Chapter 15: On Humanity
Arrien and Tilanne rested in the shade of a palm tree, watching as the men worked on securing a cannon on the top level on the fortress, which was looking more and more intimidating every day. The walls now bristled with spikes and several smaller cannons were pointed out of the windows. By no means did it look impenetrable, but people would certainly think twice before attacking. They turned their attention elsewhere for a moment, to see Giles and a few other of the men standing around what appeared to be a blue crystalline statue of a rather ugly pirate who was missing his left leg, which Arrien noted was lying on the ground next to him.
"What is that?" She wondered aloud.
"Handsome Jim, although, if you ask me, a bit of a misnomer," Tilanne snickered, looking at the semi-toothless sneer on the glimmering pirate, "had a bad run-in with a basilisk when we were out hunting the other day. Poor fool looked straight in the beast's eyes."
"So we have more than just the fort for denfense, eh? Unpleasant creatures all around, too..."
"Oh, basilisks are only somewhat unpleasant... very territorial. And very tasty," the druid laughed, "those were basilisk steaks we ate last night."
"Tasted good... a bit tough, though."
"Ah, well, you can only do so much with the meat of a giant lizard. The boys were too impatient to let it marinade for a bit to make it more tender," Tilanne sighed, slumping down further against the palm.
"At least there hasn't been too much more killing," Arrien said, "except that little skirmish over who got the last pineapple at dinner last night... that just got ugly."
"I've never seen someone killed by a spoon before... that was a very unpleasant mess," Tilanne couldn't help but laugh, though, "you humans are a very odd bunch. Very varied... Night Elves have different personalities and such, of course... but we're not as... diverse, as you people are. I'm just glad that these," she gestured at the pirates, "aren't the only examples of humans I've seen, else I'd find them a disgusting lot... are most like them or more like you?"
"I'd like to think that there are more of the good kind than the crude, vile kind," Arrien grunted softly, "but the more I see of the world, the more I see that the lot of them are cruel and conniving, always struggling to get what they want at any cost." There was a calm silence that broke out after Arrien finished this sentence, the working men finally having gotten their cannon in place, and Giles apparently giving up on restoring Handsome Jim to his original state. He may not be good looking now, Arrien thought to herself, but at least he's nice and shiny.
The moment of peace was broken by a loud crack and the smell of sulfur, green and black flames swirling up from the sand about twenty yards away from Arrien and Tilanne.
"It's the Legion! They've come to finish us off!" She heard a cry from the sailors. Her eyebrow lifted slightly at the sight, a chill crawling slowly up her arms towards her chest, making her heart feel icy cold. She recognized this... this was demonic magic. Next to her, she could see that Tilanne had bared her teeth and was emitting a soft growl, her back arched slightly. It amazed Arrien just how much like a cat Tilanne acted even when not shapeshifted, the sight gave her back the smallest amount of warmth in her heart, but that was quickly crushed when the form of a young man tumbled out of the flames, crashing face-first into the sand. A few of the men rushed over, swords drawn. Arrien and Tilanne jumped to their feet, both of them slinking over, ready for the worst. The young man was completely bald, his skin paler than the near-white sand he was starting to stir in, a soft groan emanating from his throat.
"Water..." he croaked, and Arrien felt chills shoot through her body yet again, "Falrevere... where... where's Duke Falrevere?" He coughed, obviously very weakened by the teleportation spell he had just accomplished. Tilanne's nose twitched a bit and she muttered softly.
"I smell the Nether on this one... he is tainted," she knelt and helped the man up, however against her better judgement it may have been. Arrien saw that she recoiled in disgust, but forced herself to remain in contact with him. One of the men had already brought over a skin of water and was helping the warlock get it down his throat.
"Where is Duke Falrevere?" He demanded.
"Lester?" the young man turned in response to his name, his dark eyes lighting up slightly as he ran over and bowed deeply before the Duke.
"I thought you'd gone off to investigate the Cult of the Damned, to join their ranks," the Duke stated matter-of-factly. Arrien's entire body froze. This terrible person had been one of the people who helped destroy her village? Before she realized it, she had a hand on her spell component pouch, but she felt her wrist seized immediately. She followed the hand up to see Tilanne, who just shook her head in a firm negative.
"I saw the things that they did... the horrific abominations, and realized I'd not the stomach for it," the young man, Lester, sighed, acting as if the entire ordeal was boring to him, "I decided to track you down with scrying and come join you... you've always been kind to me."
"I have... and maybe some of that dark magic I indulged you in will be useful to me... the Nether knows how useful my arcanists have been, the nastier bits you could supply could do a great deal, indeed! Maybe you could even train my current mages in your ways," Falrevere looked pointedly at Arrien, and then to Giles, who had come to stand close to her. "But, then again, they might not have the backbones to deal with demons on such an intimate level." Arrien turned to Giles, whose lip was upturned in disgust at the warlock. "Come, Lester," Falrevere said, "You must tell me of the mainland... it has been too long since I've received news."
As soon as they were out of earshot, Giles sneered, "Well, if this crew wasn't vile enough before, it certainly is now... I've met warlocks before, and not all of them are purely sinister." He sounded like he wasn't completely convinced in his own previous sentence, "but I don't see any good coming of that son of a whore being here."
Arrien turned to look at Tilanne, who had a hardened look on her face, barely an emotion emanating from her silvery eyes, the young mage opened her mouth to say something, but Tilanne turned and stalked off, sitting back under the tree without a word. Another chill shot down Arrien's back... she had a very, very bad feeling about this.