Ale, with milk on the side (syndicate mission)

[Beauty]

((Closed))


Slave skipped slightly ahead of her Master, stopping every now and then to pick a pretty flower. Several steps behind her, Lord Gregory Carth walked arm in arm with the beautiful Lady Venus Aphrodite Taraguan, his current love interest. The noble couple chatted quietly amongst themselves, rarely looking up to be sure that Slave was still nearby.

Though dressed in fine silks and practically oozing wealth to any watching thieves, neither had any worries about being attacked. Half a dozen men drifted through the trees on either side of them, almost completely invisible. Another 6 men waited back at the luxurious inn they had taken rooms in. Among the men with them was Captain Halding, one of Lord Carth’s most trusted men.

Slave hummed softly to herself as she stopped to pick yet another flower and add it to her sizeable collection. This one was blue with hairline yellow stripes down the center of its petals. Her long brown hair made a small pool of chocolate around her feet, then flowed out behind her as she moved on again. She did not understand the changes that had come over Master over the last two or three months, but she had noticed that he was much nicer than he used to be.

“Slave!”

The young woman stopped immediately, turned, and ran back to her Master. She gave Lord and Lady each a wobbly curtsy, then stood still, her eyes on the ground. “Master called for Slave?”

“Yes. I want you to go ahead of us back to the inn. Tell the keeper that I want my dinner to be served outdoors tonight. You are to help him in whatever ways he deems necessary. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master. Slave is to tell the innkeeper that Master wants dinner outside and she is also to ask him if she can help.”

“Very good, run along now. Halding, go with her. See to it that she gets there safely.”

Halding saluted then ran after Slave who had dropped her flowers by the road and begun running back to the inn, eager to please her Master.

[Damian]

Damian’s two-toned eyes scanned the Akashima countryside. Lush rolling drumlins covered with trees and large amounts of thick brush occupied most of the vast horizon. The white haired man was a hour or so early for his rendezvous with his “partner,” whoever it is.

A few days ago Damian received a message from Veg. Veg is an agent of sorts, he finds shady underground jobs for Damian and sends cryptic messages discussing the mission at hand. These messages come coded as love letters (which Damian hates the most), instruction manuals, and the most recent one a cooking recipe:

Dear loyal consumer,
We thought that you would be interested in this Hot Merchandise cooking recipe tip. As you already know; all fine meals start with some eggs. And the finest eggs only come from Akashima chickens. For a hearty meal always use six eggs. But that will not get you through the entire day alone. No sir or madam. You need a hearty serving of six chicken legs to go with those eggs. And of course the best chickens come from Akashima. How can I tell which chickens are the best, you ask. Well that’s easy. The best chickens have 13-15 feathers of plumage on their chest; in fact it’s the only chicken worth using. Thank you loyal consumer and remember this meal is synsentional.

“Over the top as always,” Damian crumpled up the paper and burned it after he decipher its code. He also received another note from Veg plainly stated that he will have a partner on this mission. The rendezvous will be five miles after the border from the Underwood road leading there.

So Damian now seated atop a small knoll just off the roadway to leads into the Akashima territory. The caged beast inside of his head, the curse that plagues Damian, lies down in its conscious prison and awaits the far off action.

In the distance, he heard the first signs of life since he crossed over the border. The soft crunch of the forest's underbrush being crushed under someone's step caressed the man's ear. Damian pushed himself up with a small grunt and walked into the middle of the road to see if this newcomer is his partner.

Well, let's begin.

[Nymph and Dragon]

“That is him, isn't it?”

The nymph murmured the question almost inaudibly, but even though her companion was telepathic she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t get an answer. Her eyes were focused on the man who had been sitting on the hill before her, who was now standing in the middle of the road in the path of oncoming traffic. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she stared questioningly across the grassy land that separated her from the object of her scrutiny. She stood in the shadows of a brush-choked copse, so enshrouded by shrubbery that the gentle breezes that floated in the late-afternoon sunshine didn’t so much as flutter the purple cloak around her shoulders.

It hadn't been her intention to arrive early, but the trip from her inn had taken less time than expected, especially since she'd gone "the back way" through the forests and fields behind the establishment. She'd been surprised to find that he was already there and had decided to take advantage of the time to scout him out for unusual behaviors that she might have to be wary of. As it was, the man hadn't done anything that made her overly suspicious, and since the appointed hour was approaching, she decided that it was probably time to make her presence known.

Twyla let her eyes trail down, to rest for an instant on the gleaming scales of the two-foot long dragon at her side. The water Elemental was in its solid form as a sinuous snake-like creature with short limbs and a forked tail. Its teeth weren’t bared, but at her glance the dragon’s faceted crimson eyes met hers in a glare that mirrored the disapproval and near-hostility that had been rolling across their mental link since earlier that morning.

Twyla returned her gaze to the man who was about a hundred feet away from her, her lips curling into a smirk. She knew why the dragon was mad at her, and the complete lack of repentance with which she was functioning only made her relish its displeasure all the more. As far as she was concerned, the Elemental could pout for the rest of its sorry life, so long as it didn’t do anything to get in the way of her mission.

My mission. The acknowledgment made her frown. Even though she had agreed to do this out of a delight in lording over humanity, it still rankled severely to know that her efforts would be benefiting even a few of the race that was so unworthy of her aid. But the job description had been too intriguing to pass up, and now here she was, about to meet the man with whom she was to work. He looked human from a distance, and the observation made her sigh in resignation. But what could she expect? Even the most beautiful coral reefs had a few electric eels. She unfolded her arms and pulled the hood of her purple cloak over her hair, straightening her shoulders as she prepared herself to step out.

The dragon’s voice slid into her mind. Twyla, please reconsider.

“Oh, look,” she remarked astringently, “the pain in the ass has decided to ruin my day after all.”

What you’re doing is wrong. The conviction in his voice was backed up by the strong sense of opposition that he sent across their bond, but Twlya sent back her amusement in a gloating wave.

“Thanks, viper, but I already have a conscience. Tag along if you must, but shut the hell up and stay out of my way.”

Not waiting for further debate, the nymph lifted the hem of her robe and left the shadows of the trees, letting her skirt fall again as she made her way languidly towards the man. At first the Elemental remained in the brush, staring with helpless anger after the nymph. She had only gone fifteen feet when he darted across the grass after her, following in solid dragon form through the untrimmed grass. It was paradoxical, that the one who had freed him from slavery was now forcing him to help in the enslavement of others, but the irony did nothing to lift his spirits as they made their way towards the man.

[Corvus MacCallum]

A clawed finger, covered mainly by a coat of black fur was brought up into the air, moisture clinging at its surface, one of those simple little tricks to get a very rough guesstimation of wind speed and direction.

Guesstimation... I like that word

In the startlingly ample daylight provided by this little area of greenery and shrubbery an act of delightful idiocy was about to be performed and the fanged grin planted upon the doers face just promised it would be killer.

"The time is-"

Errraggle...

"Lunch, for what am I about to do Fenrir... please let it be truly mad"

He was not a wasteful individual, nor one prone to such excesses caused by boredom, but things had been serious lately and standard fare... in a way this would be a far faster version of running through puddles when a kid or rushing through groups of birds... with any luck. This was Magden hill, a huge hurdle to traders leaving the area mainly due to its steepness, only two paths were really managable to casual travellers and they had worked out pully systems with carts in order to get folks up and down with ease. For this experiment Corvus had also developed a fun system with a rope, though this was merely to keep him relatively attached... what he stared down at from his position on the crest of Magden hill was akin to a slightly smoother cliff face, if you jumped it would be a mostly sheer drop for about ten feet. This Highlander was not going to make use of the pulley system, nor was he going to scramble down it with an uneven running gait... oh no, he was in possession of a frail wooden cart, had been for some time and was sick and tired of leaving it off at taverns and trader camps when he had to get stuck into the wilds.

He gave one last look at the sheer drop ahead of him and prepared for launch, he had gotten three ropes, two were strapped diagonally across the floor of the cart with another strapped at the front allowing a nice reign type system that would keep him from simply coming off due to the speed. A few kicks to release the blocks and then the Wolf-man jumped up onto the cart, his form teetering back and forth as it shifted with his weight... before getting to his central position, a quick little bending of the knees and..

Thunk

His extra special safety iron back-rest was lodged in relatively securely, next came the ropes, just some simple tugging and foot-lifting needed for those... now the tricky and dumb part, because this was such a good idea after all, getting enough forward force to send this hurtling... oh

"WHOOOOHOOOOOOOO!"

Apparently he had a knack for shifting it.

Howling and whooping came something that moved faster than owl shit after an all night curry and moving on an oiled up cliff, he was enjoying this just far too much to lose the huge grin on his face despite having to correct the balance of his cart at nearly every bump and stone hit. As he streaked down the hill, in a fine impersonation of a coward coming face to face with a demon lord, Corvus couldn't help but notice the rapidly approaching inn and its other piddly little buildings that were not remaining piddly, in fact one would say that as he drew closer they took on the form of a gigantic brake. As he hurtled past a set of very enthralled lovers, who noticed nothing but a strong breeze... it almost seemed... well that the buildings had been arranged in a specific pattern, that pattern was...

"Whoa nelly!"

Some synapse speed pondering and the Highlander came to the conclusion that he did have brakes, however troubling it might be to make them work. Quickly he popped the edge of that sword from the wooden floor of the cart and shifted back, his weight causing the back end to reach down for the ground, he sped this up with some powerful tugging on the front reigns. What had been a relatively bumpy ride now felt like a bee-line version of a sea squall, every moment he spend on that cart it felt ready to break apart, thankfully the paved path prevented him from tearing a huge divet in the ground but this was only a good thing for the people who lived in this area... was a fucking pain in the ass for Corvus.

"Grip ye bassa!... ah sed grip!"

There was a stone wall about five minutes walk in front of him and Corvus had only a split second to decide his course of action if that did not remain where it was. His claws caught at the ropes strapped over each shoulder, quickly doing away with them, his hands coming free of the reigns, sweeping up to his shoulders and gripping that massive blade. His tug released the monstrous weapon from its shackles and with a leap he came free of the doomed cart, there was still a lot of momentum built up around his body thanks to that intense burst of speed caused by the best form of recklessness.

With his own form coming towards the ground at a relatively break-leg speed he smashed that slab of iron into the soil, a quick tilt and it began slicing into the earth though certainly not with ease and this was what he needed, a nice good, solid anchor to kill his speed without killing him. The only buggering detail was that he hadn't been able to see, or hear the cart break itself into kindling, it had made an unnoticable impact on the stone wall only a few seconds after Corvus lept.

With a suprisingly easy removal of his sword the Highlander planted it back against him and stared at the wreckage.

"Damn... thought the fragments would be smaller"

[Beauty]

Slave arrived at the large inn with Halding right behind her. Panting heavily, she slowed to a walk and began looking around for the innkeeper. Spotting him at last, the young woman approached him meekly, waiting until he was done talking to a customer before saying her piece.

“Mr. Innkeeper?” she asked, and waited until she was sure she had his attention before continuing, “My master, Lord Carth, wishes to have his dinner served outdoors tonight. He said that I am to help you accomplish this in any way you see fit.”

The stout innkeeper stared at her for a moment, then threw his hands up in disgust. He peered at Captain Halding, not bothering to hide his agitation at this outrageous request. “I suppose you’re to help as well?”

“Actually, sir, I’m just here to make sure she stays safe. Lord Carth would be very displeased should anything untoward happen to his slave. However, I will help, if I can.”

Glowering and muttering darkly to himself, the innkeeper beckoned to them to follow him. His inn was large and often catered to the more wealthy travelers. Lord Carth had paid for the use of the entire top floor of his three-story inn. The top floor was used entirely by two very large suites. Lord Carth had taken one for himself and his soldiers, the other was for his ladyfriend, Lady Venus. Why on Althanas the young couple couldn’t have shared a suite was beyond the innkeeper, but he was not about to object when the lord was paying so well. Still muttering to himself, he finally led them to the back of the inn. Unlike most other inns, this one opened at the back onto wide fields of grass. There were few trees and the sun setting behind the low hills ahead of them would be a magnificent sight to see.

“In that shed over there are extra tables. Get one and put over here,” he instructed Halding. “You, little miss, come with me and I will find a cart to put the dishes, table cloth and other such things on. I trust you know how to set a table?” At her nod, he continued, “Good, I think the cook is preparing roast beef tonight, I hope that is to your lord’s liking, because she’s not likely to fix him a special meal.”

Slave followed wordlessly, while Halding pulled the extra table out of the shed. He also found there were extra chairs in there. Once the table was upright, he returned for two chairs, placing them at opposite sides of the small, round table. He had barely finished that when Slave returned pushing a cart laden with dishes, silverware, glasses, a tablecloth and candles.

“Captain Halding, will you help Slave? She’s not exactly sure how to do this.”

The captain could barely suppress a smile as he nodded. “Get the tablecloth first and I’ll help you make sure it’s straight.”

Several minutes later, Slave stood to one side and smiled, quite proud of herself. The captain had not needed to give much instruction. She had set up the whole thing nearly by herself. Before them stood a small table, covered with a dark green tablecloth. The plates were china with a silver line running around the outer edge. Napkins and silverware that gleamed sat in their proper places and in the exact center two, tall, white candles stood, waiting to be lit.

“Did Slave do a good job?”

“Yes,” Halding smiled, “you did very well. Let’s go up front and watch for Lord Carth now.”

Eagerly, the young woman went to the front lobby area. Halding followed. Half an hour later, Slave excited told her master that a table was waiting for him and Lady Venus. Smiling inwardly, the young lord followed his slave with his lady on his arm. A short time later, Slave was beaming as she went up to her master’s suite. He had given orders for her to be given a meal there and told her not to stay up too late. He was very pleased with how well she had carried out her instructions and was inclined to let her have the rest of the evening to herself.

[Nymph and Dragon]

“Ah, the lady has arrived, and she's right on time, too. How unusual for such an epitome of the weaker sex.”

Twyla stopped walking at the edge of the street, arching one brow as she eyed the jauntily-standing man in the middle of the road. He was dressed in rich silks, carried a thin sword on each hip, and was fingering one of his mustaches with gloved fingers. His mouth was quirked in a leer that matched his glinting eyes for lasciviousness as they roamed her figure.

“You should be more thankful that you're unimpressive enough not to deserve my anger,” she replied coolly.

The man grinned and walked towards her, his polished boots squeaking with every step. “Oh yes, this assignment will most certainly be one of my most pleasant one, if for naught else but the pleasure of the company of my partner.”

Twyla repressed a shudder. Why were men so stupid?

“Don’t get your hopes up on the part about being in my presence,” she said in a brisk tone. “I don’t plan to spend any more time with you than is absolutely necessary.”

“But, my dear, it is necessary if we are to accomplish the task for which we have assembled, no?” The closer her got, the better Twyla could tell that his eyes- beneath the forefront layer of lust- had a steely certainty that implied that he possibly wasn’t as shallow as he was pretending to be.

“Assuming we’re here for the same task, Sir . . .?”

“Call me Incubus,” he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m in the business of involuntary servitude.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Twyla asked mildly, glancing down the road. She didn’t expect to see anyone – their meeting place was supposed to have been situated in a relatively isolated location – but she still didn’t like how out in the open their little rendez-vous was. Why not meet in a dark alley, or in the back of a seedy tavern? That’s what most humans engaging in illegal activity would have wanted.

Is there something shady going on?

The Elemental didn’t even flick his tail in acknowledgement of her question. He was in the grass beside her, unnoticed by the man whose eyes were fixed appreciatively on the nymph.

“Well, I could have said that I facilitate the exchange of ownership of human flesh, but that certainly isn’t an appropriate phrasing for such a lady as yourself.” He tilted his head to the side, eying her appraisingly from beneath manicured brows. “Forgive me if this seems rude, but may I ask after the mask? I would dismiss it as a fashion statement, but it seems to obscure more than it accents. Religious, perhaps?”

Twyla resisted the urge to reach up and touch the pink scarf across her face. She didn’t need to reassure herself of its presence, the man would be a slavering ball of uncontrollable lust if it were askew.

“Social mercy,” she replied in a clipped voice. “I was in a terrible fire as a child and cover my gruesome scars to save the general public from the hideousness of my features.”

It was a lie she’d used only once before, and though her audience then had been less than believing, for some reason she had a certain fondness for it.

“Ah,” Incubus nodded sagely. “It must have been the gods’ justice, to temper such an attractive figure with a cursed face.”

Twyla smiled behind her mask. If only you knew.

“But enough with the pleasantries, we have much work to do.” Incubus clapped his hands together and clasped them at his waist like a little girl in a choir. “Have you the specifications for the order?”

Twyla nodded. “We need twelve; six men, six women, all between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, preferably from Akashima. We’ll be meeting the traders at midnight in three days, at a warehouse in a little riverside town called Hajur, about ten miles west of where we are now.”

Incubus smiled. “Very good. You seem to have quite the memory for details, my lady.”

“Call me Twyla.” His mocking sycophantism was starting to get on her nerves.

“Twyla, then. And how old are you?”

Twyla frowned. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Not as irrelevant as you might think, my lady.” His eyes moved from her face to a spot just over her shoulder, and the next thing Twyla knew her back was pressed hard against a warm, solid surface, an arm was clamped around her waist, and a thin blade was pressed against the front of her neck. Twyla was too shocked to react. She froze, her eyes still fixed in Incubus, who was rocking on his heels with a maliciously pleased expression on his face.

“Now, how old did you say you were?”

Why couldn’t you see him coming? She wasn’t ready to speak aloud, but she shrieked the question telepathically into the Elemental’s mind.

I did. His voice was cold, completely and unprecedentedly devoid of emotion.

You LET him touch me? Rage boiled in her throat as she choked back a scream. If he kills me, you’ll die too!

It might be worth it, he answered solemnly, to keep from having to do this.

You bastard! You stole my soul and ruined my life and now you’re interfering in MY business?

Twyla, your business IS my business! You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stand by and let you use the life we were given to ruin others.

Every swallow made her throat press against the blade, and every touch of the iron against her skin was like a fiery brand. She was too scared to struggle against the hold, too terrified that he would drive that poisonous knife into her flesh. Something snapped in the nymph’s control, and a deluge of hatred and anger poured across their link, flooding the dragon’s mind with the intensity of her emotions. You’ve already ruined my life! I hate you more than anything else in the world! You don't have to like what I do, but it is MY life, and I sure as hell am going to live it however I want.

Please, Twyla, think, he pleaded. You don't even know your own reasons for doing this!

Stay the hell out of my head! I don’t need your approval. You don’t have to help me catch the slaves, all you’re needed for is to keep me alive. Do that, and don't worry about how I blacken my soul.

OUR soul.

MINE.

For a moment, the dragon was silent, the barrier that kept her from knowing his thoughts strengthening against the malice that poured from her mind. Then Twyla felt something change in the tension of their link, a surrender that took the nymph by surprise.

They won’t hurt you, the dragon promised in a defeated voice. I won't help you, but I won’t let them hurt you.

"Oh, just let her go," Incubus said with a wave of one hand. "I don't think she thinks this is as funny as we do."

The burn at her throat suddenly disappeared as the knife was pulled away from her. The arm around her waist released her, and Twyla quickly stepped forward and turned to look at the man behind her. He was dressed completely in black and had a face that could have been carved from marble. He carried no visible weapons, but the knife he’d had pressed against her neck was gone, undoubtedly shoved into one of many hidden sheaths somewhere on his person.

Incubus’s shook his head and sighed with feigned disappointment. “Twyla, Twyla. You've already made several potentially deady mistakes. In this line of work, you have to be on your toes constantly. Firstly, never reveal all the cards in your hand at one time. You destroyed your role as 'informant' by telling me eveything I needed to know, and if I were a greedy scumbag I might have slit your throat and just gotten all the slaves and payment myself. Secondly, you should never assume that a man standing by himself is actually alone.”

Twyla scowled and stepped to the side so that she could see both men at once, cursing herself for not even considering the possibility of a trap. "I hadn't realized you were so bloodthirsty and stupid that you'd kill a partner before she'd even done the work she was hired for."

The black-clad man didn't move, but Incubus chuckled heartily.

“Oh, don’t be so stiff, Twyla, that was all just a joke! My friend Alcor here has quite the unconventional sense of humor, that's all. We need your contribution as surely as we need sugary cakes to lure the little girls.”

“We only have three days. There’s no time for chatting.” Alcor spoke in a raspy, condescending voice with a strange accent that Twyla had never heard before.

“Yes, yes, let’s get going,” Incubus agreed. “Here’s the plan. There's a rather stately manor in town that has a very sturdily-reinforced cellar whose owner has recently fallen under some hard circumstances. It will suffice for a holding cell. I will take care of any logistical matters that arise and make sure that the slaves that are captured stay captured.”

“I will find six men,” Alcor put in.

Twyla firmly shook her head. “I’ll take care of the men. You can get the girls.”

Alcor sneered and parted his thin lips to speak, but Incubus raised one hand towards each of them in a conciliatory gesture.

“Now, now, children, we're working together, remember? Let’s just make this fair and let each of us get our fair share; two boys and two girls from my Salvaric friend, two boys and two girls from the scarred seductress, and two of each from yours truly. Manageable?”

The nymph and Alcor gave him curt nods.

“Good deal, then,” Incubus said cheerfully. “And what better motivation than a friendly competition? First one to get all four in gets fifty gold from the other two. What d'ya say?”

Twyla scowled at the man who’d threatened her life, wishing she could shoot daggers out of her eyes to impale his putrescent carcass against the ground. Filthy human.

The man met her eyes with unaffected calm, giving a quick shrug while not breaking his eyes away from Twyla's.

It would have been better if they could have wagered something of more value - a limb, perhaps - so that she could have more enjoyment when she took it from the lout who had dared to lay a finger on her.

"You're on," she snapped.