A Sure Way to Hell
----
A month had now passed since that night in Vitvarg, the swaying form of Talos' elf still floating through Torvald's mind every now and then. He had finally arrived at the small residence his employer had took up while she awaited him, not far into Skymarch within Imperial territory.
Torvald grinned. The day was finally here. The man had, for once, actually bathed the following day in a near-frozen pond within Graelyn's Pass in anticipation. He wore his best under-trousers, and ensured his pecker had still worked in the morning after another cold night in the frozen wastes of the north.
Here, not twenty miles from the pass, snow had refused to fall quite so early in the year. The annual harvest had only just ended, a sign of several cold months ahead for the peasants of Skymarch.
Torvald walked up the steps of the small residence a happy man. He spied the sorceress with lust, the woman stroking her hair with a fine brush as she peered in a personal mirror facing away from him.
Her hair, bright as gold, fell softly to the woman's backside. She wore a light tan bodice and a very short skirt, as well as a leather choker on her neck. The hemline of the skirt would have reached her knees had the sorceress not possessed the most voluptuous ass in all the empire; for now, the skirt lay contentedly not two inches from revealing her assets, the fabric pushed behind her as it lay on her naked bottom.
Torvald knew the sorceress must have been aware of his imminent arrival, dressing like the little slut that she was. His member slowly hardenend under his clothes as he looked her over.
"Ah, Torvald!" the woman exclaimed, having seen his reflection in the mirror. "I trust you were successful?" she asked sultrily, her need of his cock obvious to the adventurer.
"I was, m'lady," he replied, fetching the stone from his pack and holding it up. The woman sighed happily, turning to face him and strutting to grab the stone.
"Not as pretty as I thought it'd be," she joked as she investigated the rock in her grasp.
"Not as pretty as you, no doubt," Torvald suavely replied.
The woman smiled before returning to her desk with a spin, her skirt deciding to grant the man a quick flash of her cheeks. She grabbed a purse full of gold Imperials and tossed it towards him.
"My thanks, Torvald. Your payment in full." Torvald caught the coinpurse before placing it on the table beside him.
"Oh, not the full payment I believe. My lady," he rebuked, eyeing the curvy form before him. He was now straining against his pants. The sorceress giggled as he spoke.
"That's right... You're going to
fuck
me now, aren't you Torvald? Because I'm a little
slut
? Because I..." she paused, peering towards his crotch and biting her lip, "
need
your cock?"
The man nodded, the sorceress's expectations of future events clearly matching his. He began to unlace his pants as her voluptuous body sway towards him, eyes locked to his. His mind began to cloud as he fixated on every movement she made... and every word she spoke.
"I think I've a better idea, Torvald," she began, her voice immediately transforming into one far more serious.
"I think... no, I
know
, that you're going to leave those coins there on the table," she continued, the man's mind getting more fogged-in by the second.
"And you're going to leave this house, depressed that a beautiful sorceress did not want to sleep with an ugly wretch such as yourself."
Torvald felt his mind falling into a deep abyss before his mind went blank.
"And you're going to kill yourself. I don't care where. Just not here."
Torvald agreed to the enchantress's statement without any hesitation, and returned down the steps from whence he came.
--
A month of travel passed quickly for Talos and Casiama. The ever-present snowbanks of northern Isbrygga eventually gave way to the plains and grasslands in the southern part of the region, and had even opened up into a massive, beautiful caldera of hot springs at one point.
They were now trudging through the grasslands once more, having soaked and enjoyed the hot springs for far too long. It's not that the pair were in any particular rush to get where they were going; they just finally noticed each other's carefree behaviors at the springs, and had decided to tear away from its glory lest they become slothful. Or perhaps even fat, Talos worried.
The wanderer and the princess were now entering Graelyn's Pass, a small mountain road which provided access to the cold lands of Isbrygga from the Empire to the south, and back again if one found the urge. Sharp peaks rose proudly to either side of them as they walked through the lightly-trodden twelve-mile pass.
Before the sun could set coldly behind those peaks, Casiama decided to find shelter for the night. She fortunately spotted a cave, just off the road, and beckoned her lover to join her there. She summoned their bedrolls and dinner from her ethereal plane with a dainty flick of her wrist, while Talos summoned a fire with sticks, logs and flint, as well as quite the bit of effort.
Once Casiama felt the fire's embrace, she allowed herself to get comfortable; as she was accustomed to do. A hand traced over her willowy form banished her clothing from the world, replaced only by a soft, white-fur miniskirt and her white-and-gold cloak. She swayed towards Talos as he ate by the fire, perching beside him on her knees with the cloak between her and the floor. She draped the corner of the fabric over his shoulders, and gazed lovingly at the man.
Talos smirked, his eyes flickering between her beautiful eyes and her perfect breasts. He chided her between bites of venison. "Cass, ish rude to watch someone as they eat."
Her gaze didn't leave him, and she smiled sweetly. "Where else would I look?"
The man shrugged, then nodded out towards the ravine they were camped atop. Casiama didn't bother following his nod, but giggled softly and nudged against him instead.
"I'm getting very comfortable out here, I fear. Out on the road with you. When will you break my heart and settle, Talos?" she asked softly, halfway between a jest and a statement of sorrow. Her mind was still on the hot springs they had left earlier in the week.
Talos gulped down his food, handing the remnants of the skewer to Casiama. She shook her head and placed a hand on it, banishing it from sight in a blinding flash of white.
"I might have eaten that," Talos smirked. He sighed, then continued speaking.
"But to answer your question? Not for a while. The call of the road never ceases, Casiama, even when you reach the end. 'Cause then there's the sea, and if you get on a boat you can find a thousand thousand other roads on the other side."
Casiama shook her head with a giggle. "Are you trying poetry again, Talos?"
He shrugged, pulling her in closer by grabbing her soft cloak. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Perhaps. And if I was?"
"No troubador will be jealous, I assure you," she teased into his ear. He nudged her playfully, just enough to let her lean gently to the side. She pushed back with her shoulder and a smile.
"Then give me your glorious rendition of '
Where the Road Meets the Sea'
," he said, amused. Casiama glanced away from him and towards the fire, speaking softly after a moment or three of thought.
"To wander aimlessly along the road is a simple feat, having heard the voice in your heart telling you to go on. Yet now you reach the shore; you listen to the waves strike the cliffs, you read the unreadable sea. You listen to the voice again; what language does it speak, Talos? Will it speak the same to me, as it does for you? You'd like to think that it will. But you wonder, you wander, and you will never know until you set sail."
Casiama's gaze returned to him, and the princess held the sweetest smile. She let her hands fall softly atop her skirt.
A silence overtook the pair for a minute, only interrupted by the crackling wood of a small fire and the howl of a far-off wolf. Both elf and man were grinning as they stared into each other's eyes, green orbs twinkling in the dim firelight. Talos broke the silence with a chuckle.
"Fuck you, Cass." He wouldn't try his hand at poetry again for years to come.
--
Talos and Casiama were deep within Graelyn's Pass the following day, not two miles from Imperial territory. Talos pondered woefully as he inspected the swinging body of a man he had just seen in perfect spirits but a month ago.
"It just doesn't make sense," he said gloomily to no one in particular, a hand on his chin. "Happy men about to make a huge haul don't simply commit suicide."
Casiama stepped towards him as he spoke and rested a light hand on his shoulder.
"Perhaps it wasn't suicide. He could have been attacked by bandits? Left for dead?"
Talos shook his head and stepped towards the corpse swinging from a heavy tree branch.
"Nah. There isn't any blood, and a man like Torvald would have went down fighting. Besides, his pack's open, yet none of his valuables are missing. Not even the coin," Talos explained, throwing the light pouch half-full of silver and copper Imperials towards the elf. He kept searching through the pack, looking for something in particular.
"He didn't seem in bad spirits, I agree. He seemed quite happy reminiscing of the '
goo' ol' days
' with you, Talos," the elf affirmed softly, making her best impression of the man with those three words. Talos returned from the bag, having not found what he was looking for.
"Not funny, Cass. The casting stone's missing as well. Perhaps the sorceress he was to meet forced him to do this. Somehow..."
