It was almost dusk. The sun has set somewhere far behind clouds, beyond the western horizon, and it was quickly getting colder. The brisk wind blew leaves, yellow, orange, crimson and brown with the oncoming autumn, tumbling down a backstreet. They got caught in piles of rubbish, and rustled loudly as another gust of wind violently shook them, yanking them from the places where they were stuck. The dark clouds, foreshadowing the coming of rain, had a blue tint of the early evening.
It was suspiciously quiet for a Friday evening, but at this time of the year, few people wandered through the street instead of hiding from the wind, cold and rain in the shelter of taverns, shops and houses. From those, loud and lively noise was escaping into the empty streets, the noise of laughter, speech, music and thudding dishes, noise of steps and moves, noise which definitely belonged to people. Smoke was rising from chimneys and tight gaps in the doors and windows, starting to light up with the shine of candles.
With a despising look, Aldanith walked around one of the taverns. He was tired of them - if he wanted wine, he could just as well get it himself without bothering with the filth that so proudly called themselves humanity. Just dirt on his shoes... They were only a waste of his time, that's something he was convinced about. Not worth his concern with their petty, shallow troubles, the fights they caused and the concerns they moaned about. He was above that... He didn't need them. He didn't need anybody but himself.
His steps were as silent as the wind, despite the hard steel that the tips of his boots were hiding, and the number of chains and reins, securing the plates of iron and hardened leather on his lean body. He walked forth with long, confident and proud steps, carrying his head high, but still wary, hiding in the shadows and passing unnoticed around the occasional person in the doorway, or rushing to escape the night.
He didn't try to run away from the dark. Darkness his home, shielding him from the curious eyes of those that may despise his actions. Darkness was his lover, welcoming him in its embrace after every fall, and let him rise again. And darkness was his weapon, a deadly tool of destruction in his hands, ready to be used by him when he'd call.
Turning into a backstreet, he passed piles of dirt, scattered on the tiles. He scowled at a child, peering out of the window, which immediately hid after his ice-cold eyes pierced it, and continued walking in a steady pace. He was grateful for the coming of the night. The day was unnecessarily bright, attracting eyes and ears which would be better off not poking their noses into his affairs, if they prize their petty lives - because he doesn't. And to him, one or five dead bodies made no difference.
The path was getting narrower and narrower, until it led him to a shabby house, leaning into the street. A dirty staircase led to a door below the street level. The sound of metal, clinking on metal, reached his keen ears as he laid his right hand on the rail that lined the stairs. As he pressed his hands onto the door, it creaked silently, and opened to a tight gap through which he squeezed into the chamber beneath.
It was as majestic as the entrance was poor and filthy. It was a lobby, covered in thick rugs and tapestries, hanging from the walls, and by the sides was exquisite furniture. His expression, gloomy even before, became even more grim as he remembered his own chambers, so similar to this. The wealth was far too visible, and his attitude about it wasn't too good. Gold was just another concern of mortal fools that he despised. He felt no hunger for it any longer. It was just more dirt. He wasn't in for the gold... He was in for the blood. For the thrill of killing. Off course, it helped him survive, but many other things would.
He wanted to see death.
As he straightened his back in the middle of the room, the black hood sled off his white hair, revealing the numerous braids and chains he had in it, falling into his face. Now, he had to wait. He wasn't alone in this job - his companion was supposed to come soon, and only then their employer would give them details about their jobs. Aldanith wasn't looking forwards to the idea of working with someone else, but the situation required it, and he kept his calm, collected face despite that.
He was in only for the kill, nothing else was his concern...
He was cloaked in darkness, sitting on the nearest roof that overlooked the shack where the shadowed figure walked. The streets were not as brightly lit, for it was only just now turning evening. But the cross between daylight and darkness didn't hinder his vision as it honed in on his target below. It sauntered confidently, almost boastingly and his eyes narrowed at the sight of it. So this was the one, huh?
The one he was to work with. Aldanith by the information he was given, though very little else was known. There was reputation of course, but Vandryn knew better than to put more stock than he had to in anything passed on by word of mouth. His lips turned wicked and the shadowed image within his mind grinned along with him though for reasons one could never be sure.
But the grin quickly faded when he watched the figure move into the entrance below, the metal scraping echoing loudly through the air. His breath came in a soft cloud that dissipated with the cold air after forming. The anticipation had gone on long enough. He supposed he shouldn't be one to make them wait much longer.
Their employer didn't say much about himself. That was all well and good. Vandryn didn't need to know more than he had to, to complete a task. And the fact that this job in particular would need more than one 'agent' was the only thing that struck him as strange. Of course, he worked alone, and he assumed just as much about that Aldanith character, save for a few unsavory parts about him. He didn't reveal much more about himself, save that he called himself Victor Krieger, identified as a minor lord in the south of Ravensway, and sought the help of the best in retrieving a rather dangerous item from a group of even more dangerous cultists, their name so far unmentioned.
Vandryn slipped down from the roof and leapt across with ease to the top of the shack, finding the smoke slate open in that area and slipping through the rafter, leaving no sign of his passing. Soon he was sitting above the revealed shape of Aldanith on ground level. Vandryn's eyes narrowed further, observing the white hair of a drow. A small throwing knife played between his fingers as he dangled his legs over the edge of the rafter and ran a nail along the edge of it, a sharp – zhiing – ringing in the air.
"Took you long enough," he said at last, peering down at him.
"You were up there all along, weren't you?" Aldanith said silently, peering at the other dark elf behind him with his cold eyes. His voice was very quiet, but as sharp as the tip of the knife in Vandryn's hands.
His eyes crossed the figure that appeared before him. He was scarred, very scarred, but Aldanith didn't ask any questions - he himself, missing almost all of his left arm and half of right hand, wasn't one to judge. Appearances were so shallow after all.
He softly laid his hands down onto the mask that covered all of the upper half of his face, revealing only his thin lips, the tip of his straight nose, and his bright eyes, and gracefully took it off. The features beneath were fair, elegant, so unfitting for the cold, cruel personality of their owner. He bowed his head in a greeting, but it was a proud gesture, showing very little but cold respect.
He wasn't told much about Vandryn, and that was alright. Too much information would only bore him, anyway... He wasn't one for idle talk. He was there for blood.
The coming of their employer pulled him from his thoughts, but he masked surprise with the same elegance and cold grace as he showed before. The man was remarkably shorter than himself, garbed in a dark blue robe, his head framed in a circle of loose black curls, and a slightly unkempt stubble on his pale skin stood out. He had pale eyes, not too striking, or unusual.
Aldanith gave him a similar bow of his head, holding the mask by his chest. Candlelight glinted dimly on his armour and two last fingers of his right hand.
Vandryn rolled backwards off the rafter and sheathed the knife back into his belt. It seemed they were all here for the arrangement. So far so smooth, as was to be expected. It wasn't the matter of starting a job that turned bumpy, it was usually the object of finishing it. But Vandryn always saw it through, he hadn't had a failure yet, and he wasn't about to start now.
Despite his cool exterior, his body language showed that Aldanith had a habit for surprise, even if they were subtle ones. All was well, that that wouldn't be factored in his favor. Then again, nobody could be prepared for everything. No matter how hard they tried. His eyes lingered on the man as he entered, and he said nothing as he closed the door behind him.
"I am glad you all found this place in one piece. I was beginning to worry," Victor greeted them and bowed his head to the pair of elves before him. "Victor Krieger," he said, introducing himself to Aldanith, though he didn't extend his hand. "If you both received my notes, then you both know why I'm here. The Raven's Eye. That is what I've hired both of you to retrieve. Perhaps the less you know about it the better, this is more than dangerous, not only for me but. Let's just say, I'm not hiring the best to invite you both to tea. The cult you are facing are not known for their friendliness toward outsiders, particularly those that are trying to steal one of their most sacred relics. But...if you succeed, you both will be paid handsomely for it."
Aldanith accepted his greeting coldly, without moving a finger, as he was already aware of the man's name. He even took the time to find some things about him... Though he didn't seem to be known in the underground and dark circles, he found out that he was a merchant and minor noble. At least something useful...
And he also knew of the relic. It would send a chill down the spine of his younger self, but now, he didn't flicker at all the myths and rumors about the Raven's Eye. He was confident in his ability to take good care of things such as that, and to keep everything at the highest safety. He knew more than it would seem, and was aware of the dangers of the relic.
At the word 'pay', he winged off. It was a hardly visible move, only a mere moment between returning to his usual cool and collected expression, but it showed his disgust at something as lowly as gold. He didn't need it. He would take it, but he didn't need it. He didn't hunger for it any longer, and it was only a reminder of his younger, foolish self. Not something he would be too proud of - he used to hoard it, like a dragon, risk his life and sanity for a pile of precious metals and gems. How worthless!
He didn't ask further about the pay, but the man answered the untold question. "Three hundreds of gold for each one of you, three hundred and fifty if you manage to complete the job in perfect security and safety."
It seemed that he finished talking, but Aldanith stopped him before he would turn around and leave. It appeared odd that he didn't tell them any closer information on the cults - even though he was aware of their nature, he asked nonetheless. "And what about the cultist? You didn't say anything about them." he questioned.
Krieger raised a brow in surprise. It was obviously not a question he would have expected, and Aldanith was beginning to get slightly suspicious about that. With what he knew of the cult, it would be more than natural to explain those circumstances to employed rogues.
Aldanith seemed to be paying attention to the fact of the cultists when Vandryn was still stuck on the offered payment. "Wait a minute," he said, looking Krieger over with looks that could kill. "Three hundred? Is that all? Regardless of what dungeon delving you would have me do, I never work for such a pittance. If that is all you're prepared to lose, then you obviously don't want that relic as much as you claim."
Something seemed to snap in Krieger and his eyes turned wide at the sudden dissent in those he intended to employ. "Did I fail that you are free to keep whatever you loot, and trust me the treasure you'll be sure to find within the confines of the temple grounds of Nuada-Renim," he said in a low voice and viewed the scarred Umbraeon with a look of disgust and contempt. "And if that is still not enough, then consider your payments tripled. I'm looking to hire the best, so I came to you. If I was wrong, then you're free to walk away at any time."
Aldanith's face twisted with disgust as he watched the small man. He barred his teeth, and all of a sudden, he reached out for Krieger. His fingers clenched around the collar of his robe, and picked him up, his feet dangling in the air. Aldanith's wild eyes pierced him, and the noble returned him a look of utter terror and disgust.
"I don't care about the money, but if you are trying to pull something at us, be prepared to cry your sorry ass off. If this is a trap, and I ever get to your neck again, be ready to have it twisted." he snarled, the tip of his tongue flashing behind his sharp teeth dangerously close from Krieger's face. The man gave him a faint nod, pulling his head away from the dark elf as far as he could, and he was dropped onto the ground again.
"We aren't fools, or the filth you can find elsewhere. Think about what you say." he growled, shooting a disdainful glance at the man, covering on the floor. "The pay will be triple."
Vandryn hid his smirk at Krieger's terror, but the man quickly masked it with haughty arrogance and he fixed his collar, straightening his posture and eying them with fiery eyes. "Very well," he said with a nod. "The instructions to reaching the nearest temple of the Nuada-Renim reside in the drawer of that desk, as well as all the information you will need on them. I'm afraid I've spent enough time here as it is."
Vandryn glanced over to Adlanith and scowled a bit, though he said nothing to the other elf as their employer made his exit. "You head the man," Vandryn said, gesturing to the table. "Start reading."
Aldanith came over to the table and opened the drawer. Inside was a roll of parchment, apparently the map Krieger spoke about, and a few other scraps of paper. He pulled it all out onto the desk, and unraveled a few.
"I take the map, you read the instructions. Then we switch places." he growled, and unfurled the long scroll. The map, drawn with black and red ink, was covered with various runes around the picture of the temple and surrounding lands. It was fairly easy to understand, though the runes around were strange. As Aldanith bent above the map, one of his hands reached into his hair, pinned atop his head except for a few wisps, falling around his face onto his shoulders, and slowly pulled out the small knife in it, resembling a needle rather than a blade. Eventually, he pinned the map to the table with it, as the tip of the knife followed the road they were to find, and reached the temple.
Vandryn read the other notes on the cult, scanning them quickly and pouring over them with intensity. "The Nuada-Renim are a primitive cult, dating back to at least the last two thousand years or so," Vandryn remarked, switching the papers within his hands. "They worship what they call the One-With-Three-Faces, but not much on him. They use the Raven's Eye for a great many number of things, from divination, astrolocation, and ...when combined with it's missing pieces, and ultimate source of power. It is said to be a...conduit to allow communication with one Mr. Three-Faces. Doesn't sound promising."
"I've heard of the Raven's Eye." Aldanith nodded, still studying the map. "It's said to be possessed, trapping a demon's soul, or something like that. I don't know how much of that is true, though... Seems just like myths." He pulled the knife out, and returned it to his hair.
"We will have to go southwest. There is a path leading through a cave complex in the forests, and that's where the entrance lies... It should eventually lead back to the surface, straight into the temple. There is said to be a shortcut, which would end right in the middle of it, but that part is full of riddles and it appears there is something blocking it. I wouldn't follow it." He tapped the place where the shortcut was pictured with his finger, and pointed back at the cave. "It's somewhere by some river, which parts and flows through the cave for a short while. We may have to swim."
Vandryn looked at Aldanith speculatively as he looked over the map and he described the path of their journey to the center of this cult. He rolled up the notes on the Nuada-Renim and stuck them in a leather wrap before placing them on the inside of his robes and he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "You," he said laconically. "What are you doing here? Why would Krieger want to hire you?"
Aldanith gave him a slow shrug. "Does it really matter? I'm doing my business here. My reasons for doing it are my own." he replied coldly. "And he'd want to hire me for a single reason: I know how to do this business."
He didn't like nosy people, and this guy was asking too much. He rolled the map back and folded it into a small square before hiding it underneath his armour.
"And what business is that?" Vandryn inquired unmovingly. His eyes were dull, bored and they didn't see much in Aldanith, save that he was likely just another straggler crawling up from the darkness. Most drow were that way and he smelled of blood dirt and idiocy. Of course, Vandryn wasn't just going to assume the worst now, but if they were going to work with each other, he had to know at least a basic sum of his partner before moving on.
"Where do you come from, drow?" he said.
"I come from the dark, and the darkness is my home." Aldanith replied eerily, piercing the other one with his bright eyes. They appeared almost like colorless glass, set amid the rings of dark kohl and ash around, tracing in lines across his cheekbones and disappearing in his hair. He wasn't an ordinary assassin, and he was nowhere near being stupid. His mind was sharpened into brilliancy by centuries of seeking blood and death in which he saw easy gain.
"My business isn't yours to care for, and I believe you wouldn't like it even if I told you. I come from the dark, and the darkness is my home." he repeated.
"Right," Vandryn replied, again in a dull tone, unimpressed and he certainly knew Aldanith wasn't here to impress him. He straightened nonetheless and looked at him from the side. "Your business is my business if we are to work together in this, I'm afraid. I would need to know your skill set, your specializations and just how you could possibly be of any use."
"Assassinations, thievery, combat in general." Aldanith replied sternly. "Martial arts, blades of various kinds, explosives, dark magic." His hands reached up for the hilts of Bloodstorm and Frostdeath, unraveling their long blades for a moment, then hiding them again.
"About yourself?" he asked, raised a brow in faked interest.
"Thank you, that is all," Vandryn said with a faint smirk and headed for the door that Krieger had made exit from. He entered the night and turned his hood up, marching out into the darkness, heading out of the city.
Aldanith returned the mask to his face, hiding the dark ornaments on his skin, paled by shunning sunlight and dark ceremonies that he performed in secret. "You still didn't give me an answer." he hissed as he noiselessly appeared beside Vandryn. The black hood hid his white hair except for the few wisps in his face again.
"It's probably best that you don't know," Vandryn replied simply and disappeared in the nearest alleyway. He ran up the nearest wall and climbed onto the roof, running along the edge of it, his cloak flowing behind him. The city wall was near and the guards were changing posts this time of night, and would make an exit easier than ever.
Aldanith only winged off. "I doubt that." he whispered, and chose his own way, only a short distance from Vandryn. He picked the highest rooftops to climb, and his figure flashed like a flowing shadow through them, the cape and hood waving like a black flag.
He knew very well what was his plan. He aimed to get to one of the shielded places on the town wall, on which he could jump and get over with minimal attention. It appeared like a small tower, and its roof was comfortably close. Only one narrow street divided it from the roof of the house Aldanith just stood on.
He made a few steps back, and bolted back towards the edge of the roof. On its edge, his feet broke off the ground beneath and he leaped into the air like an arrow, fired by a tense bowstring. He crossed the distance with inhuman ease, landing on the roof of the small tower almost noiselessly. The guards surely weren't quick enough to notice something as fast as him.
Perhaps the guards weren't quick enough to notice, but Vandryn had trained his sight all his life to catch anomalies even from the corner of his vision. He had found his way a little easier over the wall and by the time he saw Aldanith finally land on the other side, he gave a yawn and uncrossed his arms from over his chest. "Took you long enough," he muttered and gave him a sniff before turning and running off toward the trees.
Aldanith gestured him to follow, ignoring his provocative remark, and sprinted towards the forest in a speed that outmatched even the limitations of his own kind. His feet hardly touched the ground, and he leaped forwards in insanely long and quick steps, appearing to be flying rather than running.
The trees only flashed by his sides, and even though he ran faster than a wild beast, he maintained his balance exceptionally well, not even getting near to crashing into something, or tripping over. There was something eerily unearthly in his sprint, it was too fast, too flowing to be natural.
Vandryn was fast in his own blood. He was built for punishment, for survival even in the harshest conditions. He did not need to lead on this mission and followed the blur of Aldanith seamlessly. He moved behind him with ease. They were shadows in the night, nothing more than shadows on the wind. Not even the leaves on the ground were disturbed at their passing, as if they were nothing more than ghosts.
The glistening river appeared in the distance, and Aldanith's keen eyes noticed it soon enough to slow down and stop by the shore. He pulled out the map again, studying the various routes that led to the temple, and waited for Vandryn to catch up.
"Now it took you long." he winged off, and pointed at the map. "There are two ways. One leads through the river, while the other one goes over it... Decide which one you want to take. Do you like swimming, or not?" he questioned him silently.
"Swimming is fine," Vandryn answered idly, flashing a grin at the drow, and bowed graciously. "Ladies first."
"That's why I waited for you." Aldanith replied with a crooked grin, and took off the heaviest parts of his armour that might hinder him in the deep, wide flow of the river, such as his shoulderguards and cape. The metal part of his left arm glinted in the dim light of the moon, connected straight to his shoulder, but he dove into the water before Vandryn would get a chance to examine it more closely.
He held his breath, and swum under the surface, slightly against the current of the water, which seemingly didn't hinder him, showing the same grace and strength as before. There was a dark hole in the other shore - an entrance to the cave of which he spoke. He was sure that the map was safe, concealed in a secure place under his armour, where the water wouldn't reach it.
[Lol, airtight armor! 8D]
"And so patient the lady is too," Vandryn commented just a moment after Aldanith slipped into the water. He still wasn't too impressed by the drow, but so far he hadn't gotten in the way. As long as he continued to be useful, he would have few complaints from his Mr. Grotesqueness. Vandryn was not wearing cumbersome, armor, he never did and he never had to. It was unnecessary to carry all that weight and when Aldanith had gone away, he moved down to observe the dropped pauldron.
It was heavy, a dark metal, and it stunk of foul magic. Demons were never a lovely thing to mess with it, but after the stink of drow, the stink of demon was just as strong. "That would explain the overcompensating physicalities," he mused before dropping the piece of iron to the ground and he kicked it to the side, and slowly waded into the water, taking his time before diving below.
Aldanith swam into the river that parted from the main stream, flowing into an underwater cave. His head emerged from the water, sticking the long white hair to the sides of his face, and he climbed out of the river onto a narrow shore. It was just a large piece of rock above the surface of the water, but it fulfilled its purpose perfectly.
Streams of darkened water ran down his cheeks, smudging the kohl and ash, and giving him an even more menacing, eerie appearance than before. He put most of his armour back, only when he noticed that the left pauldron is missing. He snarled. Piece of shit. And that f***er wouldn't bring it back even if it fell on his rotten head...
He moved the rest of his armour over the empty space as well as possible in an attempt to cover the gap. In the end, there was only a small space uncovered, and there was still the leather armour underneath. He impatiently waited for Vandryn, who was either too wimpy to cross the river, or rudely taking his time. Any of those would enrage him, and as he squatted on the rock, he gave his surroundings a look of utter hatred and loathing.
He wasn't there for Aldanith's whim, beck and call. Vandryn moved with the current until he was just on the otherside, following the slop and trail of slime Aldanith left in his wake. Just like a drow, he thought with mild curiosity. By the time he made it through the cave, Vanryn popped on discreetly and walked gracefully up the slippery rock. "Lead on, your majesty," he said with a bored shrug.
"Took you enough time. I thought I'll turn to stone before you show up." Aldanith snarled, springing to his knees. He was getting quite annoyed with Vandryn... If he'd make any more problems, he'd get rid of him quickly, and so it would be if he wasted any more time, too.
He walked over to a small hole in the cave wall. "Ladies first. Even ugly ladies." he gestured Vandryn to enter with a devilish sharp-toothed grin.
"Which is why you're taking the lead. You read the map after all," Vandryn said, bowing. And shortly before bowing, he gestured for Aldanith to continue, clasping his arms behind his back. "Oh, and in case you forgot, you left your armor pauldron on the other side of the bank. Probably not a good idea. You should go back and get it."
"I know I did, but it's a waste of time to return." Aldanith winged off, entering the tunnel. He watched Vandryn's every move with the corner of his eyes, vary of any action the dark elf might make against him.
His hand arose to his head and a small bickering flame appeared above his fingers. It had an unhealthy ghastly color, deprived of any hue, but it lit the tunnel much better than a lantern would. His vision was perfect even in utter darkness, but he wanted to make sure than that idiot behind him won't trip over and make any mess.
Vandryn growled a little, mostly to himself and watched as the drow alight a flame in his hands. So he needed a light to see in the dark? Vandryn said nothing and strode behind him. The tunnel reflected the light back around them as they emerged through it. Vandryn stayed a few yards behind him, letting the light from Aldanith's hand sparkle as the tunnel opened up to a wider cave.
But suddenly his eyes honed in on something ahead of them, the rocks only proving to be a minor concealment, and suddenly Vandryn was upon Aldanith and snatched his hand in one of his and snuffed out the flame. His other hand went over his mouth, holding him in a semi-headlock. "Shhh," he growled. "We're not alone in this cave." And promptly let him go.
"They're right up ahead. At least a dozen or so. Goblins by the sounds of their grunting."
Aldanith turned his head aside to get rid of Vandryn's hand on his mouth, and reached for his scimitars. "I knew about them. There will be short work of those..." he hissed back, reaching after the handles of Bloodstorm and Frostdeath on his back.
The soles of his boots didn't make a sound as he came forth, and soon a dim flashing light of a lantern approached. He pressed his back onto the wall of the cave, and his body seemed to be covered by a thin veil of shadows, hiding him in the dark.
Soon, a grunting pack of goblins, carrying several small lanterns, appeared afar. Their light fell on Aldanith, but he appeared to be completely hidden by the dark as he moved towards them.
Vandryn frowned and moved through the other side, flanking around the approaching creatures. Vandryn vanished from the drow's side, and he felt vines crawling up the side of the cave wall. Quickly he scaled them and crawled to an inlet, a perch of carved stone that lead up to the side. Quietly he removed his bow from his back and took out an arrow, the blink tip hidden along with him in the shadow. He nocked it, silently pulling it back and taking aim at the lantern light.
No, that wasn't his target, but the fattened guard up on the hill, grunting closely with another, smaller goblin. He narrowed his eyes, grinned as he let the arrow fly. There was a brief whistle and nothing more than a gurgling sound as the arrow struck through the neck of the larger goblin guard and the force was enough to knock him into the one in front of him, sticking them both in the neck with one shot. Only the second one had a second to scream.
It was second enough to ring the start of the blood bath.
Aldanith dove into their pack like a shadow in the moment when the goblin's scream echoed in the cave, slashing his scimitars in a fountain of black blood and even blacker fire. His heart was pleased at the sight, the desperate screams of the goblins were a symphony to his ears and the smell of their blood, their fear, was satisfying for his savage, bloodthirsty mind.
He moved too fast to be hit by their daggers and maces, like a lightning, spreading death with every passing moment more and more. And every dead goblin only drove him to a bigger frenzy.
Vandryn was pleased Aldanith was having his fun, at least the pup would be occupied for a time. Vandryn saw them drop like flies and he suddenly moved from his perch, taking a running leap and somersaulting to a large jutting boulder, pointed at the top and overlooking a large stone bridge that was carved over the passage and passed on through toward the cavern exit.
Globlins were swarming them in hordes, and Vandryn nocked arrow after arrow, taking them down like the vomitous insects they were. One was behind Aldanith, spiked club raised and ready to slam it on his head. Blood spurted up and poured from his neck when an arrow found its mark and he fell to his knees, writing on the ground.
The bloodshed was getting more and more brutal. Aldanith has turned to one of the darkest forms of magic - the one that ripped the very bones from the bodies of the goblins, tore their veins and corrupted their flesh.
He still used his scimitars, and caused chaos in the hordes of confused and scared goblins. They were beginning to run away from what seemed like a couple of shadows, slaying their ranks, something that killed but couldn't be killed.
Aldanith stood atop a pile of corpses, and instead of goblins attacking him, he had to start reaching after them. It appeared as they were trying to escape rather than be victorious in something that was anyway an uneven battle... Without any use.
They'd all die in the end, and Aldanith grinned at the thought.
It indeed happened, and soon there were no more goblins to slaughter. Aldanith looked down at something, snarling under his feet. One of the creatures was slowly crawling away, leaving a long smudge of blood behind itself. The dark elf's metal hand clenched around its neck and broke it, grabbing the skull and ripping it out with the spine, hanging like a bizarre tail. It dripped with blood, and Aldanith's cold, hard laughter, resembling a vicious crow, echoed in the cave while his hands, covered in the black goblin blood, ran over his mask, coloring the already dark surface even blacker.
Vandryn waited patiently for Aldanith to be the rest of them. He had killed the rest of what he needed and when that was through he moved back toward the kills he had calculated and plucked the arrows from their bodies. No need in letting those go to waist. After putting his bow away, he peered up at Aldanith and raised his brow expectantly at him.
"Your majesty," he called out, standing by the exit. "Are you ready yet?"
Aldanith carefully wiped his blades with his cape, and returned them into their sheaths, crossed at his back. "I was ready since the moment I laid a foot onto this stone. Are you?" he replied coldly, dropping the skull and turning towards the exit.
The same pale flame burned as he snapped his fingers, and moved over from the pile of corpses to the narrow tunnel.
It was about time they got a move on, Vandryn was quickly getting bored of this. He silently followed after the drow, carefully stepping between his bloodied footprints and peering further into the tunnel. "You're attracting attention. Snuff that flame, would you?" he growled behind him.
"Are you sure you won't trip over something?" Aldanith replied, twisting his thin lips in disdain. He didn't put much trust in this dark elf's skills, although he definitely had at least some. "I won't be standing on one place if you fall on your face and smash it even more than it already is." he winged off.
"Oh I would never dream of making you wait on me, your majesty. But if you feel you need the light for your own poor vision, then by all means keep it alit," Vandryn sneered. "Now shake that pretty princess behind and keep walking."
The flame disappeared. "If you trip, I'll take pleasure in kicking you." he snarled over his shoulder, and stepped into the darkness before him.
His eyes were perfectly accustomed to it, recognizing every stone and every hole in the ground there was. He never had a problem with the dark...
"Oh, but do be careful," Vandryn mumbled with half a smirk. "I wouldn't want you to scuff your fabulous boots." He gave him a grin and stumbled in behind him, faking a bump against Aldanith and rearing back. "Whoops."
Aldanith scoffed at him, and kept walking. "Stop playing games. We aren't on the playground anymore." he hissed.
The tunnel was getting wider and wider by every step, and it was ascending - only slightly, but still enough to be noticed when walking in such a fast pace as they did. It appeared that they would soon come onto the surface.
"I expected something more dank and dark for the home of some group of goblins," Vandryn commented dryly, walking along in he dark and turning his hands toward his lips and soon a small light smoldered and Vandryn puffed an pipe filled with herb, chewing thoughtfully on the tip.
Aldanith sniffed the herbs, and with an enraged expression snapped the pipe out of Vandryn's hands. "You fool! Now isn't the time to smoke! If you want yourself caught, this is the fastest way! I can't believe you are that stupid!" he snarled.
Vandryn's eyes narrowed and he snatched his pipe back. "You should know better than to take what doesn't belong to you," he warned. Aldanith was lucky. He'd taken heads off for lesser things. And puffed on it again, walking away from the drow to let him enjoy his smoke.
"You dense f***er." Aldanith hissed. All of a sudden, the pipe went up in black flames, disappearing within a few seconds, and he was really tempted to do the same with its owner...
"If you want to get caught, then do it alone. You've f***ed this up." His voice was low and silent, but very obviously threatening. His hand was at the handle of a blade, and it would take him just a moment to rip Vandryn to pieces.
"Nonsense. We only just go started," Vandryn mused, wiping the dust from his hands. He paused in the dirt and crouched down, looking the pile that had become his pipe and frowned. "You should smoke more. It might relax you." But he didn't even look up at Aldanith and swirled his hands around the ash pile and breathed in the dust that billowed up from it. He stuck his hands into the ground and pulled out the refurbished pipe, puffing on it once more and spewing out nostrils like the smoke of a dragon.
"Here try this. Just a puff. It will open your mind. And there's no more attention to be had. We're just out of the cave. I already looked. And if you were paying attention you would have noticed too."
"Off course I noticed! Just another reason for you to stop!" Aldanith snapped. "Are you really so stupid? There is always attention to be had, and you're only getting more! The stench of that f***ing thing can be smelt for miles!"
He crossed his arms on his chest and scowled at Vandryn. "I'm not going to repeat one f***ing thing one hundred f***ing times. Put it back where you took it from." he growled. He was losing his patience with this fool, and every moment just made him more and more enraged. If he could just grab his neck and snap it, oh yeah...
Vandryn peered at the drow with dull eyes and puffed on the pipe for a long second, drawing the smoke into himself. "Just come along," he muttered and turned his back to walk up further toward the way they were going. He reached the top of the incline and peered over the ridge into the night, letting the smoke merge into him and wisp out and change before his sight.
He saw the form of their destination, the temple, though it seemed to be nothing more to untrained eyes and he narrowed them again. The smoke turned and swirled and moved back into his lungs. Vandryn turned and continued to walk down the path that came out from the other side of the cavern, smoking along.
Aldanith stopped at the sight of the temple in the distance, examining it with his sharp sight. It was hidden among the trees, hardly visible for an eye that didn't know what to search for, but he saw the ruin-like structure, towering afar. He frowned at it, taking his mask off for a short while, and slipping it underneath his armour.
It has only become a nuisance, hindering his sight and movement, and outside the town he didn't need it, anyway. Noticing that Vandryn is already a long distance from him, he ran down the hillside, and in a short moment, he caught up with him again. While still walking in a brisk tempo, he pulled the map from underneath his armour, and studied it, even though it was slightly shaking in his hands, and the light was far less than sufficient for reading.
The smoke flowed in and out of him, for the herb wasn't very strong. It didn't have to be to achieve it's needed affect and once it clarified Vandryn's mind, he dashed the ashes out and put them away into the pouch he retrieved them from and put the pipe away, blowing out smoke from his nostrils as if he were breathing fire. "You saw the temple too, I take it," he wagered to the drow behind him. "What was the next path again. The ridge is growing too narrow to continue down it."
"Through the forest." he replied shortly. "It's north of this road, anyway." He rolled the map to a tight tube and folded it over a few times, hiding it under one of the steel plates that covered his chest. His hand arose and pointed at the woods on their side.
"That way. Straight." And without any other words, he swiftly climbed up the side of the ridge and stepped into the deep, dense forest that was behind it.
Vandryn's eyes traced up toward where Aldanith scaled the ridge and he followed silently behind. He watched the movements of the drow before him. He was a peculiar creature, with an attitude that could kill a dove with a single glance. He supposed the beast just couldn't help himself, he was a drow after all. But Vandryn kept his musings to himself and followed along.
And the voices in his head began their ruminations.
Leaves hardly even rustled under Aldanith's feet as he walked forth through the forest, light on his feet even despite his height and heavy gear. His eyes were scanning his surroundings, glinting in the darkness as if they shone with their own light. He let his mind wander away from this moment, this place.
Even though he still perceived his surroundings perfectly, he no longer thought about them. His thoughts were far in the dark of a different day.
They walked on in silence for some time. Vandryn had no words for the elf and he was certain the drow had no words for him either. Thankfully neither were the type that had to fill the silence with dead words that meant nothing in particular to anybody.
They were approaching the temple, walking as swiftly as they did, rather fast. Soon, a stone path appeared on the ground beneath, covered by moss and falling leaves, but Apdanith avoided it, instead walking in its direction among the trees.
A shadow moved somewhere afar on the path. Aldanith reacted at the sudden movement lightning-fast - a throwing knife slashed through the air, and a moment later, something dropped onto the ground. He moved forth to take a better look, and saw what must have been one of the cultists - with a slender knife in his throat.
"How anticlimactic," Vandryn said in a low breathy whisper, watching the cultist drop like a fly. He moved over to the corpse and turned it over, pulling off a bloodied wooden mask and beneath it was a carved face, the scars evident of self mutilation and Vandryn only smiled wider.
"Seems our friend here was rather devout. Even got scars all over his arms and stuff," he murmured and rummaged through his clothes. He pulled off his robes and threw them over his own clothes, trousers and all, taking even the mask.
"Nobody will recognise you, I guarantee that." Aldanith hissed with a crooked smirk on his thin lips. His form seemed to flicker and fade, as if it was clouded by mist or a shadow, until he became just a dim silhouette. Blending into shadows didn't take much of his energy, and he could therefore sustain it for a long, long time.
"However, I think we should continue walking. I want to get it done before the sun comes out." he reminded Vandryn silently, taking the throwing knife back, and returning it to a sheath by his side.
"Then perhaps the best method of infiltration would be to split up. I'll go my way, and you can venture straight on if you intended," he said sharply. Vandryn observed the shadow he had become, his posture, form and the weapons on his belt. "I will find an alternate route."
"Kill whatever gets to your way, I'll go straight through. We meet on the courtyard of the temple... You'll notice when I'll be there." he said shortly, clenching his hands around the hilts of his scimitars, and gave Vandryn one last glance before running off towards the temple, only a flashing shadow in the darkness, indistinguishable for anyone that didn't know what to search for
Vandryn narrowed his eyes at his back and ran off toward the right, flanking his direction as he came toward the temple that was half buried inside the ground. Vandryn did not unsheathe his blades, as carefully hidden as they were underneath his robes as he found a hidden tunnel beneath a cluster of boulders and slipped into the darkness.
Aldanith went straight towards the entrance, fading more and more with every step, until he was practically unnoticeable unless one would look really close. Like this, in his insane speed, he managed to bolt through the entrance and a labyrinth of other halls and tunnels, until finally arriving to the main courtyard. It was a large underground hall, dark and shadowy, and cultists were all around it, but none noticed him...
He slowly walked to the center, searching for Vandryn.
But Vandryn was there, in the midst of that crowd and he blended in like he was nothing more than the rest of them. He peered up at the shadow above the courtyard and gave him a silent nod as he passed through the crowd as the cultists began to chant loudly.
Aldanith noticed the sole cultist that wasn't beginning his worship quickly, and passed through the chanting crowd like the shadow he has become. Only a slightly darker indistinct shape touched Vandryn's shoulder.
"Behind you. Keep acting." he whispered into his ear.
In the rear of the compound resided the most protected and well guarded of the cultists religious artifacts and texts of their obsequious faith. Vandryn knew nothing of them, but as long as he could get through this mission with little trouble, he didn't care about knowing them. But he also knew that could readily be their downfall, no matter how much they attempted to get out alive.
Vandryn said nothing to shadow at his back. They just kept walking until they moved toward the inner sanctum.
With steps as silent as the wind itself, even though he wore heavy armour, Aldanith followed Vandryn through the temple, unnoticed by the cultists. One turned towards him and blankly stared at where he stood, but he saw naught but a dim shadow, an indistinct gust of air.
The one who saw them, his eyes had flickered and though it seemed he did not notice, he knew something was amiss. He turned towards his brothers and whispered something into his ear, and so passed on the word from ear to ear as Vandryn and Aldanith drifted further into the compound. Moving away from the congregation was suspicious enough, but Vandryn was getting the feeling they had to move even quicker.
When they were out of sight, Vandryn cast off his mask and robes and stashed them in a massive pot, rubbing his scarred face from the wooden mask. He moved through the shadows towards the more protected section within.
Aldanith slowly started to fade out back into his normal, visible self, as the protection of the shadows was no longer needed. The relic was close, he could feel it, all the voices inside his head were chanting and screaming, and he felt the energy, radiating from something so powerful, in the very air around himself. He could hear it, he could see it, he could breathe it...
"It's close. Find it, grab it, I cover your back and kill whatever gets near." he hissed, moving through the shadows near the walls. His black armour still seemed to create dark mist, which, as if oozing from the metal, partly hid him.
But he did not need to cover his back. Perhaps he should have been paying more attention to his front. Suddenly out of the shadows surrounding them, came a swarm of cultists, more in number than any of them could have imagined and Vandryn's eyes suddenly went wide at the sudden revelation just as he reached the pedestal of the glowing Orb.
He immediately lunged for it but it took little effort for two of the cultists to put him down on the ground, and he grit his teeth, trying to turn around when he felt a boot smash down on his head and force him to the ground. Cultist came in front of Aldanith, but another was at his back and slipped blade between the pieces of his armor, lunging it deep into his spine.
A horrifying scream escaped his mouth as the blade dove deep among his bones, immediately throwing himself onto the floor to get off the tip of the knife. A cover of shadows hid him for a moment, just to erupt in pitch black flames and burning the cultists around a moment later. It was darker than the night itself, and it succeeded in keeping them all away, but the ranks of the cultists were too great to be burned to ashes just like that.
He needed something more...
The voices in his head were chanting, screaming in a mad mayhem. He knew what they hungered for.
A flaming hand reached after the orb, his fingers gritted around it. The intensity of the screams inside his mind suddenly ascended a hundred times higher, but there was power inside this relic. He could feel it better than anything...
Vandryn watched from his place on the ground, the black fire that seeped out from Aldanith. What it sought however, seemed only to tremble and quiver at the temperature that intended to erapture it and when it came close enough the orb that had been on the pedestal seemed only to quiver once more before shattering into a million pieces of useless glass.
Something powerful was released from the orb. Aldanith could feel it, streaming from the broken glass like smoke. His first instinct would be to coil up and try to avoid it, but the voices inside had a different opinion. It needed to be bound.
He kicked back into the cultist that held him down, shaking him off, and reached out towards one of the shards. The smoke twisted and turned around his hand, and he could feel a great presence entering his mind.
Then, something pierced his conscience and took over. The real Aldanith blacked out, but a different mind still controlled his body.
He arose with unsure, stiff moves like a puppet. His eyes were white, completely white, and his mouth was twisted into a wide grin, revealing all the white teeth inside.
And then he laughed.