Post #2816179 in The Gala-Dor Expedition, a roleplay on RPG

Georgina’s struggling halted. Her nose twitched, catching a familiar scent. Light, with the fragrance of exotic spices. Her pink tail whipped left and right, her red eyes were round and glossy, and she leapt up to snatch Orcimedes’ treat. “Roooooo…!” She bent low and rapidly shook her head, tearing into the jerky with a maw full of knife-like teeth.

The Bandit Leader looked up at Maria. The due she gave at the dead did not escape his notice… and neither did her mercy. She took his breath away, and he collapsed to his knees and palms, his head bowed low as he proclaimed, “P-Praise be to you and the Sacred Flame, my fair lady!”

He spent a moment there and offered his own silent prayer. Still, Esther’s request did not go unnoticed. The Bandit Leader stood to his feet, turned towards the raven, and pressed a fist against his chest with a nod. “Yes... Follow me.”

A firm hand clenched around his ankle and fixed him in place. He looked down to see a huge phantom of a man that had dragged himself across the sewer floor. “If she’s so much as missing a pinkie finger I will throw up all my blood on you,” Lio threatened, blood bubbling up over his lips, “Then I’ll take your head, grind your face in it, and if you’re so lucky that your skull doesn’t crack under my boot, you can fucking drown, you rancid, corpse breathed molerat.” The Bandit Leader froze in place. It was hard to discern his expression behind that bucket on his head, but Lio didn’t need to look to taste his fear. “Y..yes, that’s…” The Bandit Leader whipped away and struggled to find the right word. “...Motivating.”

The Bandit Leader led the way. Lio tried to flag down somebody to help him up, but he had no such luck and was stuck staggering after them thirty feet behind around the chasm, towards an iron door at the end of this long journey. It was unlike any other door they’d seen here, round and nine foot tall, forged from steel that had not rusted, even after so long at the dregs at the bottom of Arc-en-Lume. A massive wheel protruded from the centre of the door, not unlike those of a ship’s. The Bandit Leader slowed to a stop, grabbed the wheel, and began turning.

“Hrrkh!”

Metal grinded and ratcheted as he tugged at the wheel. Every inch drew the strength from his body. Finally, there was a booming thud, and the Bandit Leader motioned everybody to step back. The door dragged against the floor. A deep, grating noise followed its motions, it slowly swung open, and revealed...

A dark, wide room. The walls, floors, and ceiling were a grey, smooth colour, made of broad stone tiles wider and taller than the bricks they’d seen throughout the sewer. There were crates, barrels, and an assortment of junk strewn about the vault, but what stood out amongst the rest were the cages. Massive, rusted boxes of iron, scattered all around, filled with bodies upon bodies - some dressed in the blood-stained whites of the Sacred Flame, but most wore the crude leather and spiked iron of the Red Hatchets. Even within the dark, they could tell, the bodies were long cold.

Cough.

...Most of them, anyway.

At one end of the room, a silhouette stirred. The Bandit Leader stepped back. The group moved closer, and the shadow was brought into their light. Wavy black locks. A vermilion coat. Giant, puffed-up orange sleeves, adorned by strips of teal. Mud and cuts stained her dress, but its rich colours shined amidst the grime. She sat there, cross-legged, her wrists bound together in irons. Her almond-shaped eyes perused them. A smile graced her lips.

“Well, well, well! You don’t look raggedy enough to be Hatchets,” she remarked. “And none of you bear the cloth, save for…” Her gaze darted over to Maria, and she raised one brow curiously. “Hmm… white dress, freshly-burnt ash, and that ever-present air of lethargy…” The young woman scooted closer. Her face lit up. “Sister Maria, it is you! Darling, it’s been ages!”

It was difficult for Maria to forget her - Hortensia Hecate Halifax, granddaughter of Arc-en-Lume’s High Paladin. Always getting into trouble, even when Maria was an apprentice, and Hortensia, a teenager. Some things never changed. “Pardon me. It’s a right mess I’m caught up in.“ She shifted and tucked her chin onto her shoulder as her smile curled into a sheepish grin. “At least this time I’m not stuffing bugs into anyone’s breeches!”

Hortensia’s attention turned towards another, who had just stumbled into the room. Tall, handsomely built, and covered from head to toe in sewer dregs. Even with all that filth, Hortensia recognised him right away. She brought her hands to her nose and furrowed her brows. “O-oh! Lio, darling, that’s... not a good look for you.” The noblewoman waved away in a futile attempt to ward the stench. “Might I recommend a bath? Or several. Probably a massage, as well.”

Lio looked less than impressed. He let out the strained laugh of a man barely disguising his displeasure as he squatted in front of her. His dazzling grin, the only thing clean on him, dropped. “On the contrary, Horty, this cage is a great fit on you. Slimming. Maybe we should keep you in for another day or two.”

Hortensia’s hands crossed over her stomach, and her brows knit together. “Excuse you! Any slimmer and I won’t be much fun to hug!” The noblewoman turned away with a huff. “And then you’ll be in trouble with our mutual friend.” The tiniest hint of a grin remained on the corner of her mouth. Lio reached through the bars, pinched her nose between the knuckles of his middle and index finger, and that smile vanished.

“You’ve never had much fun hugging each other anyway. Don’t just say ‘take a bath’ to the person who crawled through a sewer to save you from your mistakes.” He glanced behind him at the party. He hadn’t done much of the actual saving part. He released her nose and wiped the grime from his fingers onto his singlet as an afterthought. “Well, that's why I'm here, but the master told me to make it explicit that he only gave me permission to come down here if I made sure his investment came back.” Lio held out a hand, palm up. “Do you still have the ring?”

Hortensia rubbed her own nose with a wince. The question came, and she sat up in attention. Slowly, she turned her gaze across the room, towards the hulking form of Orcimedes, and stopped. “Weeeeelllll…”

Lio looked over his shoulder at the party, big, green and slobbering especially, took in a suffering breath, and smiled.

“... Who has it?”

The guard’s eyes followed Anaïs’ hand, towards her scholar’s cross, and considered her words. After a moment, his posture relaxed, and he stayed his blade. “Stolen, you say?” He inquired, then stepped closer. “Then this is a matter of the law, and you should have filed a report.” The guard folded his arms, not taking his eyes off of Anaïs. “The Order of the Sacred Flame will take it from here. Please, turn out your pockets, and once I’m certain you haven’t taken or tampered with the evidence, you may go on your way.”

A thin, pretty smile crossed the drow’s face at her newly acquired ally’s words. She slunk back, her body still arched like a big cat ready to pounce, even as she backed off.

“Ajak, do'suul d'Arc en Lume,” she insisted in a whisper that tickled the back of his neck, despite her distance, “Tarthe dal l'Sacred Flame. Ol wo naut tlu verve hwuen dos kyorl l'anulo nin.”

And she settled back into her own shadowy corner, and went still, her sky-blue eyes turned up to the ceiling. Waiting.

Snippet #2816179

located in Zoltia, a part of The Gala-Dor Expedition, one of the many universes on RPG.

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