among 7 more mouths. The starving children had her sympathy, but she also had her dear son’s complete dependence to deal with as well.

“We don't hav͜e enough food to spa͜re seven ways, dear” Azlat replied. As soon as Eklos mentioned sharing the other children surrounded them.

“But they haven’t had any food in days!” Eklos pleaded, and again Azlat paused. She’d rather not simply give the food away, but she’d also rather see her son content and comfortable after such an ordeal. He clearly would not be if the others were left to starve.

“We’ve just enough fo҉r ourselves.” She insisted. Azlat was hesitant to give it away, out of fear she might have nothing to feed her own soon. Though she could not shake his poor pleading eyes. The eyes of the young troupe gathered around were boring up at her, too.

“If I didn't get rescued and got hungry, you’d want…” Eklos began, but he’d not finish the sentence before his mother interrupted him.

“Okay, okay...” She’d much rather he didn’t go on about it… which he knew, too. She already felt guilty enough that he’d been endangered so. The village would probably have food anyhow, it just wouldn't be very good. An affluent family, she and Eklos were used to finer foods than villagers tend to subsist on. It was doubtful the other children would notice, given how they devoured the breakfast she'd ruined.

“But you unders͡tand, that this means you'll ha͢ve to eat whatever t͡he villagers offer.” She spoke to him in a stern but straightforward voice, and he responded with a nod.

“Even if you d̢on't like it.” Azlat added, and Eklos nodded again.

“And y̷ou'll ha͜ve to say thank you.” She concluded, and Eklos nodded a third time at her. Azlat may have hated the northern savages, but she certainly wasn't one herself. She expected to be served slop, and she expected to hate it, but she wasn't so boorish as to do so without gratitude. It was etiquette. To offer food was to offer hospitality, and it was a terrible slight to reject it. But if Eklos was accepting of that as a cost of feeding the others, so be it. He still had enough to make it to the village, though Azlat would be left peckish for the trip.

“Thank you.” chimed the children at her comment, though Azlat hadn't even given them the food yet. Reluctant as she'd been, their voices did make her smile. Reaching into her food pack, she began to divide and hand out what food she had that needed no cooking; largely bread, jerked meat, and fruit.

All of which was readily devoured by the starving children.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's interrogation would be by many standards, brief, and pleasant. With Roland's(as his name had come to be known) cooperation, his pain was reduced drastically. Of course, there were a few lies within his answers, something that Vulpesen had been supernaturally adept at finding. Still, given some time with a healer, the slaver may some day be able to walk again, given his sentence from the nearest magistrate allowed him any days of freedom.

"You've been very helpful," Vulpesen offered cheerily as he stood up, wiping a bit of blood from his dagger. Thankfully, a couple of cuts on the thighs to remind Roland of the values of honesty hadn't done much to tarnish the glimmering steel. "Now, naptime and be quiet when you wake up."

"Napt-" the questioning repetition was quickly cut off as Vulpesen's arms snatched out and wrapped around his prisoner's neck. A simple squeeze to cut off blood flow and Roland was off to dreamland for Vulpesent o haul him up and toss him into the nearby cart.

After a quick search of the slavers' pockets to find the keys, Vulpesen locked the cage then took command of the mules, using his new ride to trot off towards Azlat and the children.


"Looks like the mine isn't too far from here. A couple days at most," he said as he approached the camp, his eyes roving over what was left of it after the draconic woman's efforts to bring it down. "Though, if we're going to travel together, even so far as the village, we really should be introduced." It had been bugging him since their first conversation, that he didn't even know the name of the woman he had come acoss in the woods. The boy's name he only knew through the mother's interactions, and he highly doubted 'mom' was the name she had been given by her parents. "Vulpesen Torrevaso, at your service."

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

The children devoured the food Azlat handed out in short time. Getting them to cease fighting over it had been a small effort, but once they realized there would be plenty of food for all, the children settled down. Azlat forfeit two days worth of rations to feed them all. It left her with enough to to travel, but she and Eklos would need to restock with more before continuing to sail down the river towards Route. Hopefully, the village Vulpesen had mentioned would have something palatable she could barter for. She'd learn to be wary of whatever passed for 'bread' with the locals. The last she'd purchased had been tough and foul-tasting, resembling the familiar food by appearance alone.

But the gesture of feeding them brought Eklos comfort, which was motivation enough. She wasn't normally one to spoil him so, but she really wanted to see him content and happy regardless. It was not lost on Azlat that he knew so too, and knowing her son, she felt sure he'd used that to try and gain her agreement. She knew he was being manipulative, and yet, it still worked.

She had managed to pack away most of her and Eklos' belongings by the time Vulpesen had finished questioning the slaver. The food pack was still open, and she was finally packing the rest of it away when his voice rang out from the distance. Azlat rose to her feet and turned to face him while the children finished their food.

"Looks like the mine isn't too far from here. A couple days at most, though, if we're going to travel together, even so far as the village, we really should be introduced." Vulpesen spoke, before giving his name."Vulpesen Torrevaso, at your service." So taken by relief that Eklos was safe, and moved by desire to user him off to safety, Azlat hadn't even gotten to introduce herself, nor ask his name. Better to do so now that that other slaver was dead, or so she assumed he was.

“I am Azlat, of ho͝use Ushus. And this is my son, Eklos. We're most gratef̶ul for your aid.” Azlat replied, introducing Eklos as well.

“Yeah, thanks mister.” Eklos chimed in with a shy but grateful smile, knowing full well he hadn't even expressed gratitude either. Azlat hadn't realized until now, and really she was just content that her son had done so unprompted.

“I hope the vi͝llage has food to spare. They we͠re a hungry lot.” Azlat remarked, while a few of the children were still finishing their meals. Feeding them was the least the locals could do, considering the children had presumably been their responsibility. Rescuing them was a great favour, and a cover for their utter irresponsibility, after all. A cage full of captive and abused children casually passing through was about as much order as she expected these uncivilized barbarians to exert over their domain. Ironic that the man who'd arrived as a feral beast had far more civility.

“Our th͡ings are packed and ready. Sḩall we set off?” Azlat asked, and the children gathered around them in preparation to depart.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

He gave a grateful nod at their thanks, sitting a bit straighter in his seat on the cart. "My pleasure. And I imagine the village will have more food than us travelers. If not, there's always the hope of hunting something out here." As he spoke, Vulpesen's eyes roamed over the children then to the cart they had for transport. While they could certainly fit within the cage, he highly doubted that they'd enjoy such given their earlier confinement. Not to mention, the still bound and gagged slaver who occasionally squirmed within.

After a moment of consideration, he jumped down and motioned to where he had been seated. "I think you and Eklos would best be suited for the seat. Assuming you can drive it and make room for one more. Each mule can hopefully carry a pair, then I can handle the last two. Everyone gets a ride." He walked over to run a hand over the neck of one of the beasts. "Won't be overly comfortable, but it should work unless y'all feel like walkin'." Inwardly, the warlock couldn't help but wonder if the most comfortable place would be where they kept their prisoner, though perhaps the ropes removed that little bonus.

In the likely case of agreement, Vulpesen would set to work, setting up the smaller children on the mules, using a spell to offer an apology for the extra load. Then, he himself would take to the final pair of children. Obviously, his current form wouldn't do, but wolves were far from the only form he had learned to take. A warhorse would have no trouble trotting about with a pair of children, though they'd likely need some help getting up onto his back. Even with his intelligence, there was only so much his form could do to accommodate them.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

"My pleasure. And I imagine the village will have more food than us travelers. If not, there's always the hope of hunting something out here." Vulpesen replied. Hunting and foraging were ample sources of food for most, but Azlat was a priestess, not a huntress. Further, she was utterly new to the continent and had little clue what to hunt. The fowl she'd hunted days ago by bow had been tough in texture and gamy in taste. Nor did foraging hold much appeal, without the knowledge of which fruits and plants might be poisonous or edible. For her, it was easier to simply buy food. Gold held appeal to many, and Azlat had plenty of it to spend.

Of course, Vulpesen likely knew the land well and had knowledge of what game would make for good hunting. Azlat had her bow after all, and could put an arrow through a wild animal's throat as well as she could a slaver's.

Vulpesen hopped from his seat, offering it to herself and her son. With his help, they had mules enough for all to ride on, and it was far better than leaving the children back in the cage. They surely wouldn't have cared much for riding within it. They were better off without that wooden prison the slavers crafted as their cruel and temporary home.

“A suitable arrange͜ment, if you don't mind.” Azlat said politely. She'd not have asked him to assume the role of a riding animal. She wasn't sure but it seemed poor tact. But that he volunteered to do so to allow the children to travel was a noble and meaningful gesture, an appreciated one at that.

“Are you chil͢dren set for a ride?” Azlat asked next, and half of them were already scrambling up onto the mules. The older ones did fine, as did some of the younger ones, but others clearly needed help.

“Help. please?” Several of them asked, and both Azlat and Vulpesen moved along to help the smaller ones who needed a bit of a boost to climb up onto the mules. The children were enthused to ride, having some freedom and control returned to them after who knows how long. Several were quite adept at it, likely the sons of farmhands or the like. Care was taken to place those children at the front. Once they'd finished, she helped Eklos up onto the mule Vulpesen had left them before climbing on herself. A stirring from the caged cart gained Azlat's attention, and only then did she notice the bound and gagged slaver travelling with them as living cargo.

“He's still alive?” Eklos asked, and she turned her head to confirm with a glance. Azlat expected him to be disposed of much like she had Siggy. She figured that was just how things were done on the continent, that Vulpesen had spared his life was about the most merciful act she'd seen on this side of the Asherah Ocean. More than he deserved, she felt, but she did owe Vulpesen. He had come to their aid, and were it not for him it may well have been her corpse left behind, instead. If he wished the slaver to live, so be it.

His fate was Vulpesen's to hold. Still, she was curious what he needed the captive slaver for.

“What ar̡e your plans for tha̶t one?” By the time Azlat asked him, he had already taken the form of a tall horse suitable for carrying the remaining two children. One by one, Azlat hoisted them up and helped them onto Vulpesen's back for the ride to the village.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's ears flicked to Azlar's question, and he turned to face her. Unfortunately, he was still a bit used to the front oriented sight of his normal body, and so the woman was offered a slight shake of the horse's head as he reoriented to face her with his eyes. Unfortunately, his powers of shapeshifting extended to his entire body, including his vocal cords. He wasn't sure if his shoulders were capable of shrugging, but he gave it his best shot before offering a more directed movement of his head, pointing his nose down the road.

Shapeshifting was perhaps the power he was most looking forward to when he started on the road to power that Varos had laid out for him. Its uses were endless. Espionage, travel, combat, and many more things became so much easier when one's body wasn't limited to a single shape. Sadly, communication was not found in the extended repertoire that had been offered to him.

Thankfully, the extra legs would shorten the trip and he doubted that Azlat would be particularly short on conversation with as many kids as they were travelling with. It wasn't likely to be particularly intelligent conversation, but perhaps the kids would surprise them.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Azlat's question received only a shake of the head and a strange gesture of Vulpesen's forelegs. She returned a quizzical look herself, misinterpreting the non-verbal response as a simple no. While it was an answer, it wasn't an answer to the question she asked. Though she didn't understand, she still drew the same conclusion that Vulpesen intended to give – that he either didn’t know, or didn’t plan to tell her.

Were it up to her, she’d have simply carved out the slavers throat like she had the other. Odd as it seemed to bring the bound slaver in tow, and despite the confusion in her expression, she wouldn’t inquire further. Azlat was utterly clueless to the custom of the nothern barbarians. For all she knew, he could’ve been taken alive to be ceremoniously executed, or perhaps sacrificed to whatever cruel gods the local pagans held as holy. He might've even been intended as a meal for the shapeshifter.

It became clear that she wouldn't get an answer, or even any words for the time being. He didn’t seem to have the capacity for them in his present form. Not that he needed to speak in order to guide her and the children towards the safety of the mentioned village.

“Whe͡re are you all from?” Asked Azlat.

“I'm not supposed to tell strangers” One boy innocently answered, to which Azlat could only pause with a muted smile at the response. Another boy spoke up next, ten years old by appearance and the eldest among the children.

“We're all from local villages. I used to live in Tebrere.”

“Well, we'll ge̷t you ba͜ck to your pare͡nts soon.” Remarked Azlat, and while the notion was pleasing to the other children, the elder boy wasn't moved.

“They're the ones that sold me off.” Replied the young boy. Azlat once again paused in surprise at the candid response. Though the smile was missing from her face, and in its place a disgusted scowl.

“My stepmom put him up to it, probably.” He continued.

“Well, your s͏t̴ȩpmothe̵r is wicked, and your fa͜ther s̷pi͜n͞e͡le҉ss.”

“Yeah..” Replied the defeated child.

“They kidnapped me. The guards took me off one day.” Piped up another young boy,

“So, where do you come from, ma'am?” Asked another of the younger ones

“Thagretis, dear. It's a c͘i͘ty far, far awa̸y.” Answered Azlat.

“Does everyone in Thagretis have dragon eyes?”

“...No, only so̢me of us.”

“...And you really don't eat people?”

“...On̴ly bad peo̶ple, de͘ar.” Azlat remarked, forcing a smile upon her lips despite the elder boy's odeous recollection. These poor children had been through a lot, but it wasn't their fault the northerners had allowed their societies to degrade so much. Their ancestors were the idiots, not them.

The remainder of the journey was brief, and with Vulpesen's guidance they soon approached the village. A pair of men emerged as dots in the horizon, growing ever larger as both groups continued to approach each other. Eventually, they drew near enough for communication, and one of them shouted out to hail them.

“Stop! What's your business?” Asked one of them, carrying a crossbow brandished towards Azlat.

“I am bringing the͘se ch͢ildren to safe͟ty.” Azlat replied, her tone terse but direct.

“What's- Why are you covered in so much blood?” Asked another who approached, armed with a spear.

“That's bad guy blood! My mom killed him.” Eklos exclaimed, prompting the guards turned to look at him when he spoke, reacting with suppressed surprise at the sight of Eklos' serpentine eyes.

“By the-” Remarked one, quite taken aback by the child's candid answer.

“..Do you know his name, boy?”

“He was Siggy!!” The children all cheered out the name before Eklos could even respond.

“I don't know a Siggy.”

“Still...She looks occult. Do you think she sacrificed-”

“I did not sa͢crifice him! Nor woul͏̵d I sa͞crifice any of you- don't fla͡tter yo̶urse͜͜lves. I killed him because-” Azlat retorted, only to be interrupted.

“By the gods! Who is that?” Interrupted the guard with a look of shock and an extended arm pointing a finger towards the captured slaver carried in the cart.

“Alright – what’s going on!?” The crossbowman asked, raising his weapon anxiously once he'd demanded answers.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Crossbows. Famously not known as instruments conductive to peaceful and constructive delegation. What would help the situation was words. Unfortunately, he was capable only of nervous neighing at the moment and if he wanted to prevent anyone from getting hit by a hair trigger, Vulpesen had to act fast.

His first goal was to neutralize the most immediate threat, that being a soaring bolt. Focusing on the winds around him, Vulpesen gathered the gusts and concentrated them into a wall before the witch, horses and children. Given their invisible nature, some fluttering leaves and grass would be the only hint to what he was doing before he gathered enough to form a westward wall, strong enough to at least deflect a dangerous missile.


Safety secured, his next goal would be communication, which would mean needing a humanoid throat. Quickly as he could, Vulpesen shrank back to his Zorren form, the children on his back, finding themselves lifted in surprisingly strong arms before being allowed to stand on the ground next to him. Hopefully the displays of magic so far would dissuade anyone from charging with spear or lance. "Please put away the weapons before someone gets hurt. My companion and I found some slavers in the woods with child cargo. We liberated the kids and took one prisoner." He motioned with his hands to indicate the parties involved as they were mentioned.

"Yes, we know magic," he'd continued. "No, we don't intend to sacrifice these men, but rather, we'd like to turn the survivor over to the proper authorities." His voice was calm, but firm, and certainly loud enough to reach all at the gate. It was the voice he used when explaining a plan to his men so many years ago. A skill he dusted off and slipped into when necessary.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

The trip was much shorter than she'd expected it to be, and had delivered her into trouble before she could even reach the town. She really should have cleaned off all the blood before departing. Bit too late for that, now, given that and the fact that Eklos gave the events away and spurred a complication to the encounter. In Thagtretis, she held a good deal of political strength, which largely meant that commoners never really dared to question or impede her. The northern barbarians held no such reverence, which Eklos realized once the crossbow was raised. Tense and stiff, he dared not speak anything further.

Azlat, startled by the sudden raising of the crossbow, had little chance to respond. A slight turn of her head revealed Eklos out of the corner of her draconic eye. He remained standing still and shocked as Azlat stepped away from her son, the aim of the crossbowman shifting along with her. Vulpesen let the children off his back and reverted back into his humanoid form as she did.

“Oh, the horse is a...person.” The guard remarked, pausing in contemplation of what exactly the zorren was, before safely settling on an indistinct term.

"Please put away the weapons before someone gets hurt. My companion and I found some slavers in the woods with child cargo. We liberated the kids and took one prisoner." Vulpesen explained, eliciting a response from one of the guards.

“Before someone gets hurt, bit too late for-huh?” The crossbowman remarked, speaking before Vulpesen could complete his sentence, but he cut himself off as soon as he'd mentioned slavers. By his reaction, he seemed to believe the explanation, though the younger one still seemed miffed at the interpreted threat.

“Yeah they saved us!” One of the children chimed in.

“We d͠id.” Added Azlat.

“Enough, lower the bow already. They're clearly not here causing trouble, Rin.” The older guard with the spear remarked, and Rin soon acquiesced.

“Just watch it. I ain't gonna hesitate if you threaten to hurt one of ours.” He scoffed.

“Just go get the village elder, I'll lead them over.” The older guard remarked. Azlat and the children followed him into the town, and Rin departed from the group to make his own headway there. It was a small settlement, with a few more than a dozen houses nestled in between two feet of a mountain. A spring stream crossed the way there, crossed by a small arched wooden footbridge.

The smell of cooked meat was in the air on their arrival, wafting from a firepit roaring beneath the legs of some large hoofed woodland animal above it. Eager to replace what food she'd parted with, Azlat made her prompt way over to the woman tending to it.

“We are low on food, we had to fe̸ed these starving young ones. Co҉uld you spare us any ra͡tions?” Azlat pleaded her case, and the woman looked up to her from her seat on a tree stump not far from the fire.

“Well, we can offer you a meal, but I couldn't give you enough for a journey.” She replied, hospitable but firm in her tone.

“I ha̸ve gold.” Azlat answered, letting a small but heavy sack of coins land on the table with a cloth muffled clatter. A few spilled out, and once convinced it was gold the woman amended her statement.

“Well, we can always buy more. Most gracious of you.” She said, her eyes still on what was far from a modest sum of money. The deal worked swimmingly; the woman could buy more food, and Azlat could find more gold. Her purchase was complete, but packing the food would have to wait until after they'd met with the elder, who'd just arrived. Rin was beside him, now unarmed with his crossbow stowed away.

“So I heard about slavers kidnapping children. These ones, huh? I'm Degel, and welcome.” The elderly man introduced himself, bald with a beard of pure white and creases upon his aged face.

“Quite concerning. Could you tell us more?” He added, awaiting a response with Rin at his side.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

To say the least, Rin did not leave a good impression on the warlock as he strode forth into the village. In truth, he was fairly tempted to set off the crossbow when it was lowered and give the younger guard an extra-large toe piercing. In the end, his calmer disposition prevailed and he simply led the cart on with its remaining steeds, allowing Azlat to handle the rationing of food. Inwardly, he heaved a small sigh of relief. While he was certainly willing to sacrifice his coin for the good of children, he knew it wouldn't leave much to fill his own belly. He wasn't a lordling anymore.

As the elder came forth, Vulpesen offered a small bow, his midnight black tail straightening behind him. "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Degel. Vulpesen Torrevaso, former captain of the Armis Militia, at your service." Introductions out of the way, it seemed the elder was eager to get to business, something Vulpesen was quite happy to join in. "My current employer heard word of children disappearing in the area and sent me to investigate. In my search, I found Madam Azlat in the process of keeping her own child from meeting a similar fate." He motioned to the Azlat, then to the man in the cage as he spoke. "Roland there, and his friend Siggy were trying to turn a bit of a profit. We had a bit of an argument regarding their profession and I'm afraid our argument was a little too strong for Siggy to stand."

It wasn't only the obvious violence that he had downplayed or left out. Indeed, the memory the children's statements still weighted heavily on his mind. “They're the ones that sold me off.” “They kidnapped me. The guards took me off one day.” For all he knew, the elder before him had been complicit in the kidnappings and the very thought that someone might sell their own child was one that he found beyond disturbing. "Should you wish to speak further on it, I'd ask we find a quieter place. The road has been quite long as I tracked down our friend in the cage."

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Sending Rin off to fetch the elder had kept him busy for a moment, at least. Vulpesen’s demeanour hardly went unnoticed by the elder village guardsman, who didn’t seem to care too much for Rin’s aggressiveness either. Azlat was noticeably off-put at the brandishing of the crossbow, the scowl she now wore was telling enough of that. Eklos darted over to her the moment the weapon had been lowered, watching and listening to the conversation from his hiding spot behind his mother. For the first time in his life, he had encountered guards who had made threat against either of them. Azlat had warned her son of the northerners and their savagery, and he believed that was exactly what he saw. Such a thing would never happen in Thagretis. Not to them, anyway.

Once the village elder had arrived, Vulpesen offered a gesture of genuflection towards him and Degel returned the bow likewise. Azlat, not quite understanding the nuances of local etiquette, quickly imitated the act, along with Eklos soon after.

“A pleasure, Mr Torrevaso. Though missing children is most concerning.” Degel replied. Azlat soon noticed that they were alone among the rest in doing so, and quickly stood again with Eklos again following his mother's lead. Brief as it was, her flub hadn't gone unnoticed by Degel, who was rather bemused by the sight.

“An understandable disagreement, I'm sure. Well, I am glad you two escaped without harm, and that you could save the other children too.” He replied, before turning to Azlat. “And oh, you honour me too much. You’re not from around here are you, Azlat?” Degel said, wearing an amused grin.

“I am n͡ot, no.” She responded plainly and simply, wearing a sheepish look on her face.

“Well, I assure you our ‘kingdom’ is most humble.” He chuckled. He wasn’t kidding, the settlement was as diminutive and derelict as any orcish settlement she’d known. The most notable difference to her was that it was inhabited by humans, not orcs. Epressa had many settlements of varying scale, some of which were kingdoms, and some that were not. Thagretis, in contrast was the lone location of actual civilization on their continent. Still, Thagretis was no kingdom. They had done away with royalty long ago.

Not that Azlat imagined a kingdom could be so small. She didn't know what qualified a settlement to be a kingdom. Still, the elder referred to it as such, and Azlat assumed that meant it was. She was simply too anxious to catch the sarcasm in his tone.

"Should you wish to speak further on it, I'd ask we find a quieter place. The road has been quite long as I tracked down our friend in the cage." Vulpesen concluded, to which Elder Degel gave a nod.

“Shall we re҉treat t̕o the thr̵one cham̢ber?” Azlat remarked, which elicited a chortle from Degel.

“Yes, of course, of course! You've got a good sense of humour to you, you know.” He responded, implicitly informing Azlat of his former jest. Not that she had made an intentional attempt at humour, her comment had come from ignorance and nervousness. But pretending she had was good enough cover.

“Well, th͟ank you.” Azlat replied, with her sheepish smile turned to a smirk, to better sell the small lie.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Not unused to large cities himself, the small but spacious building that served as a city hall was a humble thing compared to the Vitae’s grand halls and the castles he had been sent to scout during his time in the military. What’s more, the abodes of the fae were gaudy and fantastical, often by even the most audacious of human standards.

“Cozy,” Vulpesen commented politely as his eyes glanced about to the simple decorations. However, it wasn’t the décor and furniture that drew his careful gaze but the possibilities of what they might be hiding. He had come to this place in search of a quick solution and instead he had found a puzzle, created by one simple statement given by a child. [The guards took me off one day.] The words echoed in his mind like a belltower warning of an approaching column. It spoke of trouble, and Vulpesen knew better than most how unexpectedly close trouble could be.

“Has this been an issue you’ve dealt with in the past, or a new development?” He spared a small glance to Azlat as he asked his first question. She was certainly skilled in keeping up appearances, but every deception rang against his skull, a benefit of Varos’ contract. Not to mention, he’d had enough times in his own life where bluffing was necessary to keep one afloat when they were out of their depth. Best, he decided, to take the lead while she gained her bearings.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Rin had been silent so far, his gaze remaining towards the woman Azlat had made her purchase from. By the time she was making her entrance into the town hall with Vulpesen, he was glaring directly at her. Taking notice, she simply shot Rin a disgusted look which he hardly took well to. He opened his mouth as if to speak, before glancing towards Degel and other guard and opting to hold his tongue. While the two were inside, he made his way to the woman with Azlat's gold at a brisk pace, their conversation unheard while she and Vulpesen had their meeting with Degel.

“Cozy,” Vulpesen commented.

“Why, thank you.” Degel replied politely, a smile on his face. “You're quite courteous.” He added in his same jovial tone, without much regard to Vulpesen's searching eyes.

“Has this been an issue you’ve dealt with in the past, or a new development?” Vulpesen inquired.

“Well, I can't say it's an issue we've dealt with at all, to be honest. But in recent months there's been children missing in neighbouring villages... a child was taken at Nerton to the west, and a pair of brothers went missing from Locklin over to the north. I wasn't sure if it was a coincidence or not, but if you say you freed children from slavers I worry that it wasn't” Degel replied, a growing look of concern clear on his face.

“Chil͞dren just go mis̷sing? Th͢at just hap͝pens here sómetimes? And that’s ok̴ay!?” Azlat uttered in shock and disbelief, breaking the nervous silence she had thus far maintained. Her entire life had been spent as nobility within one large city known as Thagretis, and she had known and trusted in the security of the city throughout. She nearly lost her mind when her daughter met her unexpected demise, and to hear Degel speak so casually of a situation found so distressing seemed surreal to the foreign priestess.

“…Well, no! Of course it’s not okay! We just can’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know if it’s slavers, or monsters, or magic or negligence.” Degel replied, a touch taken aback by Azlat’s candid statement. “To automatically assume it had been an act of malice would be shortsighted. But the evidence you have brought tells otherwise. I fear that it is.” he continued, a bit offended by Azlat’s curt statement yet undeterred from further investigation.

Vulpesen