Coris awoke beside his wife, feeling her warmth, her touch upon him, and wetness between her thighs as she mounted him and his morning 'rising'. Her body was damp, and cooler than he would have expected, water dripping from her hair. As he slipped inside her, Coris reached up, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her down, drawing out a moaning and shuddering from Beliana, whom leaned forward, kissing him, deeply. This kiss told him much, as he could taste the rain on her lips and as she pressed against him, insuring his cock remained deep inside her, grinding against him slowly and passionately, he smiled, a moan escaping his lips. "Ach, the rains 'ave arrived then?" he noted, when he could get words out between the sounds of pleasure that escaped his lips.
Beliana slowed down, just enjoying the feeling of Coris throbbing within her, their bodies pressed together, the feeling of being atop him, her husband, her lover, her conquest. However she wanted something else this morning, and responded as she slowly lifted herself off of him, letting him feel every inch of motion. "Indeed lover, they have, as I finished my morning prayers the rains began. Now no more words. I wish to taste and be tasted." she instructed him, pressing him down, as she pivoted skillfully, seating herself upon his face, and taking his cock into her mouth. She felt him kissing her thighs, taunting, teasing her clit and lips with his tongue, much as she did with the head of his cock with her own lips and tongue. It was the first rains of the wet season, it seemed an appropriate excuse to enjoy a very different breakfast in bed. After all, as thunder clapped and winds rattled the palms on the compound, there would be no business today.
No, today the rains and waters would simply be enjoyed, a sentiment both Coris and Beliana intended very much to match within their bed and with each other. Especially since Coris' leg was healed now, scarred and but a memory of weeks ago, the pair could truly make love comfortable, long and passionately again, and they intended to do just that today. After all, what way more fitting to celebrate the arrival of the rains. Beliana pushed herself down, taking her husband's cock deep down her throat, feeling him restrict her breathing, a dangerous and beautiful sensation that she thoroughly enjoyed. She shuddered, feeling herself coming to a climax, a wet and full one, her body shuddering. This would be but the first of what would be many this morning, she knew, as she felt her husband throbbing, lifting her hips to catch his breath, quivering with excitement, enjoying her pleasure, her body, before lowering her back onto his face. She felt him release, enjoying the taste of him, just as he had done with her, shaking with pleasure from it. She was pleased that he responded so well to her continuing to stroke, to suck, to keep his cock in her control, very swiftly stiffening back up for her. It would be a long, busy and pleasurable morning indeed.
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Belle heard the dull echoing of thunder, and the picking up of the wind as she finished her morning exercises, and decided to forego the cleaning and towels of the training rooms. Instead she rushed outside, sky-clad, though with her clothing in arm. She placed it on the bench under the lip of the structure's roof before rushing out into the rain, enjoying the cool winds, the strength of them, the bite of the sudden torrential rains, after so many months of dry, sand, and heat. Others were similarly doing much the same, many of her fellow mercenaries either nude or clothed dancing and splashing about the puddles that were forming. Such was the delight of the first rains in Kalesh, hell in all of Susma.
Belle placed a hand on her side, feeling the scar from the antlion, now nearly three weeks old, the stitches having been pulled after only ten days. She'd been anxious for a proper contract since, her and her friends having made do with small time work, bits of pest removal, hunting, nothing of substance, these last few weeks. The real work came with the arrival of the rains, and this time of year was a great excitement from a professional perspective as well. After today, the day of celebration and the day of storm, she knew the jobs would come in much more swiftly. The tail end of the dry season was always a lean time for the Sickles, with lower bounty jobs and less of them. With the arrival of the rains, in short order would come back the open bounty on Canids, the feral canine bestials that oft raided and ransacked trade roads, and so to would come the lucrative merchant guard contracts. A time of opportunity and plenty for any and all mercenaries and a time she and her companions had discussed much during the dry months, excited to really establish their reputation, the reputation of the Stone-Sun Companions. So even as Belle embraced her inner child, dancing, laughing, jumping and splashing about the swiftly forming puddles, part of her excitement was not just child-like exuberance. Part of it was a professional excitement for the busy four months to come, and all that would entail.
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Vondiras came out of his trance like resting state to the feeling of water droplets falling upon him, slowly at first, though they swiftly picked up in tempo. The low rumble and dark grey, almost blackness swiftly covering the sky from the southwest told the elf much and he rose swiftly, getting to his pack and quickly getting out a small mallet and some little metal hook like clips called palm hooks. He moved into the palm trees amidst the small oasis, finding three that were close enough together. He drove two hooks into each, then freed a moderate size tent like canvas that he kept in his pack, the largest object by far he carried on such excursions. He hooked it to the clips, insuring it was taut and well spread out. By this point the rain had woken Silvius, whom was already yipping and playing in the rain and with the swiftly forming puddles and rivulets that ran down the banks towards the small oasis. Vondiras smiled at that, for the pool had been quite low. Given the rumbles of thunder and the biting winds and strength of the rainfall, that would be corrected this day, the day that heralded the arrival of the rainy season.
Vondiras swiftly moved his bow and pack under the makeshift rain tarp, as he did his quiver, insuring the fletchings and his bow, and particularly the bow string, were protected. Once this was done, then he joined Silvius with full abandon, the pair wrestling and splashing about the swiftly forming sandy mud and dirt, puddles and rain, yipping and laughing with great enjoyment. Regardless of the walk of life, regardless if servant, or noble, mercenary or farmer, merchant or criminal, the day of the first rains after the dry season were almost an unofficial holy day in every region of Susma, a time of joy, child-like games, and happiness. He was but a day from Kalesh, but Vondiras knew he would not make it home tonight, but though that may create complications tied to his branding and his permissions, they were complications to be concerned with on the morrow. This day belonged to he and his canine companion, and the oasis they were sharing it with, and it was all theirs to enjoy.
Such a place was a blessing to one as in touch with nature and the wilderness as Vondiras was on a day such as this. He knew today he would get in touch with the wilderness of his new homeland more than he had any of the few months previous. Such rains would inevitably draw animals that had survived the dry, as well as migratory animals that had returned over the previous week or so, and they would all, in the local area, likely be by this oasis before the day was out. A thrilling prospect, one that made returning a day later, a headache that would inevitably see him chewed out, perhaps even lashed if the city authorities had their way, well worthwhile.
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Vondiras and Silvius moved through the city's northern most gates, joining the hustle and bustle of Kalesh coming awake, truly awake. It would be only a matter of time until the bazaars and street side markets were full to over-flowing, with deals and auctions and open air trade being hammered out all over every market square in the city. Until foot traffic would near double, and until not a single inn, tavern or pillow-house in the city was at any less than full capacity every single night. Such was the nature of the short but lucrative rainy season in Kalesh, the city that was well known as the 'Nowhere on the way to Everywhere.' Vondiras moved comfortably, despite his brand and the obvious bow slung over his back and spear he walked with, the elf confident that he could simply slip back to the Sickles compound without attracting attention to himself. He had a nik-nik pelt to eventually deal with, but it was cheaper to tan it himself anyway, especially with the busy trade season coming up. Every local tannery's schedule was going to be well booked and their time and priority was going to cost a premium.
Vondiras and Silvius were wanderlusting sorts and had done many of these solo hunting excursions and the pair were confident in spite of Von's station and the brand on his forearm, weighing its connotations against the mark of the Sickles and believing that second mark had enough weight to shield him from any actual legal trouble. He might get chewed out, maybe even spend a night in cell, though they'd not catch Silvius. He might even catch a bit of a beating, but nothing serious. He'd likely made dozens of these excursions if not more, in the time since he'd come to Kalesh and accepted the brand of servitude.
These were the thoughts in Vondiras' mind as he moved through the residential area that was familiar to him, known simply as the Commons. This made up almost half the city, containing most of residential dwellings, as well as many markets, the Temple of Fortunes, and many other key landmarks, including the Sickles Compound. He was weaving his way through the market square, passing by Toric's Arms and Foundry. However something he heard slowed him. It was voices yelling, from over the wall, in the yard where the forge would be. Except the forge was clearly closed, the interior shop and storefront locked and barred, the forge not sending smoke or making any noise. He listened intently, trying to make out the conversation as best he could.
"Ach, nae a branded, ye damned fool o' a 'alfman, are ye daft or 'ard o' hearin'? came the gruff voice of Toric Anvimac, the master smith and head of this small dwarven clan whom owned the practice of Toric's Arms and Foundry. "Nae any indentured workin' in me place o' business at this nae any 'our this year. So ye 'ave nae business wit' what ye told me ye was 'ere fer. So get yerself from me property, so me an' me kin may finish lockin' up the back an' get- the blazes, get yer damned 'ands off m-!" the protesting ended abruptly, and Vondiras' keen ears caught the sounds of a struggle from beyond the walls, hearing two voices. speaking in Halish. One of the voices sounded familiar to him, outside Toric's northerner accent, as he heard a third voice.
He heard a voice in Halish speak, cutting and rude, aggressive. "You assume we care one way or the other, branded, your still meant to serve. Now get on your knees and perhaps we merely requisition some coin and some goods, and leave you unharmed. Show respect to your betters." The voice was all too familiar, and Von paused, looking down at Silvius. It was Lirel, and he heard another voice he could also identify, the human Rasmus. The third voice was another halfman, but this time it was one he couldn't identify.
Vondiras paused, trying to convince himself not to do anything rash, however he heard Toric grunt, and heard the dwarf's wife call out, upset and angry, only to be struck, by the sounds of it and her sudden silence mid sentence. Vondiras looked down at the two brands on his forearm, then at Silvius. "Back to the compound with you, I'm about to do something foolish and will need to be bailed out." he told her, pulling his cowl up, though he knew that wouldn't effectively hide who he was very well. He shrugged loose his pack, and then divulged himself of his bow that he'd had hanging from a shoulder, presenting it to Silvius. "Take this and back to home, fast as you can girl. Find Coris and Beliana, they'll know what to do."
Silvius did not want to listen, Von could see it in her eyes, in her behavior. However she trusted her packmate, so with a quick nuzzle, she did as she was bid, taking off at pace. Vondiras could hear the three constables, shameful though it was to call them such, taking turns hitting and taunting Toric. The elf had the good sense to grip his spear more like a quarterstaff, having no intention to cut or kill anyone, but he simply couldn't sit by and listen to this any longer. The light was fading, and shadows favored the elves of Scavi-il like no other. They were even touched by them in a way, able to manifest small but simple magick of a kind. Vondiras moved around the corner of the compound, keeping to the shadow the wall threw, peaking around to the scene within, seeing the three officers, the smithy and his wife. She was hurt bad, bleeding from around the ear, though she seemed to be breathing. Toric was incensed, but had clearly been struck half a dozen times or more with cudgels, his hand and wrist swollen, a leg clearly in pain, and having a rapidly forming black eye and broken nose. Vondiras took a deep breath, glancing one last time at his brands. He was not being paid for this act, nor should he even be considering it, given his place as an indentured. Yet he simply couldn't let this happen. The three officers, all young, all clearly prejudiced, violently so, seemed to have no intention of stopping. They seemed unconcerned for the woman, uncaring of the potential of killing. They were enjoying themselves.
Vondiras focused on the shadows surrounding him, and locked eyes on the shadow being thrown by the far wall of the smithy, which was in line with Lirel's back. Drawing upon his heritage, he felt the shadows swirl, felt the touch of Scath ever so briefly, the manna of darkness and shadows embracing him as kindred. He stepped forward, into the embrace, fading from sight, reappearing directly behind Lirel. Vondiras wasted no time, even as Rasmus, whom saw him appear out of the corner of his eye, turned, pointed and began to speak. The fire-hardened ash wood haft of his spear cracked into the knee joint of Lirel, the halfman falling over mid pivot, and Von didn't hesitate, kicking him in the temple hard, knocking Lirel unconscious cleanly, before the halfman even knew what had happened. Rasmus and the other officer turned on him quickly, Rasmus seeming to catch sight of the brand, and noting the height and build of the assailant, made him immediately. "Its that bastard elf we told you about Hayth, see the brands? He thinks the rules don't apply to him." Rasmus fell back, pitching the cudgel and unsheathing his shamshir. "We'll kill you elf, no one will question it."
Vondiras didn't pay him any mind, focusing solely on the blade, as the man lunged forward to engage him. Vondiras danced back, slapping the blade aside with the haft of the spear, using it like a spear, but with the point facing back, still intending no lethality. As Rasmus tried to step in, he was rebuffed with a cracking strike on the knuckles and hand, his strike knocked off center, as he nearly fumbled the blade. Vondiras thrust the haft of the spear as if it was the tip hard into the man's mid-section, knocking him back two paces as he fell on his backside. Hayth however, had stepped back, and Von saw him about ten paces away, arm extended with his wheel-lock pistol cocked and pointed at him. "Drop the spear, elf, or I put this round into your chest."
Vondiras did briefly consider trying to rush the smaller target, but dismissed that option immediately. He was fast, but not that fast, not when this officer already had his pistol drawn and leveled, ready to shoot. He knew what was coming next, but let the spear clatter to the stonework floor of the metal yard, able to take a touch of solace in but two facts. The first was that Lirel was breathing, but not rising, clearly unconscious, and the second was that Toric and his wife, whom he must have dragged or carried, had made it safely back into their home, hopefully locking and barring the door. Vondiras fell to his knees with a grunt as he felt the blow of a cudgel on his right leg, on the back of a knee joint. Rasmus had sheathed his blade for the moment, and recovered his cudgel, and once he had Vondiras kneeling, he went to work on the elf, hammering him with blows to the face, arms and torso. All the while Hayth kept his gun trained on the elf.
At some point a blow struck Von in the temple, hard enough to make the world spin, but not quite enough to knock him unconscious, and at that point Lirel's voice rang out, slurred but comprehensible. "No, enough Rasmus. We won't do this here. Manacle the elf, we are going to make an example of him." the halfman officer stated, getting to his feet carefully, wobbly. With Hayth's help, Lirel got around front of Von, so the elf could see him. "Indentured, you are charged with breaking your bonds in a most heinous fashion, taking up arms against your betters, and assaulting officers of the law. Such charges are met with death via public lashing, a sentence that shall be carried out on the morrow. This night you shall be held but we are not without mercy. Should you wish to confess or cleanse your soul, a spiritual advisor will come visit you this night. Do you wish to make such a request?"
"Fuck off, you sand-worm shite" Vondiras replied angrily, venom in his words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beliana returned to the constabulary with Von's pack and spear, both thankfully where he had stated they would be. She was fuming, having talked to Toric and his wife, getting the full story from the pair of them. As she entered the structure, she flashed her husband a look that told all. Coris turned to Daveed, willing to follow the guildmaster's lead, however he shook his head, gesturing with his hand. The dwarf nodded, rising from his seat, and snarled out. "A'right ye got ta t'e count o' ten ta get us in a room wit' t'e elf an' 'is arrestin' officers, elsewise we goin' ta consider t'is a hostile action against the Sickles."
Daveed rose here, taking a less overt, but no less threatening approach. "I second this and as Guildmaster I'll make such a declaration an official writ." He added, his voice cold, level, calm with a simple power to it, one that wasn't overt or aggressive, but was threatening in a much simpler way. Factual, a simple business promise, transactional in a way. A few of the officers milling about glanced at one another. It wasn't that these few, whom had entered the building and turned over their arms willingly were the problem. It was that threat, an armed uprising and civil disturbance of mercenaries, battle hardened killers, that was problematic.
At the back of the constabulary, with a soothing poultice pressed against his temple, Lirel even balked at this, for he knew Daveed well. The man ran a guild of killers and warriors for hire, kept them in check, under containment and honoring a code of conduct. He did this through skill at arms sure but it was so much more. He inspired loyalty by caring for his followers, and he also kept power and was a driver behind the Sickles power in general because he was ruthless, fearless, and calculating. Lirel held no illusions that the officers would struggle to kill the four people here, even Daveed, when they were unarmed. It would not be difficult at all, however it would be fruitless and foolish. For he held no illusions that no matter how they tried to play it publicly, that Daveed had insured to set up a contingency that if he did not return by dawn with at least those he'd come here with, then it was open season.
The Sickles and Kalesh's constabulary had always had a strained relationship, however in recent years, it had gotten worse, in no small part because the guild allowed its indentured too much freedom, in Lirel's eyes and in the eyes of many of his fellow officers, mostly younger hardline sorts. Lirel wracked his mind, the halfman simply was not willing to let the elf away scot-free. However he also had no doubt about what had just transpired with the return of Beliana. She'd visited that damn smith, and managed to convince him, likely offering the guild's protection, to tell her what really happened. Likely to also go public with local papers come morning should she not reach out to inform him the matter had been resolved.
That bitch and her dwarf husband had almost gotten him lashed but three weeks ago over this elf, this lesser, this indentured. Now they were here again to make his life difficult. Daveed's voice spoke again, cutting through Coris' aggressive counting, at four now, and raising his hand to silence the dwarf. "I grow tired of this, we all know the sticky situation this is. My men shall wait out here, however I will see my indentured now, and the arresting officer, all of us in one room. Or shall I formally start an injunction against the constabulary for ignoring proper procedure when arresting an indentured. Their master is to speak for them in such a case, meaning you are required by Susman law to have informed me and brought me in. I am willing to overlook this clerical error, but only if we correct it immediately."
Lirel shook his head, cursing, as he rose and strolled forward, keeping the poultice pressed to the side of his head. "Fine, Daveed, you canny bastard of a sand rat, follow me. I'll take you to your fucking indentured so that you may converse with him once more before his execution in the morning."
Daveed could tell Von's companions were ready to do something rash, he could feel Belle rising, but kept her seated with a swift glare, before turning his eyes on Lirel. "I distinctly doubt there will be any execution, officer Lirel. Now lead on."
Lirel did just that, leading Daveed down a set of stairs to the holding cells and interrogation rooms below the constabulary. The building was one of the few structures with a proper basement in Kalesh, built on a bit of land where the bedrock protruded higher, giving both a solid base for such a robust structure, and having allowed for a basement to be built. Lirel fetched Vondiras, bringing the manacled elf into one of the interrogation rooms and gruffly pushing the elf into a chair at the table. Daveed locked eyes with Vondiras, eyeing the battered and bruised elf up and down. "Tell me what happened." he told Von.
Lirel spoke up, protesting, "I've told you how events transpired, your indentured attacked lawmen without cause or justification, armed. He does not deny wielding weapons against agents of Susman law enforcement!"
Daveed glared at Lirel, a stare that felt as if the sting of a thousand scorpions, the sheer poison and venom in it. "I did not ask you." Daveed hissed, his eyes narrowing. "If I wanted you to speak, I would have spoken to you. Now silence that tongue, you will let my indentured offer me explanation." There was no verbal threat in Daveed's words, yet Lirel's blood ran cold, and a bit of fear choked him, as he went quiet."
Vondiras locked eyes with the guildmaster. The elf was a mess, his left wrist likely broken, along with at least two fingers on that hand. Ribs likely cracked, given the way he was wheezing, and the movements, or lack thereof in his chest, Daveed guessed it was the right side, and that perhaps a lung had been punctured. The right side of the elf's face was swollen, purple and black, with a black eye, busted nose, and a missing tooth or two. It was a minor miracle his jaw was not broken. Vondiras mouthed one word "Water." his voice a rasp. Daveed glared daggers at Lirel again, as he reached across the table, deftly freeing Von's hands from the manacles with a small bit of fiddling with the lock, and handed the elf a water-skin.
Vondiras drank slowly, wincing but drank deeply. Then over the next half hour or so, he explained the events, in elven, knowing Daveed could speak the tongue and that, after initial protests and another look of pure violence from Daveed, it would keep Lirel out of the conversation. Daveed leaned back in his chair, thinking and considering how events had played out, before finally replying in elven. "You will drink both of these for your hurts." he stated, sliding two smaller waterskins to Vondiras, whom quaffed them swiftly. The magick in the potions was potent and over the next twenty or thirty seconds, Von winced and grunted, feeling his body accelerating through the healing process uncomfortably. He could breath without wheezing, his ribs no longer swollen or broken, but still tender. His wrist could move again, though similarly still ached and was bruised and battered, as were his fingers. His face and head similarly recovered, the headache fading, his vision improving as the swelling went down.
Lirel rose as if to react once he realized what had just transpired, but Daveed rose too, seeming as if a violent flash of colors. No blades, no weapons, nor did he lay hands on Lirel. However the threat was obvious, as he positioned himself in front of the halfman, both hands in a ready stance. "You can be a fool, or we will step outside. He has told me his version of events, Lirel, and I must say they match up to the smithy's. You cannot move forward with his execution or do you forget a master can stand for legal trial representing his or her indentured. I do believe you are attempting to murder him via legal trickery and I shall not stand by. So this can go before tribunal, or we can step outside this room and lay our cards on the table and come to a more reasonable resolution."
Lirel threw his hands up, shaking his head in disgust. "You give these rats to much freedom and respect Daveed, you are a fool and the problem with Susma is you and others like you, whom forget those with the brand are meant to serve!" the halfman railed, however he shook his head, disgusted, defeated. "Come then, we shall discuss fucking terms."
The pair of them exited the room, Lirel lighting a pipe he'd been packing, swearing under his breath. After taking a deep pull, he turned to Daveed. "Regardless what you think the elf and damned smithy saw or experienced, the fact remains your indentured was armed, unsupervised, and a day late to be wandering into town or through town on the permissible writ you'd written him. That alone is enough for twenty lashes. But then he attacked lawmen!"
"I won't dispute any of the first part of those facts, and I am willing, without a tribunal, to issue that punishment myself, with my own hand, at the compound, with witnesses of your choosing. You yourself may attend and bear witness. We can do it tomorrow as the sun crests the walls of Kalesh and have the foul business over by mid-day. However that last bit, we both know there was more to it than that. It will be a bloody business, however my men and women are in the business of blood, guts and death. Can you say the same Lirel? Have you ever fought a gnoll hand to hand, disarmed of your weapon in a melee, and had to kill the feral beast with a rock or dagger or your bare fucking hands or your damn teeth if that's all you have? Most of my men and women have. The only reason you and your fellow officers are still alive is because Vondiras made the conscious choice to fight you disadvantageously. He could have climbed the wall and shot you all dead. He could have used the blade of his spear. He didn't, he made a conscious choice not to kill you" Daveed stated, in a cold, calm and matter-of-fact way that had Lirel shuddering involuntarily. "This could indicate, in a legal tribunal, that an argument could be made for it being a defensive measure. That he stepped in to protect a citizen, two actually for your officers struck good Toric's wife, from the abuse by officers acting and using force with mass excess. Is it a slam dunk case, of course not. However, we both know tribunals are ugly and public, is this really the road you wish to walk?"
Daveed chuckled, shaking his head. "Not to mention, we need to discuss the elephant in the room, what you and your men were doing at Toric's Arms and Foundry. I'm sure your sergeant did not sanction such behavior for your patrol. If we go to tribunal, my men and women will be guarding that family night and day, and they will testify, this I promise you." Daveed told him, his voice low, almost a hiss, venomous again. "At which point, what do you think happens to you, Officer Lirel? At minimum you'll lose your commission, more likely, knowing your sergeant, you'll be charged formally, and likely beaten and jailed, your co-conspirators with you. That is a route I am more than willing to go, as are the entirety of the guild behind me. So tell me Lirel, are we cutting a deal? Or are you going to choose the bloody path?"
Lirel cursed more loudly now, in Halish, just letting out a string of profanities, before taking a breath, a deeper pull of leshi and sighed. "Fine. Twenty lashes, in your compound tomorrow. I shall be attending." Lirel got real close to Daveed, snarling as he added, "However if I believe for even a moment you hold back with the switch, I'll shoot your precious elf dead in the street myself next chance I get. He better scream and he better bleed, heavily. If he can walk off the platform under his own power his life is forfeit are we crystal fucking clear?"
Daveed nodded, his eyes and face betraying no emotion. "You will release him to me now, and yes, I shall see it done, however then this whole matter goes away."
Lirel waited a moment, then stuck out his hand. "We have an accord." he agreed, begrudgingly. "Tomorrow then, now go and get your damned elf out of my interrogation room and out of my sight."
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Vondiras listened intently to the explanation of what was to happen as he traveled back to the Sickles compound with his friends, and Guildmaster Daveed. Silvius was waiting but a block away, and as she saw Vondiras, she ran up, nuzzling the elf happily, her tail wagging, though that happiness seemed to falter when she looked into his eyes. Vondiras felt foggy, felt like he was in a dream or nightmare. He knew he'd done the right thing, which only angered him, knowing he was to be punished. The corruption that Lirel, Hayth, and Rasmus were up to would not be ceased. Perhaps they would not target Toric and his wife again, given Daveed's declaration of protection, one Von assumed the guildmaster would honor. However they would simply target others. It was despicable corrupt behavior, not unlike the perverse nature of the poachers and food burners he'd killed many years ago when he'd rescued Silvius, at least in Von's mind. Except these individuals were supposed to be law enforcement, which only magnified the sheer heinous nature of their behaviors.
Vondiras was a hunter and a mercenary, no stranger to the violence of the world, however this felt different. This felt predatory, but in way that was foul and unnatural. As Daveed finished explaining it all to him, Vondiras spoke up, the first time he'd spoken since they'd left the constabulary, now back in the Sickles compound. "I am to be punished for standing up to corruption within law enforcement, as I understand it, Guildmaster, and I am to just bear it dutifully, correct?" he inquired coldly. "However I am to lie, before witnesses, including those I call brother and sisters in arms. I am to tell them that I am being punished for my ditzy nature and inability to keep track of time when out hunting, despite the fact that I have a reputation among them for being a skilled tracker, navigator and indeed excellent at keeping track of time when out in the wilderness. Meanwhile those three get to escape any consequences beside the bruises they have, and will continue to do this, if not to Toric, then to others. I am just supposed to accept this?"
Daveed, for all his bravado, strength, discipline, and confidence in self and ability, could not hold Vondiras' gaze. He looked away, feeling some amount of shame, despite the pragmatic reasons he'd cut the deal that he had. "Yes. That is in fact what is occurring Vondiras, you have summed it up rather poignantly, if distastefully. This is what is occurring, because it is the less extreme alternative. The other option was you would have been executed at dawn. I made the best of a poor situation that you shouldn't even be in, however you are, and thus I did the best I could."
"I understand." Vondiras replied, his voice flat, soft, cold. "Myself and Silvius are going to retire for the night. Thank-you all for your help." With that, he wordlessly moved away from his companions, Silvius at his heels, heading to the stables.
Daveed sighed, shaking his head. "Foul business, the whole thing. One of you should go talk to him, probably Belle, as your the only one with any relatability to what he is feeling right now, you both wear the brand. It is an unfortunate cultural anomaly, however it is one we must live with and work around."
Belle glanced after the elf, and nodded. "I'll go talk to him, for we have plenty to discuss. He is right though, guildmaster. I can't in good conscience say he isn't. This is pretty fucked up." With that, Belle moved off to follow Vondiras and Silvius to the stables.
Daveed turned to Beliana and Coris, addressing the pair of them as well. "The pair of you should retire as well. Its getting late, and I know you," he gestured towards Beliana, "like to wake up before the sun rises, so you may greet it in prayer. I do apologize for the dour cloud on the evening."
Coris shook his head, gripping the guildmaster forearm to forearm. "Ach, nae need f'r apologies, guildmaster. Ye did w'at was best for Von an' f'r t'e guild. It be a tough job ye 'ave, I nae envy ye in moments like t'is."
Beliana voiced her agreement with her lover, smiling at Daveed as she hugged the older man, giving him an almost fatherly response, kissing his cheek. "You do the best you can, and watch over all of us, keep us honest, and keep many of this lot out of trouble. You help provide direction and applications for their talents in force of arms that are generally a lot better and more societally and morally acceptable than the sorts of things many of them might get up to if left to their own devices. But it be a fine juggling act you do with it sometimes, and such is the price of such tricks and social navigation. Try and get some rest guildmaster."
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"Von, mind some company?" Belle called out, as she entered the stable, seeing the candle flickering in the small office and tool shed room. "I've got your pack, and your bow and spear." Silvius came out of one of the stalls, a sad look in her eyes, even with her tail wagging, as she nuzzled up to Belle's left leg. Belle leaned the spear up against a wall, before bending down to scratch the she-wolf in her special spots, her hand able to bridge the space and have a finger scratching behind each ear. The camels the guild had were accustomed enough to the smell of canine they didn't react to often to Silvius' presence, though she did hear a couple of the younger ones shifting uncomfortably in their stalls.
Vondiras' voice flowed to her, like a breeze rattling branches, his voice never able to be truly loud, such was his nature, however it was audible. "I've got a bottle of rum, found it tucked away, I know where the stable hands hide it when the nick it from the kitchens. Figure if what I did was so bad, I may as well have a few drinks, what's one more rule."
Belle moved into the small room, thankful that its roof was at least tall, and took a seat on a stool across the small table from Vondiras. "Well your going to be sharing then, cause I'm feeling a bit thirsty myself. Its a rough life we've chosen, and a rough choice we marked our flesh with."
"Rough is one way to describe it." Vondiras acknowledged. "I've had the brand only for a few months, I know you have had it for what almost a year now?" he asked.
"Be a year in just shy of two months yeah." Belle agreed, after taking a good swig of the bottle, coughing as she did. "Haven't had a drop of the harder stuff for about that long, stronger than I remember, or perhaps I've just lost some of my tolerance for it." She coughed again, pounded her chest. "Damn good stuff though. Fire, grit, palm, with hints of like a burned sugar or banana at the end. You saying the stable hands drink this stuff? Need to give the staff more credit for their tolerance clearly."
Vondiras chuckled at that, shaking his head as he took a long swig from the bottle, enjoying the burn, not even flinching, barely coughing, though he did wince. "It is good." he said with a ghost of a grin. He leaned back, shaking his head. "Why the hells are we here Belle? Beliana and Coris are good friends, I don't fault them, but why, by the Void and by all the Ascended, did we sign up for this life? Of all the places in Valerick, and I've been to my share, why here? Why subject ourselves to this?" he asked, clearly partially rambling, not necessarily expecting an answer.
Belle took the offered bottle back, drinking deep, noting how fast they were drinking the hard booze, the bottle half empty now. She thought about the questions for a few moments, considering how private all of them, all four, these so called best friends and companions, were. Outside of Coris and Beliana, whom of course knew each other intimately, the rest of them and the relationships between them were walled, limited, almost professional, despite camaraderie they shared. She leaned forward, folding her arms across her torso, just under her chest, one hand up by her head, rubbing her temple. "Those are personal questions Von, and not something we normally do." she replied, but instead of leaving it there, she continued, leaning closer to the elf. "But maybe we should."
Perhaps it was the rum, perhaps they both just needed a friend to really know them. Perhaps they simply needed a stronger connection to other people. Whatever it was, Belle first, but Von in return, the pair of them spent the better part of two or three hours swapping the stories of how they'd ended up here, in this place, in this position and with this mark they both bore. They laughed, they felt sorrow, they shared shame, and some joy. They got to know each other a lot better over those hours.
As Vondiras finished his story he leaned forward, really looking at his companion Belle for the first time. Looking beyond her titan presence and her skill and ferocity, looking at her. Belle was doing the same, they leaned in, and were simply sharing a moment. It was intimate, yet they felt no need to push it further, merely leaned in, foreheads touching, hands on the back of each other's heads. They held this position for many moments, just enjoying the company of another person, the silence together. Eventually, Belle spoke. "It would seem though different roads we both ended up here in a similar fashion. We wanted to leave our old lives and old selves behind. To build something new. Whether running from something, or simply wanderlust, we both desired change. Well change is never easy, nor is it free."
Belle pulled a little away, then kissed Vondiras on the forehead. "However to the likes of you or me, change, even taking years to get to it, with our life-spans, is no large investment. For yourself it is a drop in the ocean. If this mark and these years are the cost for a life where our skills and prowess will be respected, pay well, and find us in like minded and friendly company, its a price I will pay. Deep down I think so will you. Maybe if we both do, and come out the other side, maybe we can help drive positive change. However first must come the price. Daveed does well by us, and insures we bear very little of it compared to others with our mark. It would seem to me, the best thing you can do is play your part this time, so that later, when that brand is covered and you are an earned citizen, you can be a voice for change."
Vondiras nodded, accepting her wisdom, though he clearly did not like to admit it. "You are probably right." he told her, "I'll survive this, and I'll play the part. Tomorrow we move on from it, and with any luck, in the coming days and weeks we shall see Kalesh, and indeed Kaleshin as a whole, as she has been sold to us. The nowhere on the way to everywhere, with coin, opportunity and trade on every corner. Perhaps even garner a good contract that will see us traveling the region as mercantile escorts and guards, a chance to get away from here for a time." Von rose, a little wobbly, but managing. "Now I'm off to relax, meditate, and rest. Thanks for the company, Belle. I adore and treasure you my friend."
"And I you, Von." she replied, smiling at him, a softness in her eyes, as she rose to embrace him, before heading out of the stable, making her way back to her own quarters.
Everyone's mornings went as they normally would, though their excitement for the day, even with news that the first few mercantile escort contracts were likely going to be opened in the next day or two, did not really lighten the mood any for many of the mercenaries, even those beyond Vondiras' closest friends. It was equal parts saddening and empowering, after his night of drunken ramblings with Belle to be reminded that despite the anti-thesis of the concept, the Sickles were like some sort of dysfunctional family. Everyone from the stable hands to fellow indentured to mercenary brethren simply staying in the guest quarters, for whom this was not their home compound, they'd simply ended up this far afield on a contract, came up to him that morning. Despite the normal gruff treatment culturally citizens naturally would give an indentured, they had spoken to him, normally, civilly, friendly even. They told him that he had done exactly as he should have and as was right. Time and again he was reminded, "The Sickles are not a government funded organization and we almost never take contracts from Susma or even any of the nations individually that make up the larger Kingdom of Kingdoms. We are a guild of the people for the people. Towns, cities, farm folk, tradesmen, herdsmen, beggar or noble, merchant or innkeeper, it is the people of Susma we offer our service, and our loyalty."
He was told that he had acted well, had brought honor to the guild, that despite now having to lie about the actions, he should be proud of the acts themselves. "We are not protectors, we are mercenaries. However such acts instill confidence, and public confidence in our ethics is how the guild exists. We would cease to be without individuals such as yourself."
Vondiras knew it would hurt. He was ready for his lashing, however after the morning meal amongst his fellows, finally coming out of his introverted state a little, laughing and joking, though still reserved, his lips ever covering his teeth, a trait of his, showing reserved emotion, Guildmaster Daveed came to the table he and his companions were at. "Come, Vondiras, walk with me. I would speak privately before this," he paused trying to think of the word, "Folly, this circus. Ideally somewhere less likely to be overheard by our arriving guests."
As he stated this, Lirel and three constables entered the mess from the front doors. Daveed waved over one of the staff. "Insure Constable Lirel and his men have refreshment and prime view outside, with shade. Inform them I shall be executing the punishment within but half an hour, perhaps less. However I must first handle internal consequences of this indentured acolyte's actions." The aide nodded, running off to greet the arriving lawmen.
"Follow me," Daveed instructed, pointing to Silvius. "If she might stay, that would be ideal. What I must do will likely upset her."
Vondiras shook his head. "Silvius is smarter than you give her credit for. She understands, I promise you, every word. However she will stay, as you request. Come let us walk." Von rose smoothly, and the pair exited the mess, leaving behind the joking and laughing, moving through the outside cooking area, past it and into the gardens.
They walked for a while, and Vondiras was beginning to wonder if Daveed intended to speak, but finally the man did so. "Vondiras. I have many things to tell you in the coming months and years. I do not interact with all the new acolytes as much as I should, for being a Guildmaster comes with many duties, all of them time consuming. However I feel it is important for me to take this opportunity to tell you some things I think you need to hear." Daveed took a breath and chuckled, shaking his head "How long it has been, how much the world changes, yet it always remains the same. Be it small crossbow, flint-lock pistol, or in your case the newer wheel-lock models. Next it shall be a revolver I'm sure and then who knows. Its funny how so little yet so much can change."
Daveed stopped, turning to face the elf, and for the first time, Vondiras really looked at the man and could see the decades of life upon his skin and face. The wrinkles, the age lines, the silver trying desperately to be more visible in his hair. The old Guildmaster was known to be spry and a sparring match for men half his age, yet human he was, and Von had never seen that more clearly than this moment. "I want you to know, your actions, despite the consequences, showed courage, showed spirit, and showed exactly the type of leadership and determination we value. You wore your affiliation well yesterday, the only affiliation that matters, for unlike the one you are to be punished because of this day, the affiliation here, with the Sickles, it is permanent, should you wish it to be."
Daveed smiled, his eyes clearly not just focused on Vondiras, but his mind also walking memories. "You are not the first to necessitate such a farce, nor will you be the last." he chuckled, shaking his head. "Would you believe me if I said it might be a mark of greatness about you. I know of the previous two. One lost two fingers on his left hand, a small price to pay for saving an indentured woman from a lecherous would be master who intended great evil. The other, similar to yourself, some thirty-seven or so years ago, near the end of their indentured period, had an ear taken for slandering a noble whom had been using his indentured in dark and cult-like activities. In the end, they'd both be validated, though it took years. The lecher was stabbed to death by a prostitute he tried to take advantage of whom was armed and ready. The nobleman was later found out by the Dicemen for engaging in Void worship and executed."
Daveed paused, shrugging, thinking back, clearly, on old memories. "Both these instances took years from the time those indentured were maimed or punished, they paid a blood price due to station, unfairly so, for alerting people, and their fellow guild-mates, to these abuses. In both cases, directly or indirectly, the Sickles had a hand in righting the wrong in due time. That prostitute, she was not a prostitute, though at one point she had been. She was one of ours. The Dicemen, they did not oppose that noble alone, they hired two groups of us to join them in the raid of the noble's compound and cult gatherings, in case of resistance, which they did meet. In both cases the guild or the authorities whom stepped in only had reason to be wary or to investigate because of the ripples of one indentured whom simply refused to back down against something they knew was an abuse of authority and power."
Vondiras nodded, as he stood with the man, taking in the story and trying to decipher its points. "You mentioned a mark of greatness, how do you mean?" Vondiras inquired, a bit confused, for the story had not really made clear whom he was being compared too. "What became of these two individuals?"
Daveed chuckled, his hands peeling back some of his shawls and thin hoods revealing more of his head, which he tilted, letting Vondiras get a brief look at him beyond a frontal view of his face. Vondiras started laughing then, a soft, wind like sound, smiling wide, baring his teeth instead of hiding them with his lips. "That is perhaps the highest compliment anyone has ever paid me Guildmaster, and I shall accept it graciously and humbly, for I do not know how I would even begin to protest it." Vondiras shook his head, finding great joy in that moment of revealing, of peeling back a bit of the mystery and myth around the figure that was Daveed. For Guildmaster Daveed was missing his right ear, naught but a vicious and unsightly scar left where it had once been.
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"You stand charged with breaching your permissible excursion time frame with the documents you were granted, as well as being armed whilst wondering the city proper past curfew!" Daveed announced, over the jeering and cursing of the mercenaries gathered to watch. They all knew their role, none threatened the lawmen, but they all made sure to make their disapproval loud and hard to miss. Daveed continued, his voice again, the sheer respect he commanded, cutting through the noise. "The sentence for this is twenty lashes, a punishment I choose not to challenge, as I find I must agree with the charges! I issued that permissive writ myself, and you were indeed a day late, with no justification or excuse. So it is my unpleasant but necessary duty to administer proper discipline and punishment!" Daveed called out, choosing to throw his own subtle barb here, refusing to call it justice. "Divulge yourself of your armor, tunic and bow, Vondiras Scavi-il, and present your back. Take into your mouth one of the thick leather bindings or palm limbs, and bite down so as not to bite off your own tongue. Finally, know that what I do now I do out of necessity and to teach discipline and respect, not out of hate or cruelty."
Vondiras did as Daveed had coached him, speaking up as loud as he could, his voice as always somewhat discordant. "I admit and accept these transgressions, and my failings in committing them, and I welcome appropriate discipline as the learning experience it shall be." he stated, though the whole time he said it, his grey empty eyes were boring a hole in Lirel's skull. He stripped down as he was bid, taking a thick palm limb into his mouth, clamping down on it hard, and arched his back, nodding to Daveed.
The Guildmaster moved back behind Vondiras, the coiled bullwhip in hand, and uncoiled it. Twenty lashes was an extreme punishment, most toughened men could perhaps withstand twenty-five or thirty before passing out from the pain, and some of those died. However Daveed had no options but to honor the order, and so with a whispered prayer to Tomain to provide Von at least a little luck this day, he raised his hand and laid into Vondiras' back.
The first strike, Vondiras even as ready as he was, felt keenly, and though he did not flinch or scream, he felt the welt and the slow trickle of blood, and bit down hard on the palm limb, feeling his teeth actually indent the solid timber. By the fifth, he was constantly groaning, by the eighth, a muffled scream tore out of his lungs. By the twelfth strike his back was soaked in blood, with lash lines unable to be differentiated on color from the rest of his back, all of it was crimson. Each strike elicited a pained, but also enraged sound that was torn in primal fury from his lungs. By the fifteenth his legs buckled and the palm limb snapped, cutting the roof of his mouth.
Swiftly one of the aides got a thick leather throng into his mouth, which Vondiras was thankful for. The sixteenth had him straining against the ropes tied to his wrists to hold him still, he could feel them tearing, though the thick ropes would not snap any time soon. By the eighteenth, he wanted to collapse, but could not, forced to stay standing by the ropes holding tight to his wrists. Vondiras was unsure if it was the nineteenth or twentieth that caused him to black out and pass out from the pain, however regardless of which it was, mercifully it all went black, and he collapsed, or slumped as far as his body could, held upright by his bindings.
Daveed kept grip on the whip, walking to the edge of the platform he was on, staring at Lirel and the other officers. They conferred for a moment, pointing, chuckling, seeming to simply be joking about and entertaining each other, much to Daveed's disgust. However finally Lirel rose and smiled at the guildmaster, "I find this suitable and believe our bargain handled and paid, and justice to be served. You truly did not spare the lash, and for that I commend you, though it might kill him in the end. That is a lot of blood, and with that many open wounds, infection seems all but guaranteed." Lirel chuckled, shaking his head, "However perhaps the elf will be stubborn enough to live, or perhaps you'll waste precious medicines and magicks on an indentured, basically a slave. Either way, that is not any concern of mine. Our business is concluded, justice has been served and I am satisfied with the result." Lirel waved to the two staff, waiting by Vondiras anxiously. "You may cut him down and tend to him however you all deem fit. He has served his punishment and bore it with no muss or fuss. Perhaps his only redeeming quality."
Lirel and his fellow officers rose then, moving swiftly and in orderly fashion across the compound to the gates that would take them onto Waterside Road. Daveed watched them go, disgusted with them, however his sour mood swiftly shifted as he watched his men and women. The thirty or so of them that had been in attendance, counting even five whom he had not trained and brought into the Sickles himself, immediately springing into action. Several rushed off to collect various things Beliana was asking for to clean and treat his back, others swiftly tied garments they were wearing, outer layers together to make a litter, grabbing weapons and poles to make a litter to carry him, to keep sand and dirt from his wounds as best they could. Others still ran ahead to prepare a proper bed, Belle volunteering her quarters. Everyone found a role, direct or indirect. Two of the mercenaries took up his weapons and armor, having found the key round his neck to the locker in the stable and moved off to lock them up for him. Others headed to the kitchen, yelling orders to the staff to prepare water and two or three other things Beliana had requested.
Daveed rolled up his own left sleeve, revealing his brands. Sickle, Guildmaster, and of course, below them all, the accursed 'X' with the sunburst overlaid it. As he watched the scene unfold, he sighed, whispering to himself with a small grin dancing about his lips, in spite of the foul business of it all. "A steep price, but always there are reminders of why it was worth the paying."
