Private Tales Vultures

[Fieravene]

"Oh," Fiera waved a hand dismissively at the barrage of questions, "ancient magic is unruly at the best of times. These things happen." An answer as if she'd explained to him that yes, the sky is typically blue or that water was usually wet. These things happen.

The elf pushed off from the wall, strolling forward in the dark of the tunnel past the guards presently still in a heap on the ground and over to the mule. Her eyes, glowing presently like mirthful coals, blinked back at him before looking upwards, "These are the ruins ... and I suspect we look for some stairs. Hm." Smirk.

"Light your torches, gentlemen, it is dark in the ruins of Mar'Athir."

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris remained where he was, leaning against the wall for support, as Fiera ambled away. Joyful as could be. Not a care in the world. He watched with bitter resentment. Maybe if it had been her jackass to get melted, she'd have been in a less chipper mood.

And yet he doubted that.

"Mar'Athir," Gaheris repeated, softly. Dwarven words were uncomfortable on his tongue. He added, somewhat more softly: "Thanks, I hate it."

He made his way over to his armsmen, glaring at Gamlek as he passed by. Pierto, the one with the falchion, had also been in charge of the lantern. And judging by the smell, he had also been the one in charge of pissing his pants. The armsman with the long-knives was the one who had been incinerated, now leaving only Gascoigne, the one with the mace.

"Have you still got the lantern?" Gaheris inquired, softly.

Pierto held it up, weakly. "I do, I do."

"Great."

Gaheris snatched it rudely, then handed it off to Gascoigne. He sneered and wandered off down the corridor, trailing after Gamlek and Fiearavene, trying desperately to smooth his heat-frazzled hair.

 

[Fieravene]

With the Orc, Elf, and mule in the lead, none of which requiring visual aid to see, they struck off down the lonely hall of rough stone, following the winding path. It seemed to go on for ages, turning and bending, pitching and yawing like a ship lost to a stormy sea. Fiera uttered something about the living path extending beyond the realm of the unseen, into the stone, dark fingers traipsing against the side wall.

The rocks around them gave a rumbling reply, shuddering briefly and dropping stone dust and pebbles on their heads. The elf smiled and continued, the mule made a noise of mulish concern.

Finally a faint breeze of cold billowed inwards through the stale air, bringing with it the scent of what a dwarven people leave behind in their abandoned underground cities. Fiera paused in the darkness, waiting briefly for Gaheris and his crew to catch up, and turned a broad-sided smile back at the man over her shoulder as the lantern illuminated the edges of stone stairs.

Up they went.

At the top a wild wind whistled past, tunnel opening into a massive cavern.

"Well," Fiera remarked with wide eyes as she stepped out, patting the Mule on the rear as she stepped by, "this is marvelous."

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris stared glumly back at Fieravene , wondering to himself if this escapade would forever ruin the experience of women smiling at him.

No, that was a foolish thought. After all, it implied he would live long enough after all this that he might experience it again. Funny how long walks through tunnel complexes brought one closer to existential contemplation. This was a maddening descent, in more ways than one.

Eventually things opened up, and a gargantuan cavern was exposed. Gaheris had seen Dwarven settlements carved from mountains before, but nothing quite like this. It seemed to stretch on for miles, and the edifices hewed into the walls contained strange motiffs he didn't recognize.

A dead culture. As dead as they were about to be. He shivered at the thought, but also because it was chilly in here.

Gaheris folded his hands under his armpits, shuddering in the breeze. "Tell me you recognize this, please."

 

[Fieravene]

Nok. Nok. Nok. Nok.

Fiera stepped ahead of the round, coming to a stand at the middle of stone platform upon which they stood to survey the chamber. She took in the sight of carved statues and sprawling catacombs, the stalactites and stalagmites fixed like fangs, agape at either side of the throughway.

A cold wind carried through, whistling ominously, buffered by worn leather armor.

"Tell me you recognize this, please."

The elf raised a hand to signal for silence, her crimson eyes passing from one corridor to the left and down along another to the right. A distant rumbling echoed in on the wind from the right.

Fieravene served up a wretched sneer, "Hello, darling..." She glanced back to the group, waving them to follow after, "I would recognize that welcome in the ninth pit of hell. Come along, not much farther. Gaheris - if you please..."

A motion was made for the man to join her at the front and she paused just long enough for him to fall in stride before gently clearing her throat. The elf leaned in towards him, keeping her voice low, "Just how attached to your associates are you?"

 

[Gaheris]

She gestured for silence, because of course she did. Gaheris would have liked the record to show that he remained silent not because she ordered it, but definitely because he had nothing further to say. He glowered and folded his arms impatiently.

Something rumbled through one of the corridors. More surprises. Great.

Fieravene sneered openly and grotesquely at... Something. It was nice that she finally wore her contempt so plainly - that was far easier for him to understand. But he looked unsettled by it all the same.

"Recognize what welcome?" he only muttered, sensing it was pointless to ask. He plodded along as directed now, hand moving aside his cloak to fasten itself to the stiletto he carried.

And then she asked him a terribly inappropriate question. Moreso than usual.

"More attached than I am to you," he snapped, clearly not making any attempt at concealment. "Don't test me, elf."

 

[Fieravene]

Weeeeellll, well, well.

The elf's brows shot upwards into her hairline, eyes widening in wonder at these spicy words leaving the blond's mouth. Somewhere in her smirk there was a glint of pleasure, of yes, I do verily like this new flavor and I'll have three more servings, please.

"Mmmmm," the sound crooned within her throat, thick with intrigue, "my but you are fetching when you're cross." She leaned towards him, molten-honey gaze locking onto those burning embers of his own, "It really brings out your eyes."

 

[Gaheris]

He did the thing - his routine. The one where his brow furrowed and his lips pursed entirely too tightly, looking at Fiearvene as if she had sprouted an additional head or several. What? What was she...? Oh, she was bothering him! Again!

The nerve!

Gaheris flushed with an aggrieved fury, and his countenance turned so sour one might have thought he'd been given a lemon wedge to chew on.

"You... Stop doing that!" He hissed. "If this turns out to be a wash, it'll be your hide that the Guild will tan, not just Gamlek's. So I advise you start taking things more... Seriously!"

 

[Fieravene]

Oh, but he was positively delicious. Fieravene's smirk twisted with dark delight - the man might've just proposed to her with the threats he was tossing about. Spaghetti at the wall, but it wasn't sticking the way he wanted it to.

"How do you keep the ladies away with such honeyed promises, hm?" her voice dropped an octave, smooth as silk, a hand snaked through his arm while they walked, snaring him by the elbow, "Ye of little faith. You will see. Now," a gentle yank with her vice-like grip to bring him even a bit closer, "I will need someone to run distraction and draw the dragon from her horde. Gamlek already has a job and you," she poked his chest, "are he who agreed to the deal and gets the spoils. That leaves them."

 

[Gaheris]

"I don't-" he began, somewhat indignantly, only to be yanked by the elbow. Oh great. They were walking arm-in-arm now. Marvelous.

"You unhand me at once," he demanded in a hoarse, haughty whisper.

But he otherwise made no physical attempts to see himself released. Yet. Such a firm hold she had! It would have been nice, but only if it were welcome in the slightest. Which, of course, it wasn't. He listened intently, scowling openly.

"Gamlek has a job?" he scoffed derisively, skin stinging from that unmannerly poke she gave him. "Outside of racking up gambling debts, you mean? He's the one on the line, he can handle whatever ill-fated distraction you need."

He wrenched his arm away from her now with an indignant grunt. "I'm sure someone as charming as you can enrapture another Orc of similar dimensions if something happens. Besides, then we'll be even as far as casualties incurred go."

 

[Fieravene]

The elbow yanked free of her grasp and the plan surreptitiously denied, Fiera regarded the man with a littling stare, lips pursing in consideration. She blinked, raised a hand to make a point, then offered the man a nod.

"Very well," she replied, "I concede to numerous points well-made. Gamlek will run distraction while your men take point in Gamlek's original position. Do you elect for the safest position?"

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris gave a self-satisfied harrumph. Of course Fieravene conceded - to his well-made points, no less. As anyone of sound mind would have, of course. Gaheris considered himself positively full of good points. How kind of her to finally notice.

He looked incredulous at the suggestion that anywhere near her could reasonably be described as safe. "And where, pray tell, would that be?"

 

[Fieravene]

"Why, with Daisy of course," Fiera responded, gesturing fondly back at the mule being lead along by Gamlek. "She will be waiting safely beyond reach of any ferocious fire-breathing beasts for the duration of this escapade."

 

[Gaheris]

Gears were turning in the necromancer's head now, however slowly, however surely. Gaheris' eyes narrowed in on Fiearvene.

"And where will you be...?"

 

[Fieravene]

"I will be working to undo the dragon's magic protecting her egg clutch," Fiera replied without pause, "and then verily filching said eggs."

 

[Gaheris]

“Will you now?”

The look of suspicion did not slink from his features. Gaheris had no idea how large these dragon eggs could be. For all he know, she could just run off with the eggs and leave him down here. Alone.

With a donkey.

And then there’d be two jackasses stuck in a cave.

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Gaheris said, “I’m not leaving you alone to skulk off. I’ll be coming with you.”

 

[Fieravene]

"Your concern for my welfare is quite endearing," Fiera smiled sweetly, like poisoned honey. It was clear that's not what he meant, but she was going to write her own version of this tale whether he liked it or not. They were heading along a side corridor of the great open cavern, making their way towards an enclosed hallway that was both dark and dreary.

"Have you some magical capabilities?" she asked, red eyes casting a baleful glow in the bleak tunnel.

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris inhaled in preparation of some long, drawn out verbal abuse, only to exhale into a sigh. Deep breaths. This would all be over soon. Either he would be dead and never have to listen to her again, or they would be rid of this place, and he would also never have to listen to her again. Or so he could hope.

An ominous hallway stretched before them, but compared to the other ominous hallways they had seen getting here, it was not too bad. Gaheris fiddled with the hilt of his short blade anyway.

"Of a certain persuasion," he replied, "Nothing of use to you."

Really, it sounded like he got that question quite a lot.

 

[Fieravene]

"They wouldn't happen to be of the elevating-the-dead persuasion, would they?" she cast a knowing look over him as they walked, firelight of the lantern reflecting in her gaze, "Selling pounds for a pittance ... tsk. There happen to be quite a few lifeless parties mucking about down here. I wager they haven't had a gig in a couple centuries."

The tunnel ended at the cliff of another mountainous ravine, stairs carved into the rock face at either side. Fiera hung left and started the march up, up, up.

 

[Gaheris]

His preferred method of raising the dead usually involved fresh corpses, the removal of certain organs, the stitching of certain runes - it was all very surgical. But you couldn't do any of that without also knowing the more... Base methods of necromancy.

"Yes," he admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. "That can be arranged."

They came to a set of zigzagging stairs, carved directly into the walls. Impressive. There were even some impressive murals, not that Gaheris could make heads or tales of their content. Too old. Too weathered. A sad loss for art historians the world over.

Gaheris let her take the lead on the stairs. A decision he came to regret, and so he kept his head turned somewhat to the right, looking out into - or perhaps admiring - the depths of the catacombs they had just crossed through.

 

[Fieravene]

There was a particular sway to the elf's hips as she ascended the stairs and a wry expression to match. When they reached the top she stepped back to give the group a good look-over.

"Change of plans," she began, knowing that only Gamlek had any sort of idea on what those plans had previously been, "Gamlek, you will be running distraction to keep the beast out of her lair and away from her nest."

Gamlek's brows screwed together over a solid blink. He didn't seem to have a strong reaction one way or another, though he did seem mildly confused at the sudden shift of his job.

"Gentlemen," Fiera looked to the buffoons, giving a slight sniff at the lingering scent of piss, "you will be taking Gamlek's original position down by the nest once Gamlek has lured the dragon away. Your job will be to wait until I have successfully removed the protective spells surrounding the nest and then assist in transporting the eggs back to the lovely miss Daisy who will be waiting here. Gaheris will be with me and provide assistance in raising some nearby extra hands."

 

[Gaheris]

He could still see the sway a few moments after they reached the top. He blinked to clear himself of the vision. Oh, how he hated himself for it. Gaheris folded his arms and did his best to look authoritarian and in-charge while Fieravene did literally all of the speaking.

Frankly he had been hoping for a more visceral reaction from Gamlek, that bastard Orc, but you couldn't have everything. Maybe if Gaheris prayed to the right gods, Gamlek fall into a ditch - and stay there - sometime after this whole thing was over.

The armsmen, for their part, looked between one another, then to Gaheris. Clearly if he was on board, there was no need for further discussion.

"Yeah, sure, sounds good."

"Uhhh, I can do that," said the one who smelled like piss, but with the sort of inflection that implied he was rather trying to convince himself of that fact.

Only the best and brightest from the Red Guild of Cortos.

 

[Fieravene]

"Excellent," the elf replied sharply before bending into a crouch. Drawing through what amounted to years of cavern dust and dirt, she shaped out a rudimentary map and placed four dots at various points.

"Now, I expect using one's imaginations isn't a high demand. We are here," she pointed to the largest dot, "this central corridor is where Gamlek will lead you both towards the dragon's lair down here. Halfway down the corridor there is a side hall that you two will take that leads to a side entrance of the lair chamber. Wait there until Gamlek has successfully drawn the dragon out."

"Gaheris and I will be moving up to the next level where we will take position here, on the King's balcony over the chamber. Any questions?"

 

[Gaheris]

Pierto shifted his weight from one foot to another. He'd stopped dripping piss, but he was far from dried off. Gaheris tried not to imagine how uncomfortable that must feel. The smell was bad enough. "Do... We have to?"

"Yes." Gaheris answered, flatly, before Fieravene had a chance to.

The other armsman was a more thoughtful sort. "Do we just start taking fistfuls of gold as soon as the dragon's out, or...? What do you guys do up on the balcony?"

Gaheris raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for Fi's answer. Were there a lot of corpses on those balconies? He could hardly wait.

 

[Fieravene]

"No," Fiera gave the idiot a smile of poisoned honey, "your first order of business is to collect the dragon eggs and take them back here to Daisy. Once that task is complete, then you may pilfer and plunder until your pockets burst and hearts are content. Capeesh?"