ethanjory

Of Blood and Bastards

Under normal circumstances, Ash would have followed Rohaan's advice and gotten rid of the Dark Blade without a second thought. However, if she had to be honest with herself, she was feeling a certain allure towards the blade. It was odd. These thoughts didn't truly feel like her own. She rubbed her temples, in an attempt to focus. She pulled out the Dark Blade and made a motion to throw it away... or at least she tried to. She had a sinking feeling that she was no longer the one truly in control, and she could no easily discard the cursed blade than she could willingly cut off her own arm. Under different circumstances, she might have been concerned, startled, or fearful of this very fact, but a feeling was filling her body that was putting her at ease. She was no longer concerned, and placed the blade back into its hilt at her belt. Rohaan just didn't understand. The blade would allow her to accomplish great things! How could he not see that? Fortunately, it didn't matter at the moment. The blade was hers and not his, and she'd make sure it stay that way. She firmly gripped the hilt of the Dark Blade. If he ever go in her way, she knew exactly what she would have to do. Her head was throbbing and she was nearly put off balance as her senses finally returned to her. Her previous thoughts felt nothing more to her than a nearly forgotten dream. And then, all of a sudden, she remembered the second reason why she wanted to come here, aside from killing Thoburas. Lord Cassander!

If he was dead, then he'd be in this room with the rest of the bodies. With the threat on her own life subsided, it was rather macabre and grim to witness the pile of bodies that had been cast haphazardly into the corner without any concern. Most of the bodies were husks and malformed, especially in comparison to how most looked when they were alive. And the smell... she'd have to utilize a significant amount of her remaining willpower to stop herself from retching. She never thought that she'd ever find herself digging through a pile of corpses, but here she was, and this was the work that she had to complete in this moment in time. Make no mistake, it was ghastly work. Pulling one body off of one another wasn't doing much to help Ash's own psyche in the slightest. Body after body - husbands, wifes, daughters, and sons. Not even the children were spared in Thoburas's ritualistic massacre. She went over each body to the point where she could be certain whether or not she recognized the body. Most of them she had never seen in her entire life, save for a few servants. Her heart went out to all these people, especially when considering their cruel fates, but she had to wipe away any tears and get back into it. By the time that she had reached the last body, she was covered in sweat and entirely exhausted. She turned over the final body.

It wasn't Lord Cassander. In fact, it was just another person she had never seen before. Did this mean that her adopted father was still alive? Or was he just dead elsewhere? There were so many secrets that still remained a complete mystery to her. She gave out a yell of frustration as she returned to her feet, finally realizing that ever inch of her body ached. They had released a portion of a calamitous dark god on the entire world and her hair was a mess. She worked her way over to Rohaan to complain about it all when she noticed that the ring from her neck was glowing. It was the same ring that she had fashioned into a necklace after concluding their chat with the Emperor. It was odd timing with everything considered, but she was far too tired to bother questioning it. She removed the leather strap from the ring and placed it on her finger. As the image of the Emperor began to materialize before her, Ash offered her hand to Rohaan.

"Ready?" Ash offered, not sounding at all thrilled about the recent series of events. Aside from killing Thoburas, of course, but she had a sinking suspicion that things weren't about to look up from here.

Of Blood and Bastards

KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW! HE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM YOU! HE DOESN'T DESERVE MERCY!

Ash wasn't entirely accustomed to hearing voices in her head. More concerning was the fact that she was finding herself wholeheartedly agreeing with the malignant voice, which was hardly a position she thought she'd ever imagine finding herself in. Still, Thoburas had ultimately brought this upon himself. His senseless butchery was exactly what placed her on the path of vengeance all those weeks ago. Ash supposed that she could thank the gods that she would be the one to kill the dark elf, especially so soon. She could only assume Lord Cassander was dead, and she was more than ready to avenge his death. He may not have been her biological father, but he had been the one to love her and raise her... killing Thoburas was the least that she could do to honor his memory. First of all, she would actually have to kill him. The Dark Blade had carved its way through the elf's forearm, but it was far from being a mortal blow. If she did nothing, she'd end up being in a compromising position, especially given how resolute the elf had been in the past. She pulled the supernatural blade out of the elf's forearm and disengaged, if only for a moment. That was Ash noticed that the Dark Blade seemed to be feeding off of the blood of Thoburas. It had once only been the size of a large dagger... now it was the size of a short sword. Unless she was only imagining it, but that seemed rather unlikely. She usually was quite alert during a fight to the death.

She had never been one to ever use a weapon larger than a dagger, so she expected something as big as a sword to be unwieldy within her hands. It was the opposite. The Dark Blade was weightless, practically lighter than the air itself. Moreover, a dark cloud was beginning to dominate her mind and entire body. The fatigue and damage done to her body during the duration of her fight with Thoburas seemed to magically disappear. She felt twice as strong and alert, and it took her only a moment to realize that the heartbeat that she could clearly hear wasn't her own, it was Thoburas'. That only further fueled a desire with Ash to snuff out that same heartbeat. It wasn't normal at all for her to be so bloodthirsty, but her desire for vengeance was being emboldened by the supernatural forces that were beginning to consume her. That was when Thoburas launched a fireball at her. It was more a last ditch effort to save his own life than anything else, and Ash's body ended up moving on its own. She slashed through the flames with the Dark Blade, reducing them to little more than a few hot embers. Thoburas had already collapsed to one knee, attempting to place pressure on his arm that was profusely bleeding. Thoburas was already a shell of his former self, far from the imposing juggernaut that he once was. His face had become so gaunt that it almost appeared as if he was only a breath's away from death. Likewise, his trademark grin had also been reduce to a halfhearted smile of defeat.

"Malachar... has... abandoned me." Thoburas spoke between labored breaths, almost as if his life force was escaping through his lips. "He... has chosen you... to be his new champion. Casting me... aside." Ash had tunnel vision now, bent towards a single purpose. She gripped the Dark Blade tighter as she began to approach Thoburas. "Kill me... and assume your rightful place as Malachar's champion!" As Thoburas said this, he closed his eyes, waiting for Ash to deliver the killing blow. If she was still in complete control, then she would have hesistated and struggled with the thought of doing the dark god's bidding. However, she was already far beyond that, and with a clean stroke, Ash cleaved Thoburas' head from his body. Blood sprayed out from the stump where his head had once been, but like the sacrifices from before, no blood would find its way to the stone floor.

The blood was drawn into the amorphous sphere of dark energy until there was none left. With her heightened senses, Ash managed to notice a new face form within the sphere - Thoburas. The final sacrifice. The screams of tormented souls finally ceased as the sphere finally broke free of its invisible shackles. As it came towards her, it lost it's spherical shape and became little more than a wave of dark smoke. For a moment, she thought it was going to consume her before it flew over her head, and out of the doors. It's destination was clearly to the outside, far away from its former prison. From there, she could only hazard to guess where it would go. The dark cloud in her mind mostly dissipated as well, and her fatigue and wounds suddenly reappeared. She ended up using much of her strength to keep herself from falling to the ground. The Dark Blade had reduced itself back to the size of a dagger, and she tucked it into her belt. Then she noticed, for the first time, the Mark of Malachar slowly forming on her right palm. This was only the beginning.

Of Blood and Bastards

Thoburas grinned. He took the sheath for the dark blade and ripped it off of his belt, thereby casting it aside. Truthfully, it was impossible to ascertain whether the elf was angry, amused, or indifferent about having the dark blade taken from him, his lack of sanity made any guesswork about him nearly impossible. As for Ash, her entire body ached. Her neck was severely bruised and it would surprise her at all if she found herself coughing up some blood later. Fortunately, she could safely ignore her present injuries. As long as she still breathed, she was resolved to do anything to continue the fight and kill Thoburas. Very little was left to her, considering she had already lost her weapons. Earlier she had to ditch her bow so that she could engineer her first sneak attack. Ash knew that she’d be beating herself up over the fact that she could have killed him if she hadn’t hesitated. She wouldn’t let the next opportunity slip through her fingers.

“The dark blade was forged in the fires of darkness and despair by Malachar himself. Can you hear its whispers yet? It has a mind of its own.” It would not be long before Rohaan would feel that something was off, even if he was a Vokurian. The unnatural energy that had been emanating throughout the area from before… much of it was coming from the dark blade itself. With enough focus, one could almost imagine a heartbeat coming from the blade itself. Thoburas hadn’t been lying or speaking in hyperbole. Any sensible person would be rid of the demented blade before its corruption spread to them. Still, there remained an allure to use the dark blade against its master…

“Hahaha! Are you feeling the influence? Promises of power beyond your wildest imagination? Don’t worry, soon you’ll embrace Malachar like I did so long ago. If I don’t kill you first!” Ultimately, the dark blade served as a direct conductor for Malachar’s influence within this world. During the last millennia, with many of the gates having been opened, his presence was the strongest than it had ever been. Still, he would be unable to maintain a corporeal form, resulting in the dark god serving as little more than a vengeful spirit. However, interacting with the dark blade allowed someone to truly feel the presence of the dark god.

Thoburas flashed his wide, sharp-toothed grin as he began to approach Rohaan. “You’re keeping your heart closed to him, aren’t you? No… no, no no! That won’t do at all! Don’t you know that he’s inevitable? His return has been foretold and shall come to pass. It’s futile to stand against him! A human… an elf… a Vokurian. None of us will have a place in his new world order if we don’t serve him faithfully.” With that said, Thoburas turned to the the amorphous black sphere, the screams of the sacrificed spirits reverberated throughout the room. Only one more soul. Thoburas knew it was time to kill the Vokurian.

In a sudden move, Thoburas turned to face Rohaan and reached out his hand, fully expecting the dark blade to fly back to him. Nothing at all happened. On a second glance, Thoburas could plainly see that the Vokurian in front of him was no longer in possession of the dark blade. How could that be? When did he have the opportunity to cast away the dark blade that he had taken from the elf? His connection to the dark blade gave him a sixth sense that allowed him to know of everything that was happening around him. It was then that the dark elf finally realized. His connection had been severed. The dark blade had found itself a new master. It was only through him sensing a shifting of air that he managed to turn quick enough to raise his right arm, only to find itself impaled by the dark blade itself, easily cutting through his skin and muscle with it’s dark energy. Vengeance had nearly fully consumed Ash as she was pushing the dark blade deeper into Thoburas’ arm. The elf would have appreciated this more, assuming that true fear wasn’t beginning to grip him entirely.

Of Blood and Bastards

Ash wasn’t afforded any opportunity to protest when Rohaan pinned her down to perform his maneuver that incinerated most of the shambling zombies. She wasn’t liking her odds of being able to successfully engage them all in close quarters, so she’d just have to forgive Rohaan. She could feel immense heat despite being shielded from the flames, which made her all the more appreciative that she was adequately protected. As the fire subsided and Rohaan allowed her to return to her feet, she gripped her dagger even tighter, more adamant than ever to kill Thoburas. Most of the zombies were completely blasted away, but a few managed to survive for a brief moment until the fire ate away at them to the point where they collapsed as well. A pleasant turn of events for both Rohaan and Ash, considering that they were fighting for their lives, though it went without saying that Thoburas wasn’t all too happy about how things turned out. For a brief moment, he stopped his incessant laughter. Ultimately, that moment passed as well, with Thoburas shrugging and sheathing the dark blade once again, as if he was merely writing off the undead horde that he had only just risen.

“Leave it to you two to ruin all the fun!” Thoburas seemed to be preparing to say something else, but it was at this moment that Rohaan launched an axe at him, forcing the elf to sidestep to avoid it. Ash then witnessed Rohaan transform himself into a wolf. Of course, she could stand aside and let Rohaan try his luck against Thoburas, but that wasn’t why she was here. Ash was here to kill Thoburas and she’d do anything within her power to ensure that she was the one to do so. She had no hard feelings towards Rohaan - he likely had a moral compass quite similar to her own. Still, at the end of the day, Rohaan was nothing more than a mercenary. For her, this was very personal and she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t deliver the killing blow. Perhaps Rohaan understood in his own way, or maybe he was more concerned with killing Thoburas using any means at his disposal. Even if he didn’t mean for his rush at Thoburas to be a distraction, Ash would use it one.

Probably by sheer instinct, Thoburas backed off from Rohaan. Even he wasn’t insane enough to want to fight a feral wolf head on. This placed him well within the range of Ash, and she promptly went in for the killing blow, without any hesitation. She only managed to graze Thoburas on the cheek despite her best efforts. Worse still, she overextended herself, allowing Thoburas to land a hit on her elbow, jarring her entire arm and disarming her in the process. Her arm momentarily went numb, which could definitely become dangerous in hand-to-hand combat, which the status of current events had all of a sudden been reduced to. Thoburas kept the dark blade in its sheath, as if he was eager to toy around with Ash for as long as he could.

Ash was hardly going to stand by and wait for Thoburas to gain any advantage over her. She slammed her knee into the elf’s stomach to properly give her the opportunity to regain the feeling in her arm. Such an attack would have dropped anyone else, but Thoburas barely flinched. She was becoming all the more appreciative of the thorough training Lord Cassander had given her ever since her early childhood. Back then, there had been a thousand nights where her body ached so much that she could barely move. She complained then, but not now. Ash managed to block an incoming blow from Thoburas. She didn’t believe she had ever received a hit that had so much power behind it. Ash was just happy that it didn’t break her arm as it sent her sliding across the stone pavement by a few feet. Ash then landed a powerful kick to Thoburas temple. This time the elf dropped to one knee with blood streaming down the side of his head, yet all he offered in return was another of one of his sinister grins.

Like earlier in the fight, Thoburas was on her quicker than she could react, grabbing her by the throat and bringing her close towards him. She really couldn’t understand how he was still fighting at the same pace before… the kick that she had landed on him must have at least given him a concussion. He flashed his sharp teeth at her as he licked the side of her cheek with an abnormally long tongue.

“Hahaha… there’s something different about you. Not quite human, but I just can’t place it. So frustrating!” At this point, he had raised her off the ground by a few inches, despite all of Ash’s struggling. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. The dark blade is singing to me! Only one more sacrifice before the gate is no more! HAHAHA!”

“It could be you… especially with all the trouble you’ve given me so far. Still... I’d rather save you for last. Then I'd have all the time in the world to play with you.” Thoburas gave Ash an inquistive look as he began to sniff at her hair. The elf was visibly drooling. “You know what? That’s exactly what I’ll do!” With that he tossed Ash aside as if she was nothing more than a half-stuffed ragdoll.

Thoburas turned to face Rohaan with his trademark grim smile and laughter. “I think I’ll give Malachar your soul instead!”

Of Blood and Bastards

Death. It filled the room like a dense fog, so thick that you could easily choke upon it. This dark aura was anything but natural. It was much more than just a smell, though that was more than easily detected by anyone who had a nose. No, it was its own influence, with its own ability to bear its own weight against someone’s soul. At least, that was more or less the case for a normal person. As for the cultists, most had performed such dark deeds that this dark aura was adding strength to their corrupted souls, especially when it came to Thoburas. This elf of darkness was covered in the same black robes as all the other cultists, which made them more or less impossible to tell apart at first glance. However, Thoburas wielded the dark blade, and from that it was easy to see who truly wielded the power within the cult.

The chamber itself was large. It was almost something that was taken straight from someone’s imagination, based entirely on the sheer size of the room itself. The massive arched ceiling would make you strain your neck if you desired to see the very top, assuming you were here to appreciate the architecture. It was only further highlighted by the various decorations and statues that were all dedicated to Malachar the Dread Lord. Since this room was dedicated to the worship of Malachar, perhaps it wasn’t all too strange that it was hidden so far underground with its great doors sealed. Still, there were clear indications that the cultists weren’t the first people to venture into this room in the last thousand years. The secrets that this room held were quite simply unknowable.

Then, the next captive was dragged before Thoburas. There was no struggle to bring her before the mad elf, since it was resoundingly clear that she still remained under the magical influence of Thoburas. With a simple wave of his hand, the woman’s glazed over eyes disappeared and she promptly returned back to reality. It took an extended period for the woman to realize where she was and the situation that she now found herself in, but when she did, her entire composure completely broke down. She began to sob uncontrollably, all the while begging Thoburas to let her go. It was quite the display, but unfortunately for the woman who stood before him, Thoburas was a sadist. If he had been merciful, he would have been content to leave the woman in her stupor, but where was the fun in that? With a flick of his wrist, the dark blade opened up the woman’s throat, yet not a single drop of blood reached the floor.

The dark portal had already reformed itself into an amorphous sphere of black smoke. Tendrils, arms, legs, and other limbs seemed to shift throughout the entire sphere, growing and then disappearing just as quickly as they had appeared. Faces could be seen from within the smoke, likely of those who had already been sacrificed. It drew in the blood from the open wound on the woman’s neck until she was nothing but an empty husk. Her corpse was then moved with the others by the same cultists that had dragged her to her doom. Looking closely, you could now see her face within the smoke, screaming in agony. For a moment, the dark blade emitted a strange glow, the same as the carved symbol in the floor below him. To a bystander, this was indication that this entire room was built from the beginning to hold this dark ritual.

Dark energy and magic encompassed Thoburas’ entire being. However, it radiated much farther than just within his own vicinity. Part of the magic that obfuscated the minds of men, it was spread throughout the fortress like a spider web. He could feel every heartbeat. Badump, Badump. Every heartbeat would reverberate throughout him, especially when they picked up in pace. And that included every heartbeat that had been stopped by him prematurely. Of course, that was always the most enjoyable part. Ultimately, that meant that no one could ever hope to escape Thoburas’ notice; not even a rat.

Thoburas was already walking down the steps from the heightened stone platform when the rat turned into a cyradan. A Vokurian, though Thoburas had already known that much. The cyradan tossed a hapless cultist at Thoburas’ feet. Barely still alive, but that was all that mattered. He raised his dark blade and pierced through the chest of his fellow follower of Malachar, and his blood was quickly consumed like all the others. Another was sent flying, crashing through a statue of Malachar before landing against the wall, killing the cultist instantly. A waste of both a statue and a sacrifice. Corpse’s blood was of no use to him, especially if the soul had already passed from the body. It was much the same for the poor fools who were set aflame. Then the cyradan cast a jet of flames at him, and without hesitation, Thoburas jumped through the flames.

On the other side, Thoburas cast aside his inflamed cloak as it burned away into ash, yet not an inch of his body seemed to have been touched by the flames. He was shirtless, with the dark blade safely placed within its sheath. His skin had a grayish hue, which was rather unnatural for an elf. He was tall and lithe, yet he was far more muscular than most elves. What was more noticeable was the Dark Speech carved directly into his skin all over his body. Each symbol likely represented a different ward or curse, though only a fool would ever attempt to read any of it aloud. Without proper training, it was more or less guaranteed death to the speaker. Thoburas’ head was shaved… and his eyes gave a fair impression of his mental instability. He grinned with teeth that were far sharper than they had any right to be.

“Oh joy! Oh wondrous joy!” Thoburas hugged himself as he swayed side to side, filling the entire room with his maniacal laughter. “Malachar whispers to me. Oh yes he does! All the time! He teaches me so much…” Thoburas trailed off as he turned to look upon the amorphous smoke, mesmerized by all its glory.

“Do you know what he told me? Do you? Of course you don’t! How could you?” As Thoburas turned to face Rohaan he was so consumed by laughter that it was as if he had told the funniest joke in the world. “He told me that old Karl Valdemar sent someone to kill me! Is that supposed to be you?” He continued to laugh as his head cocked to the side.

“I’ve killed Vokurians before.” Thoburas spoke matter-of-factly - as if such actions were so mundane that they were barely even worth mentioning. “I’ve never eaten a Vokurian though… I wonder what you taste like?” He licked his lips, flashing his teeth while he did so. He then reached for the dark blade, but he suddenly stopped.

Thoburas felt cold steel pressed up against the side of his neck. It was enough to draw blood. Impossible. His magic guaranteed that it was impossible for anyone to sneak up on him. Besides, he had never sensed that the Vokurian had a companion, nor did Malachar ever say that Karl Valdemar had sent more than one assassin against him. There was no way that he’d ever be lied to by his beloved dark god. An actual lump formed in his throat, but he couldn’t turn his head to see the assassin that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. The blade on his neck assured that impossibility.

“I’ll give you one chance. Get on your knees.” Ash’s words were full of venom and vengeance, all the while keeping significant pressure with her blade. Thoburas only gave his usual grin and his right hand twitched towards the dark blade. A mistake. Within a fluid motion, Ash locked in Thoburas’ left arm, ensuring that she now had the leverage to use the elf’s own weight to bring him off balance. In moments, the elf was on his stomach, with Ash’s right knee pressed in between his shoulder blades. At the same time, she held the elf’s left arm in such a way that he’d have to willingly break his own arm to break the hold.

“I warned you. Now you die.” Ash held up her dagger and then promptly went in for the killing blow. Before she managed to find her mark, a sickening pop could be heard. Thoburas had dislocated his own arm without a single moment of hesitation. She had completely lost her leverage and before she could react in time, a fist connected with the underneath of her jaw. She went flying, losing her dagger in the process.

Thoburas moved faster than even an elf had any right to, and he was on top of her before she even knew what had happened. With his right hand, he clamped down on her throat, squeezing the life out of her. “DIE! DIE!! DIE!!!” Thoburas screamed and laughed at the top of his lungs, clearly gaining pleasure by causing pain to his opponent. Ash didn’t have the positioning to easily get Thoburas off of her. The longer that she struggled without success, the more spotty her vision became. What was more an act of desperation than anything else, her arm reached out, with her thumb managing to connect with Thoburas’ left eye.

Thoburas reeled back with pain, releasing his grasp of Ash. She coughed and spat some of the blood out of her mouth. She was now lightheaded, but still had her wits about her to get to her feet and pull out her other dagger. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted an incoming cultist with a mace, and she successfully managed to sidestep him. With her dagger, she opened up his unprotected belly, causing his guts to fall to the stone floor. The cultist attempted to scoop up his intestines back inside of him for a moment, but it wasn’t long before he crumpled over lifeless. In a quick motion, Ash discarded her hood and cloak, revealing her raven black hair that was braided down the length of her back, and her well-maintained leather under-armor.

Thoburas himself was no longer stunned either. His left eye was now closed and bleeding, but it didn’t seem to hinder his new grin. With a quick pop, he placed his left shoulder back into its socket. “Ha… two against one? That’s not fair!” The elf was entirely disregarding the few cultists that were still left alive. At least he was being truthful for once. At that, he raised the dark blade and it glowed ominously. Every corpse that it had touched rose back to life. Necromancy.

“Well, fuck.” Ash managed to growl out of her damaged throat as she resumed a combat stance against Thoburas. It certainly wasn't being lost upon her that she was slowly being surrounded by zombies. The only thing that Thoburas resumed was his own ceaseless laughter.

Of Blood and Bastards

By this time, Ash had already lit the torch that she had made earlier. It only allowed Ash and Rohaan to see around six feet in front of them, but when they were wandering within dark tunnels, it was honestly better than nothing. Besides, Ash was making sure to light every lantern that they came across as they ventured deeper into the tunnels. There was really no risk of them being followed, and if someone somehow managed to, Ash suspected Rohaan would be able to make short work of them. She would never dispute that she felt much more comfortable having a Vokurian on her side. Or rather, their interests were similarly aligned for the time being. She barely knew him and he barely knew her. Ash could hardly expect him to watch out for her beyond the facet of his basic moral character. As a function of the both of them finding themselves on this dangerous mission, she’d do her best to watch his back.

Ash had grown up within the walls of Durgan, and she knew the tunnels well. Or at least she had found herself lost within them so often that she had been more or less forced to learn its many twists and turns. She had gone to these on more than one occasion to slip out of the castle by avoiding any prying eyes. It was odd. It wasn’t so long ago that she preferred solitude over that of having to deal with the lively court of Durgan. Now she’d give just about anything to return to that simpler time. Now she was on a quest to kill a cult leader that was trying to resurrect a dark god. How did she end up here?

Well, she knew exactly how she had ended up here. Though, to be fair, things had been moving extraordinarily fast for the last few days. It was beyond personal for her by this point, which strengthened her resolve to see her vendetta through. Her only singular desire at this particular time was to ensure the death of Thoburas, an elf that she hadn’t even heard of until earlier this very day. Ash had never been so angry or so full of hatred before, especially concerning a single individual. Yet here she was, and there would be no greater satisfaction for her until the elf was dead by her own hand. She shifted her gaze momentarily to Rohaan as they continued on. She supposed it would be acceptable if he was the one to kill Thoburas instead, so long as the elf ended up dead.

It wasn’t all that long before they got to where they needed to be - Ash did know the layout of these tunnels extremely well after all. Before them were massive stone doors, inscribed with ancient runes that she couldn’t read, and she had never met anyone who could reliably decipher what they were supposed to say. These doors were ordinarily sealed, but it was clear even in the gloom that the seal had been broken with brute force. Thoburas obviously wasn’t a patient man by any means. For now, she kept her distance, already hearing muffled voices from within. She extinguished her torch before turning to Rohaan.

Out of caution, Ash kept her voice low. “Yeah, I like your plan. There happens to be another entrance that I stumbled on years ago.” Truthfully, it was a nice childhood memory, but she didn’t really have time to be overly nostalgic at the present moment. “So long as you can keep anyone in there occupied until I’m in position.”

Of Blood and Bastards

A playful smile appeared upon the Emperor’s face. It seemed that he still found Rohaan’s continued defiance to be amusing. “Even an old dog can learn new tricks with enough perseverance and a willful master. Yet, I am not looking for blind loyalty and you have your own ways to ensure that I keep my end of the bargain. As I said before - we remain equals in this partnership.”

“Underestimate you? Perhaps. Still, I knew most of what I was getting myself into. I wouldn’t be in the position that I am now if I was prone to make rash or foolish decisions. You’ve already managed to surprise me in a variety of ways so far, and very few that I’ve encountered have ever done the same.”

“For now, it would be for the best to check your arrogance. Thoburas is not one to be taken lightly. Besides, I’d much prefer him dead than you.” That last warning wasn’t lost upon Ash at all. She didn’t know much about necromancy, or much about magic at all really. What did she really know about the danger than Thoburas posed to her and everyone else? Nothing, and that remained painfully clear to her. But it didn’t matter. She had never spent a second of her life second guessing herself, or wallowing in self-pity about something that didn’t seem possible at first. For better or for worse Ash was the kind of girl that left caution in the wind. Moreover, she didn’t have much choice in the matter this time around. The faces of Lord Cassander and all the people whom she had grown with were flashing through her mind.

“I’ll kill him.” The words were few and simple, but the delivery contained so much more. As each word left Ash’s lips, they were spoken with such venom that almost any man would have reeled back in shock. There was also a commanding aura to it, revealing without question, her true heritage. It wasn’t a thoughtless statement, nor was it something as bland or meaningless as a promise that she was making to all who listened. No, it was spoken in such a way that Thoburas’ death was a certainty. No matter the challenge that would have to be overcome, Ash would do anything to ensure the death of the wayward elf. Her gaze was intense and directed at the Emperor, the only man with the same eyes as hers.

It went without saying that the Emperor was no normal man, and he didn’t so much as budged in the presence of Ash as any lesser man would have if they were to have the misfortune of taking his place. Of course, it was easily noticed by anyone watching that the Emperor was clearly quite pleased by this sudden change in his daughter’s persona. It seemed that he had some words for Ash, but he ended up holding onto them while they both were still in the presence of Rohaan.

“Dead is dead. This is no competition - it is only important that the elf is relieved of his pitiful existence. All that I can ask from you is to avoid putting yourself in harm’s way.” A touching response from the man that was Ash’s true father. Or it would be if she hadn’t known that this concern was only due to the fact that she continued to remain expressly useful to his future plans. At least there would be no love lost between father and daughter.

“Once this affair is dealt with, there will be much for the two of us to discuss. About your future and the future of the Empire.” With that said, the Emperor turned his attention away from his daughter to face Rohaan. “As for you… I must admit that I have other tasks that would be perfect for your skill set. Of course, that is a discussion for another day. It’s best for all if focus is placed on the challenge that is currently in front of us.”

“Once Thoburas is dead, contact me with the ring like you are doing now. I’ll have further instructions for the both of you then.” With that, the Emperor removed the ring from his hand and his image finally dissipated. The warm burning sensation that the ring had been emitting to Ash also went away. Without a second thought, Ash took her ring off and threaded it through a long, thin leather strap to create a makeshift necklace. It was probably for the best to keep the magical item secure for the time being. This also allowed her the opportunity to remove her hand from Rohaan’s shoulder, which was a good thing, considering that her arm was beginning to cramp.

Ash immediately went to her feet, running her fingers through her hair in an exasperated sigh. “Why the fuck couldn’t I have been the bastard daughter of a farmer?” The outburst stood in stark contrast to the demeanor that she had only moments before, though it was ultimately directed at no one in particular. Realizing that Rohaan was still present to silently judge her, Ash managed to quickly regain her composure.

With a little craftsmanship, she managed to fashion what would serve as a torch once lit. Without question, the tunnels were far too dark to make your way through without using artificial light. There were lanterns that lined the walls, but they had to be manually lit to be of much use. Obviously, that would be their indication that they were getting close to where the cult was operating at. She knew what chamber that they needed to get to, but there was a maze of tunnels to navigate first.

“Um, do me a favor and don’t change into anything that weird, okay?” Despite it being intended to be humorous, it was honestly a sincere request coming from Ash. Without waiting for a serious reply, she took one last look at Durgan Fortress in the distance, and ventured forward into the hidden entrance that would lead them into the belly of the beast.

Of Blood and Bastards

"My dear shiftling... you make it seem almost as if I want you to fail." A sense of mischief flashed across the Emperor's face so quickly that Ash barely managed to catch a glimpse of it. From what she had observed from the Emperor so far, it seemed rather uncharacteristic of him, but she supposed that she didn't truly know that man all that well. The man’s cunning seemed to be otherworldly, yet would it be wise of her to discount the depravities that are capable of one man? She really didn’t know, though she certainly wouldn’t mind knowing exactly what was going on in the Emperor’s head. Something was off and things just didn’t feel right. Did Rohaan feel the same? He had to; the Shifter was no fool. It was so odd - recognizing that they were now unlikely allies. She’d have to make the most of it for now.

“My chief concern is the death of Thoburas. Insofar as that, we remain aligned, least of all due to the reward you will be entitled to at this end of this sorted affair. Thus, there’s no need for you to think of clever ways in which you plan to blackmail me.” The Emperor shrugged as if even addressing the issue was a waste of time for him. “If you think a Vokurian can ever convince an empire of the misdeeds of their emperor, then you’re welcome to try. Just admit that I’m your only friend among Man.”

“More importantly, your ‘methods’ are of no interest to me, so long as Thoburas turns up dead. If your personal morality facilitates that objective, then so be it. Our previously agreed upon terms shall remain intact, so there’s nothing to worry about on that front.” The Emperor proceeded to divert his gaze to Ash, once again acknowledging his daughter. “I don’t expect that you’ll stand aside as the Vokurian conducts this operation. Besides, you’re the only one on hand that could prevent him from getting hopelessly lost in the tunnels underneath the fortress.”

If Durgan was the most impressive structure on this side of the continent, then the intricacies of the tunnels below were just as amazing. Some claimed that these were the constructions of the Dwarves, though they were rarely taken seriously. No person from the last few Ages had ever even seen a Dwarf, and most scholars generally accepted the belief that they were nothing but a myth. In truth, there are already much stranger creatures that currently inhabit the world. The tunnels were complex enough to easily get lost in if you had no idea what you’re doing. Ash had grown up exploring these tunnels so she knew them better than most. And she believed that she already knew where Thoburas was performing his dark ritual - the one subterranean chamber that her adoptive father, Lord Cassander, had always forbade her from going into.

“I can get Rio where he needs to go, so long as he doesn’t slow me down.” It was said in jest to lighten the mood, though Ash ended up giving Rohaan a look that suggested she wasn’t entirely unserious.

The Emperor only shrugged at Ash’s offhand comments. “It can only be good if you manage to teach him some humility. Vokurian pride can be a dangerous thing.”

“As for Thoburas… he’s a verifiable lunatic. Despite his madness, he still possesses a decent amount of cunning, which I’ve learned to my detriment. He remains the only true threat.” Ash regarded the Emperor’s words carefully, but she didn’t really care how capable the elf was. She’d make sure that he was dead. “As for his followers, they are of little concern on a whole. Nothing but simple brutes, mostly mercenaries. The rest are sadists and men of ill repute. These sort of men tend to congregate with each other. None of them are sorcerers of any consequence; Thoburas would never associate with someone that could directly oppose him. A desire to hoard this dark knowledge for only himself was so all encompassing that it was difficult for me to actually collaborate with him.”

“Thoburas is quite focused on keeping me from acting against him directly with the present ward that he was in place. I wouldn’t expect any other traps since he has no one else that is working to stop him other than myself. This is what makes the two of you my wildcards.” The Emperor began to fidget a bit, twisting at the ring on his finger. “The elf is a master necromancer that specializes in curses and illusions. I’m aware that Vokurians are resistant to this kind of magic - that is part of the reason why I enlisted you in the first place. If he was easy to kill, I would have done so long ago.”

Of Blood and Bastards

Rohaan was making no great effort to engage with the Emperor diplomatically, and that was one small detail that was exceptionally easy to notice. The Emperor seemed to be more bemused by this than anything, at least that seemed to be the case from Ash’s limited point of view. Whatever had been promised to the Shifter by the Emperor was more than just gold. In terms of specifics, there was really no way that Ash could possibly guess. Just how valuable was she to the Emperor? One could argue that it revolved around her being his daughter, but that wasn’t quite it. She detected absolutely no paternal love emanating from the man who called himself her father. If she was nothing but another tool in his eyes, then he would be left disappointed.

“Better prepared?” By all indications, the Emperor was once again amused by the words of the Vokurian that stood before him. “Did you not fly directly to Durgan only to immediately encounter my daughter? Circumstances couldn’t have played out any better.”

“If you are speaking in regards to this new task… well, I see no reason for you to have any concerns. I have an interest in seeing the elf dead beyond anything else.” The Emperor was calm and collected, Ash could see that much. Did Rohaan truly believe that he could outwit and gain the upperhand on the Emperor of Man? The Vokurian was far too confident not to have something hanging over the head of the Emperor, but what exactly was it? She already knew there was no way that the Shifter would reveal that secret to her, and that annoyed her.

“Besides, you already have confidence that I will uphold my end of the bargain.” It was obvious that Rohaan didn’t trust the Emperor based on his word - it was his gloved hand. Ash noticed as Rohaan briefly assumed the Emperor’s form. That was what the Emperor was hiding! Still, Ash couldn’t fathom to guess what the glove was actually hiding. Illness? Disease? It was all a crapshoot in the end. It must be serious, if Rohaan was so confident that he’d threaten to reveal it.

“I do have to warn you that it takes a special kind of bravery to threaten me. And it takes a fool to try to play a card before they even know what it is.” The Emperor simply shrugged, as if leaving what he just said as nothing more than a passing thought. He raised his hand, bringing it to attention on his own terms. “I’ll show you what is under this glove after you kill Thoburas and deliver my daughter to me. No strings attached.”

Whether or not the Emperor was being wholly sincere or not, Ash couldn’t really tell. This was the first time she had ever met him, but she was already beginning to form an educated opinion of the man. It wasn’t an especially good one. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was wise to cross this kind of man, though she had a habit of making rash decisions, so it was probably only inevitable for her. At the various mentions of Malachar, her ears perked up and she spoke aloud the first thing that came to her head. “Guard your soul, Malachar may steal it in the night…”

The Emperor had a slight smile on his face as he turned to regard his daughter. “Mhm, yes. Though I think you might be paraphrasing.” Ash’s cheeks grew a bit red. She had to sit through a thousand sermons when she was a young girl, though she had more or less avoided anything that had to do with the church for the last several years.

“For our uncultured friend here, Malachar is a god with malevolent intentions. Each race and culture have their own interpretations of him… perhaps the Vokurians even worship him?” Despite the Emperor’s snide comment, Ash didn’t think that the Shifters held Malachar in high regard. Then again, she knew next to nothing about the Vokurians, considering Rohaan was the only Shifter she had ever had an extended conversation with.

“To keep things simple, Malachar is known for his cunning and trickery. His plots resulted in the other gods to fight amongst themselves and he tried to enter the mortal plane to claim it as his own domain during the chaos. The few remaining deities banded together and punished Malachar, cutting him in twelve pieces. Each piece was sealed behind a different gate.”

“If you recall, there were once eleven Elven Kingdoms, with each one responsible for a lesser gate. If the eleven lesser gates were to be opened, then the final greater gate could then be unsealed. Of course, the Elven Kingdoms were destroyed when Man sailed to these lands from across the sea.”

“I’ve been to many of these gates. Most were broken open long ago and are nothing more than an empty husk and ruin. I had one gate unsealed upon the advice of Thoburas…” The Emperor glanced down at his gloved hand. “I don’t believe there is a malevolent god sealed behind those gates, but what I’ve witnessed there proved to me that I cannot allow another gate to be opened."