Bill turned the makeshift spit over the fire as the crudely butchered hunks of venison sizzled, filling the cave with a mouth-watering aroma. Not much of a chef, and being limited to the single ingredient of meat, he'd decided on simple venison shish kabobs. He readied another short sword, sliding chunks of deer flesh down its length before sprinkling a pinch of salt, courtesy of the Late Lord Flavius.
The deceased man's saddlebags had been stuffed full of everything a noble crusader on the go might require. While stealing back his multi-tool Bill had found all sorts of useful odds and ends to make his life more comfortable, looting them with mercenary glee. Besides the package of salt, there had been shaving supplies and even an ivory comb. Bill could hardly contain himself from holding Rekka down right then and taming that unruly mess she called a hairstyle.
The straight razor had him a bit worried, but he didn't dare ask Rekka to assist. He'd lost enough blood from that damnable bolt. The small bar of soap had been cause for celebration on his part, and no matter how Rekka said she enjoyed his scent he was sure she'd change her mind given a few more days of camping. He'd tackle their grooming needs after lunch, likely literally in Rekka's case. She had not seemed enthusiastic when he'd showed her the comb.
Aside from quality of life contrivances, there had been the Huntstone. He'd examined it a bit and found it was more than just a crystal. There was a cleverly worked silver dial on one end with symbols he couldn't understand etched onto it. He guessed they were numerals, not being long enough for words unless the written language of this world was a lot odder than his own. Unfortunately, whatever strange magic allowed him to understand the spoken language it apparently did not apply to the written. He'd experiment with the stone later, believing it could come in handy.
The horse itself was now wandering around the cave exterior enjoying its new-found freedom. It had taken a lot of patience on Bill and its part to get all the horse accessories off, but they'd persevered. It was lucky Bill had no intention of riding the thing, because he was fairly certain the tangled mess was never going back on without professional help. He'd set the horse free to do as it wished, and so it did, wandering about eating grass and doing whatever horses did in their free time.
The other spoils of victory included three mostly broken spears, several short swords, two savagely smashed crossbows, Flavius' absurdly large broadsword, and a set of nearly complete mail. The breastplate was useless after Rekka punched so many holes and dents in it, but the chain shirt Flavius had been wearing under it was a nice find. The gauntlets and bracers would come in useful if Bill decided to try catching anymore arrows. The rest of the plate didn't fit him, Flavius clearly having skipped leg day. Finally, a small heavy pouch of coins, bearing the face of some king probably, of gold, silver, and copper denominations. All and all, it was really quite a haul for only his second day as a homicidal vagrant adventurer.
"It ready yet?" Rekka asked, not for the first time, with growing impatience. "I told ya I can eat it raw, jus' hand it over," she complained, staring at the sizzling meat with greedy eyes.
She was crouched down on all fours so close to the fire she might as well have been sitting in it, drops of drool dripping from her slavering jaws to sizzle on the stones encircling their little fire. Bill didn't know how she could stand the heat, and guessed it was another quirk of her hellhound nature.
"You ask that as though I've ever cooked venison over an open flame with a damned sword before," retorted Bill, "And no, you're not eating raw meat. It's probably riddled with parasites." Rekka just shrugged, unblinking eyes not leaving the sizzling meat. She'd begun to squirm and whine quietly, edging a bit closer to the flames.
Bill grumbled, tugging on a gauntlet to use as an oven mitt. Ripping a small more-or-less cooked piece of venison free, he tossed it to the totally-not-begging hellhound. Rekka snapped it out of the air with a snarl, barely chewing before gulping it down. She gasped in delight, placing her paws against her cheeks in awe.
"S'good! I ain't had salt in... forever!" she exclaimed, tail wagging. "More! Gimme more, husband! You're a great cook, the best!" she declared, crawling over and flipping onto her back across Bill's lap, demanding to be spoiled. Deciding the meat was probably well enough done, Bill reached over her with the gauntlet for the sword with her portion on it, and began to pull off chunks to feed her by hand. He didn't bother to hide how much he was enjoying himself.
"Yow, don't snap!" he said, jerking his fingers back from her. He was considering going for the other gauntlet if she kept that up.
"M'sorry, it's so good," she said, not sorry at all as she licked her lips and waited for the next morsel. He obediently complied with her demands, feeling a sense of joy to share in her profound happiness.
As he continued to feed Rekka, Bill wondered at what sort of existence she had led before they had met. Surviving this wilderness, living alone in a cave, he imagined it would have been heartbreakingly lonely for such a vibrant and gregarious young woman. Despite what may happen to him, stepping through that portal had been worth meeting Rekka and seeing her happy, he decided.
When Bill finished feeding Rekka the last of her meal, and stoically allowing her to lick the grease from his fingers, she settled down contentedly into his lap to allow him to eat his own long denied lunch.
Or was it dinner, now?
he mused. He wasn't certain how long they'd spent looting, dealing with the horse and getting the meal sorted out. Mentally shrugging, he tried a piece of flame grilled venison shish-ka-sword. He had either also been magically gifted with culinary prowess, or hunger really was the best spice. Likely the latter, as you couldn't really do much with meat, salt, and sword oil. Rekka watched him eat, a contented smile on her lips.
Later, their meal finished, Bill cleaned up by chucking the slightly singed swords into the pile of weaponry they'd pushed into one corner, out of the way. Now resting and enjoying their full bellies, with Rekka draped over his lap, they shifted into a comfortable silence. Bill took the time to explore one of Rekka's more curious features, tentatively waving a finger through the waving fire trailing from one of her eyes. Surprisingly he found it only slightly warm and it flowed around his finger harmlessly. Rekka giggled and pulled his hand away, kissing his palm affectionately.
"Stop, that tickles," she said, grinning up at him.
"What is it for, though?" he asked, caressing her cheek lightly, "I mean, it's pretty, sure... but why do you have Saint Elmo's fire in your eyes?"
"Dunno who that is, my eyes'r normal. All hellhounds have it," she said, nuzzling into his palm. Bill considered teasing her a bit more, but felt it was time to move onto more serious matters.
"Tell me about this war I seemed to have gotten myself mixed up in," he said. Rekka tensed and curled into him, pressing her face into his shirt, shaking her head.
"No, that stuffs boring. Jus' scratch my ears," she demanded, not looking at him. Bill complied with that, only because he enjoyed it nearly as much as she did. He indulged her until she relaxed a bit, then pressed her again.
"Rekka, this is important. Since we're going to be together I need to know what I've gotten myself into. How long has this been going on, and why are there only female mamono?" he asked, gently stroking her ears.
Eventually, still not looking at him she began to speak, "I only know what mama taught me, but sposedly humans and mamono have always been fightin'. A Demon Lord would get all powerful and send us to war with the humans, so we'd fight, kill, die, an' 'ventually a human hero would go forth and defeat the Demon Lord. Then things would be calm for a while, until the next Demon Lord showed up. That happened a lot, over'n over. Only, we didn't always look like this, an' there was males. Way back then, long time ago, we really were monsters." Rekka seemed uncomfortable revealing these things, and fell silent. Bill continued to stroke her ears and hair until she continued.
"Then, the last Demon Lord came to power. Only, she was a succubus. They ain't changed at all, really. Anyway, there was another war. We all fought an' died again. An another stupid hero went off to kill the Demon Lord. Only this time they didn't fight. She was real pretty, an' I guess he was real dumb. So they falls in love, an' the Demon Lord decided she loved all humans now. So, usin' her fancy Demon Lord magics she cast a big spell. Turned all the mamono female, and, y'know... sexy. I guess she figured we'd all just fuck until we were one people, an stop the wars," she said, clearly unimpressed with the whole plan.
"Something tells me that didn't work out too well," Bill prompted. Rekka scowled, shaking her head.
"Nuh uh. Her stupid spell didn't work right, an' everyone started noticin' that only girl mamono were bein' born. Meant they'd have to go find more husbands, even stealin' them from human wives. Everyone got mad again, an' they been fightin' ever since. There ain't been no peace or rest, an' the human's an dwarfs an elves are gettin' madder an' more scared," she said, turning onto her back to look up at him, worry in her eyes. Bill leaned down to kiss her softly, comforting her.
"So, less humans are being born, since most of the men are busy shacked up with beautiful mamono raising more of them. A hell of a cycle," Bill said with apprehension. "Now the humans are getting desperate. Making new weapons," he ended gravely, staring at the broken stock leaning against the cave wall.
Bill supposed he couldn't really blame them, they were in a race towards mutual extinction. If nothing changed, the mamono would simply outbreed the humans and then die off alone. Still, killing off Rekka and her people just wasn't a solution he was willing to accept. Humanity just wasn't that great in his opinion. A vague notion of a plan was formulating in his mind, he'd just have to convince Rekka it was a good one.
