Note that this chapter contains a bit of light torture and light knifeplay, and strays into the realm of dubious consent a bit.
**
The sound of dripping water arrived first, followed by a dank, moist scent. Next came the warmth and crackling of a fire. My eyesight finally returned, along with the sensation in my limbs.
I was bound to a sturdy wooden chair in a cavern of some kind. Before me roared a small fire, and beside it laid a pile of furs and blankets. Above me, I could make out a few cracks and gaps in the cave ceiling, none of which were big enough for me to wriggle through, even if I could have somehow gotten up there. Faint sunlight gleamed through those gaps, so I knew at least one night had passed since my capture.
Alone.
As I took in the scene, the events that had led me to that cavern raced by in quick succession. A stealthy descent down a cliff into the bandit camp. A perfect infiltration to get close to my target: the dusk elf Xelari. A few minutes lurking in the shadows, listening with glee as her orcish lieutenant had pleasured her. And then my assassination attempt itself, foiled by Xelari's wariness and a clever illusion. A frantic, bloody escape through the camp, before I'd fallen to Xelari's magic.
Even as I squirmed against my restraints to test them, I went over those events again and again. Had I inspected her tent more thoroughly before advancing inside, I probably could have spotted that illusion and adjusted accordingly. Had I not allowed myself to be distracted by Xelari for that split-second during my escape, I likely could have made it up the cliff.
Every failure was a lesson.
I just had to survive long enough to put those lessons to good use.
After a few deep breaths I took better stock of my surroundings and my predicament: they'd stripped me out of my armor, leaving me barefoot in my sweaty shirt and leather leggings. The leggings had been rolled up to past my knees, and I no longer felt any pain where Terakh had struck me with the flat of his blade. Someone had used magic to tend to those injuries.
Curious. They wanted me alive, but also healthy.
I wasn't sure if that development was promising or worrying.
As a trainee of the White Talon assassin order, I'd been thoroughly trained on all varieties of bindings and knots. Other experience in bondage had come from particularly cruel or creative lovers, so it wasn't long before I'd squirmed and wriggled enough to loosen the rope around my right wrist.
Footsteps echoed through the cavern. I went still, fluttered my eyes, and did my best to act the part of someone who'd just awoken and had not yet started to undo the bindings.
A dusk elf rounded the corner, clad in a breastplate of shimmering dark metal, and carrying a bowl. Upon his hip was a long, curved dagger, and the angry gleam in his eyes told me he wouldn't hesitate to use it. His skin was a pale grey, and he wore his silvery hair in a tight bun. Upon his forehead was a claw-shaped tattoo, in the same style as Xelari's amulet.
He approached slowly, without meeting my eyes.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice hoarse and weak.
"I suppose I should thank you," he said, ignoring the question and raising the bowl.
To my relief, it was filled with water, which I greedily slurped down as much as I could. Doing so spilled a great deal over my chest and his hands.
"Because your slaying of Elengred allowed me to step in and take his place as Xelari's chosen favorite."
Her 'favorite?' Did that mean he'd been her chosen champion, or had I killed Xelari's favored lover? If it was the latter, I wondered how the man had reacted to the sounds of Terakh licking between his mistress's legs, mere feet away.
"From the sound of her moans, it seems that Terakh was instead her favorite," I said, managing a soft smile. The barb had been deftly calculated, a strike at this dusk elf's ego to assess his relationship with Xelari.
He snorted.
"Our mistress would never allow that dimwitted mercenary inside of her. To please and worship her, yes, but for the true embrace of her touch? Never. Terakh has not earned the right of the richest pleasures she can offer. But thanks to your dispatching of Elengred...I may have earned that right myself."
After slurping down the last of the water, she caught her breath and relaxed a bit.
"Express your gratitude, then, and tell me where I am."
"In a cave."
"You're clever, I can see why Xelari promoted you.
Where am I
?"
"Not far from where you were captured," he said with a little smile. "That was quite the fight you put up. Though had I been there, you would not have lasted that long, gotten as far, or killed as many of our hirelings."
"Care to put that boast to the test? Loosen these bonds a bit, and we can see how worthy of a champion you really are."
The dusk elf chuckled.
"Were it not for Xelari's orders, I'd have already cut your throat. Or at a minimum, I'd have bent you over in front of the whole camp, so they could all see the clever assassin moaning like a whore."
"Oh, so you know how to show a lady a good time then," I shot back, flashing him my most impudent grin.
"Your japes won't save you."
"Of course not. Just having a bit of fun." I chewed my lip and glanced up at the ceiling. "Though truth be told, I'm not so sure a scrawny elf like you could do much for me. But a big, brawny orc like Terakh...now that's a
real
lover." His nose twitched, his lips curling into a sneer. Another well-placed barb. Another test. Another opening.
"I bet he'd make me moan and weep as loudly as he did Xelari. You should have heard how loudly she-"
He slapped me across the face. The impact was more than enough to send me rocking back in the chair, which promptly toppled back onto the cave floor. The wood splintered, and since I already mostly freed my wrist before he'd arrived, it was no trouble at all to tear through the remaining bindings.
The shattered chair also gave me a rather convenient weapon in the form of a large, jagged piece of wood.
The dusk elf snarled and lunged for me, clearly thinking me a clumsy fool rather than a threat, and not noticing the improvised weapon I'd managed to grasp.
As his hands gripped my shoulders, I twisted and lunged, driving the massive splinter deep into the meat of his bicep. He howled as dark blue blood spurted forth, and he slammed his forehead against mine. Hissing back in defiance, I twisted the makeshift weapon, left it there, and grasped for the dagger strapped to his waist.
In a flash I unsheathed it and pressed it underneath his chin, while my free hand tore away the remaining bindings.
His pale eyes widened in shock and pain, and I shoved him onto his back.
"Easy, easy. No need for me to kill another of Xelari's pets. First, your name."
"Fuck you," he growled in reply.
"Now, now. I'll need your cooperation if I'm going to get out of here, and you'll need my mercy if you want to survive. Let's get acquainted." I jabbed him with the knife, just barely enough to draw blood. "Name."
"Valrafein."
"And my gear?"
