Aeric Dalia/Vol 3 Chapter 3

Aeric Dalia/Vol 3 Chapter 2

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CHAPTER THREE

“Ready! Keep those lines steady!” A woman in a red horse hair plumed helmet screamed. “Not gonna lie, Aeric. I'm scared, really scared.”

Aeric turned from the menacing horde of men charging at their formation to look at Selena. Her face was mostly covered from her heavy metal helmet. The cheekplates rolling to the corners of her mouth, and covering her chin. He could see her jaw tremble. Her gaze was fixed on the enemy. In her right hand was a long, but thick bladed sword, her left was the iconic large red shield. She held it to Aeric, covering his side. She swallowed hard and then tapped the tip of her blade on the sole of Aeric's boot, for luck.

When the young man looked back to the advancing war host he felt his jaw chatter likewise. His shield shook, obstructing his view from his lowered head. Despite their trepidation, their hold in the formation was perfect. Selena stood just to his back covering his left, he stood to the front hunched over, covering most of his body with his shield. He glanced to his right to see his friend in a similar position, no more than an arm's length away. Aerics fingers stretched and rolled along the handle of his shorter blade, then gripping it tightly in anticipation. “On my command, close ranks and prepare for the charge!” The officer bellowed again.

The deafening warcry slowly drowned out any ambient noise the soldiers were making. “Hold!”

Aeric's breath became heavy, as he took in long breaths in an attempt to calm himself. “Hold!

His teeth began to clenched. His gut churned painfully as his knees began to shake. “Hold!”

The enemy lines long broke apart, it was just an unorganized mob of men charging and screaming. They were so close Aeric could make out the glint of their teeth as the shouted. “Close formation! Loose missiles!”

In a clamored second the Imperial soldiers took a large step closer to eachother. The front ranks stepped back to the rank behind, the files side stepped, locking their shields together. Bodies were pressed heavily against each other as the collective group prepared to absorb the charge. Javelins flew from the back ranks into the enemy horde, disrupting them even further. Those that were hit fell under and vanished in a forest of legs. Some discarded their shields that were hit. Ultimately they didn't stop their charge. The mass of their bodies flew into the Arec formation like a torrent of water washing on a steep cliff. Aeric felt the weight of his shield increase tremendously as he flew back into his comrades.

Suddenly he was elsewhere, flung onto his back by an unseen force. Around him was a town engulfed in fire and chaos. He struggled to get to his feet, using his large shield as a crutch. Selena rushed to him with tears in her eyes, her face and armor covered in blood. Aeric's mind was still in a daze, he could not hear the world around him, and Selena's soft voice was a muffled hum. Corpses littered the street. Arecs, Karothians, civilians, all dead. Though the battle still raged. “You didn't need to kill them Tandren!” Selena cried at Aeric and her friend. “If I didn't they would have killed us.” Tandren shouted. “The couple had weapons on us Sel!”

Aeric looked to the ground to see two bodies, a man and a woman. They were dressed in very ornate and pristine clothing, marred only by the blood soaked in the fabric. Tandren kicked over the man to reveal a crude mace. Aeric looked down at his bloodied sword. His hearing dulled again as his head slowly floated, taking in the battle around him. He felt the war fire's heat on his cheeks, complimented by a cool night time breeze. He stopped looking when he saw something move behind a barrel in the alleyway. As his friends yelled at each other he began to walk to the alley in a ghostlike trance.

A child popped his head out, then quickly hid behind the barrel. Aeric knelt beside the barrel, resting his sword to the ground. His expression was distant, as if he didn't have a care of anything. He reached out his hand, and tapped the barrel with the knuckled of his finger. 'Go away' was returned. He knocked again and the child took flight down the alleyway. “We need to get back. Wheres the rest of the cohort?” Selena spoke again in her panicked state. “Aeric, get up we are leaving.” Tandren shook Aeric. “ You listening to me? Get up!” “We killed them.” Aeric muttered to himself. “Get up!” The blare of trumpets sounded. “ Thats the rally call, Get up!” “Get up!” Aeric's eyes flew open.

The air was calm. The only real disturbance was a familiar morning call played by trumpets. Once that ended the world was still. Aeric held his hand in front of his face. Turning it over many times to examine it. The tent's white fabric emitted a dull glow, allowing Aeric to see clearly without his eyes needing to adjust. He looked over to the cot across from him, only to find it empty. Faline's gear was missing as well. The only hint that she was there was the unkempt blanket left on the bed. Aeric rubbed his eyes and got up.

He dressed himself and then folded his blanket lengthwise, then width wise into a perfect square as he had done all his life. He stared at it in a waking curiosity. He never really questioned why he continued to fold it after using it. Especially if he was going to use it again that day. His friends sometimes mocked him, Faline gave him no less for it as well. Yet every time he would sleep on a cot he would fold the blanket the same way each morning. In a similar mechanical and trained fashion he began to don his armor.

The armored figure emerged from the tent. The band of Paladins were circled around a doused fire pit. Faline was relaxing in a wooden folding chair, Jenis and Hale conversed with each other. Dalia gave Aeric a warm smile as she found a spot to sit next to him. Aeric sat himself groaning quietly as his body was still waking. “Sleep well?” Faline spoke content to rest in her chair. “What time is it?” Aeric asked. “A bit before midday.” She folded her hands on her belly. “Why didn't you wake me?” “I tried, you were fast a sleep.” She looked at him. “Must have been a good dream.”

The paladin didn’t reply. Aeric was unnerved to know his nightmares were returning again. The few peaceful nights were a welcome change. Something changed in his mind. Being so close to his past wasn't wearing well on the man. As pleasant as it was to see his old friend, it opened old wounds that should have been healed, and fresher ones that refused to heal all together. The succubus's demeanor changed as she began to feel the melancholy mood of her adept grow.

The group began to banter candidly as they ate, Aeric remaining quiet as usual. A simple breakfast of eggs and sausage that was being prepared by many cooks around the camp. Dalia readily handed Aeric utensils to eat the food with as she lovingly ate her own food. She was acting noticeably more polite and courteous, even referring to Faline as 'Ma'am' once or twice. Aeric couldn't help but feel as if this was her way of apologizing after what she had done.

To a trained eye, one could notice the unease in the demon. She rubbed her hands often and constantly kept glancing around. She was surrounded by what was essentially the most succulent meal she could find in the camp. Virile men. Not just men that were in their peak physical condition, but men that were very active sexually. Just as she could feel the emotions of the men in her party, she could sense the lustful men around her. Always in a state of 'hunger' always ready to pounce. Behavior that the succubus quickly learned meant a good meal. She almost jumped to a stand when she felt Aeric's hand on her shoulder “Are you well?” “I could be better.” She took a suggestive bite out of her sausage. She raised her eye brow as if to hint.

Aeric quickly turned his attention away from Dalia, not wanting to deal with her playing so early in his morning. As he looked around the group he noticed an absence of Voren. 'The breakfast did seem quieter' Thought Aeric. He finished his plate and placed his on its rightful spot. “I was thinking of getting someone to commission a new axe for me, ya' know since you left mine in that fort.” Faline leaned toward Aeric with a very stern face. She smiled “Where is Voren?” “Where do you think he is this early on a 'day of rest'?” she rolled her eyes.

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The center of the camp there was a cross roads of sorts that separated the quarters of the camp and the function specific areas of the camp. Many supply carts and blocks of troops would walk through. Between each road stood large tent structures that were more wood than canvas. Structures that were meant to have a bit more permanency. Many groups of people would group together and converse, or would run around with orders and satchels full of documents, or tools.

At the very center of this crossroads was a large wooden pole with many signs placed on it, directing the flow of traffic to their intended destination. A sizable group of people gathered around it, encircling a young man in brilliantly crafted white plate. He stood on a box with his thick leather bound religious text open. He was reading aloud o any that would hear him. He spoke not to the group before him, but to all passerby, shouting louder than he needed to to get his words across.

The Paladin's words were full of passion and momentary fury as he attempted to whip his audience with his righteous zeal. Yet, for all his dedication, he was still being vindictive. Preaching his religion in a den of sinners and heathens. Nothing was nobler than this in Voren's mind. Preaching the word of the gods when he knew they may hear, but not listen. Preaching when he knew that the sword was not the proper weapon for the time.

“And so, Hellen cast upon the lands of Mulchuria the three curses of vice!” He shouted turning his torso left to right. “And they did feast upon them greedily. So that they would become weak and Kalharen would smite them!” He bowed his head as he began to read the next verse. “Why would Hellen manipulate Kalharen to destroying Mulchria?” A soldier asked. “Because Kalharen doesn't like the weak of will.” Voren answered indignant that they would interrupt him. “But Mulchuria was strong militarily. I thought Kalharen was pleased by strong armies.” Another spoke. “Yes..” Voren stressed his word, annoyed. “ But when they fell to their decadence they became weak so Kalharen smote them. “Well technically they were subjugated by Issoes and Ulaen.”

Yet another spoke. A side conversation began on the subject. The group surrounding Voren slowly started to diverge into conversations about ancient societies and the effect the gods had on shaping the young world. Voren closed the book on his thumb, to keep his place. He tapped his foot impatiently. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “Contrivance Chapter 13 verse 11. Inspired by Kalharen!” Voren shouted out the name of the god. “Isseiah spoke unto Ulen who spoke unto his people. Through five seasons of burden they made four mighty weapons of war. Kalharen wrote his icon upon them and smiled.” “Oh I get it! The gods act through inaction!” A soldier shouted. “No they don't.” Voren hid his face in his hand. “Kalharen clearly influenced Isseiah.” “But he didn't directly act upon Mulchuria.” “THIS IS NOT A DISCUSSION!” Voren shouted, silencing the whole group. “But it is for us.” The soldier said quietly “Go easy on the foreigner.” A familiar voice shouted over the group.

In the back of the crowd he saw the familiar red hair of Ariane. She almost seemed like a new person with the grime washed form her. Her hair was straight, and bulled back into a bun. Two bangs hung down on both sides of her face. She wore that same smug smile that set Voren alight. Voren hadn't noticed her in the crowd until she spoke. After all she was wearing the same red tunic and tan panted uniform as the rest. Voren simply narrowed his gaze on the young woman uttering 'Oh... You.'

The conversations slowly abated and with them the cluttered mass slowly dissolved into the goings on of the encampment. Voren closed his book attaching it to the chain, letting it hang by his side. The paladin hopped down from his box, ready to leave as he had lost his spirit to continue, for the time. Ariane approached him. “Nice speech. I sat though all of it.” She greeted with a friendly tone. “It was a sermon, not a speech.” He grumbled. “Those are essentially the same aren't they?” She watched as Voren gave her a spiteful glare. She smiled “I wouldn't expect you to understand.” He turned kicking up dust from his feet. “You're angry at me, aren't you?” She asked. “Why wouldn't I be?” Voren grunted. “Over a friendly quarrel?” Her eyebrow raised, puzzled.

The paladin turned, stopping dead in his path. He tilted his head furrowing his brow at he young woman. 'Friendly.' He thought sarcastically, but didn't mutter aloud. Instead he stared at her indignantly. She continued to smile with her eyebrow locked firmly. Unwilling to break the silence the Paladin turned once again, throwing his hands into the air in silent protest. “See you at work!” She waved to a ever shrinking Voren as he stormed away.

Once again he found himself grumbling incoherently as he marched back to his camp. His head was held low on his shoulders, venting to the ground. His hands ached from clenching and his face slowly lit in a red hue. It was the second time she had left him so incensed, and from nothing. He stopped taking a few deep breaths.

He allowed his mind to think objectively. What was it that irritated him so much? Afterall, she was trying to be friendly, albeit in her own strange way. The Arec culture was an aggressive one, perhaps quarrels could be friendly, and fights social? The paladin mused greatly, eventually reaching his companions. He hastily found a seat, folding his arms over each other as he remained deep in thought. “More girl troubles?” Faline joked, placing a plate of cold food before him. “I don't understand why she's so...” “Combative?” The elf finished his sentence. “Perhaps she likes you?” Faline teased, feeling like a mother speaking to her growing son. “Then why would she be so hostile to me?” He spoke. “For example, she sat though an entire sermon to tease me.” “Wait. She sat through the whole thing?” The elf sat back and mused to herself with a smug grin. “She does like you.” “What?” His brow furled and his lips curled in confusion. “No, she doesn't. All she wants to do is fight.” He began cutting into his cold meal. “Arecs love to fight, but!” She expelled as she stood. “I have things to do. I want you to tutor the acolytes in healing and aid today. Can I trust you?” Voren swallowed hard on his bite. “All of them?” His voice filled with unease. Faline nodded.

At another end of the bustling camp Aeric and his friend stood over a small makeshift grave marker. It was a simple wooden post no more than a few inches by few inches thick. On it they had carved the name of their friend “Selena Pahlen Friend, beloved.” The man knelt infront of it gently touching is fingertips on the post as he muttered a few silent word. Aeric stood motionless behind him. “Aren't you going to grieve Bromiel?” “I already did.”

He picked himself up turning to face Aeric. With a heavy sigh he began to search for the words he wanted to speak. After several stifled attempts he couldn't think of a softer way to approach it. “How did she die?” He practically whispered. “I don't want to say.” “Damnit man! She was dear to me too.” He barked. Aeric drew quieter than usual, then took a deep breath.

Aeric recounted the entire tale to his friend, in horrid brutal detail, omitting nothing, not even the slightest transgression. It was what his friend deserved to hear. The truth, no matter how painful it was. It wasn’t just Aeric who had lost someone dear. Tandren took the harsh words stoically, he let out a long pained sigh, then with a solemn nod he embraced his friend. They didn't speak a word, no more needed to be spoken. They parted, giving some last kind words to the memorial. “Well...” Tandren spoke brazenly at long last. “Lets at least honor her memory properly by getting rowdy and into trouble again.” He let out a single huff of a laugh. “Sounds fun.” Aeric's voice picked up a tone of delight.

In the corner of the camp where the medical quarters were, Voren and his gathered mass assembled. The young Paladin took a look over the empty ground where so many wounded had laid before, and there was a noticeable difference in how many wounded were splayed out. A significant lack of them. Voren wondered to himself if they had died or he made such an impact. Both possibilities filled him with a sense of satisfaction, but he couldn't tell with one he felt better about.

There were a few medics walking up and down the rows of cots, more than he remembered from the day before. The only familiar ones were the old man, and the spirited red head he has become weary of. She greeted the party of Paladins with a smile and waved them over. Voren begrudgingly obeyed.

She was slightly bloodier and dirtier from when he had seen her not long before, her hair slightly tussled with beads of sweat beginning to form on the tips of her hair. The young woman had clearly been hard at work since the moment she arrived. She even had a bit of an exhausted vacant stare about her. “Good morning, holy people.” She started reaching into her kitbag for an undisclosed item. “Good morrow” Jenis replied, almost out of turn. “A patrol came back last night, some slight wounds, a few severe. If each of you can take a row to yourselves..” Voren began to speak, interrupting her. “Each of them is training, and not well versed in healing arts, quite yet. I brought them here to learn.”

Ariane scrunched her lips to the side of her face, perplexed. She had hopped to rely on the magical aid of the paladins. However she wasn't one to dwell on possibilities and quickly knelt next to her patient, beckoning the paladins forward. “Well I guess I can show your rookies the basics.” She smiled, procuring a needle and thin thread. “That wont be necessary.” Voren held up a hand, slowly placing it to the wound on the man's side. “Acolytes, watch carefully.”

The Paladin displayed his divine gifts, his hand hovered just above the skin, and a dull glow came across his hand. It was like his shadow had been replaced with light. Slowly the wound closed. Where there was no skin before, a lighter tone of flesh took its place. The acolytes looked on with awe. The man Voren healed had started clapping congratulatory, thanking the young man.

“Each of you has been given the attention of the gods, and each of you is capable of rendering their will.” Voren ignored the man thanking him.

“Your faith and understanding is what grants you the ability to manifest this gift into a healing touch.”

Ariane sat attentive as well, hoping to glean a few things, were she adorned in plates instead of her imperial uniform, she would have looked right at place. Instead she lead them to another wounded soldier. Voren hovered his hands over her belly. The wounded woman looked at the Paladin with unease and disbelief, though she had just seem the man effortlessly treat the other patient.

“Telma, this is for real isn't it?” She joked to Ariane. “Consult the 'Chant of Undoing' in our holy text, and remember these words.” He closed his eyes, hovering both his hands over her body. “Blessed be thy light; To beset wrong unto right..” Ariane slowly mouthed the words he spoke moments after he spoke them. "Where there was pain; your will shall be made. In your name."

Again the wound slowly healed itself under Voren's hands. The bewildered woman watched in utter amazement as the pain faded and her skin closed back up. The acolytes wore smiles on their faces, however Dalia's masked a growing sense of discomfort and unease. She was worried, what if she could never grant a divine blessing because of her nature. What if the powers that were at play were harmful to her?

“Hale, now you try.” Voren smiled, stretching out an arm to the next person.

The portly man hobbled over to the next soldier who clearly showed signs of distrust. The man's eyes darted back and forth and his mouth curled from side to side. Stammered words came out of his mouth as if he wished to say something of protest but couldn't. Ariane knelt by his head, placing her hands on both sides holding it stead. The red head bent over calmly and kissed the man, reassuring him and jokingly told him 'Don't look.' The smile on Voren's face flickered briefly as he watched Ariane peck the soldiers lips. His injuries had been tended to already, his wound cleaned and dressed, but still present. The medic dutifully removed the dressing showing a long and shallow cut across the man's chest down to his side. Hale's hands hovered over the man in a similar fashion to Voren. The acolyte began to speak, taking is a deep breath and closing his eyes.

“Take in the meaning of the words, Acolyte. Feel the divine energy flow through you as a conduit for the divine will.” Voren spoke calmly.

Hale slowly and steadily spoke the verse over and over, feeling himself slowly slip into a meditative state. Eventually the dull glimmer of light would reveal itself. The soldier leaned his head back into Ariane's calming hands as he felt a tickle across his wound. His fist clenched along with the Succubus's who sat not much further away. Though what he felt wasn't unpleasant, more of a reassuring discomfort. The wound closed, and a soothing warmth crossed the man's flesh. Once Hale was finished the man sat up, feeling his body able to move again. He twisted his torso left to right smiling.

“I can't belive it!” He ejected. “I feel fine.” The man smiled and winked at Hale. “Thanks.” His voice became rather warm. Hale slowly began to inch back. “Jenis, your turn.” Voren pointed to the next person.

As they relocated and gathered around the next wounded soldier, Dalia quickly glanced around noticing her party's attention fixed on the next patient. As she walked past her arm dangled at her side. Her fingertips gingerly slid across the man's thigh, casually as if she had given no thought to it. She turned her head and winked at the man, quickly falling back into place. He smiled quietly purring to himself.

For Jenis, the affair was a bit messier. The soldier's wounds were more extensive, but likewise tended to. However his recollection of the verse was spotty at best, with Voren filling in many omitted words. The Paladin sighed as the Feeble Jenis continued to stumble his words and break his concentration. Voren shook his head. When it became too much Voren Placed his hand on top of the wound, making a physical contact. With a simple huff he closed his eyes. The wound vanished. The amazement Ariane had felt from before suddenly returned with the newly demonstrated ability.

“When you become more well practiced, and your abilities improve, you can learn that a simple laying of the hands can heal a person, even of infection and disease. Though be warned, unlike the other method, this will slowly drain you, making you tired.” Voren spoke calmly, masking his impatience. “You can cure diseases, just like that?” Ariane spoke still enthralled. “Yes, Are you in need of it?” A smug grin curled on the side of Voren's face. “Yes! Oh my, we could save so many hours in prep ti-” She spoke with a youthful enthusiasm until Voren's meaning dawned on her. “Oh. You meant for me! Because of all the sex I get and you don't. You saucy cunt, you.” She laughed waging her finger at the Paladin.

Once again Jenis made an attempt at his healing art, Voren carefully guiding him through each step. Voren repeated his verse over and over, coaching the smug Jenis on what to think and to feel. Eventually the acolyte produced the slightest of result. Voren was pleased. He turned to the last remaining acolyte. The succubus.

She sat behind the group, slowly breathing nervously, rubbing her hands together. She attempted to hide her concern behind a smile, though her exasperation was obvious. She inhaled sharply when Voren pointed to her. Time seemed to slow for a brief instant that dragged on.

“Now it's your turn,” He spoke but the demon interrupted “Rebecca!” She blurted. Voren looked at her confused for a moment before returning to his calm face. “Right, Rebecca. You ready to give it a try?” The Paladin asked in a tone he couldn't figure if it was vindictive or concerned. “Mind if I sit this one out? Uh, sir!” She stumbled over her words. “Can you at least give it a try? You never know you might be good at it.” Voren smiled.

Dalia slowly inched towards the next cot, looking over a young female. She was rather alert and had been talking candidly with Ariane for some time. Her wound was a rather deep gash on her right leg, though like the rest it had been well dressed and tended too, all it needed as to heal over. The demon fought herself a bit as she slowly raised her hands over the leg. Could she even release a holy energy? The force was so divergent from her own being, even being around the healing set her on edge.

“W-w-what were the w-w-words again?” She smoke with her pained smile. “Blessed be thy light.” Dalia repeated after Voren.

Something else entered her mind. What if she couldn't maintain her illusion while channeling the energy? What if her true nature would bare itself? What if it damaged her? The thoughts kept bouncing around her head. Her teeth chattered and her breath quickened. Each word Voren spoke was slow to her, and she repeated them obediently, as if someone else was speaking, and she was merely observing.

When the verse was finished there was nothing. No even happened, no pain, no healing. Simply nothing occurred as if it was empty words. Dalia breathed an internal sigh of relief, until Voren urged her to try again. She darted her eyes towards his, pleading for a private word. The Paladin shrugged his shoulders and begrudgingly agreed. The two left to the corner of the large tent.

“I don't know what will happen, please don't make me do this.” She begged

“You want to become a paladin, right?” “Yes, its just...” Her voice trailed off. “What if something 'happens' and suddenly I am glowing and floating over everyone?” She fanned out her hands shrugging her shoulders.

“Think that will happen?” Voren chuckled.

“No.” The succubus whimpered. “I'm just not ready yet, I'm not comfortable here.” She grabbed her Forearm, and slowly rubbed it.

“Neither am I, Rebecca.” He spoke almost taunting with her name. “Listen, if you can't use divine ability to heal, perhaps you can draw upon another source?” He mused. “Non- demonic source” He amended.

“Do I count as a demonic source?” She lowered her voice

“What do you mean?” Voren asked.

“Well, maybe I can use some of my own power to try and heal?”

“Is it possible?” He asked genuinely curious.

“Not the faintest of clue. Its better than nothing I guess.” She spoke, Voren agreed.

They walked back, taking their former places. Dalia placed her hands over he wounded soldier's leg. The demon focused herself for a moment, closing her eyes. She took three deep breathes meditating on how she could channel her power. If she is able to draw from life, she figured she could return to life.

Her eyes opened with a brief amber flicker. Ariane caught it in the corner of her eye. She dismissed it off as a strange curiosity, but she couldn't help but wonder if the light had caught her dark eyes. Dalia felt a tingle work from her chest to her arms. She focused intensely on the wound, imagining it slowly close. Suddenly the soldier felt a slight tingle. The tingle grew to an itch which slowly transformed into a burning sensation. She started complaining about it.

“Hey I think something is wrong.” The solder alerted the demon. “ Ah! Is it supposed to burn?” Her face slowly contorted from the pain.

Voren leaned in, ready to stop the demon but to his amazement the wound was closing up. He watched in a dreaded awe as the flesh began to mend itself in a way that was woefully unfamiliar to his own ways. As the flesh closed it left behind a white scar-like seam. The Paladin finally jostled the demon, breaking her from her trance, and finishing the wound himself. Dalia looked at it, amazed.

“It worked...” She muttered quietly, drowned out under the soldiers complaints.

“How do you feel?” Voren placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Tiered and hungry.” She joked while panting, almost alluringly. Her comment seemed to go unnoticed by the Paladin.

They sat confused around the wound, quietly taking in the demonic work, before Ariane chimed in. With each of the acolytes having their turn the medic quickly procured her bag. She asked Voren if they would be healing anymore. She was replied with 'If we need to.' Ariane smiled.

“Well, I guess I can show you all the basics of wound treatment then. My turn to be the teacher.”

Ariane brought them to the next patient, explaining in great detail how to use her kit, and what each tool in the bag was for. She opted to leave out the explanations of the more skill intensive tools, rather favoring sterile rags and thread. As well she detailed proper placements of bandages and ligature points to control bleeding.

Voren was rather impressed with her culture's knowledge of medicine and healing arts. There were many tasks she hadn't gone over with him the day before that he sat and listened to attentively for a change. After her lesson was over she began guiding each member to another patient. Her an Voren watched over the acolytes and each other tending to the many wounded left in the tent. Despite her skill

she always fell back on Voren, asking him more and more about how to heal with magic. The paladin polietly and jokingly rebuffed her each time with a variation of, 'You are not worthy.'

This whent on for a few hours, with Voren using his abilities to heal and guided the other to heal, and Ariane showing them how to clean and dress a wound. The Paladin became rather wrapped in his work, admiring the skill of the Imperial medic, and eagerly treating another one of the soldiers. Forgetting momentarily who they were. Though, to him they were still seen as a task to complete. A broken leg. Required setting and mending. A light cut, needs padding. A bruise could be healed. Objectives, not people, not yet to him.

Then came a rumbling in the distance, soon followed by panicked voices. All in the tent looked towards the entrance. A solitary figure appeared. It was the old man, the senior surgeon.

“All hands outside, now!” He barked, and all the medics quickly gathered their things and rushed outside.

“Always before lunch!” Ariane barked indignantly as she ran.

Voren and his company slowly followed curious what was happening. He heard cries of pain and gargled voices. His pace quickened until he passed through the heavy flap of the tent. The midday sun blinding him temporarily. When his vision cleared he saw a huddled mass of bleeding soldiers.

They were still in their heavy banded armor, wreathing and squirming in pain, covered in blood. They screamed out their injuries as the medics attempted to tend to them. More and more wounded arrived, on stretchers or hobbling in form the aid of another. The medics were quickly overwhelmed with dying soldiers around them. Each orderly barking between each other tossing bandages around and other supplies. They too quickly became covered in blood and dirt, almost becoming indistinguishable in the mass. Voren slowly walked towards them.

“What happened?” One of the more senior medics asked to a soldier who could still stand. His head was half covered in a bandage himself.

“Our patrol happened upon a full battle array as we were getting supplies from a nearby town.” He spoke with his helmet limp in his arms. “About two-hundred or so, we barely survived.”

'Raiding' Voren thought in his mind. He clenched his teeth at the thought of them burning another village down, slaughtering innocent lives. The feelings he had for these people quickly vanished when he remembered what they were. Invaders. Voren continued to walk into the chaos. In a dark corner of his mind he felt he should sit and watch as a few of the soldiers die. Retribution for their crimes. He fulfilled his duty, he helped what he did, and trained his acolytes. He could walk away and let the soldiers suffer the consequences of their actions. Yet he continued to walk into the middle of them, heeding their cries and screams. The Paladin was at war with himself. Leaving them was wrong, but their actions may have warranted such retribution. Others looked on as the pristine white plated man walked into the sea of red and brown. 'Help me, oh gods help me!' They shouted to Voren and each other. Some soldiers were calm, almost accepting their fate, others begged ingloriously, with spittle and snot running down their pathetic faces. The paladin looked around him, his leggings now covered with smears of blood from those reaching out for mercy. Their cries muffled and dulled to his ears until a shrill voice snapped him back to reality.

“Voren! Please do something!” Ariane begged desperately.

Voren dipped his head, silently muttering something. He pressed his hands together fingertips first until his palms touched. Hes hands pointed directly upward. His chant grew louder until Ariane could hear him. He was praying. She couldn't discern verse nor word, but understood that the Paladin began to pray. She wouldn't watch in awe however. She felt indignant thinking he would rather offer final rites than to heal. Her attention turned to the screaming soldier underneath her.

The Paladin's chanting became more forceful and loud. “The flock has gone astray.” His hands slowly began to raise. “Guide them not to darkness and woe as I stand defiant in their path.” His hands slowly separated, his arms stretching outward. “For through me shall your light and mercy shine through unto the valley of doubt to lead them from their wayward path!”

The area became unnaturally still and quiet, then shined a powerful light centered on Voren. He head snapped upward and his arms extended fully, his fingers parting. A swift roar and a gust of wind filled the area. Then the sudden stillness again. Voren fell to his knee, breathing heavily. Dalia's fist was tightly clenched as she stood stiff. Blood trickled from her closed fist.

“In your name.” He huffed.

The clamor ceased, the noise stopped. All were still in disbelief. Slowly the soldiers began to move their once injured limbs to find the pain has ceased. Some kept searching their skin for wounds, others slowly started backing away from the Paladin. Some showed their gratitude. It didn't matter what they did, they were healed, and Voren knelt in the midst of them with a fist firmly planted into the ground holding him up as he breathed heavily.

“You all right? Sit down!” Ariane quickly jumped to Voren, assisting him.

“Ha! I'm alright Imperial.” He fell on his rear, and remained sitting. “I have a few more of those in me for today.” He boasted with pride.

“W-What did you do?”

“I channeled the will of my god.” He fell back onto his arms, still panting.

“You... saved all of them... I-I.” She sat next to him looking at the slowly dispersing group of soldiers.

“My god saved them.” Voren spoke slowly feeling his breath return to him.

“Please! Teach me how to do that.” She turned to him with wide eyes.

“That is something only the righteous can do, no matter how good you are with healing.” He boasted proudly.

The Paladin raised himself back on his feet, Ariane was swift to aid the young man to his feet. After the crowd had dispersed and several medics vanished back into the tent, the veteran approached the two. It had gone just a bit past midday, and he began releasing a few of his subordinates for lunch. After he released Ariane he grabbed Voren's hand with both of his and thanked him graciously, then departed without another word.

“Food?” Ariane asked Voren. He nodded beckoning his acolytes closer.

“You may return to our camp for a break. Spend the time reading your scripture and honing your abilities.” He addressed them in a rather authoritative voice.

“Can we grab food from the cooks?” Hale asked. Voren nodded. The three of them rendered their respects to Voren and departed. Ariane stepped in front of the Paladin smiling.

“Sooo..” She drew out the word. “What should we do?” She smiled with a hand rubbing her neck absentmindedly.

Faline ambled thorough the Imperial encampment, the proud elf following the sound of hammers beating metal. Still distraught after losing her chosen battle axe, she sought the employ of a blacksmith to make another, though nothing would replace her old one. It was a fine sturdy piece of dwarven steel about one-and-a-half times the length of a dwarf, and perfect for her in every way. As she followed the distinct metal on metal sound, she spotted a black skinned man working a forge in naught but a brown apron and his dark tan pants. His shoulders and face were covered in sweat that glistened in the summer sun. He peered up at the elf approaching him.

"Well, what have we here, a nice clean high born elf." He noticed the religious iconography on her pristine white armor. "And clergy no less." He spoke with a smile, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, they let you out of your hole?" She retorted with a half cocked smile. "Isn't the blazing inferno too much for you?" Faline responded to the drow.

"I like it hot." He struck the hammer down as he looked the beautiful elf over. "So what can I do you for?"

"I want to commission you for a battle axe."

"Wouldn't you like something more suitable, like a thin long knife, something a little thing like you can 'handle'?" The drow let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh trust me, I can handle a good axe." She winked. "Long axe at that. I like 'em big."

"I'm sure you do." He quipped sarcastically. "I'd offer you a seat, but I'd imagine that stick in your ass doesn't make it easy sitting. Being clergy I bet that's the only thing you feel there too." He mumbled.

He spoke quietly, but the elf's keen ears could still hear them. She took a few slow steps towards the drow, making an obvious effort to sway her hips as she did. Faline's face was a few inches from his. She curled her lips into a flirtatious, and devilish smile. The drow's gaze was fixed on her, his eyes narrowed like a predator closing in on its prey.

His gaze was only broken by the leathery fingertip of the elf, pressing against his chin. Her palm was facing up, with her fingers curled but not touching. A light hand that closed his mouth and tilted his head upward slightly. She slowly tilted her own head closer to the drow.

"Wouldn't you like to know." She purred.

Her hand dropped and she took a couple steps back. She too began to wander the man with her eyes. His form was very masculine, with toned muscles along his arms. His chest puffed out the apron with clear lines running along his chest. Faline found him to be in exquisite shape for a drow. She clicked her tongue along with a wink as she stood back from the forge. The darkness of the drow's face saved him from an embarrassing moment as he began to blush.

"Now, will you make the weapon or not?"

"Of course, anything for you, high born." He jeered "It'll be a few days though." He rolled his eyes.

"Shame, I thought they taught you males to show respect to a female." She placed her hands on her hips.

"Yes, but to true females of the underworld, but to you..." He chopped his lips a couple times. " I'm a bit peckish, perhaps you'd fetch me something to taste?"

Faline's eyes widened, though her smile had not faded. The elf was more entertained at the dark man's insults than offended by them, but she could not come up with a suitable insult to return to him. Instead, she stood there with her mouth slowly opening. Satisfied, the drow crossed him arms leaning towards Faline looking impatient, as if he expected her to actually fetch him food. Faline composed herself, curling her smile to the side of her face.

"Very well, spider bedder. Would you like it with dirt or mushrooms?" She spoke condescendingly.

"Who says I was talking about food?" He winked.

She was speechless once again. This time it was her to blush. She tilted her head away from the drow while still looking him in the eye. Her neck was clearly showing as the wind began to pick up her shining blond hair. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her blush. They stood silently, the drow still gazing expectantly as Faline slowly built into a laugh. Her laugh became louder and she doubled over. When she recovered she looked up at the man, who had gotten closer.

"Oh my! I'm sorry, but I doubt you could handle me." She stood upright still chuckling.

"Well, I'll have to take the stick out first, wont I?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't have trouble fitting with it in there." She glanced down at him then back up to his face, tilting her head to the side, holding her hand up, almost pinching her finger and thumb together.

"Please” He laughed. “You'll have to do better than that. So will the high born sun worshiper fetch me something to eat?" He licked his lips seductively.

"What will your matron think if you 'sully' yourself on me, Commoner?" She gritted her teeth.

"I don't have one, tree lover." He jutted his chin smiling smugly.

"Then who ever you get to your knees for, web sleeper." She taunted taking a step forward.

"I won't be flustered by a damn leaf eater." He responded in kind.

"You should mind yourself labor slave!" She flared her nostrils, barking at him.

"Least I'm not a hypocritical child toucher!" He threw out his arms, his fingers flared in a tight claw.

"Oh coming from the spider fucker! That's grand. Is this before or after your mother slept with you to 'break you in?" She spat venomously at her natural enemy.

They continued to step toward each other. Like with Voren and Ariane, a crowd slowly began to form, hoping to see the proud paladin and drow break their words and engage each other in a fight. Though they growled and hissed at each other their words were far from finished. The drow was visibly moved by the elf's comment. He droned out his words quietly through clenched teeth.

"At least I'm not some kind of arrogant trickster that preys on peoples weaknesses to corrupt their minds."

“You won't shake my faith spider fucker.” Her eyes were piercing narrow slits that burned with passion.

“You already used that one, leaf eater.”

They glared at each other with gritting teeth not more than inches away. Their eyes peered deeply into each other, his vibrant red eyes reflected in her stunning blue gems. Neither blinked, neither took a breath. They stood motionless. Until a slight breath from Faline escaped. Instantly their arms flung around each other wrapping tightly as their lips mashed together almost violently. Obnoxious grunts and moans escaped between the two as they pressed together in passionate embrace. His dark hands tangled themselves in her long blond hair, fraying the perfect flow, as hers pressed into his short white hair pressing the top of his head closer. It wasn't kissing so much as a clash of flesh, with their aggressive actions leaving little room for breath.

In their passion they crowd's cheering fell on deaf, or rather inattentive ears. Faline pressed away gasping for breath. Her face was deeply reddened, her breath was heavy. The drow continued to kiss her face and nibbled her neck. She joined back, pressing her tongue against his, fighting for the top. Moments passed and she broke away again, This time staring into his face. "My tent, or yours?" She blurted between her breaths.

Once again, the spirited medic somehow convinced Voren to accompany her. His exhausted state only aided Ariane in her persuasion. She was a very eager and willing ambassadress of her people to the disenfranchised paladin. Voren hated her people, but her, he didn't. There was something he felt about her, something genuinely good. Even if her morals were greatly questionable to him.

Though Voren couldn't help but be goaded into another argument with the medic. Their difference in morals and ideology would clash from time to time as they walked through the camp. Each time the young paladin suppressed a deep urge to allow himself to be caught in a little fight again.

They had already finished their meals, and were simply walking about as the medic enjoyed her break. She kept asking him about how to use magic to heal. A great fancy she was quickly becoming fascinated with.

“There are some that can simply, 'do' it, back in The Empire.” She stated. “But its very rare, and very dangerous. Beings aren't meant to control nature like that.”

“Magic comes from the gods.” Voren smiled.

“That's not true.” Ariane disagreed with a sharp smile on her face. “Magic is a force of nature, just like fire or wind. Beings like us can't draw from it only utilize it.” She spoke, Voren looked at her indignantly.

“Then why did all of you look amazed to see it, like it didn't exist.”

“It wasn't that we don't believe it exists. It exists, you can quantify it and measure it.” She pantomimed mechanical motions with her hands. “But a human able to manipulate it through their person, and survive.” She paused. “ Its like watching a person burst into flames, or create electricity from touch.”

“Elec-what?” He spoke confused, quickly moving on. “Well my god protects me, and my faith allows me to harness their power.” He spoke more trying to sell her his religion than to explain how it worked.

“But people have been able to do it in the past without church affiliation. Just, again, very rare and dangerous.” Her words slowly waned.

“I know. You think I grow exhausted after a few times?” Voren spoke innocently, yet Ariane snickered. “Without the gods blessing a person would become weak and tired as well as the person they helped, since they drew from within themselves, not a being of immeasurable power, to heal.”

“So even if I could learn, it would be useless during a battle.” She grew somber as if her hopes had been dashed.

“Exactly.” He spoke with a vibrant tone, oblivious to Ariane.

The two came to a stop. Ariane took a curt breath and huffed out wistfully before recomposing herself. It was a foolish dream that was short-lived. Despite seeing it with her own eyes that magic could be wielded by a human, Voren's words brought her back to reality. She smiled. She wasn't distraught anymore. Before she could even continue on with the subject there was a rumbling coming from a ways away, the sound of hasty feet running in armor.

As the two looked they saw a couple running through the dirt avenues of the camp, hand in hand. One was a dark figure, the other white in contrast. As they grew closer more details were easily discerned. Faline was trailing behind a drow, their hands firmly gripped together, eyes widened in elation. Ariane recognized the other paladin and turned to Voren, who stood in utter confusion. Faline smiled and shouted back at him in a flurry of almost incomprehensible words as she passed.

"HiVoren! TellAericI'llbeawhile!" Her words grew quieter the further she ran.

“Was that...” Voren slowly raised a limp hand to point. “Was that A Drow?”He spoke softly more to himself.

“Yup.” Ariane smiled, admiring the male's physique as he passed.

“How?” Voren blurted unintelligibly.

“He's most likely a citizen. Arnay was built over a Drow city, coincidentally.” The two began walking again.

“How?” Voren exclaimed again, his confusion still growing. “They are villainous creatures!”

“They're actually fun people.” Her face grew a guilty grin that set Voren's teeth on edge.

A red tinge began to grow on Voren's face again admist the look of confusion. Ariane didn't need to say anymore on the subject to fluster the naive Paladin. She took him to a nearby table when she spotted someone who was selling a confectionery treat. “Ooh!” The medic rose to her feet. “Sweet bread.” She left as Voren sat at the table.

When they finally arrived at the large infantry tent the drow tossed the entry flaps open. The blinding sunlight surged into the room causing the occupants to shield their eyes. The drow stood with his arms out huffing heavily at the entrance, Faline attached to one. The several members in the tent stared back in confusion; some of them were playing card games, others chatting idly. The dark man took in a deep breath.

"GET OUT!"

The occupants hurriedly fled, leaving with well wishes and offerings of good luck. One woman left telling him to 'Bang her like a wardrum.' Before the flaps could even close he quickly threw Faline to the ground. She turned and landed gracefully on her back with no harm to herself. as the drow dropped on her they both began to hurriedly remove the metal plates from her body. They were tossed haphazardly around the tent, knocking over cots and night stands. She hadn't even been fully revealed of all her armor, as there were still a couple pieces on her hands and legs. Her breastplate had long since been discarded. The drow fumbled with the leather strings of Faline's gamberson, while continuing to kiss her. His attentions kept alternating between the two as the elf tried to unbind her vambraces and take the apron off the male at the same time.

"Just rip it off!" She shouted in frustration.

His fingers plunged between the stitching and his muscles bulged as he pulled the heavy cloth apart. The sharp sounds of the fabric tearing were muffled under the clanking of the plates still on the elf's legs. Once the padding was torn away, her skin was exposed. Though the tent was still and warm, the sensation of flowing air on her body was a wonderful feeling. The drow wasted no time covering one of her breasts with his soft lips, dancing his tongue on her flesh. His hands ran down her body flicking through the assorted belts to release more of her armor.

Faline moaned softly, pressing his head closer into her. With her free hand she too began undoing more straps of her armor. She bent her knees bringing her legs closer as the drow pressed between her legs. His attention once again had to turn from her body to her adornments.

"Why is there always more belts!?"

"I didn't say you could talk, male!"

One by one the bits of armor on her legs were removed and quickly tossed aside. The final obstacle was her her finely crafted pants. His fingers wrapped tightly around the waistband. She lifted her hips allowing him to begin tugging them away from her body, revealing more of her light flawless skin. The pants bunched around her ankles. He lifted her legs into the air, looking her in the eyes as with one final tug they were off her body. His hands firmly grabbed both of her legs, they slithered to the inside of her thighs.

They opened up to reveal the beautiful shape of the forbidden fruit of his kind. The shape so familiar, and so different. He licked his lips lustfully as he grew closer. Faline brought her knees up, following his hands as she rested her legs. She felt the warm breath on her body, and soon the drow would envelope her entirely with a curt shout of pleasure from the elf. She was sweet and soft. He engorged himself greedily on her. Faline rested her hands on the top of his head assisting him. Her fingertips began to dig into his scalp as she moaned.

"So much better, isn't it?" She threw her head back.

He replied back with a slow and gravely moan that tingled her. He placed his thumb under his lip on top of her. It began rubbing in circles gingerly before slowly disappearing into her flesh. His other fingers circled just below. She grunted each time they pressed, but made no attempt to stop him. She laid back in ecstasy, enjoying the skill of the smith. Her chest rose and fell quickly, rising higher and higher as the drow's tongue danced on her sensitive clit. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, closed tightly, she took in a deep breath letting out a loud groan of satisfaction as she reached satisfaction. Her body jumped slightly, and her eyes flew open once she felt the fingers begin entering her. The drow lifted his head, dragging his tongue on her body.

'Whatda'ya know. No stick." He smiled.

"Not yet, anyway." She purred.

The drow began to remove his pants with his free hand, the other still placed firmly on Faline's body. The pants rested at his knees. After a bit of thrashing he could only remove them from one leg. Faline grunted at him, rushing the drow back to her body. She felt the warm and firm press of flesh against hers. He slowly rubbed it up and down her moist slit. The elf bit her lip in anticipation. The male simply shook his head with an evil smile.

She left the male enter her body and grabbed him digging her nails into his back. She thrust her lips onto his, engaging once again is a passionate kiss. He pushed and pulled several times enjoying the warmth of her body, each time pressing deeper into her until his lap pressed against hers. The speed of his thrusts increased each time until there was a sharp slap every time their bodies met. Moans escaped their enclosed lips.

The elf's legs locked themselves behind the drow's back pressing him even closer to Faline. Her body eagerly taking in his member. Each slap grew louder, every time it grew faster. The elf threw her head back and began moaning loudly, digging her fingers into his back. But at the height of their passion the drow stopped, slowly pulling himself from her. 'What are...you... we aren't finished!" Her breathing hardly allowing Faline to talk.

She felt a pressure building in a different spot. She gasped suddenly and her eyes flew open as she realized what was happening, yet made no attempt to dissuade him. Her facial expressions turned once more, as her teeth started to grit and her eyes began to close. He was entering her, slowly. Though it hurt, she pressed him harder with her legs.

"What's the matter, elf? A true woman can have a man anywhere."

"There's a stick in my ass, remember?" She joked through her teeth.

She protested finally, pushing him away. As the male sat back, he shook his head. Faline propped herself up on her hands breathing heavily, her body now glistening in sweat.

"Its a bad angle..." She turned her self around, placing herself on her knees,then bent over. "Here. Try it now."

The drow greedily grabbed her hips, dragging her into his lap. Once again he pressed into her. this time her body graciously accepting him. The moan she let out was almost lyrical the deeper he began to press. Her body pressed into him as well. She curled her lips and grunted as the last bit of his length was in her body. Her hips swayed lovingly as the drow hovered over her back.

The drow kissed her and slowly began to pull himself from her. As he would press back into her, she jutted her hips into him, grunting. The ring around his member slowly loosened with every wave. The tension her body felt lessened along with the pain, allowing the drow to begin again in earnest. He leaned back, grabbing her hips firmly as he guided her hips onto his member. The drow watched his dark flesh plunge into her fair skinned cheeks. Their bodies began to clash harder shooting out the distinct slap of flesh.

The strength in Faline's arms gave out and her body fell to the ground. She grabbed at the dirt with her hands digging into the ground. Her clenched teeth gave way to loud passionate moans as she felt him press into her over and over. It wasn't long before the male felt himself swell, and Faline began shouting with anticipation. With a sudden tightening of his grip he thrust his body one last time, releasing himself into the elf.

His body draped over her, panting heavily. Their bodies clung together temporarily until the male rolled off of the elf. Faline's body stayed as it was, her hips jutted into the air, gasping for breath. Between the two the only action was heavy breathing. Faline took in a breath.

"So..... About that axe." The two started to laugh.

---

Sorry Anons, but that's all there is to this chapter due to a power outage and no back-up. Hopefully it'll be finished soon.