The Artificer: A Holy Sword in a Cursed Land
By Steven Lourie

Chapter 4

It was quite late by the time Draev decided to return to his room, having traded enough words with other artificers that he knew too little or liked even less to last two lifetimes. He paused at the door, putting an ear to it. He heard the soft murmur of conversation, but no more weeping. Taking this as an encouraging sound the artificer opened the door and slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. What he saw as he turned around was Saril bereft of Daa's aid, laying nude and immobile upon the bed, head resting against a pillow while Amalleah sat cross-legged near her, still draped in the bedclothes and apparently mid-sentence when she looked up with sorrow-reddened eyes to see Draev standing there. The artificer sent an inquiring glance to Saril, who merely shrugged her armless shoulders.
" We are all girls here, or lovers. No need for secrets, and besides, Daa needed to return to her liquid state a few hours ago. We know Amalleah's past, she should know ours as well. "
" Of course, it's just...unusual to see you so open about your curse with someone you just met today, " Draev admitted, standing awkwardly where he was, trying to gauge the situation.
" No choice in the matter I'm afraid. It is unusual, I'll admit, but it is unusual to find a fellow elf laboring under a curse as extensive as my own, " the bodyguard replied, looking up to Amalleah, who met her gaze and nodded slightly.
" It-it has been two thousand years since I was transformed, " the maiden blade said haltingly, still coming to grips with the concept, " everyone I had known is long dead and buried, even Klen. I have no home, no family and no future. I have spoken with Saril, who has been most supportive, and I wish to stay with you, at least until I can once again find a place to call my own. You do not object...? " she asked, her face anxious. Draev traded looks with Saril, whose eyes spoke more than her lips could.
" I remember an elf who needed help when there was no one else who could, and I will tell you what I told her; you may travel with me, with us, as long as you wish it so. We cannot replace what you have lost, but we can try and rebuild, slowly, a life of meaning once again, " the artificer replied, his eyes never leaving Saril's.
" I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have shown me a kindness that cannot be repaid and I will do everything I can to aid you in your journeys, " Amalleah professed, looking as if she might cry but no tears fell, likely having been all drained hours prior. A great weariness over-took Draev then, the hours of the day catching up with him suddenly. Stifling a yawn he gestured to bed.
" You can sleep on the bed, I will fix something up on the floor, " the artificer mumbled groggily. Amalleah shook her head, looking resolute as she slipped from the bed.
" No. I have taken too much from you already, I will not take your place beside your lover as well. I will sleep on the floor. I've endured decades of sleeping on wooden planks for a bed at the abbey so this will be no sacrifice on my part, " she stated firmly, taking the thickest bed sheet and a pillow from the bed top and dragging it over to the floor near the dying hearth, attempting to use both as a form of cover as she did so, face flushed in the dim light of a single candle. Keeping his eyes averted Draev moved over to the side of the bed, tossing the lighter blanket over Saril's naked form before glancing back to see how the maiden blade fared.

Draev's eyes widened considerably as he saw Amalleah's well-rounded ass stuck up in the air as she bent over at the waist, arranging the blanket on the floor. She shifted around, spreading her legs wide as she finished, apparently unaware of Draev's probing eyes. A light cough from Saril broke the spell the other elf's body had on him, Amalleah straightening up suddenly, hands moving to attempt cover her ample rear, flushing even a deeper red than before.
" I, ah, I'm sorry, I'm not used to...being around people. It was...thoughtless of me, " she stammered.
" Uh, no harm done, really, " Draev returned, keeping his eyes squarely on the side of the bed, though Saril's glowering face could be made out from the corner of his vision.
" I-I don't want to...that is to say, I was wondering if you could spare, uh... " the maiden blade went on to say, clearly embarrassed by the situation and subject.
" I can give you something to wear until tomorrow, it's magic in nature so it'll only last so long, " the artificer explained, conjuring up a simple white shift, hoping he had her measurements correct.

Turning her body so that he saw her in a profile view only, one hand attempting to cover both nipples, which in turn caused her plush breasts to bulge against the treatment Amalleah took the shift in her free hand and began to slip it on. Draev waited until he could no longer hear rustling to glance at her again. Thin white material strained against her hips and bosom, the bottom hem rising higher up her legs than he had intended, the excess taken up with covering her full curves. As it was, it was barely adequate and not terribly modest.
" I could conjure something...larger for you, " Draev offered.
" No, no, this is fine, really. Don't trouble yourself, " she countered quickly, tugging at the material, unable to meet his eyes, head turned away. Draev just nodded mutely as she carefully laid herself down, deciding to face the dying embers of the fire, curled up on her side in such a way that the hem was just a finger-width's shy of revealing the bottom curve of her rump. Letting out a calming breath Draev dismissed his own clothing, glancing down to his rapidly stiffening member and then conjured up a pair of loose-fitting pants to cover himself. Like Amalleah's garments, it did a poor job covering up portions of his anatomy. Consciously avoiding Saril's gaze Draev slipped under the thin covers himself and, sharing the lone pillow with his bodyguard, closed his eyes and tried to put the thought of the maiden blade's voluptuous form out of his mind. Moments of silence passed before Saril wriggled slightly, edging her head closer to Draev's ear.
" I hope the next helpless soul that joins our band is a male with a huge cock; it'll be the only time I'll feel safe leaving you around them, " she whispered, exasperated by the situation.
" You know that I never intended for this to happen, " Draev explained quietly, " and a legion of women may pass by my way in the coming years, but I ask you; with whom do I lay every night? "
Saril was quiet for a long moment before she shuffled closer, pressing her face gently against his shoulder.
" I know Draev, I know. I just need to be reminded every once and awhile. "
The artificer reached up and begun to stroke the cursed elf's thick, soft hair, breathing her in scent as he did so and finding after a few minutes, it wasn't so hard to let his thoughts of Amalleah go.
A few minutes more and the sleep that first seemed to elusive found them with ease.

***

Syvana was already on the wing, enjoying the feel of the cool night air slipping beneath her leathery wings as the miles passed by below. There simply was no better way to survey all you owned that to fly above it, every inch of it accessible and visible to your eye, the scope of it filling your vision. Ahead, the tiny winking lights of Volstaani, sparks against the cold blacks and blues of the landscape around it beckoned her. Only humans needed fire to see at night, their handicap broadcasting their location to any hungry predator in the vicinity. As she wove through the air, the hunger upon her as it was every night she reflected upon her past life as a human, and the condition of humanity as a whole. If ever there were a creature meant to be fed upon, it was humanity; no teeth or claws, poor senses, slow runners, and while they congregated in large numbers, only a few knew how to defend themselves. The duchess tucked her wings in close to her furry body, twirling through the air several times before unfurling them again. In spite of its drawbacks she wouldn't trade her worst day as a vampire for her best as a human. As a human you simply wallowed in stimulus, growing desensitized to the nuances of life, letting most of it pass by unnoticed while only gaining a shallow understanding of the parts you did remember and enjoy.

As a vampire, however, the difference in sensations between the hungry and fed states were worlds apart. When do you appreciate the warmth of a fire more than when you are chilled to the bone? When does food taste better when you haven't eaten all day? The contrast between her normal vampiric state and her sated one were night and day, as if a whole new and yet familiar world of sensations and possibilities suddenly opened up before her, to do with as she pleased. Sure, eventually the life energy fades, but there was always the next night, the next victim; and she could do this for millennia if she wished, growing all the more powerful as she aged. It was an existence of endless possibilities, and one she intended to enjoy to its fullest. Volstaani was beneath her now, the bat spiraling downwards in slow, wide loops, black eyes fixing upon one building in particular. It had been two nights since she last supped the blood of the rugged mercenary while he slept. Perhaps he would still be there, or perhaps another would delight her senses while surrendering their blood to her hunger. She would just have to find out.

It was a simple matter to change into her mist form and slip in through the crack that had permitted her entrance the pervious time, the grey wisps rapidly filling out all of her impressive curves once inside the room. Syvana quickly swept her senses over the room, pleased to see that someone new occupied the bed since the last time she was here, but also intrigued by the two others she could clearly see in the dim light. The one that lay by the fire seemed to be a servant, though judging by her body and ill-fitting clothing she probably served more than just her master's domestic needs. Two more lay upon the bed, a handsome man with brown hair and a toned body lay curled up next to a woman with long auburn hair and strong, refined features. She hadn't done it in awhile, but the thought of playing with the two of them at once intrigued her. Syvana took a step closer, frowning as she did so as the number of limbs and number of bodies in the bed didn't add up. Her mind hadn't seized upon that detail until now and she paced quietly to the foot of the bed for a better look.

Syvana had seen some things in her day, but she had never seen a woman who was still breathing and missing that much of her body. The duchess stood there for a long moment, wrapping her mind around the things she was seeing. There were no scars, so it wasn't done surgically to make her the perfect fuck toy, which she certainly would be. There was something more there, though, a faint prickling that seemed to speak to her supernatural senses, prompting Syvana to walk even closer, standing over the elven woman. The duchess could feel a faint magical circuit active on the limbless elf, a self-perpetuating cycle of arcane energy linked to some unknown plane. Fogging the strange woman's mind the duchess reached down and slid her cool, pale fingers over the elf woman's rump, enjoying the feel of the firm flesh beneath her fingers while also analyzing the magical energy found there.

While Syvana's understanding of magic was rudimentary and largely inferred from her years of living in a state of undeath she recognized the magical signature. While the end result was far different the magical curse that affected the elf's limbs was remarkably similar to the curse that kept Syvana a vampire, each relying on taking a part of the subject's body and magically sealing it away somewhere else. For Syvana it was her living essence, tethered like a boat moored at a dock, her life leaving her for some place beyond, but her mind and her thoughts remained in her deathless body. The partaking of blood allowed some of that living essence to slip back into her, giving her the semblance of life, but when the power of the vital fluid waned so did her connection with her old, locked away living essence. It was a metaphysical tug-of-war with blood as the common factor between the two. For the elf it was slightly different, however. Her limbs continued to exist somewhere else, whole and intact, linked to her body by chains of mystic energy; removed, but not permanently, though Syvana knew she could ponder the question for a century without coming up with a solution on how to reunite her lost limbs to the rest of her. She was cursed, though either as a just punishment or as a way to enslave her Syvana knew not.

As tempting as the man looked, laying so peacefully unawares on the bed just feet from her the duchess had found something that intrigued her more than a feeding. This elf was one of the most interesting things to enter into her realm in decades and if she could study her long enough, perhaps some insight into her own existence might be gleaned, maybe a way to strengthen the ties to her life essence to allow her to extend the duration that blood sates her hunger, or maybe even make it permanent! Thrilled by the prospect of such the vampire reached down and slid her hands under the limbless elf, hefting her up like a babe in her arms. Summoning a tiny bit of magic the duchess reached down and slid her fingers over the inner folds of her black cloak, coming away with what appeared to be a fragment of solid shadow. She slid this over the elf's lips, the shadow clinging to them, sealing them together. Releasing the mental hold she had over the elf Syvana instead turned her attentions to the man and the other woman by the fireplace, keeping them slumbering while she set the cursed elf down on the floor and continued to cover her body with the fragments of shadow.

Bereft of the magical fugue it didn't take long for the elf to realize that something was amiss. She squirmed, frowning before her eyes fluttered open, instantly growing wide in fear as they fixed on Syvana's face. A long, muffled cry came from the elf's sealed lips, one which prompted her to squirm, her eyes darting from Syvana's face to the bed beside her, clearly seeking aid from the male still asleep on top of it.
" No one to help you now, I'm afraid, " the duchess assured her with a smile, her voice barely above a whisper, " but do not fear, I have uses for you, and all you need to do is be my guest for a century or two. "
This did nothing to calm the elf, of course, who struggled as well as she could while more and more of her well-muscled flesh was covered over in a dull black sheath. Syvana took her time smoothing it over the elf's breasts and between her cheeks, gliding her fingertips over the inviting folds of the outer vaginal lips and the firm nub of the clitoris. Hmm, perhaps this captive would serve several purposes; an object of study, an easy source of blood and a play toy. The duchess could certainly think of a few things involving herself, the cursed elf and one of her thralls. The elf continued to struggle and grunt valiantly, even when her eyes were covered over. She had the will of a warrior, not a pliant servant: an interesting find indeed.

***

It had taken longer than Victor had wanted it to, nearly half an hour, but finally a tiny crevice was revealed to him and he slowly trickled his vaporous form through it. He was nearly blind as he did this, able to sense only the lingering heat of a fire and that of a living body in the room before enough of him had slipped through that he could once again take physical form. When he did he was instantly alert, taking in the details of the room with his sharp senses in a matter of seconds. It was a smaller room, with the bed set in the middle of the wall opposite the hearth, a night stand on one side, a small writing desk and stool on the other. The only other furnishings consisted of a wash stand topped with a ceramic basin and jug set near the shut yet unbarred door, and a stiff-backed chair set against the wall near the bed. It was upon this chair that the lone occupant of the room had hung his clothes, and, most important to Victor, the gleaming silver sword that he had been sent to retrieve. It would be child's play to slay the aged human and take the sword, smashing his way out through the barred window and taking off into the night, delivering the damnable blade to the craven priest Alexei and permitting his revenge to go forward after decades of planning.

Rolling his fingers and grinning in the anticipation of the kill Victor took a stride forward, completely taken aback when the apparently slumbering human tossed aside the bed sheets and leapt to his feet and snatched up his blade in a single motion. A second later the rapier was drawn with a keen ring of steel, a very alert and ready artificer now standing before the vampire. Victor's smile grew bigger, curling upwards to show his elongated fangs, eyes blood-red and crazed.
" So, even those of you so close to death already aren't willing to give up the ghost so easily. Fine. I can appreciate your bravery, even though it is impossible for you to defeat me. You will at least make this entertaining," he boasted, his fingernails growing several inches in length and hardening to the consistency of steel.
" I've bested monsters the likes of you before, but by all means, underestimate me all you wish, " the human countered with a frown, dressed only in a long night shirt, already in a fencing stance, body taut and ready.
" Don't bother calling for help. I don't like being disturbed while I go about my business and have warded the room with a silence spell. Nothing we do in here will carry outside the confines of this room, " Victor warned, suddenly dashing forward, right hand extended with his fingers splayed. He drew blood and tore cloth, but only a shallow cut along the old man's arm, while the rapier's tip quivered and darted, several inches of magical steel burying itself into the vampire's left thigh. Both combatants retreated, mildly injured from their first foray, sizing each other up once more.

While Victor felt his temper flare from having the human dare to injure him he kept it in check. He didn't get to where he was by surrendering to his base desires to charge blindly and savagely into a situation. Time was on the vampire's side; eventually the elder human's body would begin to tire, while his deathless body could fight until the sun rose and never slow. Victor paced back and forth like a caged animal, looking for his opening, eyes boring into the old artificer, white teeth promising a swift and bloody end. Sensing a weakness in the old man's defenses the vampire suddenly lunged forward, looking to rake his claws across the vulnerable throat, but a second too late he realized he was being baited, the rapier already on an intercepting path, piercing clean through Victor's palm and eliciting a pained roar from the furious undead.

Jerking his injured hand back and cradling it with his left Victor growled like a cornered dog, feeling the beast within him straining to break free, a struggle not helped by the slight smirk on the artificer's face. His guard was too strong, and with superior reach it was Victor that was at a disadvantage. Despite his boasting that time was on his side there was the possibility of this wretched human injuring him enough to force him to leave, likely taking away his only chance to retrieve the sword...the old man would be a fool to remain alone after tonight, and would likely have wards and more men ready in case of a second attempt. The vampire glanced around the room, looking for some way to tip the balance in his favor...and he found it. While his mind was alert and his reflexes sharp his human body was still frail, Victor would simply strike at him with something a narrow blade like a rapier could not turn away.

Swiftly he dashed over to where the writing desk stood and seized the stool there, hoisting it up as if it were no heavier than a piece of straw. The smirk vanished from the artificer's mouth then, replaced with a grim frown. Waiting for his moment to strike Victor suddenly threw the stool with speed and force unmatched by all but the mightiest humans. Petrom's dodge was only partially successful, turning aside as the wooden implement struck the wall and shattered, but still receiving a solid blow to his left arm, forcing a grunt of pain from him as he staggered away. Victor began grinning again, hefting up the writing desk over his head. With his silence spell in place he could make as much noise as he wanted and no one would be the wiser. With barely a hint of effort Victor hurled the writing desk at the artificer, the human's only option was to drop to the floor, the suddenness of the impact blasting the air from his lungs as the desk broke apart into several large pieces and landed upon his prone body. Pushing his advantage while the human was dazed Victor seized the side of the bed and pushed it roughly across the floor. Petrom flailed, attempting to get to his feet to leap aside, but instead managed to only get to his knees before the bed slammed into his ribs, pinning him against the wall. Victor chuckled, putting his foot against the bed frame and pushing with a steady pressure, slowly squeezing the trapped human harder and harder, the wood creaking as much as the old man's bones probably were.
" Shall I end it this way? Slowly squeezing the life out of you like a worm beneath my boot? " Victor taunted, getting only a gasp of agony as a reply. " No? I suppose you are right, it lacks the personal touch, " the vampire agreed, pulling the bed aside just enough so that in two quick strides he was beside the staggered artificer.

Hauling the human to his feet Victor's cold hand wrapped tightly around Petrom's throat, granting him only the shallowest of breaths. The rapier that he had still managed to somehow hold onto batted weakly against Victor's side, stopped an instant later by the vampire's other hand, supernaturally strong fingers making it feel as if his thin wrist were held in a steel vice. Victor kept squeezing and twisting the myriad bones located in the wrist until a choking shudder passed through the old man's limp body as the shattered bones ruptured out of the flesh and the sword finally dropped to the floor followed closely by the pattering of blood droplets.
" Surrendering your weapon at last? My thanks to your kindness, you seemed so hell-bent to keep it before. Permit me to repay you by helping you release something else that seems to be troubling you a great deal; this feeble hold you have on the thread of life. "
Petrom Skabara, who had crossed the world twice over and seen a thousand wonders and survived just as many dangers lost consciousness a second later and died not long after that, the flesh around his neck still bearing the imprint of Victor's lethal grip as he was tossed aside as lifeless and limp as a scarecrow. The vampire stooped and picked up the fallen sword, not even taking the time to admire its exquisite workmanship before he returned it to its sheath and, with a few solid blows from his booted foot, leapt out the window to the streets below. Nothing, nothing would keep him from his revenge against the duchess now.

***

Within a few short minutes the elf was completely sealed away and ready to transport. Syvana sent out a psychic trilling, summoning a servant of hers while she scooped up the squirming black bundle and began to walk towards the room's only window. While an inanimate object, even a magical one, would shift with whatever form she desired at the time, a living being could not, so she would need some help in transporting her precious discovery to Drakkenheim. With but a touch of her dark magic and a drop of blood she could bring life to things that were never alive, or twist and warp things that were alive into something far more grotesque...and useful. The gargoyles that fearlessly guarded her castle were an example of the former, while the mutated creature she had summoned to her now was firmly in the latter category.

Standing before the barred and shuttered window Syvana impressed her will against the planks and nails, the man-made barrier beginning to shudder and rattle in response. Black iron nails began to vibrate out of the wood, plinking to the floor below, wooden boards of sturdy oak began to splinter and crack, forming a pile of flinders at the base of the window. The living occupants of the room continued to sleep soundly as the barrier was magically crushed into useless debris, giving Syvana easy access to the outside world. Her servant sent back a high-pitched screech, inaudible to the ears of humans but clear to her enhanced senses, telling her it was close. The duchess paused for a few heartbeats more and then tossed the squirming bundle out the window, where it seemed to hang in the air for a second before beginning to drop to the merciless cobblestones below. A black blur streaked by then, even Syvana's sharp eyes saw little more than a collection of coarse black fur and bat wing as her altered servant dove past the open window and snatched up the bundle in its large claws.

The giant bat pumped its six foot wings to gain altitude, gingerly but firmly clutching the squirming morsel in its hind feet, banking to avoid a church steeple before leveling its flight out, its sight set on the distant castle that was its home. The feral part of its mind screeched at it to toss the meaty prize in its claws forward, to snatch it up in its mouth and swallow it down whole, feeling the wriggling creature pass all the way down to its gullet. But its master would probably kill it for that, so it pushed aside its hunger for now and focused on getting back as quickly as possible so that it may be allowed to hunt.

Syvana watched the mutated bat go, knowing that it was sufficiently fearful of her not to do anything foolish with the elf it gripped in its paws. Her own hunger flared up as well, reminding her of the two that still slumbered in the room, unconscious and vulnerable. Either would make an excellent meal, writhing and moaning weakly beneath her as she licked and sucked what she wanted from their bodies. Despite her mental domination the woman by the fireplace stirred as it suffering from a nightmare, sweat gleaming on her skin, causing her white shift to cling even tighter to the bulges and folds of her young, nubile body. Syvana paced over and crouched down by the fretful woman, her black garments parting to reveal her long, ivory legs that were joined in the middle by a silken triangle of cloth that molded to the shape of her body like it was painted there. She reached down to graze her fingertips across the woman's arm, her bemusement swiftly changing to confused shock as her hand jerked back as if she had been burnt. With a deep gasp the woman awoke, eyes open in an instant and fixing on Svyana's own.
" Get away! " she yelled, panicked, her hand sweeping out and catching the duchess on the knee. Again, the searing pain hit her, the vampire falling gracelessly backwards to land on her ass, mind still trying to assess what magic was at work here.

The woman, her pointed ears revealing her to be another elf, held her hands up fearfully against her bosom, pressing her back against the flagstones of the cold hearth. She screamed again, eyes closed tightly, the sound shattering any concentration Syvana had left on her sleep spell, the man on the bed jerking awake at the sound. It was time to leave.

***

Draev's gut knotted with panic when the unmistakable sound of a woman's scream tore through the veil of sleep that surrounded him. His entire body jerked and snapped taut, raising himself up on his elbows while he rapidly blinked his eyes to see in the dim light. The window was open, no, not open, destroyed, and there was a strange pale woman dressed in a black gown sitting beside the bed, Amalleah fearfully backed against the wall away from her. The woman in black looked over to him, her clearly inhuman eyes holding a mix of confusion and irritation. She hissed at the two of them, her lengthy canine teeth making it abundantly clear with what they were dealing with. In the time it took Draev to blink the busty vampire was on her feet and diving out the window, her trailing skirt flaring up to reveal that she wasn't wearing much underneath it. The artificer's hand slid across the bed beside him, hoping to seize upon warm flesh as his head pivoted around to see if Saril was still alright.

His questing fingers found nothing and his eyes grew wide with fear. Draev frantically tossed the bed sheets aside and then peered over the other side of the bed, hoping perhaps that Saril had merely fallen out of bed during the commotion.
" What is happening, Master? Who...where is Saril?! I cannot sense her! " Daa rapidly spoke to him via telepathy.
" I don't know! " the artificer shouted back, on his feet, wondering if he should try and find Saril here or try and slow the fleeing vampire down somehow. In a matter of seconds it became clear that neither would prove fruitful; Saril was nowhere to be seen and the female vampire that had so recently infiltrated his room was lost to the night.
" I had felt her presence while I was asleep, " Amalleah said meekly, clutching her sheet close to her body as if to ward off further evil, " I was suddenly having a nightmare, then she touched my arm and I awoke to see her right beside me. I could sense how...wrong she was on some deep level and I panicked. That's when I screamed. "
" What about Saril? Did she say anything else to you? " Draev pressed, staring at her desperately, hoping for some tiny clue or tidbit of information that he could use to puzzle out where Saril had gone. Amalleah shook her head slowly, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes.
" No, I'm sorry, she only seemed as surprised as I was at seeing me, and my touch seemed to cause her pain. Considering I am a maiden blade it is not surprising I would keep some of my undead slaying power even in this form. "
Draev cursed under his breath, hands balled into fists, feeling so helpless and angry. Amalleah sank back down to the floor to cradle her face in her hands while Daa walked over and laid a sympathetic hand on the artificer's shoulder, her mental voice colored with the same hues of anguish and uncertainty his thoughts were.
" Perhaps someone in the watch knows of this vampire and where she keeps her lair, and let us not forget you have many allies here. I'm sure if you explained what happened to Petrom he would spare no effort in finding her, " the slimbiote offered, trying to bolster Draev's resolve. The artificer nodded. She was right.

Making up his mind to rouse his former teacher immediately Draev barely had the time and fore-thought to conjure a loose-fitting shirt for himself to wear before there was a sharp, demanding knock on the door. Draev opened it immediately, finding himself faced with three artificers, two of them armed, looking past him into the room behind him, pensive looks upon their faces.
" We heard a scream? Is your room still secure? " one asked, eyes growing wide as he caught a glimpse of the torn open window.
" As you can see, no. A vampire forced her way in here and abducted my bodyguard. I was just about to enlist Skabara's aid in this. Keep watch over the window to make sure nothing else unsavory finds its way inside and notify the inn keeper that we'll need to board it up as soon as possible, " Draev instructed hurriedly, pushing pass them and quickly walking bare-foot to Petrom's door. He rapped upon the door hurriedly, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot anxiously while waiting for a response on the other side. For what felt like minutes but was probably closer to a handful of seconds he waited before knocking again, this time adding his voice to his urgent plea for a response.
" Petrom! I hate to bother you but I need to speak with you at once! "
Draev counted out the seconds as he waited, pressing his ear against the door to hear if his entreaties had been heard. Half a minute passed and not a peep from within, while outside more of the inn residents had been roused and milled about discussing the situation. The innkeeper shuffled up the stairs, pressing his way through the crowd with a number of planks under his arm and a hammer in hand, telling the gawkers to make way. Draev felt a twinge of sympathy for Amalleah, still wearing only her clingy shift with all these strangers around-completely ignoring the fact as well that no one saw her enter and yet there she stood-but Saril's safety was still the artificer's primary concern.

Frustrated, Draev tried the door handle, finding it to be unbarred. There were no true locks, only a metal latch on all the doors for added privacy and to prevent entry by drunken patrons looking for their own room. The instant Draev saw a splinter of shaped wood on the floor he knew something was amiss. His eyes quickly and fearfully swept over the destruction to be found in the room, finding Petrom's unmoving form lying amongst it. Clambering swiftly over broken furniture Draev crouched beside his former teacher, his heart turning to lead in his chest as he noticed the angle of the elder artificer's head, the deep crimson finger grooves pressed into the flesh of his thin neck. Draev's head spun and he collapsed back against the angled bed, trying to deal with this new tragedy on top of what had already happened. His former teacher was dead, brutally throttled in his own room without anyone taking notice while his own had been broken into and Saril abducted while he slept just inches from her, only Amalleah's pure, cursed body enough to catch the vampire off-guard. Had they been perpetrated by the same vampress? Why slay Petrom and leave Draev unharmed? Grief clutched his throat with its dry fingers, Draev pressing the heel of his hands against his temples, trying to think rationally through the maelstrom of confusion and sorrow.

His tear-blurred eyes passed over where a chair leaned up against the wall, obviously pushed there while the rest of the furniture was being moved around and smashed. Petrom's garments hung there, and yet his sword, the blade that would have warned him of approaching danger was absent. Having carried it for so many years Draev doubted it would have been anywhere in the room but within arm's reach of the bed. A cursory glance under the bed revealed nothing. Had it been stolen? Only the most brutal and heartless thug would murder a sleeping man when they could just as easily filch something with no one being the wiser, and the average thug would not have access to whatever enchantment was used to keep all the smashing furniture and combat that undoubtedly marked the last moments of Petrom's life. Was this female vampire a thief then coming to where the artificers fresh from the field stayed to pilfer their looted goods? Was she angry that the old tombs were being raided and decided to take her revenge on them, stopped only when her rampage was discovered by Amalleah? Why then, would she steal something that hadn't come from this land when she killed Petrom? There were too many pieces to fit together now; he needed to inform his fellow guild mates of their overseer's death and come to grips with his own grief before anything would make sense.

***

Victor smirked as the two sentries posted on the inside of the portcullis jumped as he slipped from the shadows to stand in the pool of lamplight just in front of the iron barrier barring the way into the keep the Shining Dawn used as a base of operations.
" I have what your leader demanded. Open up and prepare yourselves for tomorrow night and the greatest victory your sorry order has ever borne witness to, " the vampire grinned, letting the sword in his hand catch a bit of the light and glint brilliant silver against the dark folds of his silk attire. Both of them scowled, exchanging glances before one trudged unhurriedly over and turned the crank that lifted the portcullis.
" Good dogs. Sit, stay, " Victor said patronizingly as he shouldered past the two of them, chuckling at their attempt to redeem their pride by spitting on the ground and muttering between themselves.

Victor slipped down a hall and passed sleeping quarters and armories, the whole time feeling the repressive wards set against the undead like him like an itch he couldn't scratch. Lesser undead like zombies would mill around uncertain, their hunger for flesh warring with the instinctual fear of the holy wards while ghouls would have just enough drive to throw themselves through the wards and promptly burst into golden flames, their writhing bodies turning to ash in a matter of seconds. Young vampires would fare little better, smoldering and screaming in tremendous pain. Victor considered himself fortunate to be as old as he was when he finally approached Alexei with the offer of aid. Any less powerful than he was and the stress would have been most telling, giving the human the advantage in negotiations. Victor hated it within the confines of the warded keep, but he could endure, and would, until the trap was sprung and his dearest duchess was at his mercy.

His feet carried him swiftly to his destination, not even bothering to knock, simply flinging the door aside and striding into Alexei's study. A look of distain crossed Victor's eyes as he realized the mercenary leader had been asleep at his desk, starting awake at the vampire's unannounced arrival. To think he was forced to make deals with men like him to further his own goals...but not for much longer.
" Victor! I would suspect better manners from one with clothes as rich as yours, but the actions of a petulant child suits you somehow, " Alexei huffed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with forefinger and thumb.
" I have your metal security blanket, now maybe you'll act like the soldier you pretend to be and seize the glory I'm offering you, " the vampire returned, slipping the rapier out from under his cloak and tossing it roughly at Alexei. The mercenary barely managed to intercept the thrown weapon, catching it inches from his face, his eyes swiftly running up and down the length of the weapon, a deep scowl forming.
" You brain-dead simpleton! This is not the weapon I sent you out to get! This is not Amalleah! " Alexei bellowed, slamming the weapon down on the desk. Victor's face dropped, momentarily speechless, looking from Alexei to the weapon on the table. The confusion didn't last long, however, quickly becoming rage as the vampire dashed forward suddenly, tossing aside the table and spilling its contents onto the floor with frightening ease. Alexei reached for his holy symbol but it was seized halfway to its target, Victor's other hand tightly gripping the mercenary's throat. " I've already squeezed the life out of one old fool tonight, will you make it two, Alexei? " Victor asked from between clenched teeth, murder in his eyes. The old mercenary's reply was a muted gasp, eyes bulging in distress as his face turned as red as the wine he liked so much. The vampire drew him close, his elongated fangs mere inches from Alexei's face.

" You will command your troops to accompany me tomorrow night when I draw her out and ambush her, and you will not delay me any longer with your petty mortal concerns. Do this, or I'll hang you from a tree by your thumbs and watch as the night wolves slowly work their way up your body, watching as you disappear into their maws one...bloody...chunk...at a time, " Victor promised, enunciating each word with hissing malice. Alexei's only response was a weak nod, to which Victor kept the pressure on his neck for one moment longer and then released him, the mercenary collapsing to the floor, choking and wheezing.
" Tomorrow night, eight bells. Be there with however many you think are needed to deal with one such as her, and I'll be watching Alexei. Try and double cross me and I'll lead her right to you, and you'll wish I'd killed you. "
Victor didn't wait for a response, instead walking quickly from the room, shoving aside the men who had come to investigate the noise and striding through the halls and out of the keep, glad to be rid of the den of fools. After centuries of nursing his wounded pride and plotting and scheming Victor would only have to wait one more night for satisfaction.

***

While the mutated bat servant had a considerable lead on her, it was Syvana who arrived first at Drakkenheim, flying in through a window on the second level of the castle which opened on its own to admit her. Shifting from bat to her human form with a flurry of wing and limb she turned to look out into the night, awaiting the arrival of her servant and its precious cargo. With a keening screech inaudible to the normal human ear the great winged form took shape out amongst the pitch skies and with a sharp bank, tossed the shadow-covered elf at Syvana before winging its way south. The female vampire snatched the living package neatly out of the air, cradling its wiggling form against her large, pale breasts.
" Shush now, little elf, your journey is over. You are safe in my castle now; nothing will harm you as long as I wish it so, " the vampress explained as she walked over to a massive four-poster bed carved of oak and stained nearly black, laden with lush vermillion pillows and sheets sewn with golden thread. The cursed elf continued to strain and inadvertently rub her body against Syvana's bosom, enflaming both her hunger and her lust, pale pink lips quivering as she fought to keep them both in check.

The vampress lightly tossed the elf onto the bed, studying the way her breasts wobbling freely and the play of her well-defined muscles underneath the oil-black sheath she was trapped within. Syvana bit down on her index finger in an effort to restrain her desire as she watched, groaning lightly as the elf arced her back and clenched her firm rump trying to force her way clear of her skin-tight prison. Unable to help herself any longer the duchess paced forward and, bending slowly at the waist, gently nuzzled her face into the elf's crotch, causing a squeak and a body-wide spasm from the limbless woman. Chuckling lightly Syvana reached forward with her hands and gently grasped the elf's hips, squeezing the rounded flesh there while rubbing her nose, lips and chin all along the delightfully warm and soft folds the elf's body possessed. A long, cool tongue slid along the cleft of Saril's labia, leaving a glistening trail of moisture as it moved, exploring her femininity with one long muscular stroke. The elf shuddered and grunted, trying to use her head and neck to pull away, but to no avail.

Dissatisfied with the layer between her and her prey, no matter how thin, Syvana weakened the sheath enough that the lightest brush caused cracks to appear along the magically-thickened shadows, the vampress wasting no time in revealing the elf's crotch in all its blood-rich glory. The elf struggled, genuinely wishing to get away, but her body unconsciously responded to the sensuous treatment; her heart began to beat faster, sending more blood coursing down to her nether regions until to the duchess's enhanced eyesight they practically glowed with heat. Again her tongue slid along the plump track in the middle of the elf's hips, this time coming away with the intimate tang of her bodily juices and the unadulterated lushness of her bare skin. So much better.

Syvana paused then, frowning as she found the height of the bed to be awkward in her current pose. Too high to kneel, too low to stand, so Syvana compromised; spreading her long legs wide she sunk her body down, only having to arc her back slightly in order to reach the perfect height for continue her amorous assault. She felt the open slit of her gown slide away from her bare leg as she did so, far enough to reveal a good portion of her right buttock as well, but there was no one she feared seeing her in such a compromising position. The matter of comfort settled she resumed her licking, the elf's nether regions soaked with her rapidly warming saliva before deciding she had restrained herself from what she truly wanted long enough.

Gliding her fangs along both sides of the elf's smooth labia Syvana gently pressed a single tooth against the flawless skin until, with a whimper and a shudder form the elf, it pierced the skin, rich red blood beginning to well up from the tiny incision. Syvana attacked with a hunger that surprised even her, her tongue lapping at the wound, but also lashing pleasurably against her captive's clit and inner lips until the entire area was awash in a mixture of saliva, blood and the elf's own arousal. Saril's struggles weakened as her focus was stolen away, what were once strong, deliberate motions becoming reactive twitches, her sealed lips vibrating as a symphony of mews, grunts and gasps unsuccessfully attempted to escape the shadow sheath.

As the cocktail of fluids made their way down her throat their effect on her vampiric physiology was pronounced and immediate. While not nearly as satisfying as a male's offering Syvana nevertheless felt warmth and color spread rapidly through her chilled limbs, offering new levels of delight to what was already a heady experience. Through the euphoric haze of her needy tonguing she detected the nearly-silent footsteps of one of her thralls approaching. Whoever it was, they were in for a sight. She heard the footfalls stop, the quiet gasp as he absorbed the sight of his mistress bent over in such a position of silent invitation. Using her arms to raise herself up Syvana let out a throaty chuckle as she licked her lips with a slow, thorough circuit of her tongue. Glancing back she saw Edward standing stock-still, a look of utter surprise on his boyish face, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into a pleased smile.
" I-I thought I heard you enter. I was coming to inquire as to...how... " the poet vampire begun, the words dying in his eloquent throat as Syvana shifted her hips slightly, revealing more of her barely-clad posterior to his hungry eyes.
" Everything is going splendidly, my dear Edward, " the duchess replied, rising smoothly to an upright position, gown falling back into it usual duty of hugging her curves. She swayed slowly towards him, reveling in the life energy flowing through her and the naked admiration displayed so clearly on the face of the male vampire before her. She leaned in close for a kiss when she came to a stop beside him, opting instead to flick her tongue lightly over his lips, leaving a lingering taste of what she had so recently been enjoying upon them.
" Be a dear and clean her up and make her comfortable. She will be our guest for some time to come, " the duchess purred, glancing back at the helpless elf on the bed, " though I'll leave how you do this to your own imagination, " Syvana finished with a wink and a coy smirk, trailing her hand over his shoulder as she left the room. Edward watched her leave, tongue slipping out to daub tenderly at the lingering tastes deposited on his mouth and then glancing over at the heaving bosom of the strange, limbless woman that had been left in his care. Long, gleaming fangs slipped out over the same lips moments later as he took his first step towards her.

***

" It sounds like the duchess alright, no doubt about that, " a grizzled city watchman admitted, running a hand through his short, thinning hair. More nods followed the statement from his comrades whom had all come to the Crimson Spade the morning after the murder and abduction. Draev's dry, bloodshot eyes flicked from one face to the next, his dead pan expression betraying none of the emotional turmoil he felt.
" Tell me about her, " the artificer prompted, barely glancing back as the shrouded body of Petrom Skabara was carried down the stairs and through the common room, the eyes of every guild member in the place watching it as it passed by.
" She's the reason the whole land's cursed as it is, " another guardsman replied, the heavy scarring, eye patch and missing ear on the left side of his face telling of an encounter with something possessing terrible jaws. " She was the wife of the old duke back before my great grand pappy was even born. The duke died of a weak heart-though most folk's will tell you he was poisoned-leaving her in charge of the duchy. Then this primal vampire, whose name I will not utter, passes through and turns her into a vampire as well, leaving her to turn the duchy into her personal larder and waking up all manner of dark things that man should never have to see. "
" Surely there were attempts to oust her, attack her where she lairs, " Draev asked, a slight frown creasing his brow.
" Surely, " the scarred man agreed with a nod, " and barely a soul returned to tell the tale. Five thousand men lost their lives the first time, but they didn't know what they were fighting, so it's small wonder they didn't succeed. A few more times command of the duchy was promised to which every knight slew her, and a handful tried, errants with their own armies laying siege to the castle, their bodies rotting where they lay on the winding road up to the black gates. "
" What about the Shining Dawn mercenaries, haven't they tried? " Draev implored, growing exasperated at the long list of failed attempts.
" Oh they might have a chance, assuming they could bring their full forces to bear and catch her off-guard, " the first watchman agreed, " but they know there's no gold to be had in dying, and the duchess is no fool. They're content to patrol the streets at night and treat the rest of us like something they scraped off their boot. I don't mind the extra help, and they're good at what they do at least, but they don't have the numbers or the will to face her, especially not in her home. "
The heavily scarred man stood then, prompting his fellows to do the same, chair legs scraping against the wooden floor." I understand you hungering for revenge, and it's a stone cold shame what happened here last night, but if you really can't let this drop I'll direct you to a group of men who have gone out seeking revenge in the past, " he offered, Draev's hopes rising as he heard this.
" Really? They know of a way in? " The watchman shook his head.
" No, they're all buried in the cemetery out the north gate, with nothing but a wooden plank carved with the year they died to mark their empty graves. Good day sir, and our sympathies. "

Draev's hands curled into fists as they filed past, feeling as if a cruel joke had just been played on him. Through his frustration he knew deep down, they were right. There were things in this world that bravery and a just cause could not slay, and it would be suicide to try alone. With Skabara dead his already thread-bare relations with the other artificers was torn to shreds. No one would stick their necks out for him, least of all to engage in some crusade that would get them all killed. In the dark mire of hopelessness that his thoughts floundered in he found himself wondering if the Shining Dawn would help him if he returned Amalleah to them. They wouldn't be happy that it was in his possession, but some honeyed words and some gold and he was certain he could work out a deal. The artificer's hand then went up to his face and rubbed his eyes. Would he really sell out a helpless woman whom he had offered sanctuary to gamble with all their lives on such a slim hope? These were idle thoughts born of tiredness, despair and grief, though all the same Draev was glad that Daa was not present to hear them. Perhaps the Shining Dawn would consider his pleas without Amalleah as part of the deal. He had to try.

His feet felt like lead as he ascended the stairs to his room, the weight of the odds stacked against him like an anchor around his neck. Amalleah was pacing nervously, still wearing the form-fitting slip he had conjured for her and nothing else. Daa had remained hidden while the window was repaired and currently sat in her bottle, conserving her strength should Draev need her during the course of the day or night. The tattooed elf looked up sharply at the artificer's arrival, her startlingly blue eyes full of expectation and concern. " Find out anything of use? " she asked, hands clasped before her. Such a small amount of time had passed since they had met and already she had shown as much concern over Saril's welfare as she would have over a sibling. It made the thoughts he had had down in the common room even more shameful to recall.
" No, not really, " came Draev's flat response, closing the door behind him slowly.
" Do you have any plans for getting Saril back? " Amalleah prodded.
" I have two, " the artificer replied, reluctantly meeting her eyes, " the first has almost no chance to succeed; the second, none at all. Even if that is the case, I will need your help, your powers. Will you help me? "
Uncertainty sparked by any number of emotions flickered across her face like a candle in a breeze. Perhaps she heard the desperation in his voice he had hoped to conceal; perhaps she guessed where his thoughts had taken him not minutes before.
" Of course I will. I trust you will use me wisely. I have lost so much already in my life I would not want to lose friends I have only just met, " came her reply, her eyes shining like the sapphires they became when in her sword form. She shifted her weight slightly, scanning his face for reassurance that he wouldn't do something that endangered either one of them, or both. Draev hoped she found it.
" I'm going out to see if I can find some information or allies who may know more about this vampire who took Saril. I'll need you in your sword form to avoid questions about your unusual appearance. Will you do that for me? "
Amalleah's hesitation was brief, but telling.
" Alright, if that is how I would most be able to help you, " she assented, moving over to the bed and easing herself onto it. Draev couldn't help but notice the hem rise up as she lay down flat, the buxom elf trying to pull it down enough so that her smooth nether lips wouldn't show, only partially successful. Her eyes met his one last time before the artificer intoned the magical words " Amal-le-ah ".

The change was as swift as it had been the first time. Instantly a skin that gleamed like quicksilver curled out from behind her and slid over her body, obliterating the view of her naked flesh in a matter of seconds, passing underneath the flimsy night shirt. Her arms had once against been sealed into a single line behind her back as her legs too were sealed inescapably together. All but the finest folds of her skin were visible under the sheath, including the enticing soft V-shape of her crotch. Draev's fingers curled into a loose fist of self-control as he found himself wondering if her body was warm in this form and almost daring enough to find out. She wriggled a bit and emitted a small, questioning noise, a clear message that she was aware of how distracting she was in this position but that Draev should carry on with the full transformation.
" Amal-le-ah, " he repeated, watching as her full set of curves began to shrink and recede, her soft outer curves growing steel-hard and razor sharp. The twin sapphires emerged from the gleaming metal at the same time the runes etched into the fuller appeared, completing the transformation.

Draev walked over and hefted up the blade by the handle, dismissing the now out-of-place slip with a touch. The eyes seemed to shine with an inner light, their facets following him no matter the angle he turned the blade. It was only his imagination. A tremble went up his arm, a brief surge of encouragement from her. Draev held the blade delicately, even though he had seen it cleave through bone and flesh with ease, his mind still trying to reconcile the mighty weapon in his hand with the shy and curvaceous elf it had turned into it.
" Will I be accompanying you in this, Master? " Daa asked, a tendril of black ooze slipping out from the spout of the bottle and twitching in anticipation, " I would be able to tell you if people are telling you the truth in their knowledge about this vampress who has abducted Saril. "
Draev thought on this, wondering if having her along would be a distraction, then realizing just as swiftly the only reason he would be considering leaving her behind.
" Be a chaperone for my darkest thoughts, Daa. I shudder to think what I might consider doing if there were not someone there with me, " the artificer admitted to her mentally, casting his eyes to the floor.
" I have known your thoughts since we first met, Draev the artificer, and while your thoughts are no more or less noble than those of your fellow humans, it is the choices you make on those thoughts that determine what you are. And while you may doubt it, I know you would not betray those who trusted you to further your own goals, no matter how dire or well-intentioned, " the slimbiote said in a deep, yet oddly genderless tone, referring to him by his true name for the first time since they had introduced one another two years ago. This was Daa the slimbiote, not Daa the servant as she chose to appear to better suit his tastes. It was a sobering moment as the artificer watched the inky pool of liquid slither across the floor towards him, reminding him that the intelligent slime's thoughts were no less complex than his own despite her relative youth and normally passive nature.

" I assume you'd like a little reminder of my usual voice before we get intimate with one another, " Daa mused in her female, sing-song voice as she began to slip up over his boot and slide up his leg under the cuff of his trousers. It felt like slightly cool wax was being poured over his skin as she spread herself over the leg and slipped several thick tendrils across his manhood to begin spreading over his other leg, drawing an immediate reaction.
" Tsk tsk, Master, you know I only did that to spread myself evenly over your body, there's nothing sensual about it, " the slimbiote chided him sweetly as a tendril slithered between his legs. The artificer's body went rigid, feeling her smooth, almost silken form cover over his hips, cradling his genitals and clinging tightly to his ass like the possessive hands of a lover. She continued to flow upwards, undulating slightly as she covered over the bumps and ridges of his torso, stopping around his collar bones and spreading out to the arms, covering them over in an ebony sheath and stopping an inch away from the cuffs on Draev's shirt, hiding her presence from all but the one who wore her.

Draev shifted about, feeling as if he were wearing a body-suit of finest doeskin underneath his other clothes, one that fit him far better than even the most expert leatherworker could possibly fashion.
" Comfy? Not too tight anywhere? " the slimbiote asked, shifting the part covering his balls like a set of fingers rolling them along.
" It's fine, Daa, really. It's just been awhile since we've been together like this, " he said between teeth clenched in unease. It was odd, conflicting feeling completely at the mercy of something you nonetheless trusted completely.
" Let's go, " the artificer announced quietly to no one in particular, slipping Amalleah into a micro-dimensional pocket and opening the door to the room.

It didn't take long to find where the Shining Dawn resided, all in Volstaani knew of them by reputation at the very least, though their actions had garnered them little more than an indifferent respect. They were mercenaries who cared only for the city's coin, not its people seemed to be the general consensus based on what Draev heard and Daa felt. The artificer stood before the high walls of the keep, feeling as if he were about to lay siege to it. The portcullis was closed, two mercenaries standing just inside the gate, leaning against opposite walls while they talked to keep the dullness of their duty at bay. Draev paused just outside the metal grating, scraping his boots on the cobbles purposefully and clearing his throat. Both men swiveled their gazes disinterestedly towards him, and, after neither made any attempted to speak, Draev initiated the conversation.
" Good day. I wish to speak with your commander. Is he available? "
" And I wish for a castle in the clouds staffed with naked angels, " one of the pair snorted, " but I don't think either of us are going to get it. "
Draev reached down to the pouch at his left hip, retrieving something that clinked lightly. A single gold coin tumbled through the air, landing with a fine 'ping' on the stone, gleaming as the first rays of the rising sun struck it.
" My apologies for my clumsiness, " the artificer said flatly, " it seems I am in a bit of a predicament. Hurt my back the other day, " he explained, patting the small of his back with the palm of his left hand, " and can't bend down to retrieve it. I suppose it will have to remain there until some fortunate soul picks it up. "
The pair of guards looked at one another, gauging how the other would react so that they wouldn't be the first to cave to temptation. Draev's eyes flicked from man-to-man, another coin landing beside its fellow.
" Oops. "
" The commander's not in a mood to be disturbed today, " the other said, tracing the tip of his tongue over his lips as he gazed down at the coin mere inches from the toe of his scuffed boots.
" Let me bear the brunt of his mood. You both performed your duties, but I insisted. I had a plausible story; one you thought would benefit the whole organization. You're both in the clear and a coin richer for but a moment's effort, " Draev offered with a roll of his shoulders, " I wish I could make money that easily. "
Again, the pair exchanged glances, both scanning the courtyard to make sure they weren't being watched and, making like they were dusting something off their boots, retrieved the coins. The portcullis began to rise seconds later, Draev ducking under with a brief nod of farewell to them both before heading to the open doorway he had seen from the street.

He passed several more mercenaries in the keep, pausing only long enough to get directions to their commander's office, which they provided reluctantly, eyeing him with suspicion. Draev thanked them and parted ways, quickly putting himself out of their minds so that they could easier dismiss his presence and get back to their former duties. Lessening personal accountability was a powerful lubricant to the many anonymous gears that ran an organization. There was barely enough time to formulate any sort of scheme before the artificer stood before the commander's door, hand hovering near the door, ready to knock.
" Do it for Saril. We have to try and I'll help in any way I can, " Daa urged him, giving the ooze covering his right wrist a subtle urging forward. His knuckles rapped thrice, the sullen voice responding from within barely audible.
" I said I was not to be disturbed this day. Leave now and I won't have you executed with your own sword. "
Draev tested the door handle, finding it unbarred and pushed it open, stepping within and quickly closing it behind him.
" You are treading upon my last shred of patience.... " the voice, clearer now, warned, stopping when he noticed who had entered. " Who the devil are you? "

Draev took in the bald head, growing collection of wrinkles and hard, flinty eyes as signs of a man under constant pressure and with prospects not looking up, likely still smarting from all the casualties he incurred several days ago. He was a man whose temper would be short and wrath lethal. The feature that stuck the artificer as odd, however, were the ugly yellow-brown bruises marking the sagging skin around the man's neck. A physical altercation here, in his inner sanctum? The artificer didn't mince words, opening a pocket dimension and retrieving a sack from within, tossing it towards the desk where it struck with a considerable thud and slid before stopping just inches from the man's chest. Good-bye travel money.
" The duchess. Dead. How much? " the artificer asked in clipped words, crossing his arms and meeting the mercenary leaders gaze squarely. The man seemed at a bit of a loss at first, eyes sweeping over the bag and then Draev with equal scrutiny.
" We are under contract with King Wernchilde and cannot spare the men to... " he began before another sack landed on the table beside the first one. Good-bye emergency funds. " The duchess, dead. How much more? "
The amount of gold set before him gave the man pause, his thoughts no less motivated by greed than the pair of guards at the gate.
" You seem a man of some conviction in this matter, " the mercenary leader remarked, his tone relaxing.
" Mention of the duchess has opened up thoughts that were already loosened with wine. He had plans in motion and is now wondering how much gold he can get from you before assenting to do something he was already going to do, " Daa warned.
" The duchess is a being of unfathomable evil and considerable power. The risk to my men would be great, and the potential for loss equally so. I don't know if I can afford to take up your request at this time, " the older man added, " how much is your revenge worth? "
" Anything else? " Draev telepathically asked the slimbiote as he reached into another micro dimension and pulled out a polished wooden box that contained an assortment of jewelry, holding it open to display its contents and then setting it down on the desk as well.
" Yes, it will be soon...this very night! There's something else, a partnership with someone he hates, one who demanded the same as you. Dark, evil, can't get a full idea, he doesn't like thinking about this other person. Still, if he's planning to do this thing already, you won't have to pay him a silver for his aid, " the slimbiote explained.
" But if I just up and leave without explanation right now he may suspect something and find a nice, cozy dungeon cell for me to sit in until he figures out what my angle is, " Draev countered, twisting his lips in thought.

" Hmm, I could, perhaps arrange something, " Alexei offered slowly, eyes gleaming as bright as the gems exposed on their bed of purple velvet within the jewel case. The artificer made a snap decision then, hoping he wouldn't be tempting the fates too much with his unexpected about-face.
" Could you? Even though you had, as you said, an existing contract with this land's king? One which charged you with the protection of Volstaani and its environs, not lending out your dwindling manpower to any grief-crazed artificer looking for revenge who puts a pile of gold under your nose? " Draev asked, his words becoming heated and accusing, his expression dark with anger. The change was clear on the captain's face as well, the muscles slackening to an expression of confused wariness.
" I am an agent of the king sent to see if you were keeping true to the stipulations of the contact, not line your own pockets at every opportunity regardless of the consequences. After that disaster outside the city with the ghouls there have been some murmurs of discontent amongst the king's councilors, wondering if you truly the right man for the job. It seems their fears are well-founded, " Draev bluffed, walking up to the desk and shoveling away the gold-heavy bags and wooden case into their respective micro-dimensions.
" Now see here! " Alexei bellowed, rising from his chair with a harsh scrape of wood on stone, " those men died eliminating a grievous threat to the city's eastern road! If anything I should be demanding more money for taking such dangerous and proactive measures to ensure the continued safety of this death maze you call a city. "
" More money?! " the artificer raged, " the king was more than generous with the terms of the contract. For the same amount we could have hired three times the Shining Dawn's number of regular mercenaries and outfitted each with silver weapons and holy water! "
" Regular mercenaries? Like there aren't enough dead fools in this land, " the captain snorted, flopping back down into his seat. " Only the Shining Dawn has the resources and the expertise necessary to do the job, and do the job we shall. You can tell that to your 'councilors'. "
Draev opened his mouth to say more, just snapped it shut. He had played his role to the hilt, and now it was time for a barely satisfied agent of the king to leave.
" We'll be watching, captain. Do not think because the king is occupied with consolidating support in these politically unstable times that he does not keep tabs on other affairs throughout the kingdom, " Draev warned, turning to leave but pausing as he flung the door open. " Oh, and for the price of two gold coins I was able to slip past your defenses and reach you unopposed. Such sloppy discipline does not invoke confidence from the throne, " he finished.
" I'll see those responsible whipped, never fear, " Alexei promised with a scowl and a single nod.
With that assurance Draev slipped through the doorway and slammed it behind him, stomping off down the hall.

Once past the portcullis and back on the street Draev let out a long breath of relief and tried to slow his hammering heart.
" Well played, Master. It appears you've managed to come out of that with your finances and hide intact, " Daa congratulated him with a giggle.
" I'm certain I just shaved a few years off my life with that stunt. Let us hope he remains sufficiently distracted with his duties to not look too deeply into my presence in the city, " the artificer admitted, his feet already taking him back to the relative calm of the Crimson Spade.
" So what next? " the intelligent slime asked, massaging Draev's shoulders and back as he walked.
" Next, you and I are going to get some rest. Tonight, we are going to find out where this attack is going to take place, and, if it is successful, we make for Drakkenheim. I don't suspect it will be completely unguarded, but with help from both you and Amalleah, I should be able to locate and rescue Saril from that place, " he explained.
" And if the duchess kills them all? " Daa queried tentatively, pausing in her massaging.
" Then I can only hope she will be injured or distracted enough that we'll be able to slip in and do the same, " Draev admitted with a heavy sigh, " I can only hope. "