.:Mavrik:.

Mavrik stirred with a groan, his head thundering as he forced his eyes open, hissing at the bright light that greeted him. His head felt like it was filled with fog, his movements sluggish as he tried to will his limbs to move. He closed his eyes again, snatching at the jumble of thoughts, the fog finally lifted and the events of the night before rushed forward.

The pair seated themselves at the bar, still riding the high of their latest victory. Having slain and vanquished a town from a plague of Cloakers that terrorised them. Delilah found herself despite her best judgement accepting the drink Mavrik offered her.

**

"Cheers" she giggled as she tapped her mug against his with a klunk.

Mavrik found himself in an unusually good mood, taking a swig of his drink. Perhaps Delilah's antics were growing on him, wearing him down. The drink swiftly hit her sense as she took a gulp, grimacing at the burn. Not one to normally drink, perhaps he'd ordered it a bit too strong for her, he eyed her with curiosity, intrigued to find out what kind of drunk she was.

"What? I'm not THAT bad" she teased.

He chuckled lightly as he downed his drink.

"We'll see" He signalled for another round.

Delilah fought to try and knock back another mouthful of her drink, ending up in a fit of coughs.

"Smooth" He taunted, relaxing into his chair.

By now the effects were wrapping their entrancing fingers around her mind, dulling her inhibitions.

She stared at Mavrik "You're really pretty, you know?" She beamed.

"I'm aware" He rolled his eyes "One drink. That's all this took?"

"Are you sure? Because you're really moody, but sooo shiny. All that tough, gruff mountain man act" She babbled.

"I think that might be enough for you" he reached out to snatch her mug. Delilah snickered, trying to evade his movement.

"Lilah" he warned as she almost tumbled off her chair, reaching out an arm to steady her as he took the chance to pluck the drink from her grasp. Powerless to feel anything aside amusement at her antics.

Delilah slumped against his shoulder, closing her eyes as the world spun.

"Mavrik, don't leave me."

"Ah, are we getting to the emotional drunk phase already?" He patted the back of her head gently, she was hopeless.

"I don't feel so good" he heard the murmur against his shoulder, but her voice sounded far away to Mavrik's ears, something wasn't right.

"Delilah.." Feeling her fall from his shoulder, room spinning into black.

**

He sat up, more alert now, feeling something cold and damp caked down his back. Reaching around to discover mud and leaf litter, he wasn't in the tavern any more.

"Fuck" heaving himself to his feet, white cold fury seeping deep into his skin.

Curling his fists as he looked around. He'd woken in the trough of a pig pen, armour and weapons gone, and no trace of Delilah.

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He pushed down the growing dread, letting it be used to fuel the burn of something far darker.

There would be hell to pay.

Mavrik descended on the tavern, feeling the dark delight that festered inside him at the sight of two men trying to coax Glenn away. One man heaving at the reins while the other pushed at his rump.

"calcitrare" He commanded briskly, the horse reacted. Bucking out and landing a hit square into the side of one man's head. He crumpled to the floor lifeless without a sound aside the sickening crack of hoof connecting bone.

By now the other man had frozen, staring at Mavrik like he had seen the devil himself.

"Where is she?" Mavrik snarled, voice dripping with venom.

The young man stuttered, eyes wide as he scrambled back, falling on his back side, trying to scramble away on his hands and knees.

"I-I don't know" Mavrik raised his foot, stomping down on the back of the man's head with a heavy plated boot, eliciting a scream.

"S-stop please! Th-they took her to auction. I swear that's a-all I know."

"Not. Good enough" Mavrik spat through gritted teeth, twisting his foot and hearing bones crunch.

The man's screams becoming more shrill.

Mavrik stepped over the blubbering sack of shit, leaving him to suffer as he continued to make his way to the tavern.

Pushing open the doors he heard jeers from a few of the men sat inside, clearly misjudging the sight of him without his armour.

"Ya got a little something on you" one snorted.

"Got a lot of nerve coming back here without all your fancy armour. What ever happened to it?" Another one snickered. Mavrik turned on him, stalking towards him, squaring his shoulders. Feeling the side he had denied for so long begging to be called upon, with the absence of Delilah, he indulged it.

"You tell me."

The man's confidence wavered as he glanced to his colleagues who stepped closer to Mavrik. The air shifting, nervous glances exchanged between them.

"How about you leave buddy" one guy muttered, despite his words there was a bead of sweat forming on his eyebrow.

Perhaps it was the murderous look in the man's eyes, or the blood splatters on his boot that had the men second guessing who had the upper hand.

Mavrik wasted no time in crunching his fist into the nose of the nearest man, not granting him the opportunity to scream let alone recover as he rained down blow after blow, long after the man had slid to the floor in a bloody pulp.

"Ready to tell me?" Mavrik rounded on the paralyzed men, ignoring the gurgling behind him.

"Th-there's a-a storage room in the cellar. Your s-stuff is there." One spoke up, as if hoping his words would send a prayer to save them.

"And the Tiefling?"

The men gulped, sheer terror in their eyes as Mavrik advanced ignoring their feeble pleading as he unleashed sheer unbridled brutality on them. Continuing to use his bare fists even once their swords clattered to the floor, not wanting to finish them quickly. Every scream, crunch of bone, tooth that fell, and hot, sticky blood droplets that came from them brought sickening satisfaction.

Panting as he finally straightened, from one of the men as his wailing fell silent, fists bruised, and bloody. The absence of the sword on his back was distressing, but even more so was Delilah's unknown fate. He trudged forward, an eerie silence settling over the building once any pained moans or strangled breaths died down.

The steps creaked under Mavrik's heavy steps as he made his way down into the cellar. At first glance there seemed to be nothing but some barrels of alcohol, something caught his eye. A lone bottle seemed out of place on a shelf, he ran his hand along the shelf feeling the switch he was searching for and hearing the wall he had his back to slide away.

With his fists up, he stepped into the small, dark room.

Five large sacks laid in the middle of the room, packed and ready for transport with his executioner sword leant against the wall. He examined the sword quickly, relieved that it appeared untouched. Mavrik opened the first bag, finding his armour haphazardly thrown in, the rest of his and Delilah's belongings muddled in with other items he didn't recognise. It seemed the bar had been running this scheme with more than just the duo.

Mavrik carefully pulled on his gear, tucking Delilah's weapons and belonging into one of the sacks.

His eyes caught a sliver of red in the corner of the room, feeling the hot rage rising once again as he crouched down and scooped up the crimson scarf that Delilah always wore, hands trembling. He sighed heavily, slamming his gloved fist into the stone wall, her words echoing in his head wracking him with guilt

'Mavrik, don't leave me'.

He shouldn't have let this happen. He had been careless, a momentary lapse of judgement. It had almost cost him the sword he'd fought so hard to protect and it may very well cost him Delilah.

Mavrik returned to Glenn, slipping Delilah's belongings into the saddle bag. There was no sign of her horse.

"You're looking for the devil girl right?"

Mavrik drew his Morningstar, whirling around and readying himself for a fight, as the woman who spoke raised her hands in surrender.

"Easy, I had no part of it. I overheard the men bragging about selling her to some witch hunters, frankly I think those men in there deserved what they got. The witch hunters took the road towards Wimborne, left in the early hours before first light"

Mavrik swung himself up onto his horse.

"Thank you"