The Battle for Sothrend

DATE: IMMORTAL REIGN 1023 MONTH 5 DAY 29

Disarmed and tied to a tree with garash chains, Cabron kept his defiant grin. At one point, Ruxian feared Naya would gut the man when he offered to teach her the wonders of womanly pleasures. The Blackmoons, disgust carved into their youthful faces, faded into the darkness.

“I don’t mind the horns,” shouted Cabron, laughing. “I quite like the taste of exotic cuisine!”

Before Dramien could mete out the punishment, Susie’s fists flew. Her strength, equal to any hammer-wielding templar, dislodged a tooth. Cabron spat and shook his head.

“Sister Susie,” he greeted with a silly grin. “I liked you better as a temptress than a nun.”

Susie revealed her pair of scissors and snipped it twice. While Almerynd never disarmed Susie, she hadn’t touched the weapon in some time. She thanked the Goddess for having sent the Dracons away. It felt – wrong – to bare this instrument before the horned folks.

“To think our captain and nun consorting with demons,” said Cabron. “I do believe the Immortal Reign is coming to an end.”

Tugging at her collar, Susie took a deep breath. It was strange. All the things she meant to say, all the questions she wanted answered, but now she could not find the words. Could she still be afraid of this man? Her shaking hands seemed to think so.

“Logram…” she repeated the word as if talking to herself. “Logram…”

Cabron lifted his brows. “Where’d you even hear that name?”

“Answer me,” hissed Susie. “Was it fun?”

“Goddess my witness,” Cabron replied, his lips curving into a crooked smile. “You are a survivor!”

Susie opened her scissors. Made for cutting Dracon horns, the blades severed a finger with a crisp snip. Cabron, thrashing against the chains, gnashed his teeth to refrain from screaming as blood streamed down his legs. Eyes wide, his breathing became short and shallow.

“Answer the question,” said Susie. “Was it fun?”

“Goddess my witness,” Cabron wheezed. “I was just following orders.”

A demonic fury contorted Susie’s face. “Did your orders include you on top of my mother?”

“Goddess my witness,” Cabron muttered, leaning forward. “You do look alike –”

Susie squeezed her scissors again. This time, Cabron broke and squealed. Burying her face into her palm, the nun uttered a curt prayer. The screaming and writhing reminded her too much of the Dracon children she operated on.

Susie. Ruxian called out, his mass a frightened grey. I think you should stop.

“Please don’t fret over me,” said Susie. “I have done you far greater harm than the Goddess will ever forgive.”

I’d be lying if I said I’m fine with it. Ruxian projected a sighing emote. But this isn’t about me. Stop hurting yourself.

“Thank you,” replied Susie, smiling. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

Ruxian made a hasty departure and joined his companions. Her simmering rage was a whirlpool, threatening to drag him into a bottomless void. Given the amount of screaming, he was glad he didn’t see what happened.

“What’s she doing?” asked Lyrica.

Naya covered her mouth. “I-I didn’t even know people could make such sounds.”

Dramien shuffled about, his jaw taut. A couple of the Blackmoon girls threw up. And then, silence. Susie came back shortly, shoulders hunched, trembling, teary, and soaked in slaughter. With a reverent bow, she handed Naya back her garash.

“I wiped it down,” said Susie. “Sorry I couldn’t clean it properly. May I have a change of clothes?”

“You got the wrong girl,” replied Lyrica. “Pigslayer doesn’t share your physique.”

“Funny,” growled Naya. “Just get ready. We have a town to take.”

The cavalry had assembled at the southern gate, their ranks infested with nervous whispers. Dramien rode ahead, shrugged off the abuse, and dismounted. Firm and controlled, he drove his spear into the earth and revealed the golden Targonian ring he took from Cabron. Immediately, the soldiers sheathed their blades and lowered their bows.

"I owe you good men an explanation,” began Dramien. “I have not conspired with rogue heroes to assassinate His Highness. That is false.

“However, it is true that I have consorted with Dracons and a demon. After learning the secrets of the heroes, and worse yet, Logram, I can no longer wield my spear for the Eternal Empire.

“I have proudly defended these borders alongside the 42nd Cavalry. I will not test your loyalties. All I ask is that you stand down. My quarrel is with the church that has taken my wife. If Logram was a lesson, Targonians should never turn their blades on Targonians. I will not have brothers killing each other.”

Confusion spread amongst the gathering. Their eyes darted between Dramien and the Dracons while sweaty hands fidgeted with weapons. Then, a greying rider dismounted and mimicked Dramien, punched his spear into the dirt with a hefty thud. The veteran rolled up his sleeve, revealing the tattoo of 42 on his shoulder, struck a stiff salute, and walked away. This first desertion triggered an avalanche of arms as the men disarmed and turned around. Within moments, there was no one guarding the gates.

You’re something else. Ruxian felt the weight of tension lifted off his body. I’d have slept till next week trying to hypnotise that many.

“Only a small victory,” said Dramien grimly. “Lucius is a skilled mage. He can still be a threat if his cowardice doesn’t get the best of him.”

“I don’t know why the Goddess blessed him with enough talent to attain sainthood,” added Susie. “He was always more concerned with luring local girls into his bedchamber.”

That’s just one more crime he’ll have to pay for. Ruxian glowed a bloody red. Naya, you good on your end? Curious, Ruxian extended a phantom limb towards the black barrier surrounding Sothrend. Cold and solid, the enchanted wall refused to budge despite his best efforts.

“We may be a while,” replied Naya. “This little piggy is slippery.”

“The barrier repaired itself,” observed Lyrica. “Pretty sure Mother Blackmoon has something similar guarding our temples.”

Naya leaned forward, examining the talisman. “Forget destroying it,” she said, sticking a blade into the enchanted paper. “Just open it long enough for Ruxian to get inside.”

Sticking their blades into the charms, the Dracons pried a hole in the dark walls for Ruxian to squeeze through. The hypnotist found no falling hammer or crackling spells waiting to vaporise his shapeless body. Had he not spotted curious children peeking out of windows, he’d have thought the town empty.

“Skilled mage he may be,” sniggered Naya, “but he’s also a very poor commander. Did he honestly expect your men to defend his position?”

“He may only have the courage of a mouse,” said Dramien, “but he still has at least five times our forces.”

Lyrica glared at him. “Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before disbanding your unit.”

Worry not. Ruxian spread his body until he towered over the buildings. My approach to war is much less principled.