A/N: About time the guys have some venting by hacking somebody to pieces, methinks:)
To Whoever whatever (as if that isn't a weirdest address :) – thank you and I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story.
XXIV: Matter of Aggravation
After they finally managed to stopple Grobnar's mouth with food and have a snack themselves, they went further. It was still a couple of hours before sunset, hours that shouldn't have been wasted on anything else than the road. Somehow the prospect of trampling through Duskwood at night wasn't exactly appealing. Adele understood that they moved along the periphery of the forest, yet they were within the reach of the most disturbing echo of the heart of the wood. Rustles and creaks were now sometimes followed by the noises of quite animal's origin. From time to time they heard distant howls that sounded like wolfish, but at the same time… different. Besides, Adele saw how at every burst of those howls Karnwyr jerked his head up, skimming over the surroundings, his yellow eyes gleaming, lips drawing back to reveal long wet hangs, ears flatting, grey fur standing on end on the back of his neck…
That wasn't encouraging. Not at all.
So Adele wasn't surprised to find her palm already lying on the hilt of her rapier – even more so, she felt immensely grateful to that trained palm, because was too much absorbed with the environment to think about what her body should do.
But no animals appeared, as if not even noticing the travelleres. Adele thought that, perhaps, it had something to do with the foul smell left from Bishop's potion back at the camp, for its traces still lingered on their clothes and hair. But casting occasional sidelong glances at Elanee, whose face appeared self-possessed bordering on strained, the woman guessed that their luck was partly due to the druidess as well. Sometimes Elanee returned her looks, escorting them with a slight encouraging smile, which grounded Adele in her guesses even more.
Others gradually took up the same order of walking they had kept before camp – as always united and perfect when there was little to no talking and, therefore, no possibilities for arguing. Adele was glad of the set queue, because it reduced her run-ins with the leading ranger almost to a naught, leaving her only following his shade in the distance, her eyes picking their beacon in the feathering of his arrows sticking out of the quiver, swaying slightly over his shoulder in tact with his steps.
She expected gibes, of course, implied insults and all other joys of the Bastardland, but during the hours passed Bishop refrained – though the woman couldn't shake off the feeling that after their clash his sudden silence screamed louder than any words or actions. It was as if Bishop had somehow developed new, even deeper level of mockery, worse than before because now it existed only for the two of them. She couldn't deny that she had it coming, so paid back in kind, cutting down what little encounters they had to mute dialogues between a quirked up eyebrow and a soft blank smile. That earned them understandable wary glances of others, like they expected the pair to try and tear each other throats every moment. Only Neeshka looked suspiciously wily. But the tiefling never really needed any special encouragement to appear mischievous.
"Hold on," Bishop's voice broke through her thoughts, and she winced at the sudden déjà vu caused by the words and the tone, the very words and tone he had had when he spotted an ambush at Ember. Collecting herself, she looked around to fathom what was wrong this time.
They descended yet another small hill, finding themselves on a clearing. Not like they hadn't encountered several on their way, but this one was different. It surrounded a single tree, mighty, harsh and just as grey as everything in the forest. No other vegetation, not even a single bush dared to grow close to it, and the only occupant of the clearing stood prominent in its proud solitude. There was no wind, and withered stranded leaves that fell lazily from the branches seemed to float in the air, nearly freezing there, before landing on the cold ground, appearing almost black in Duskwood gloom.
"…Creepy tree," Neeshka muttered near her right shoulder, also looking around, and Adele felt the tiefling's tail brush briskly over her own calf. Indeed, something about the tree drew attention. Something… wrong.
"Going to say 'hi' to it or what?" Qara grumbled, but her voice lacked its usual scorn, replaced with sheer weariness. Before any of them could reply, Elanee suddenly pushed herself between the sorceress and Neeshka, almost shoving them aside, and strode purposefully towards the tree. "By Kossuth's flames," the girl groaned, watching the elf making her way firmly, "I was joking!"
"El?" Adele called out for the druidess, but even if Elanee heard her, she didn't reply.
"Smells like a dryad," Bishop observed, running his thumb over the bowstring with an arrow prepared.
"Is it bad?" Adele asked quietly, rationally deciding that possibility of a threat to their lives was a fine enough reason to start using her voice on the ranger.
"Depends," seemed that Bishop was quite able of being rational, too. "Think the druid's about to find that out," the muscles in his cheeks twitched as he clenched his jaws, "and make it bad."
Adele didn't answer, already going deeper into the clearing to catch up with Elanee.
"Heh, tree-hugger," Khelgar muttered into his beard, but followed nonetheless.
"…El?"
The druidess stopped, throwing her head a bit back to take in the whole tree. "Show yourself, sprite," she ordered, and there was no mistaking of detest in her voice that made Adele slower her steps and reach for her weapon once again. "I can feel your taint heavy in this place, so you won't fool me."
"El, what the…?"
Adele didn't finish her question and took an involuntary step back, when the bark on the huge stem started moving. The others also stopped, without any agreement forming a semi-circle around the tree, ready to fight if and whatever needed. All the chaps and wrinkles of the bark crawled, flowing together, blending with each other, and a moment later a thin arm, just as grey, worked itself free from the tree. Long fingers grabbed the nearest branch firmly, using it as a hold to draw out the elbow, then the bicep, the shoulder, the neck – and then, finally, the head, crowned with a shock of thick matted hair of dirty-green that fell freely over the face, beautiful but stolid, clear-cut, as if carved out of timber by the sharpest of knives. Eyes without any whites or iris, of the same dull grey colour, found Elanee easily, and the dryad's lips parted, letting out a harsh rustling voice, that sounded like a wind forcing its way through dry leaves and broken branches:
"And what claim do you have over this place, druid, to come here and demand me facing you?" her gaze slid over the rest of them, then stopped on Adele, face hardening. "Lorne! What stupid joke is this?"
Lorne…?
Adele blinked, but, thankfully, wasn't able to answer right away, as at that moment Sand stared pointedly at her: "Yes, Lorne, explain yourself to the lady."
…He's kidding, right? They are all kidding…
"What…?" Casavir started to object, but Neeshka's foot landed firmly on his, and the paladin lapsed into silence, glancing at the tiefling with bewilderment.
Adele licked her lips, not tearing her eyes off the dryad, who regarded her in return with a contemptuous gaze that only briefly flicked back to Elanee.
"Is this your plaything?" the tree-nymph mocked. "Did she take you so long to come back?"
"She is right here, sprite," the elf answered coldly, "and she prefers to be addressed directly."
"I bet she does," the dryad laughed. "Have you not told her of our dealing, Lorne? Or she thinks you were born such a delicate blood-thirsty female?"
Elanee's eyes widened, disdain in them fading to pure anger, and Adele felt her own blood freeze in her veins as they, probably, shared the same thought.
She did it. She helped the godsdamned Garius' dog to disguise himself.
"It does not matter what she thinks," Adele's voice came out more of a snarl as she put her hands to her hips, allowing the bluff-river to take her away. The druidess fell back, giving her space and time, her whole frame rigid in apprehension. "Our dealing is between you and me, others are of no importance. Leave them be," she added, hoping her companions would get the hint and use the time to prepare for a battle. Because, by the name of every frigging god, she was not going to let the sprite live a long happy life after she drew what information she could.
"You've grown bold, Lorne," the dryad scoffed, thankfully too taken by the impudence of her assumed accomplice to pay attention to others. Or, indeed, disregarding them as nothing more than puppets. "Especially for the one who still hadn't held his end of the bargain."
…Cyric's balls, I hope that Luskan scum didn't promise to bed her in return or something.
She gave the dryad a cocky lopsided grin: "That's what I'm here for, honey."
"Are you?" the creature moved further, making the wood creak to reveal more of her body. The look on her face appeared nearly greedy. "Have you brought the stone, then?"
Stone? What stone?
"…No," Adele answered, making her tone sound incredulous. "You think it that easy?" she sneered. "Suppose not, seeing that you couldn't get it on your own."
"You…" the dryad uttered a low disappointed hiss. "I'm warning you, Lorne," she growled, and it took Adele all of her willpower not to grab the weapon. Her lips quirked into a small grim smile as she wondered if the sprite was aware how quickly she neared her own end every time she called her like that. "Stop trying me! Or you think the disguise will hold for ever? No, it won't! And don't expect me to lend you any more of the powder!"
At her side Sand pursed his lips, his eyes tightening as if he suddenly felt a sting of pain and did his best to conceal it. Not to let the dryad to switch her attention towards the elf, the woman tossed her head a bit, measuring the tree-nymph with her most firm gaze:
"Not like you have a choice, honey. Since you want that stone of yours that much."
The dryad bit her lip in frustration, then winced: "Fine. Take it and choke on it if you wish," she freed her other hand, tossing Adele a long slim flask of glowing powder. "Damned be the day I crossed paths with you, you treasonous human filth."
"Thankies," Adele cooed, catching the vessel in the air, and stepped back, her hand making its way towards the hilt.
"Now begone and get me the stone!"
"Wasn't going to stay for long, anyway. And don't worry, I'll make sure that Lorne gets your message," she smiled, seeing the face of the dryad flowing with confusion that slowly grew into understanding and anger, and shrugged. "…Oops?"
With a furious yell the dryad launched forward, but Adele, expecting exactly that, swished her rapier through the air to cut her lunge short. The blade slashed across the sprite's chest, eliciting a dry scratching sound of metal on wood, and Adele leaped forward as the creature recoiled, aiming the tip of her weapon into the dryad's eye – but the sprite sank back into her tree, and the blade pierced only timber. Growling in aggravation, Adele looked up, following the outline of the dryad's body sliding under the surface of the trunk, slithering upwards, not stopped even by several well-aimed arrows that planted into her all the way up, getting stuck in the bark, dark blood pooling around them.
"Great," Adele muttered, turning her head at Bishop standing in the distance, who lowered his bow and spat between his teeth in disappointment. "And how do we get her-"
The ranger's eyes widened a bit, Casavir sprinted forward, Neeshka opened her mouth to shout something, and Adele trailed off, starting to turn back…
…and the world shattered to sparkling clinking pieces.
She couldn't have said how it happened, how in the Hells she found herself several feet away from the place she just stood in, thrown right into Khelgar, both of them ending on the ground – because just the moment her senses crawled back into her head, the pain came with them, tearing down her scull. Adele groaned, squeezing her head with her hands, her right temple pulsating, swelling rapidly, and she only vaguely saw Casavir bringing his sword up to chop off a thick long branch that crashed from above like a tentacle. The same branch that had hit her in the head, sending her flying. The branch she hadn't noticed.
Fucking hat.
"Lass?" she heard Khelgar's voice, the dwarf's worry probably taking over any discontent caused by the woman landing on him. "Ya in one piece?"
"…yup…" she mumbled – mewled, really – and tried to get to her feet, but failed miserably, screwing her eyes as the pain claimed her mind, turning the world around her into a collection of blurry aching blotches, "…ah, nope…"
Soft cool hand covered her forehead, another one placed on the back of her head, and Adele sighed in pleasure at the feeling of healing magic surging through her scull, dousing the flames raging there.
"I love you, El," she whispered, blinking her consciousness back.
"Uh-oh," somewhere behind her Neeshka murmured.
Glancing back over her shoulder, behind Elanee and Khelgar, Adele saw several massive shades moving along the edge of the clearing, circling them. With a low rumbling growl Karnwyr crouched, his hackles rising, muscles rolling tensely under his fur…
"Oh my," Grobnar exclaimed in common admiration.
There were almost a dozen of them, stepping out between the trees, wolves – but nothing like the wolves one might come to grow used to. Huge, every one of them the size of a horse, their sleek jet-black fur torn along the spines, letting out sharp outgrowths of their spinal bones that looked like additional claws…
As if those on their paws weren't enough.
"Gods," Shandra breathed out soundlessly.
"Welcome to Duskwood," Bishop smirked mirthlessly, drawing his bowstring.
"'Bout time, says me," Khelgar grinned, giving a long sway to his axe for the sake of warming-up.
"I cannot hold them back," Elanee said above Adele, the elf's palms still lying on her head, but the woman could feel how taut they became. "Their minds… they are different. And her corrupting will has more impact on them than mine."
"…Sucks for them, then," Adele grouched, grabbing her rapier and pushing herself up, on her feet. Duskwood swayed around her, but she paid little attention to that. She knew where she was, standing firmly – and the rest of the world could dance a jig for all she cared. Or crawl with dire wolves as the case was. "Qara!" she called out, and the sorceress glanced at her questioningly. "Need to smoke the bitch out of her tree before she summoned something else. Can you manage?"
"…You bet," the girl grinned, turning away from the pack and focusing her attention on the tree sacrificed to her. "But you'd better keep those fleabags away from me."
"Deal," Adele smiled and looked at the gnome. "Grobnar, stay back, closer to Qara and Sand." The gnome nodded and retreated into the center of their group, loading his small crossbow.
"So be it," Casavir agreed, standing beside her, locking the circle they had formed in the middle of the pack surrounding them. It didn't escape Adele how the paladin stole a glance at her, probably noticing her trying hard to focus her vision. "Are you well?"
"Well enough for a careless fool," she smiled gloomily, looking straight at the approaching beasts. "Though the blow was mighty, that I can tell. If there'd been brains inside, could have been a concussion."
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head in defeat in trying to reach her seriousness, but at least it switched the paladin's attention to where it belonged – the danger at hand. Adele herself reached for Shandra, dragging the blonde woman closer and feeling the shiver rushing through the farmer's muscles. Shandra gazed at her silently.
"Listen to me," Adele uttered firmly. "Stay close. You and I are side by side. You are the right hand, I'm the left one. You strike a blow, I adapt and add to it. We are going to make it. Got it?"
Shandra pursed her whitened lips and nodded, shifting her eyes back at the advancing wolves.
The air around them wavered, thickened, enveloping the group in hazy sphere. Throwing a quick look at Sand behind her, Adele saw him whispering something under his nose and thought better than to call out for him and disrupt his casting. Everyone seemed to be ready and fine, and it was all she could do to make sure they stayed that way. Probably, it wasn't the best of ideas to taunt the dryad up to this, bringing a whole pack of wolves on their heads – but doubt and fear mattered little already, so she pushed it away, allowed it to be drown in the exhilarated thrill, some irrational foretaste of a battle only Khelgar and Qara seemed to be familiar with, an anticipation that set her heart to a tap dance, speeding up the pulse even in the tiniest of vessels, making her pleasurably aware of every particle of her body.
I've made it this far, - that part of her whispered in triumph. – Surely I can make it further.
One of the wolves, its hide already thick-sown with arrows, stumbled in its tracks, but stubbornly made its way towards them – until, finally, another arrow found the mark in its eye, cutting deep into the head through the socket. The beast collapsed on the ground, staining the grass with blood and spittle dribbling out of its mouth.
And like its death was a silent command, the other wolves sprinted into attack.
Two or three of them were thrown on the ground, teeth clattering at the harsh snapping of jaws, their legs bound with the vines of Elanee's entangling spells, and one threw its head back, howling in frustration, but dropped dead, Neeshka's knives sinking in his furry throat. The rest of the beasts made their way forward, rapidly, but the moment their black bulks stepped into the energy field Sand had established, their movements grew slow, muscles straining visibly, as if tearing through the shield was physically hard. Adele heard a joyful battle-cry behind her – a certain declaration that one of the animals got his full of a dwarven axe. Adele didn't look back – she didn't need to, for she knew everything was under control there. Strident yelp of the beast that followed only confirmed it.
Instead she kept her attention on Shandra, kept right until the moment the farmer delivered her first blow on the wolf that rushed at them, her sword slashing its gaping mouth. Blood splashed into her face, and on instinct Shandra shut her eyes, but Adele shoved her, pushing her away, breaking their hold to let the wounded beast slide between them. Massive carcass flashed by, and Adele spun on her heels, grasping Shandra's elbow, drawing her close and squeezing her arm, making her open her eyes, pay attention. The wolf swung round, its claws furrowing the soil, but Adele had her second to pierce its side, kicking it hard to wrench her rapier free quickly and at the same time pushing herself away, to have time for the next charge and giving space for Shandra's move as well. Their swap showered the beast with slashes and stabs without any break, splitting its hide and flesh, leaving no chance of answering, until it was nothing more than a battered pile.
From her side came a sickening wet crack as Casavir met another wolf, slamming his shield into its muzzle hard enough to break the animal's scull and neck, and pushed forward, forcing the hulk away. Done with that, he turned in time to keep another beast from breaking through their protective field, somehow managing to maintain the same unruffled concentration, wielding his weapon accurately, without any trace of haste. Grobnar padded close to him, the gnome's tiny frame providing him perfect protection behind the paladin and his shield, and fired his crossbow undisturbed. Neeshka glided behind Khelgar, taking advantage of his shortness to throw her knives over his head at those creatures that moved back from the enthusiastic dwarf, keeping their distance for a jump.
One beast, the largest, probably their Alpha, kept back all the time, pacing slowly in the background, on the nearest slope of the hill, its gaze fixed on the middle of the company, the mages, taking them as the easiest targets, looking for a chink in defense. As another of the creatures fell and Adele had to step to the side not to be buried under its hulk, the Alpha jumped, and the woman cursed as the huge shadow flashed above her. She turned back, ready to launch at the wolf as it landed, but wasn't able to, as Karnwyr had already had a leap of his own, cutting the beast's way, plunging into its side, and they rolled away in a furry tangle of fangs and claws. The dire wolf appeared stronger, crashing his rival and throwing him away to bleed at the feet of his master, who was spending the last of his arrows. Adele wanted to scream to warn the ranger, seeing the creature crouching for another lunge, but without warning or even looking Bishop seemed to be aware of the danger. Dropping his longbow, shoving the quiver off, Bishop drew his blades, facing the wolf. It sprang at him, and the ranger dove forward, to the ground, rolling over his shoulder until he was on his back right under the beast's belly, and, without stopping his tumble, cut both weapons deep into the unprotected flesh, dragging them along with his move, ripping the creature's abdomen open. The wolf howled in pain, sinking to the ground with all his weight, but Bishop had time to roll away, in some inexplicable way managing to end his tumble on his feet, and finished the beast off with a gash to its throat.
Adele looked around, trying to find her bearing in the chaos around her, and gasped when a wave of heat covered her, showering the woman with burning wood flinders. The tree burst from the inside, cleaving in two, and the dryad's slim form, thrown out of it, fell to the ground. Turning over to her stomach, the sprite made a move towards the forest, but Khelgar's axe came down on her neck, chopping off any chance of escape.
And it was all over.
Two of the remaining wolves, giants as they were, cowered under Elanee's gaze, whining and crawling away. The elf, ruffled but unharmed, took a step towards them, and they needed no other reasoning to retreat back to their forest. Adele heaved a relieved sigh, ignoring the stinging ache in her chest, wiped her forehead dry from the sweat, tucking loose tresses behind her ears, and looked at Shandra by her side. The other woman seemed to come back to her senses after the battle, her tremor coming back as well – but it was another kind of tremor, not a frightened one, but more of a surprised, as if the farmer, glancing around, wasn't able to come to terms with the fact she was still alive. Feeling Adele's gaze, she stared back, and the woman couldn't fight back a smile at how bizarre those round eyes looked on a frozen blood-covered face.
"See?" she squeezed her shoulder. "Told you we were going to make it."
Khelgar came up to them, grinning widely even despite his apparent limping, and gave Shandra an affectionate clap on her back, making the woman stumble several feet forward. "Battle-tried now, eh? The first tavern we come across - ale at my expense!"
Shandra gave a short laugh, a tad hysterical, then cast one more long look over the carnage.
"What's with the leg?" Adele asked the dwarf.
"Bah, nothin'. One pup's got lucky, that's all."
Adele nodded, turning to others. Sand, sallow and somewhat lost, sat right on the ground, cradling his head in his palms and trying to collect himself after his spell that drained him of whatever power Duskwood hadn't. Qara, who wasn't lucky enough to avoid some blood-splash, stood next to him, leaning heavily on her staff poked into the ground, her face ashen, eyes fixed straight ahead, though clearly not seeing a thing. As Adele stepped to them, shivering a bit and feeling herself ineffably fortunate that she was deprived of any magical abilities, Qara spared her a grim glance.
"…Feeling… tolerable?" she wondered, biting her tongue back in time not to blurt out 'good' or any other obviously unsuitable crap. "You did great, by the way."
Qara scowled at her. "I've got bowel in my hair."
Adele glanced at the girl's head and pursed her lips to prevent a snicker, brushing off the offending piece. "No more. Unless you wanted to keep it, of course." As the girl's frown didn't ease, she smirked. "We are going to set for the night now."
"We'd better," the sorceress nodded pointedly, gripping her staff even more tightly, preventing a fall.
"I think we should get away from here as soon as possible," Casavir stated, not yet sheathing his sword, but lowering his shield at least, drops of blood painting slow crimson paths on its surface. "The carrion might attract other predators."
"It would not," Elanee answered simply, her face appearing almost blissful. Never before had Adele expected the druidess to be so glad of someone's death. "The rest of the forest felt that something was out of place here, so they shunned this clearing."
"Anyway, the rest is scheduled," Adele rounded, placing her hand on Sand's shoulder, getting an exhausted but encouragingly sensible glance in return.
"The flask?" the wizard asked quietly.
"Right here," Adele showed him the vial, then slipped it back into her belt-pouch.
"Keep it," he nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Alternation powder… Mystra, should have suspected they used something like that – a reagent that would leave no trace of arcane. And from a source that wouldn't be tracked down easily."
Her eyes travelled over the carnage, and she smirked at what was left of the 'source', "She called me 'Lorne'. That means it was the Garius muscle himself in charge of the whole thing, right?"
"I suppose so. Let us hope it's because our Luskan high-flier is short of men."
"My, Sand, never would have guessed you are an optimist."
The elf only smiled faintly in return, too tired to come up with any barb. Adele left him be, her own body strangely full of energy, the muscles in her arms and legs humming with adrenaline and victory. She only hoped they would get to some safe place before the second wind she had caught left her – after which Adele knew she would be nothing more than a useless drowsing heap.
Neeshka, with the help of Grobnar, was retrieving her daggers hastily, throwing wary looks at the woods around, not quite convinced by Elanee's assurance that they were left in peace for the time. Bishop also made his way among the corpses, pulling his arrows out, shaking blood and fur off them, then shoved the undamaged ones back into the quiver, with quiet curses throwing away those broken. Wolves' claws left little of his cloak, but otherwise the ranger appeared unharmed. The same couldn't be said about Karnwyr, though, who licked clean his damaged hind leg and sometimes shook his head to ease the pain in the torn bleeding ear and rugged neck.
"Elanee will tend to him," Adele said, nodding at Karnwyr.
Bishop gave his head a single shake, not pausing in his task of picking out arrows: "No one will touch him apart from me, princess."
The woman rolled her eyes mentally, "Tend to him, not eat him." With that she stretched her arm out to wipe some blood from Karnwyr's fur, but had to jerk her hand back as the wolf snarled, shrinking away from her and puffing up twice his size, his eyes flashing dangerously at her unwanted invasion. Adele frowned in confusion, drawing herself up slowly, so that none of her movements could be interpreted as a threat.
"Told you," Bishop chuckled, glancing at them shortly, then nodded somewhere to the east, forestalling a possible question. "Round up your herd - there should be a cave not far, about half an hour walk from here. With a brook nearby."
"…Good," she answered, watching him closely, awaiting for some comment that was supposed to ruin his nearly good-natured tone. None came, again leaving her with the feeling that she had simply missed something implied. "Well then," she turned back to others, "everyone good for walking?"
"Always, miss Adele," Grobnar beamed at her, and she smiled in return at the gnome's endless eagerness.
"Seeing as we have no choice," Sand sighed, grabbing the staff Qara was still leaning on, and pulled himself upwards heavily, ignoring the gape of the sorceress scandalized at his defilement of her weapon. Whisking off some dirt and grass that got stuck to his robes, the wizard adjusted the collar and made several unsteady, but successful steps.
Qara followed him, though was not so triumphant in her attempt to keep balance, and gave a dangerous careen that would have certainly ended in her dropping to the ground, if Elanee hadn't stepped to her side, steadying the girl with her shoulder.
"I'm fine," the sorceress snapped, almost insulted by help.
"I am not," Elanee answered calmly, placing a hand on her forearm. "Please, let me go alongside, so I could lean on you if needed."
"…Great," the girl snorted, "found yourself a fencepost." But she didn't move away, settling on the druidess' obvious lie since it let her save the face and prevent from falling at the same time.
Adele waited for the rest to come up: Neeshka and Khelgar already arguing about something, something clearly unimportant, simply for the sake of talking, of hearing each other's voices, sort of a jovial proof that were all alive and breathing; Shandra, silently rolling her shoulders and still looking around for probably the same reason. Casavir was bringing up the rear, with his shield slung over his back, his movements as usual sparse but precise even in simple walking. As he came alongside with her, Adele saw him look at her ill-fated bruise and arched her brow.
"This needs to be healed properly," the paladin said quietly, reaching out with his free hand to probe her temple carefully. Coolness of his glove against the damaged skin was so much welcomed that Adele felt close to purring. "There might be a fracture; it's hard to tell at first sight."
"Nah, Elanee's spell was enough, doesn't even hurt anymore," she shrugged. "Famous Harbourmen's thick sculls and all."
"…I suppose I'll have to take your word on that," he answered, taking his hand away, but his voice sounded uncertain, his eyes still on the wound.
She heard the barely discernable sound of steps this time, was able to catch it even before Casavir's gaze shifted to stare at something behind her back, and mentally praised herself for not jumping when Bishop's caustic voice reached her from behind:
"Ready to go, princess? Or you need time to knock your head against something else?"
Ah, and here comes the gibe.
For a moment she thought about shooting something back, but then again, he was unharmed while she had a bruise on a good half of her face – so she was surely not the one to get all worked up over a truthful dig he was in full right of.
"Ready," she replied, sliding her gaze over the ground to find the blasted thing she was reminded of. Spotting the hat not far away, she picked it up and with no small pleasure crumpled it mercilessly into a shapeless bundle before shoving it into her pack. Should have done it a long time ago. Done with that, she turned to the ranger, unsurprised to find him watching her. He did have blood on his face too, its drops forming tiny dark beads in his stubble, but at least it was not his blood.
"Good. And the next time you feel like getting yourself killed – try a bit harder."
"Enough of it, Bishop," Casavir cut off, his irritation catching Adele totally off guard. She glanced at him blankly, wondering why the ranger's words rubbed him so much, when they had no effect on her. "She had no wish of bringing harm on herself. Just not everything can be foreseen."
"What a keen observation," Bishop's lips curved into something between a smirk and a grimace. "I bet everyone in Ember would have gladly signed off on it. Ah, but they can't, they are dead."
Taking a slow exasperated breath, Adele moved in between them, placing a palm on each man's chest and pushing them away before any more words were spoken. With Bishop she might have as well tried to move a stone wall, but at least Casavir had the decency to make a step back, putting enough distance between himself and the ranger.
"Thought we discussed all the biting-each-other-over-my-issue business," she pointed out, looking between the two of them. "Even if you hadn't taken my words seriously, just indulge a lady's vagary. Please."
Casavir, fortunately, chose to remain silent, only nodded asset, shifting his shoulder to adjust the shield, ready to go. But as she was looking at him, she felt her hand, still lying on Bishop's chest, shudder a bit, and glared at the ranger to discover him swallowing a laugh.
"It doesn't really take much to piss you off, eh?" lazily lidded eyes regarded her up and down. "Or is it just that every fight gets your blood boiling?"
…Ouch, - her inner voice whispered huskily, but Adele held her gaze from trailing down from his eyes, lower, towards his lip in sudden wish to find that tiny mark she had left there.
Even without looking she felt Casavir stiffen, but managed to throw up a warning index finger to stop him, still pinning the ranger with her glare, and gave Bishop a short non-amused smile.
"Now that you're done joking and I laughing," she went on in the same even tone, "let's get moving before we lost both our mages."
"Should we?" he sniffed, glancing shortly away, at Sand and Qara, the latter already only half-conscious on Elanee's shoulder. "These magicians are a waste of space if you ask me."
Adele snorted: "Uh-huh. Considering one of them made a tree explode to pieces and the other is about to drag me through the trial. It's a good thing I don't ask you." His eyes snapped to hers, still hooded, unreadable, and she sighed, softening her voice conciliatory: "Just lead the way, ranger, and leave space arrangements to me."
That was the moment she realized her tactical mistake – a mistake of leaving her hand resting on his chest, as his palm went up, enveloping her fingers and pressing them lightly to his heart, his soles rustling quietly against the ground as he brought them together, giving her a perfect mockery of a soldier-like click of heels.
"As you wish, m'lady," he whispered, laughter swirling in his eyes, and Adele lowered her lids in no less mocking acceptance, steeling herself against the wish to tear her hand free and run the Hells away or at least punch him a good one for wearing those gloves with cut off fingers that made his coarse skin brush against her unprotected palm as he let go of her. Looking at her for one or two more moments, he glanced up above her shoulder at the paladin and smirked dryly before turning away, "Bow-wow."
Adele closed her eyes helplessly as he stalked away, then sighed and turned to Casavir. "Just pretend he doesn't exist," she said quietly, seeing his grave expression as he watched the ranger leaving.
The paladin didn't react at once, but finally nodded, averting his gaze. "I apologize for my part in this… wrangle," he answered just as quietly. "The man truly calls forth the worst of me."
"Not only of you," she smiled. "Just think like this – you only have to deal with him from time to time, while he lives his whole life a jerk like that. Enough to feel sorry for him, no?"
He didn't answer, but his face seemed to soften in amusement, and Adele patted him lightly on the arm, both of them resuming their walking to catch up with others who already started to follow Bishop. As Adele came close, Neeshka threw her a glance over shoulder, her face split into a grin, so broad Grobnar could take a lesson.
"Not a word," Adele murmured. "Or next time I'll send you to deal with those two."
The tiefling snickered and shook her head, but remained silent. Though her snigger was always a nice thing to hear, so Adele smiled in earnest, looking back briefly to make sure they left nothing and no one behind. Nope, only huge shades of the killed wolves and the smoldering carcass of what once was a tree.
"Ain't we nice guys?" she sniffed quietly to herself, falling in steps with Sand.
"At least, the whole picture starts to get clearer," the wizard observed, thankfully able to keep focused on important things. "Though I am wondering how exactly our executors had managed to strike a deal with the dryad."
The woman shrugged: "Think we should have kept her alive and asked? Had no wish to, honestly," she smirked. "But, to think, she would have made a striking witness on the trial."
"Indeed, that would have been rather… unorthodox."
"Wow," Neeshka grinned. "Another neat word. What does it mean?"
The cave was deep enough to light a fire without attracting attention to it from the forest. Qara was the first to collapse into sleep, so quickly that it seemed like she simply fainted. But her face was regaining its normal colour, so she only ended up being wrapped in several blankets, dragged closer to the fire and then left undisturbed. Sand, also more or less recovered, sorted out his own pack, producing several healing potions that appeared handy. Khelgar's injure was more serious than the dwarf wanted to admit, but after a dressing and a remedy washed down by a gulp of ale, he begrudgingly agreed to be left out of the watch schedule and settled against the wall, where sleep claimed him shortly after. Shandra, too, took little time to fall asleep, never uttering a word after the battle, not minding (or not noticing) Grobnar who used her blanket-covered side as a table for his journal, writing something down frantically. Casavir, removing the largest pieces of his plate-mail for rest, also revealed several nasty-looking bruises on his left arm, where the straps of his shield and the shield itself pressed into flesh under the force of repelled attacks. The paladin accepted a healing potion, but otherwise showed no signs of pain.
Though water in a nearby brook appeared to be chilling, it had to do to wash down blood and gore. Adele, for one, even found some comfort in the feel of ice-cold moisture splashed over her burning livid spot that took freedom to crawl further from her temple - to her forehead and cheek, sending annoying droll into her eye. She considered a potion, but brushed it off quickly – a black-eye was no threat to her overall heath and physical abilities, and there was no reason for vanity. Not like beasts of Duskwood cared for her good looks or anything. To prolong the comforting cooling feeling, she chose a small alcove in the cave as her resting place, half-sitting with her back against the wall and leaning her injured temple to cold stone.
The chill from the wash made those awake get closer to the fire. Even Karnwyr, his damaged leg reset by his master, squeezed himself between Neeshka and Elanee, though his gaze remained grim, making it obvious that being this close to them gave him no joy. The ranger left back for the clearing, to skin the killed wolves, leave the hides for drying and pick up on their way back from Ember – furriers in Neverwinter paid well for skins of Duskwood beasts, it seemed. As Sand elaborated, everything and everyone inhabiting it imbibed part of the forest's ability to damper magics, so the wolves' skins were eagerly spent on protecting leathers, clothes and foot-gear, while the wood, strong but flexible, was wonderful for weapons. Adele herself seemed to recall how Daeghun appreciated his Duskwood longbow.
The wizard spent the rest of the evening contemplating how their encounter with the dryad and all concerned could be used on the trial, not noticing how his thoughtfulness faded peacefully to a dream. Others took their rest as well, leaving the first watch to Casavir, who busied himself with cleaning his weapon. Slowly, but Adele also succumbed to her sleep, lulled by the crackling of a fire, soft sound of a whetstone on metal, slightly tickling spicy smell of dried blood from the furs and – probably irrational but nonetheless strong – feeling of safety she was wrapped in. She had been freed of the watch for the night, so slipped into her dream with her conscience clear and her mind looking forward to a long-needed rest…
…destroyed mercilessly as her sleep ran off, the dull ache in her head chasing away any leftovers of it. It wasn't the pain, though, that woke her up. Not even the cold numbness in her back, stiff after several hours against the stone.
It was the pressure. Two points of pressure, placed precisely on her hips, pinning the lower part of her body to the floor.
…oh bugger…
Not willing to leave her fuzzy cocoon of sleep, she shifted, but the only thing achieved was a jolt running through her spinal nerve. The pressure didn't ease, shifting together with her, becoming almost painful.
…the Hells?
She cracked her eyes opened, founding herself almost in the dark. The light from the fire was blocked by the shadow right in front of her, an actually breathing shadow that propped its weight against her legs. Adele blinked away the doze, focusing her gaze enough to discern a pair of eyes glinting in the gloom.
Amber eyes.
Her heart gave an alarmed leap, while her mind worked over what she should do – head-butt him or break into laughter and then head-butt him. She was fairly sure that Bishop would try to pay her back for everything eventually, but never thought he would do it right away, sneaking up at her in the middle of the night to have his way or whatever it was he planned doing.
She neither hit nor laughed, though, as her clearing mind came to realize that the eyes staring at her were too pale to belong to Bishop, their colour approaching yellow. More so, those eyes were surrounded by fur. Not to mention they were set not on a face, but a muzzle. A muzzle that was uncomfortably close to her.
Adele frowned, her mouth opening slightly, but not a sound came out. Karnwyr didn't move, keeping his forepaws on her hips and staring, his breathing quiet, punctured, deliberate.
Sniffing.
She was at a loss, not really knowing what to do apart from stupidly gazing back at the wolf. Karnwyr cocked his head, the light from behind illuminating the tips of his hard hairs, haloing the wolf with red and gold.
"…Hi there?" she muttered in a whisper, taking a second to find her hand and to send command for it to move, to give a scratch to the canine or pat his head or…
The wolf tensed the second she stirred, pressing his paws harder into her hips, lowering his head and growling softly, warningly. Her palm fell back to the floor.
"…Okay," she breathed out, setting her jaw in sudden irritation. "What is it you want, then?"
He moved closer, slowly, and she backed away on instinct, but didn't have enough space for maneuvers – and froze when his nose nearly poked into her neck, taking in her scent. Adele took a slow careful breath, bracing herself. It was no time to panic - she seemed to recall that animals could feel fear. Hardly a soothing thought, though. Especially with his teeth so close to her throat. Were it any other animal, she would have taken her chances and tried to fight it off – but, Hells, it was a companion of her companion, so the only chance she could take was that of Karnwyr being kind enough not to bite into her flesh on a whim.
Fighting hard to keep still, she darted her glance around the cave. Faint gleams of fire danced along the stone walls, chasing the shadows, a sight she would have enjoyed in any other situation. But for now the only thing that mattered was the ranger already on watch, sitting near the named fire with his back to her, his cloak thrown over his knee as he was mending it with quick sure stitches. The picture of Bishop sowing was another one Adele would have thoroughly enjoyed, if it wasn't for a more pressing matter. Literally.
"…Bishop?" she whispered, doing her best to suppress a shiver when Karnwyr's breath tickled her skin. "Biiiiiiishoooooop?"
The ranger glanced back at her, his gaze swift and indifferent, as always, simply taking note of the surroundings and what was happening, before going back to his cloak.
"Enjoying yourself?" his tone, though, was laced with amusement, but amusement unconcerned, like it was just another day to see his beast all over someone. It was a nauseating notion, to think that, perhaps, it was.
"Not me, obviously," she answered quietly, again meeting eyes with Karnwyr who drew a bit back at the noise of their voices. Staring hard at the wolf, she squeezed out a strained smile. "Your hound is."
"I've no hound."
"Your wolf, yes. Your big mean independent unstoppable breathtaking wolf."
At that he chuckled, but still didn't turn: "Well then, maybe I'd better leave you two alone, eh?"
"As long as he doesn't get any ideas," Adele muttered dryly, eyeing the wolf who switched to sniffing her hair loosened from its tail for the night. He didn't seem hostile if she didn't move, so the woman allowed herself to relax. Maybe that was it. Maybe the animal just decided to get acquainted. Finally. And suddenly.
What is to sniff on me, anyway? I probably smell like a dung-pile. Sweat. Water. Some blood, perhaps…
Yeeeees, blood, exactly… My blood, - she closed her eyes tightly. - Oh, nice.
"Bishop, call him off, will you?" Adele whispered, hating that her voice came out so weak.
"Scared?" son of bitch sounded positively smug.
"Yes. And when I get scared, I tend to poke my blade into everything that moves."
He chuckled again, and she couldn't help but to notice how much deeper his quiet hoarse chuckle sounded in the closed space of the cave, as if echoing itself, forming several soft layers that enveloped her every cell, sending shivers to the places that never supposed to have shivers at all…
…Of all the times to get turned on…
You are a sick-sick woman, Adele Farlong.
Karnwyr's breath brushed over her ear, her cheek, towards her face. He was so close she could almost feel the touch of his nose.
Damn, I might in fact smell of Bishop a bit…
As if I needed another reminding how badly I want a bath.
For a moment the wolf's breath traced her shut lids, then moved away, and Adele dared to open her eyes. And there was he, in all his derisive glory, towering above her, his shoulder leaned against the ledge of her small niche, arms folded on his chest, looking down with almost palpable jeering.
So much for being able to hear him coming.
Adele glared up at the ranger, all too aware that her face was burning with heat like a fender. Bishop didn't pay any attention to her glower, his hooded eyes following Karnwyr, who went back to sniffing her neck and collarbone.
"You know," the ranger murmured with a revoltingly pleased smirk, "this is actually arousing."
Go die, - she thought helplessly as another wave of warmth rushed to her skin. It was unsettling, to face him like this, unable to gain his eye-level, practically squashed to the floor by his bloody mutt.
"Bishop, lovely," she uttered, "if you have something to say to me, just grow a pair and say it, not sic your wolf on me."
"…You serious?" he quirked up an eyebrow, then sniffed. "Princess, trust me, when I have something to say, you'll be the first to hear. What he's doing is pretty much his business," she wanted to ask what, then, Karnwyr was doing exactly, but Bishop gave her no such opportunity, settling himself more comfortable against the wall and smirking again. "And besides, it was you who tried to grab him earlier, so bear the consequences."
"Relax and enjoy, huh? Any resistance will only make the inevitable more painful?" his smirk twitched in a held-back chuckle at her crude innuendo, and Adele stared at the wolf, who raised his head to gaze back. "So what had he done to earn your affection?" she wondered at Karnwyr. "Fed his mother to you?"
The wolf didn't react, only stared up at Bishop's snicker. "See, boy?" the ranger drawled. "For wretched scums like us, affection is something to be earned."
Adele grinned despite herself, also looking up at him. "Touché," she nodded and sighed. "Just call him off."
"Why don't you ask, hmm?" he suggested softly, which only made the taunt all more apparent, slaughtering any kindle of amicability in her on the vine. "You know, nicely – like a charming young lady you are."
"Please," she grated.
He tsked, "Sounds like 'stab yourself, piece of shit'."
Will you?
She closed her eyes, leaning back on the stone wall. "…Please," she said gently this time. Bishop didn't answer, and Adele smiled inwardly at that. Unexpected. Good. "I'm… I'm really not good with animals… And I'm afraid he'd smell… well…" she made herself swallow, her voice appropriately weak. "Please."
No answer came, but as a moment passed, she finally heard the dry click of his tongue, and immediately Karnwyr's paws left her hips as the wolf loped off of her.
"Thank you," she whispered and drew a breath that, she knew, sounded relieved, then opened her eyes and looked up at him. Bishop hadn't left, still propping himself against the wall, still gazing at her, but the look in his eye was no longer mocking, appearing almost cautious. "You look tired," she muttered, and his eyes narrowed a bit. It was a mystery to her how she managed not to grin. "Since your wolf woke me up, anyway," she let a tad of teasing annoyance flow into her voice, enough to make it believable, "I can take your watch. Wouldn't want an exhausted tracker, now would I?"
His stare was cold and blank again, and her inner smile widened. As if he could sense that there was a trick somewhere, but was unable to detect it. Yes, you son of a bitch, this is exactly how it feels for me 'cause of you. Bad, huh?
A feint. One of the simplest ones. If you have a weakness, have a breach in your defense or a flaw in your attack, then show it just a bit too openly, make it a little too obvious – and a suspicious enough opponent would never try to use it against you, assuming it to be a trap of yours, a draw that needs to be eluded.
Some part of her was even disappointed that Bishop took it so easily.
Gods, I so miss a good duel.
"…Fine," he suddenly shrugged easily, pushing himself off the wall. "I'll take my nap, then."
…What? No! You are supposed to be angry! You, not me!
Picking up his cloak, he turned to her for a moment: "Since you are so generous, mind mending it?"
"I'm not that generous," she answered, fumbling to her feet.
"No?" he smirked. "Shame."
Adele made her way towards the fire, avoiding stepping on her sleeping companions and suppressing a wish to grab the back Bishop's head and plant his face into the wall.
"Have a nice watch," the ranger nodded at her, and she forced a smile to which he didn't answer.
Now how's that for getting into your own trap?
Gritting her teeth, she threw her hand out for his belt and, before he could stop her, snatched the flask secured there. His palm grabbed her wrist, but it was late, and she only stared back straight into his eyes, arching her brow:
"My watch."
For a second his fingers tightened around her wrist, but then he dropped it, stepping back.
"Just don't drink yourself asleep," he growled softly, turning away towards his bedroll, and suddenly chuckled. "Again."
Adele sat down, a bit too hastily and hardly than needed, and shook her head, shooting a glance at the ranger. Unperturbed, he slid into his bedroll, Karnwyr settling at his side, watching the woman with the same steadfast gaze.
Make a pair, huh? – she glared at the animal in return, but he closed his eyes, depriving her of even that small comfort, and she was left with nothing else to do but stare into the fire.
Was it really worth it? Engaging into this stupid confrontation? Obviously not, since she ended up like this. What was there to gain in it, apart from frayed nerves?
Except for the thing that you are enjoying it, - inner voice crooned dryly.
She smiled grimly, not able to stop herself from throwing another glance at the ranger. He was facing away from her – for better, probably. Sighing, she rolled the flask in her hand, uncorked it and shook it slightly, hearing the soft splash of whiskey inside.
And I even don't want to drink.
…Must have hit my head harder than I thought.
Her smirk turned into a grin, just as humourless, and without much thinking she splashed a bit of liquid into the fire, backing off from the flames flaring up, strong enough to wave her with heat.
Neeshka, sleeping not far, stirred at the sudden crackling of fire and half-opened one eye.
"…Uhm?" she blinked at Adele. "What'sit?"
"Nothing," Adele muttered, glaring into the flames, and chuckled dourly. "Monthlies."
"…Oh," the tiefling rubbed her nose, snuggling into her blanket, and closed her eye, murmuring sleepily. "…Yeah, it happens…"
