Episode 3: The Beast and the Priestess
Written by: Tehri
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So far, all had gone so very well. Perhaps a little too well, in hindsight; it was easy to get swept up in a half-baked plan gone surprisingly well and simply float on the euphoria of that for a while, and Lily knew all too well that it could all go downhill so very quickly if one stayed swept up in that.
But how was she supposed to just let that go, when she’d managed to trick her way into the one place in Silverdale where such tricks would normally be discovered so very quickly? It was a point of pride, damn it, and she wasn’t going to let such an achievement slide!
That being said, having tricked her way inside the temple of Inrifael, she was… perhaps just a little bit stuck. Just a little.
Savrosil had kept his word and had guided her in the city, had kept her shielded from unfriendly eyes and had brought her to the very doorstep of the temple. He had even guided her to people who were (for some reason or another that she refused to find out) in possession of halvling-sized clothing of the same kind as those worn by priests and priestesses of Inrifael, and thereby also to the somewhat half-baked part of her plan.
For the past two months, Lily had been masquerading as a fledgling priestess of a recently established temple of Inrifael in halvling lands – a ruse that had only gone so well due to that ridiculous lack of knowledge most Big Folk had of those places. If anything, they’d seemed very glad to hear that the Peace-bearer’s reach now extended so far north and east – glad enough, in fact, that they’d arranged for her to meet with the high priest the very next day when she’d expressed a wish to meet him in order to discuss a bond between their two temples.
Truth be told, she was growing heartily sick of the temple. She’d been able to meet with the high priest nearly every day, and she could tell that he’d grown very attached to her in the relatively short time she’d been there, enough so that his eyes were wandering and that he’d begun to feel a bit more free with friendly touches. Her own invitations were perhaps responsible for that, and he hadn’t told her off for them at all; if anything, he’d begun to very cautiously respond to them. But he needed a firm nudge to go further, and Lily could tell that Savrosil was rapidly growing impatient. She’d only gotten as far as she had without using his blessing, and in Inrifael’s temple she couldn’t use it without being discovered.
Really, those magical wards she’d discovered on her first few days were a pain. Not only did they ward the temple from attacks, but they would warn about magic used inside the temple that was not sanctioned by the Peace-bearer himself. Any attempt at using Savrosil’s blessing would be met with immediate retaliation.
But now she had to act quickly – especially before anyone in the temple grew suspicious of her. A few priests and priestesses had already given her looks that she recognised as openly doubtful and suspicious; she couldn’t linger any longer.
Exactly how she even got to the point of being in the high priest’s lap while feverishly kissing him, she couldn’t say.
How she got to the point of him responding to those kisses was so far beyond her understanding that she wasn’t even going to try.
“Shouldn’t,” he mumbled between kisses. “We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, this is— We can’t, it’s not—”
“But you want to,” she murmured, pressing firmly against him, drawing a half-choked moan from him. He was hard already, he wouldn’t need much more convincing, just a little bit more… “No one will know, no one will find out…”
She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned in response. His grip around her tightened, as though hoping to pull her even closer as he rutted against her, eager and willing.
“You’re poison,” he gasped. “What are you doing to me, Lily? No, we can’t, we can’t, if someone finds out, if they—”
“They won’t,” she insisted. “You know what acolytes are like, they do this all the time, and the priests turn a blind eye because they fuck and are fucked by the acolytes so often! They’d be hypocrites to be angry about this when they indulge so often.”
She knew already, she’d seen plenty just quietly sneaking around the temple at night; the whole damn temple was a self-righteous and sanctimonious den of lust, and what else could be expected when a large group of people were mostly kept within its walls? And yet some of them claimed to have taken vows of celibacy, the damn hypocrites…
She smiled and gave a languid roll of her hips, testing the waters, feeling how those last strands of sanity the high priest clung to trembled.
“Come to me, just come to me,” she murmured with her lips pressed to his ear. “I’ll keep your secret. I want you, I know you want me, that’s all we need, so just—”
He pushed her firmly against him in an effort to hold her still, held her and simply breathed for a moment to collect himself.
“We can’t,” he insisted again. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want to, but we can’t. You’re the sweetest poison, but I can’t do this.”
Lily pursed her lips, perhaps just a touch annoyed at his insistence. She was losing him already; two months of careful manipulation would go down the drain in moments if she didn’t do something, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel that Savrosil was getting wroth with her.
She glanced up at the warding sigil carved over the door.
Fuck this place and everyone in it, there is only one way.
Before he could push her away, she reached up to cup his face in her hands, ensuring that he was looking at her, that he was meeting her eyes. He looked mildly confused for a moment – until her eyes gained a distinct reddish tint, a ruby-red ring around her pupil that he couldn’t ignore, a sign that he doubtlessly recognised if that look of surprise in his eyes was anything to go by.
“I know you want me,” she told him quietly, her voice laced with the blessing of a god, with an irresistible suggestion. “I know you want to have me, right here, right now. So take me. Fuck me. There’s nothing else you want in life, nothing else you want more than you want me right now. Screw the Peace-bearer and everything he demands of you, and just come here and fuck me.”
She could see the warding sigil over the door light up like a beacon, heard the unearthly screeching howl of the warning sounding, heard the bells of the temple begin to ring. It didn’t matter – they’d need to take a moment to find her anyway, if not to try to break down the warded door to the high priest’s quarters. There was plenty of time to drag this man back to Savrosil’s arms – and as his eyes seemed to grow hazy, he certainly wasn’t in a position to resist any longer.
Nearly a day later saw Lily hidden away in a cramped alleyway, panting after a long run. She’d only just managed to escape the temple in the end; as she had just about predicted, Inrifael’s followers had in the end decided to break down the door to their unresponsive high priest’s quarters, especially once they heard sounds coming from within that sounded distinctly, well, unchaste.
She wasn’t certain about what seemed to have shocked them more – the sight of their beloved high priest fucking the visiting (alleged) priestess from the halvling lands, or the fact that he’d seemed just as willing to turn his unchaste attentions on them when they tried to pull him off of her. In the confusion, said visiting (alleged) priestess had managed to slip away, running like mad for the gates.
That was a day ago. Things had gotten very out of hand since then.
The evening following her escape, the ground in Silverdale had begun to shake. As people had poured from their houses, screaming in fright, the gates to the temple had at last collapsed. Lily had watched from the roof of a house how priests, priestesses, acolytes, and novices had rushed to escape the calamity, fearful of the sudden upheaval. Like a whisper carried on the wind, she’d heard Savrosil’s voice, telling her that Inrifael’s wrath had struck at last and that it was time for her to leave the city.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy. She’d reclaimed her old clothes and her pack and her weapons from where she’d hidden them, only to suddenly find the place surrounded by both city guards and furious priests of Inrifael, and she’d almost been caught. Since then, she’d been frantically trying to find a way out that didn’t involve passing the gates – except it seemed impossible now.
With a loud groan, she leaned against a house wall. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lay down to sleep, but every moment she wasn’t in motion was a moment when guards could close in on her. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t stay. But she had to rest.
“Fucking get me out of here,” she growled at the empty space around her, knowing that Savrosil had to be listening. “You said I wouldn’t need to worry so long as I got out of the temple! What the fuck do you call this?!”
“An easy day’s pay,” replied a voice.
Moving swiftly, Lily turned and reached for her dagger – but not fast enough, for a hand grasped her collar and lifted her off the ground, slamming her against the wall hard enough to make her head spin. It was a man, she realised dimly through the pain shooting through her head, a man she recognised, one of the damn crooks who’d given her the priest-garb she’d used!
“You’ve caused a lot of trouble,” he laughed. “At least you can be useful in one more thing in life, right? You’ll be my meal-ticket for this month! The reward they’ve promised to anyone who brings you in is bigger than any they’ve ever offered before, you know!”
She squirmed, tried to gain enough leverage to kick at him, to do anything, but his hand on her collar twisted and pressed against her throat, making it hard to breathe. He only needed to wait.
Just as her vision started going black around the edges and she felt sure that she wouldn’t last much longer, something slammed into the man’s side, causing him to cry out in pain and release her, letting her drop to the ground. She coughed and gasped for air, trying to get to her feet again, but her eyes immediately sought out the newcomer – only to find a dwarf standing there, a dwarf with fiery red hair, all clad in grey, a gleaming axe in his hand.
“You should get out of here,” the dwarf said grimly, glaring at the man. “I don’t take kindly to people trying to hurt someone smaller than them.”
The man stumbled to his feet, pulling a dagger from its sheath and aiming it at the dwarf with one hand while he pressed the other to his side.
“Do you know who you’re trying to help?!” he cried. “This rat is wanted by the city guard and by the priests of Inrifael! Don’t get in my way, you bastard, or you’ll get the same treatment as her!”
He was bleeding, Lily realised, bleeding from a cut in his side. There wasn’t a single speck of blood on the dwarf’s axe, and yet he must’ve cut deep.
But the dwarf had noticed too – and he was shaking where he stood, the grip on his weapon tensing as though it were a lifeline. And yet she could see sweat starting to bead on his forehead, could see his jaw clenching, could see how the muscles in his shoulders began to twitch. For just a moment, he glanced at her and spoke through gritted teeth, his voice low:
“Hide, lass. Hide and don’t come out, no matter what you hear.”
Something about how he’d said that made her uneasy. That wasn’t the tone of a person who merely intended to rough up a person. She’d heard this tone before, mostly from people who stubbornly tried to fight against Savrosil’s blessing with all their might. This tone was that of a person who wasn’t going to be in control of their actions much longer.
Though she stumbled, she turned and fled. Behind her, she could hear a growl begin to fill the air, growing louder with every step she took, easily drowning out the shocked cries of the man who’d struck her – though not the screams, once they began, screams that echoed in the still air in tandem with the roar of something monstrous.
There was nowhere to go. She couldn’t go into the streets again, couldn’t risk getting caught now; but the alley was narrow and filled with boxes and stacks of barrels and old refuse, and there were no easy hiding-spaces. But neither did she dare to even look behind her as the screams began to die down, nor to try to turn back. Instead, she swore under her breath and climbed inside one of the open barrels, curling up in there as tight as she could, and only listened.
The screams had faded into weak gurgling moans, barely audible over the sound of flesh being ripped apart and odd gulping noises that Lily desperately tried not to think too closely about. But slowly, those noises faded too – replaced instead by the sound of sniffing, low growling, and slow and deliberate steps coming in her direction.
Swearing in her mind, the halvling realised that she couldn’t even move to put her pack over her to hide better, or even try to pull something to cover the barrel’s opening. Whatever was coming towards her now was sniffing the air, clearly following a scent; hiding was useless now. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Savrosil, you useless bastard, help me! Get me out of here!
The steps stopped. The sniffing and the growling stopped.
Lily dared a single glance up at the opening, and immediately wished she hadn’t looked. A hideous emaciated creature was staring down at her, a creature with a head resembling a wolf’s or maybe a bear’s, with open drooling jaws with sharp teeth. Its sunken eyes were a milky white, making them appear nearly luminous in the gloom of the alleyway.
And, more horrifically to the poor halvling, there was blood all over its face and its front, and on the large clawed paw that reached into the barrel to fish her out.
Maybe it was luck. Maybe Savrosil did indeed intervene, one way or another. Maybe all those games of throwing rocks or other things with her siblings when they were all children had, somewhat belatedly paid off. Truthfully, Lily didn’t know.
All she knew was that as soon as she’d been fished out of the barrel and the beast’s maw opened wide as though to take a bite from her, she finally screamed and unsheathed her dagger, throwing it blindly, missing the creature by a mile – and yet managing to cut a rope somewhere above them. The last thing she saw before blissful unconsciousness was a stack of barrels falling over them.
Six days had passed since the fall of the temple of Inrifael in Silverdale. While the shock and terror of the city’s populace had mostly faded, it had instead turned to anger and a demand for answers regarding how such a thing could happen, and the priests found themselves unable to explain the calamity without admitting the most grievous fault exhibited by their own high priest.
Word was that the high priest had survived, though precisely how, no one could say. But he wasn’t himself anymore. Gone was the strict and steadfast man so many had come to look up to, replaced instead by one who seemed broken, who insisted that the follies of his youth had caught up with him, and, more importantly, whose connection to the Peace-bearer had been irreparably severed. The venerable Inrifael had well and truly cast out one of his most beloved followers – an event that was even more unusual than a mountain crumbling.
Of course, much of this was unknown to Lily at the time. She was, by then, already halfway to Meadowhill along the northern caravan road, accompanied by a certain fiery-haired dwarf.
The dwarf was named Tamrus, or so he’d told her on that first night away from Silverdale as they were hiding from the guards patrolling the roads. He had rather reluctantly admitted that he and the creature that had attacked her were one and the same, and that the falling barrels had knocked both of them out for a while. He’d woken up first, had heard guards nearby, and had swiftly picked her up and gone to hide until the best opportunity rose to leave.
Precisely how they even got out of the city was a little hazy to Lily’s memory. She’d had a pounding headache from when she woke up to the next day, and the dwarf had insisted that she move as little as possible, just in case the barrels had hit harder than he thought. What she did remember was a little undignified and involved being stuck inside a sack and told not to move as Tamrus simply carried her out from the city.
She had already quietly vowed to herself that no one would ever know about that. Her time in Silverdale had been enough of a damn disaster already.
Sitting together by the fire on the evening of that sixth day, off the road towards Meadowhill, Lily found herself staring intently at the dwarf, watching for any signs of him turning into that creature again. He’d seemed very tired during the past few days, and she’d come to realise that he didn’t sleep much; though, to be fair, he didn’t seem to be eating much either. What little was in his pack were mainly fruits and vegetables and a little bit of waybread; no dried meats or anything of the sort that she usually saw dwarven merchants bringing with them in caravans. Yet he willingly shared what little he had with her, for all that he grumbled about her appetite.
She’d spent plenty of time considering what she’d seen in the alleyway, going over it again and again while trying to convince herself that she wasn’t mad. Things like that just weren’t normal. Of course, druids shifted into different creatures frequently, if rumours told correctly. But druids rarely travelled far from their groves, and even rarer were those who learned to shift into creatures that… Well, that didn’t exist, for one, or that were that horrifying. Besides, druids were mostly in control of themselves in those shapes. And of when they shifted.
“How does that happen?” she asked suddenly, breaking the heavy silence in their little camp. Tamrus blinked and looked up from where he’d been poking at one of the bits of firewood that wasn’t burning properly. “When you turned into that… thing. Is it something you control?”
He blinked again, something hesitant in his eyes before he looked back down at the firewood.
“It’s not,” he muttered. “That’s the problem. You don’t just control hunger. Or curses.”
Oh. Great.
The dwarf frowned, staying silent for a moment before he haltingly spoke again:
“I’ve spoken to anyone I can think of. Priests. Druids. Cultists. Sorcerers. Anyone with knowledge of magic or curses, really. Druids were my best bet, but they couldn’t do more than guide me in how to avoid shifting without some sort of… stimulant.”
“And by ‘stimulant’, you mean blood,” Lily summed up. “Correct?”
“Blood or meat,” Tamrus answered. “The scent is…” He grimaced and shook his head. “It’s overpowering. Hard to resist.”
The halvling glanced at her pack where it sat by her bedroll and briefly considered just how quick she might get far away from this dwarf if she started right now and kept walking through the night. If she were lucky, perhaps Savrosil would even attempt to pull her into his realm again – unlikely, but in this case it would for once not be unwelcome.
Then she glanced at the dwarf again, looked at how he avoided her eyes, kept his gaze fixed on the fire as though hoping to see something in the flames. He looked lost, somehow, lost or abandoned and weary beyond belief.
And while she’d never admit to it for the rest of her life, Lily couldn’t help but feel a sting of pity for him.
“So,” she said at length, reluctantly abandoning the previous subject and trying (and failing) to ignore the sting of pity. “Meadowhill. What do we hope to find there?”
“We?” Tamrus looked up again and raised an eyebrow, something unimpressed in his eyes now when he peered at her over the fire. “I am going to spend a single night there and then move on west and north. Lass, I’m willing to keep company with you until we get there, if only to make sure the guards don’t come and ride you down, but once we’re in Meadowhill, you’re on your own.”
“Oh, I am, am I?” Lily huffed and crossed her arms, glaring back at him. “Well, then you can’t really say much if I just happen to go the same way as you, can you?”
He scoffed. She raised her eyebrows in response, silently daring him to tell her to just fuck off.
“I helped you because that man who assaulted you wouldn’t have stopped at just that,” he told her bluntly. “That’s not an invitation for you to follow me around like a duckling.”
“Duckling?!”
“What else would you call it?”
“Safety in numbers. Better than travelling alone.”
So the bickering went on until the dwarf grumbled about keeping watch while the halvling slept. By the time Lily had curled up to sleep, no agreement had been reached; but she lay awake a long while, watching him where he sat by the fire, and smiled to herself.
Perhaps a travelling companion wouldn’t be too bad. At least there’d be someone more reliable to help her if trouble came knocking.