"So you don't participate in the 'competition' at all?"
The men laughed, "Gods no! We leave the work to the mongrels! It's what they were bred for, after all." Falbian's wet gurgling laugh grated on my ears, but I kept a friendly smile in place.
"We come here to escape the nags and live as men should! We hunt, we slay, and we fuck whoever we want!" He raised his wineglass to a round of cheers and laughter, but not one joined by all at the table.
A second group had joined us, just prior to transit, and not one of them seemed as portly or well heeled as Falbian and his fellows.
I'd made sure to find a seat between the two groups, "I don't believe we've met, I'm-"
The man I addressed didn't look up from his steak to cut me off, "Dilin. We crossed paths in Gehenna, actually. You were with the strike units. I was with eradication." He continued eating, apparently with nothing more to say.
Lansome chuckled, "Gehenna? I hear that was-"
A mug slammed onto the table, "It was a hell, kid. The man didn't keep talking because he has nothing more to say about it. Leave it."
I couldn't have agreed more, but the terse man's words had jogged my memory and sent a chill down my spine. "Brynden. My apologies. It's been a long time."
He waved it away, "It has." And then resumed eating with the empty, emotionless eyes one might expect from a man who'd partaken in genocide.
The 'eradication unit' had been tasked with evacuating tieflings and anyone else who sought asylum to one of the many worlds that had been left empty. Instead, they'd butchered them all and swept it under the rug.
When it was discovered, most had just shrugged. Many clapped.
"Lord Father, more wine?" Bridget pressed her breasts against my neck and slid her hand down my shirt, the others had eschewed all pretense with their 'squires' so we'd decided to play along as well.
And by we, I meant she.
I held up my glass, playing my part as I ignored her entirely. "Brother Fildain, I must offer my compliments again. Your pavilion truly does put my command tent to shame." I forced a self deprecating chuckle as the oaf beamed, "I must admit I'm quite embarrassed that I invited you men into that hovel now!"
A round of laughs and reassurances followed, most with backhanded insults towards my assumed poverty. I laughed and I smiled; I joked and I jabbed. And I won them over with ease.
I'd learned recently from a beautiful nurse how easy it was to see only the reflection you wanted to see, and I showed them exactly who they were.
While I sipped my grape juice, and played my part.
The distraction.
"If your blood is hot, Brother Dilin, my domestic may have something for you to sink your sword into..."
I laid down my knife and fork, feigning interest, "Do tell, Brother..."
The man snapped and whistled, calling a listless woman with milky eyes to his side. "Jarret. Tell us girl, where do you see demons."
The woman turned slowly before raising her hand and pointing at nothing. When she spoke, three haunting voices came from her throat. "We see... Black horns. Red skin. Black wings. We see a halo-"
"Enough!" He shoved roughly, sending her sprawling to the ground. "When I say where, you stupid bitch, you point and keep your sinful mouth sealed!"
Bridget's hand pushed me back into the seat I'd begun to rise from, "More wine, Lord Father?" Another demerit earned.
Instead, I called to him jovially as he jumped from his chair furiously, "Brother Jarret!" He loomed over the woman, telegraphing a kick with his hips that she would never see coming. "I'll give you the spoils if we ride now!"
Slapping the table with both hands, I bellowed, "I miss how hot blood feels on my hands!"
Bridget's hand squeezed the nerves in my neck painfully as she leaned over me to pour wine into my glass, adding her weight subtly. And excruciatingly.
I patted her hand gently and she relented, acknowledging our signal that I knew what i was doing.
Hopefully I was right...
In an unpleasant surprise, Brynden sat back and pushed his plate away. "I'll join. And keep your shit. I only want its skin, eyes, and cock if it has one."
Jarret fumed for a few more seconds then kicked dirt across the woman, "Get back in your cage, wretch. I'll deal with you later." Spinning back to the table he added, "C'mon then. I need to kill something I don't own. Before I kill something I do."
-- -- -- -- --
The world we'd found ourselves in was a green one, with clean air, lush plains, and sparse, old growth forests around our encampment. Any game made itself scarce long before we encountered it, but markings and trails could be spotted easily. Wild berries and trees bearing familiar fruits grew along the banks of a gentle stream, and herbs I recognized from medical texts grew wild and plentiful.
It seemed like a paradise, but it made my skin crawl.
At least as much as my
companions
did.
Two others from Brynden's group had opted to join, both carrying boltcasters more kin to a ballista than a crossbow. "I'm surprised you don't have a proper mount, Brother. I would find it embarrassing to use a cheap whistle that summons a nag."
They were also both pompous assholes.
Unsurprisingly.
I laughed away the insult, "Jeppy is a fine companion! He fears nothing! And if he's killed, I'll just summon him again! Isn't that right Jeppy"
Jeppy snorted and I stroked the, 'I love you boy, please don't kill anybody' spot behind his ear.
Jeppy, like myself, was not exactly as he appeared.
We only rode in the rear so I could sneak him bits of jerky to calm his temper.
Within an hour Brynden raised his fist and spoke, "I have it. Dilin, Jarret you're with me. Snipers, you know your business. That hill is between us and it." The two men slid from their horses, dismissing them back into their trinkets and nearly vanishing from sight as the cloaks they wore began to match the foliage around them.
A few steps later, I could feel the 'demon' as well.
Stroking a ring on my finger, I pointed in the same direction and activated the arcane runes with a thought. "Is that you Arika?"
The reply was nearly instantaneous, "Dilly Bear! Is that evil little girl still with you?!" I sighed in both relief and resignation. Arika was a half-devil bard with one of the gentlest souls I'd ever encountered, unless you happened to harbor malice or cruelty within yours. At which point her diabolical nature became wholly apparent.
She was also one of my godmother's chosen broodwives, and the mother to
a lot
of my tiefling half-sisters.
I spent the second charge in the ring to respond, "Arika, later. Men are coming for you. Bad men. I'm with them. Pretend you don't know me."
Her response came in a rush, "She was so mean! She called me names and... Bad men? Okay Dilly, I'll keep you safe!"
I urged Jeppy to join the others as we made our way around the forested hill, "It feels more devil than demon to me, and that oracle mentioned a halo..."
Brynden grunted his agreement, "Likely came in with us. Makes it easier. We talk, open up a shot, they shoot."
Jarrett sneered and spit, "Good riddance to another mongrel."
I sighed, "Well that doesn't seem very sporting..."
Brynden tilted his head and smiled, sending shivers down my spine. "I don't recall war being very sporting,
Brother
." His eyes narrowed as his smile touched them, "Ah, but you've come to wet your blade. You go on ahead, Brother Jarrett and I will remain in reserve."
The psychopath's smile gave away his game. He'd brought two snipers for two kills. I smiled back into it, "Thank you. Brother Jarret, may I make a gift of you to my ignoble steed?"
He laughed, "Of course, but I believe you've misspoke!"
I laughed, "Did I?" Slipping from the mount I scratched his ear and stroked his neck. "You run for the hill if there's fighting, okay boy? Jarrett will keep you safe." Jeppy's lips peeled into a smile as I patted his neck and handed his reins to Jarrett with a smile of my own.
When Arika came into view she lazed languidly against a willow tree, conveniently placing it between her and the snipers. The two men slowed and then stopped as we neared, leaving me to walk the last dozen yards to the cambion woman alone.
Arika was a carnal being that prefered the feeling of eyes on her red skin to fabric, drinking in lust with the same need most others had for oxygen. I offered her a feast as I approached, drinking in her curves as hungrily as she dined on my appreciation of them.
I couldn't deny that my godmother had exquisite, if eccentric, taste....
Backswept black horns rose just above her temples, arching backwards together before curving upwards to sharp points barely a hands breadth apart. Thick, dark hair matching her sclera filled the space between them, spilling over her shoulders in a wild mane that's ends rested atop her heavy scarlet breasts.
