Over the cracked lands of the expansive shimmer, Tarquin rode atop his raptor mount. The dinosaur's prints were stamped neatly into the brown, dead soil as the pair rode toward some direction, and both looked straight ahead through the mist of roiling steam rising up from the ground.
They called it the shimmer because of the steam: few chose to traverse the hot and hostile terrain, and there was no good place to camp for anyone passing through. In reality, the land was simply one collective, constantly active volcano, but it had gained a reputation over generations as a place that could not be settled by anything remotely human. Even the demons of the north, a race that could easily withstand the heat, kept their distance from the land because of the violent, behemoth creatures that roamed it.
Tarquin however, was a man used to taking chances. The idea of going around the territory and wasting nearly an entire week's worth of time didn't appeal to him, and he wasn't keen on the idea of being late for his next job. There was another petty war brewing in the western continent of Sk'lah, and, as a lifelong mercenary, he planned to capitalize on it.
For all the negative talk surrounding the shimmer, Tarquin had yet to discover any hostile creatures. Thus far, his journey had been uneventful, and the traveling had been smooth. His raptor, Axis, was thick skinned and just as well seasoned a traveler as the mercenary himself. He was larger than an average field raptor, being only slightly smaller (albeit stronger) than a horse.
The mercenary guessed that they must be nearing the end of the shimmer, and he winced through a billow of steam to see if he could make out any greenery ahead, "It's still looking fairly bleak," he said to the raptor as he patted Axis' side reassuringly. "I'll be happy to drink a little cool water at the end of this... and a bath would be nice too," he added as he felt the sheen of sweat all over his body.
As if agreeing with him, the raptor snorted.
Tarquin chuckled, "Yes, I'll use soap. Now, the sooner we're rid of this place, the sooner we can..." his words trailed off as he saw the shape of something looming in the distance.
He slowed Axis and undid the clasp of his sword at his backside. As they neared, he realized that what he was seeing was only a copse of tall, dead trees. The gathering of trees was dense, but as he drew closer still, he could see that they weren't dead at all, but were actually a natural, ashy gray color. The leaves that grew sparsely over the trees were a strange, neon orange, and they reflected strangely off the rising steam as they whipped around lazily.
The mercenary had never heard of such a phenomenon in the shimmer. He'd spoken with many merchants and fellow mercenaries over the years and in all the stories no one had mention such an interesting sight. So interesting, if fact, that Tarquin halted the raptor and dismounted in order to get a closer look.
The trees were growing too close together for the dinosaur to pass, and Tarquin patted the reptile's head and smiled, "I'll be back in a few minutes; there may be water for us to drink."
The reptile was used to the galavanting of his master, and he blinked dismissively before assuming a more comfortable standing position.
Tarquin carefully made his way into the copse of ashen trees. Sweat and dirt streaked his face as his eyes darted about vigilantly. He was a tall man, broad, and years of intense combat and training had gained him an impressive musculature and plenty of scars to match it. His hair was dark brown and shoulder length, and his features were sharp and strong. It was difficult to see even the color of his deeply tanned skin, dirty as he was, and his unkempt facial hair was somewhere past a goatee and dangerously close to being a sloppy beard.
Tarquin most often traveled alone with Axis. He found the company of roving travelers to be tiresome after a day or two and he hated sharing camps with others. Axis' keen sense of smell and night vision were enough to keep both of them safe at night when camping in the open, and Tarquin himself was no stranger to an unfair fight. The repercussions of this, however, was that the longer the mercenary traveled alone the less interested he became in his appearance. At the moment, anyone's glancing over him would assume the man to be easily middle aged and probably less intelligent that Tarquin actually was, but the man simply had no reason to keep up his appearances in the wild.
And it didn't get any more wild than where the man found himself. The trees opened up suddenly into a broad clearing where a large pool of water sprang up out of the ground. Steam plumed up from the oddly pristine water, and it was like nothing the man had ever seen in his life.
"Greetings, Tarquin."
The mercenary had drawn a dagger and was brandishing it before he even realized it, "Show yourself, whoever you are. I'm just passing through...It wasn't my intention to trespass." The voice hadn't startled him nearly as much as he felt it should, but his instincts were telling him that he'd stumbled upon something very dangerous.
There was long pause before he received a reply. Instead of hearing words, however, he stepped back as the center of the pond began to roil violently.
A woman ascended from the smoky depths of the pond with a flourish. It was clear that she was a woman because she was completely naked, and steaming water dripped from her curves as she walked upon the surface of the water toward him.
"A witch?" He asked as he stood his ground and took a deep breath. The woman that was approaching him was obviously not human, but there was no doubt that she was beautiful. Her skin was almost purple in color and too flawless to be believable, and though his body was reacting the way any man's body would, he held the dagger at the ready and looked at her squarely.
"No, not even close," the woman smiled as she stepped onto the shore. "I am Ne'shita."
Despite his caution, Tarquin found himself laughing, "Ne'shita, the goddess?"
The woman smiled, "That's a generous term. I am simply a guardian deity of the smallest order," the smile she offered was less humble than her words.
"Fine," Tarquin blinked, "Let's say I believe you; what do you want with me?"
The smile never faded from the goddess' lips, "You really don't like games, do you, Tarquin?"
"I really don't, I'd prefer to get to the point. Are you here to kill me or do you want something from me?"
"Everyone wants something from you," she laughed lightly, and the sound was almost electronic, "You kill people for a living."
Tarquin was growing impatient. It was true that he hated games above all other things. Card games, board games, but especially verbal games. "So, you want me to kill someone for you?"
The naked woman shook her head as she stepped up to him. She held no weapon, and her stance was completely neutral, "Quite the opposite... if you have time to hear me out."
Tarquin sighed and took a step back, "Fine, speak." He was less concerned about the fact that she knew his name and more concerned about why she wanted to speak with him at all. If she really was who she claimed to be, then she could probably find out anyone's name she wanted.
"I've been watching you for awhile," Ne'shita began as she stared over the man with a grin. "You are quite the fighter. Besides that, I know that you have been feeling awfully lonely as of late, and you're growing tired of slicing and gouging men for money. Maybe you want to settle down somewhere far away, find a nice woman, maybe even start a family?" She glanced up at him expectantly, "Am I wrong?"
"Yes, you're wrong," he answered immediately, though he didn't sound convinced himself. "Regardless, what do you want?"
She ignored the question as she looked over herself, "I tried to find a form that I thought would please you, but it doesn't seem to make much of a difference; you're a difficult man to impress, Tarquin."
"I'm plenty impressed, but I'm also not keen on falling into a trap without knowing why. Now..." he stopped speaking as his eyes widened.
Ne'shita's body shifted and morphed into a smaller, more petite woman with long hair and smaller breasts. The color of her skin remained the same, as did her features, "Is this more to your liking? Or perhaps..."
Tarquin watched her shift again as he steadied his breathing. This time, the woman formed herself into a tall, broad woman, easily as heavy as Tarquin himself with thick legs and arms and soft, pillowy breasts, "Someone to keep you warm at night?" She chuckled as she closed the gap that he'd made between them.
The mercenary was more confused than excited, but seeing such a series of equally alluring women was certainly enough to jar his loneliness, "What do you want?" He asked again firmly with a bit of exasperation as he tried hard not to stare at the large, bare breasts that were almost pushing up against him.
"I want to find you a wife. The perfect woman," Ne'shita shifted back into her original form and crossed her arms over her chest. "I know why you haven't settled down; you haven't found the right woman. You're sad and upset that most every eligible bachelorette you pass in your travels is just... blah," she emphasized her words with a shrug. "I understand. It's hard finding a good man too," she gave him a sideways look and a wry grin. "I want to help you."
Though he was still loathe to admit that what she said was true, he winced and clutched the dagger a little more tightly, "And this woman is you?"
Ne'shita laughed, "Oh, goodness no, it would never work! I know more about you than you might like me to disclose, like the fact that the last time you visited a brothel you spent the entire night talking with the girl instead of fucking her."
Tarquin set his jaw, "That was months ago; just how long have you been spying on me?"
"Long enough. Enough to know what you want... and what you don't want."
He took a deep breath as he considered the naked goddess' words, "And what are you asking in return?"
She smiled slowly, "The thing I want in return is substantial. Tell me, have you heard about the race crisis?"
