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Whisper 'Pretty Nose' Jinx
Hardir O’ Fardor
Part I
-The deadliest game in the Realm-
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> “Let her sleep,” The King rustled smiling at the sight of the little girl making faces as she dreamed and then turned his amber eyes on the solemn Ranger that had brought her back safe. There were black circles under her eyes and Maeriel looked worn out.
>
> “Is there something else?” He asked her. She gave a small nod with her head, then walked to Fikumin and gave him a beautiful engraved longbow and an equally expensive wooden quiver. The King knew those weapons very well and he swallowed slowly, his mouth bitter. “You should keep those,” He suggested and Fikumin nodded agreeing.
>
> “With all the respect sire, I can’t keep them,” Maeriel replied standing back and setting her jaw added. “She left her weapons as a coming of age gift for your daughter.”
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzBMgCtcj7TS-lbROzmIVl38SOk4Qkpt7BAvFNGQL4m28T_C_yiv4u8yCRkuQAyDBxKFYML1ym5L493hAheI3DXbLK5SZLQcB7jqtiwSfODfmtRhCnGAuXn95BfLRLtVxiN0_LeFC7N4Jotd-_C4GrAVprLIOeeng5VV9zp9-C4YMrTtgxpbd_GOj/s1116/Sinya%20Goras.jpg]
New Goras circa 194 NC
Crack…
Went the small branch, a bird with a meter long tail squeaking scared and flying away. Its plumage blue, orange and a bright yellow. A white-headed flying monkey tried to catch it while airborne, but missed it and landed next to a frowned Jinx.
Oh-oh, ah-ah, went the monkey and spat a fat blob of phlegm on her pants.
“Ye fuckin’ cunt,” Jinx growled and tried to kick the little animal. The monkey jumped away and cackled hysterically giving her the middle finger. Jinx hissed and reached for an arrow, but Maeriel put a hand on her shoulder, long fingers reaching almost to her neck and stopped her.
“It shall sleep hungry because of you,” The Zilan said in her singing voice. Jinx snorted, shook her hand away and went to gather a couple of leaves to clear her pants.
“Friend of yours?” She told her eyeing the small monkey watching them from a tall branch.
Maeriel frowned, purple and silver mixed in her large eyes, the scar under her chin visible.
“My friends have all perished,” She replied and Jinx gasped not knowing what to say and glared at the monkey.
“It was a joke,” Jinx blurted out finally. Maeriel nodded and signed for the monkey to approach them. “A bad one.”
“I admit to an untruth as well,” The Zilan ranger told her. “A tasteless jest prompted by your bad joke,” She added and patted the monkey’s head softly. The little creature grinned happy and used his long tongue to clear his chin and nose.
Thoroughly.
“I’ll cut a branch down,” Jinx decided, watching the monkey climbing on Maeriel’s back and hugging her long neck.
Breathe girl.
Move away now.
“There are branches a plenty,” Maeriel said following after her. “All around us, why cut one?”
“Searching the forest for the proper one sounds stupid,” Jinx replied, a little tensed.
“Hurting a living tree sounds cruel,” Maeriel argued. “And counterproductive when proper wood is readily available.”
Well, not always, Jinx thought with a lecherous grin.
Being in that kind of mood all of sudden are we girl?
Oh, crap.
“It’s one branch Maeriel,” Jinx insisted, all this time following the narrow path amidst the ancient yew trees. The Zilan made to answer her, but the forest came to an abrupt end suddenly and they saw the springs at the top of the plateau. Water was coming out of the cracks on the soft rock, flowed briefly over the harder one and then dropped into the large lake below.
Hoo-ha, ah-ah, the monkey said excited and Maeriel smiled a predator’s smile that took Jinx’s breath away.
“Go Bobelo check it out for us,” The Zilan whispered into the monkey’s ear, glancing her way.
“That’s his name?” She croaked, just as the monkey flew away clumsily, thin arms beating at the air spastically. Not that the Gish cared about the monkey anymore.
Jinx was fighting a losing battle here.
“Why?” Maeriel probed sensing her turmoil.
“Glen will call him Bob. I bet ya,” Jinx explained and backed away, when Maeriel approached her. The Zilan stopped not expecting it and then blushed fiercely. She cleared her throat a couple of times and then asked casually, staring at the massive amount of clear water cascading down the edge of the plateau.
A small lake pouring into a bigger a one.
“Is Hardir O’ Fardor your mate? Glen a term of endearment?”
The question taking Jinx by surprise.
“For Sen it is,” She replied. “My Glen is her favorite expression.”
“Sen?”
“Sen-Iv. His wife.”
“Ah, so he keeps Gish as—” Jinx stopped her before she could finish.
“No. People don’t do that anymore Maeriel.”
“They don’t?”
Jinx sighed. “Not as much. Not Glen.”
“How did he found the Wyvern?” Maeriel queried, her long ears turning gracefully slightly right and left, as if trying to discern hidden sounds amidst the noise coming from the waterfalls.
“He hatched an egg I gave him,” Jinx bit her lip at that. She shouldn’t be talking to her. What are you doing? She admonished herself and Maeriel who was watching the young Gish out of the corner of her eyes let out a deep sigh.
“Apologies,” The Zilan said. “I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never been with a ‘Skilled’ one before. You’re very attractive.”
Aww.
Jinx licked her lips and walked up to the taller female.
Much taller.
What the actual fuck? She cursed staring at the Zilan’s boobs.
“Why skilled?” Jinx asked and realized Maeriel’s skin glowed from inside, the small dark veins dancing and visible.
“What Gish means,” The ranger whispered, looking down over those mounts of flesh.
“Did ye just spell-fuck me?” Jinx retorted and watched her blush to the roots of her hair.
“Alas, I used this scouting trip as a ruse,” Maeriel admitted and hang her head. “I shall remove myself and never approach you again—”
Eh.
“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot,” Jinx told her, stopping her ridiculous nonsense. “Just give me a warning first.”
“A warning,” Maeriel droned and licked her lips. “As in a sign, a secret call—”
Jinx stopped her again with a groan.
“A simple wink will suffice,” She deadpanned. Maeriel stood back utterly confused and Jinx went to explain to her, but a male Zilan appeared across the small lake next to the springs, about thirty meters from them. He carried a long bow and was dressed in light armour. Another two coming after him. He stared at Jinx stunned and she stared at him equally amazed for a brief moment.
Then the small monkey flew over them cackling and broke the stalemate.
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“RUN!”
Jinx swung around and danced behind a trunk, but Maeriel was already there and grabbing her arm pushed Jinx even further back.
“What?” Jinx gasped, whilst fumbling with her bow, hands shaking. Maeriel hissed and shoved her hard with her left hand, then brought it behind her head in a single fluid move and fired an arrow in the blink of an eye at a thick bush located over Jinx’s right shoulder. The arrow whistled angry just as Jinx tumbled like a ball on the muddy ground, another flying and striking the spot she stood a moment earlier.
A Zilan came out of the foliage, bowstring drawn, glanced at the tumbling Gish for a split second and then fired again aiming for the moving Maeriel. The ranger twirled on her back foot to dodge it, whilst reloading her own bow.
It was poetry in motion.
Maeriel fired whispering under her breath, the smell of burning incense flooding Jinx’s nostrils, but missed as her opponent blurred away and when he came about both Zilan had switched to their long knives.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Leave Jinx!” Maeriel yelled at her. “They’re on to us!”
How? She wondered reaching for Zola’s quiver, but the Zilan she’d spotted over the small lake not even a minute back, dropped from the trees in front of her and kicked her hard in the chest. Right at her coin purse. Jinx flew backwards, somersaulted midair dropping her broken bow and landed awkwardly on a shoulder. She gasped, got up on a knee and reached for her shortsword with a hand, the other digging in the mud. The Zilan came at her, three red lines running down his face, eyes gleaming smugly, when he jumped aside avoiding her slash. The next moment he got a mouthful of mud between his teeth and coughed it back out furious.
Jinx made to taunt him, but Maeriel cried out a warning and the Gish ducked instinctively, the arrow buzzing next to her ear and stabbing a tree trunk to the fletching’s.
We’re gonna lose here darling. Perish unloved in the middle of Abrakas arsehole, thinking on what could have been, she thought and sidestepped away from the first Zilan’s blade, putting him in the field of view of his friend. The first Zilan hissed, face covered in mud and hopefully a bit of monkey shit, and his unseen friend got out from his hiding place, a long curved blade in hand and walked towards her.
Oi, crap!
Jinx jumped away again, her opponent following her and trying another high slash. The Gish stooped forward into a deep bow, a leg firmly planted on the ground, forehead pressed on her shin, the other leg rising counter-clockwise and smacking the Zilan right on the nose breaking it.
The male stumbled back, but before a rising Jinx could take advantage from the respite, the apparently not that badly hurt Zilan reached forward and grabbed her by the throat with his left hand. The male ranger showed her his bloody teeth and went to take a bite out of her face, but something came out of his throat in a gory explosion, the steel tip almost killing Jinx as well and his fingers lost the grip on her neck.
Jinx went down, eyes ogling and trying desperately to breathe, whilst the male collapsed next to her and the Hoplite’s voice rang amidst the trees.
“Spilling blood in the Eternal Springs is prohibited,” Anfalon grunted sounding irate and started walking briskly towards the gasping Jinx. “Yield now fools, for the chance at a swift execution!”
The Zilan that had tried to circle around her paused and stared at the approaching Hoplite. Anfalon had hurled his spear from at least a hundred meters away, the fact he hadn’t skewered Jinx along with her opponent a show of great skill.
Or a ton of fuckin’ luck.
The Zilan thought about it and seeing his friend retreating away from Maeriel, he turned away and jumped up a tree, fast as a cat. Anfalon let him go and reached to pick Jinx off the ground.
“Gratitude,” Jinx said breathlessly to the sinister helm, her knees still shaking.
Anfalon snorted and stooped to get his spear out of the dead ranger’s neck.
“Is she hurt?” Maeriel asked and run towards them worried.
“Maeriel, this is unbecoming your station,” Anfalon admonished her. “Please restrain yourself in my presence!”
Maeriel blushed fiercely and bowed her purple-blue head as deeply as Jinx had afore chastised. Jinx felt blood rushing down her loins.
“I shall strive to improve myself Anfalon, of Orloriel!” She droned truthfully, Glen’s voice cutting through her apologies.
“What is this shite?” The ‘great’ Hardir O’ Fardor complained, pushing branches and shrubbery aside, soaked to the bone. “How are we supposed to get down from this fucking rock?”
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Apparently there was a road leading down towards Goras’ twin -still standing- ancient towers. It was built in the wall of the steep slope facing the lake and descended for almost two kilometers. One could see the massive ruins rising in the mist beyond the great lake, despite being kilometers away. Anfalon had described them as the North Gates. The towers height well over a hundred meters according to Angrein.
Glen gave a thoroughly embarrassed Maeriel a tongue-lashing for putting Jinx in danger and Whisper wanted to kick him in the jewels for conveniently forgetting, it was his idea to send them ahead of the group to scout in the first place.
“You shouldn’t have let them escape,” Flix argued. “That was a lapse in judgement.”
“We should give them a chance to do the right thing,” Anfalon told him.
“They’ll never surrender, or leave willingly Anfalon,” Flix insisted.
“Not everyone is a cultist Gish!” Anfalon admonished him.
“Let’s not go about murdering the local populace on sight,” Glen agreed eyeing the deep waters with apprehension.
Anfalon snapped his head towards him.
“They can be no mercy for those committing atrocities, none.”
Glen grimaced. “Twas my meaning friend.”
Oh, this will need addressing soon, Jinx thought.
“We follow the road to the lake,” Fikumin said. “Then we skirt around it. Does the mist lift at all down there?”
“There is a road to follow,” Angrein argued and Kalac snorted not likening riding in the blind.
“I will scout ahead,” Maeriel offered.
“I will help,” Jinx added and Glen whipped his head her way livid.
“You’re going to get yourselves killed. It’s better to send Alix. He’s smart enough not to get spotted.”
“Eh,” Alix said unsure on the praise. “I move better in the night.”
“With the amount of mist down there, it’s practically the same thing!” Glen argued looking at him with hatred. Jinx chuckled, Glen was so transparent at times it was downright funny.
“No it’s not actually,” Alix insisted not backing down.
Flix tapped her shoulder and Jinx turned to look at his aged face. The ancient Gish had run out of makeup for a long time now. His real face showing clearly. “What?” She probed, while Glen and Alix went on lengthy diatribes on the amount of visibility one had in the fog versus the night.
“Get going,” The old Gish urged her. “Let her lead the way, for she will follow you everywhere, hehe. We’ll come right after you.”
“I don’t trust ye old bones,” Jinx told him.
“Thou shouldn’t, you’re a smart Gish,” Flix retorted without being insulted. “But we need to finish here soon. So get going chop-chop.”
“Why? Are you pressed for time?” Jinx asked him narrowing her eyes.
“Everyone is,” Flix replied with a sigh. “You’ve a rare chance here Jinx. Few Gish had it in the past. Very few and none without huge sacrifices. Win and built a place for you and yours. But if this fails, you’ll never see your family again.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not from me,” Flix replied gravely.
Jinx gathered a few wayward pink curls off her face and into a fresh ponytail.
“You don’t know me old bones,” She finally murmured. “I’m not easy to intimidate.”
“Derix, Ubix and Linx. The twins,” Flix said stooping near her face. “You talk in your sleep youngling. Nothing is too far for the Circle.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not an easy thing in my condition and you’re not my type,” Flix replied. “I want what’s good for you. You’re alive because I vouched for your usefulness.”
“To whom?
“Every shadow you pass by, every dark alley you enter.”
“Does he know?” Jinx asked and Flix shook his head negatively.
“It’s how things always worked youngling. Rulers don’t bother themselves with the minutiae. We take care of that.”
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“I lived in an age without options, survived through sheer will and obeying without hesitation. The most horrifying commands you’ll ever imagine. This will be my last service though,” He told her setting his jaw.
“Bringing Glen to Goras,” Jinx whispered.
“Bringing a Wyvern back to Wetull,” Flix corrected her. “Honoring the only family I ever had, before it’s too late.”
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Jinx puffed out and Maeriel hearing her, glanced back.
“You’re troubled,” The Zilan ranger noticed and Jinx looked back at the barely visible Glen standing next to Anfalon waiting for their signal it was safe to approach the lake.
“Why are you here Maeriel?”
“Help my people,” She replied without hesitation.
“Phina isn’t your people, but you helped her as well,” Jinx noticed.
“Two centuries are enough to make you see things differently,” Maeriel said after a thoughtful moment. “See beyond castes and station.”
“Does Anfalon agree to that?”
“He’s too old, never cared about politics,” Maeriel replied. “In the end he was lonely as much as everyone else. It was Phinariel’s bold action that brought him to us.”
“Uhm.”
Maeriel looked at her. “You’re troubled. But not about me,” She decided. “Nor Anfalon.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re too close to Hardir. You have his ear lass of the Sinking Isles,” Maeriel told her. “A dangerous place for you. People shall either seek your favor, or your elimination young Jinx.”
“This is ridiculous,” Jinx hissed.
Maeriel chuckled, her eyes beaming. “No,” She replied, signaling for their friends to approach. “It’s politics. The deadliest game in the Realm.”
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The massive houses were abandoned at first glance. Overgrowth had covered some of them, but not all. Triangle-shaped, mostly scalene variants of it, the windows floor to ceiling and oddly shaped. Built out of sturdy cut granite mixed with colorful quartz, they gave a strange glow at the rare sun ray that escaped the lake’s heavy mist. Mostly two storied, the size of villas and as tall as small towers. They faced the Eternal Lake’s banks, long paved pathways leading to the sandy beach at its front.
“Soletha maintained the place,” Maeriel murmured, “With her daughter and her lover.”
“Where are the rest?” Jinx asked, staring at the silent buildings by the lake.
“It was a vacation spot,” Maeriel explained. “Not many residents when the city was destroyed.”
“That’s a lot of city remaining.”
“That’s just the outskirts of Goras,” Maeriel explained and stopped suddenly.
“What?”
“Back away.”
Jinx saw the Zilan appearing out of the mist. She recognized Pyriael amongst them.
“Towards the buildings,” Maeriel hissed and followed after her when Jinx started retreating.
The Gish signed for Glen to watch out and when he didn’t seem to notice, Maeriel fired an arrow in front of his horse and that did it.
“Murderers, looters and infidels,” A Zilan wearing a long dark and scaly robe said, addressing the others present. About thirty of them, but not everyone was armed. He pointed a finger at Glen’s smaller group. “Hiding in the dark, shovel in hand to dig up the graves and kill the Goddess’ children.”
“Which Goddess is that Pelleas?” Anfalon boomed stepping forward. The two groups were about twenty meters apart.
“The one that stayed to pick up the pieces,” The Priest replied. “Repair the crazy Queen’s mistakes. Cleanse the land.”
“Thou should have stayed on your mountain,” Anfalon told him and reached for his spear. “Then again you made it easier for me.”
“Her rule is broken, Anfalon,” Pelleas replied, keeping his composure. “I don’t see your Wyvern. I heard it’s a young one. Pity you kept it away.”
“It’s not his Wyvern,” Glen said, sounding pissed as all hells. “You killed your own people and dare stand there and preach of righteousness?”
“Who are you?” Pelleas asked eyeing him like a bug that dropped into his soup. He was short for a Zilan and not very athletic, but he had a hypnotic stare that was creepy as fuck, Jinx thought and felt Maeriel lacing her long fingers to hers comfortingly.
“I’m Hardir O’ Fardor,” Glen replied and unsheathed his new sword. “I’m bored talking to yer likes frog-eyes. Frankly I can barely breathe in this god-forsaken place. I suggest you give up and let these people go.”
“These people,” Pelleas growled, not expecting the insult. “Swore their lives to Vemoro Sinya Nore. Thou should do the same.”
“Suck a bag of dicks,” Glen deadpanned and then added without looking away. “Flix?”
Pelleas flinched in panic seeing his death and the assassin’s bolt went into the upper part of his shoulder, breaking the bone there and hurled him to the ground like a ragdoll.
Chaos erupted in the fog-covered lake quarter at the outskirts of Goras. Arrows whistled, swords clanged and people cursed in fury, or fear. A Wyvern shrieked enthusiastically flying over them and Vemoro that was sleeping at the bottom of the lake woke up and rose out of its still mist-covered waters.
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