Palock held his surly attitude inward, pretending to be the quivering fat elf outside for the benefit of his current ‘captor’.
According to the human, he was looking for the king’s chambers…to do what Palock suspected to be assassination.
It wasn’t his business to care; it was only his business to try gather information on the priest…the one he was supposed to be accompanying.
He had been here for less than a day hearing nothing but the talk of conniving elves, planning to marry this ‘Cannith’ to the king’s daughter.
Indeed odd but his ears had not picked up any more information on the matter sadly.
Turning a few corridors, no one is to be seen; well obviously since they are still merry making in the hall, drinking to some victory, the purpose of lost to him.
Reaching a black oak door, Palock opens it quietly and walks in, sitting down faithfully in the corner, furthest from the door.
He doesn’t mind dying, but doing so would mean he’d have to travel back to the damnable portal and forth towards the Capitol again, that would waste too much time.
The human, whose name he doesn’t care about, carefully looks through drawers, under the pillows and under the sheets, peeking in every crevice, every possible hiding spot.
Findings were interesting indeed; blades, scrolls, diaries and other paperwork which were finances of the Kingdom or letters from others, unbroken and kept hidden.
A terrible king, but that is not of Palock’s concern.
“Dammit it’s not here”
“Oy what are you doing here” Someone calls out from the entrance of the chambers, a guard.
Vaulting over the table, the human goes for the guard with his knife, successfully ramming it through his throat, albeit too late for screams were made and the sound of merry making, ever so lessened.
“Shit. You” He flips back round to look at Palock “Where’s a way out?”
“Back entrance, this way”
Palock could take him straight into the guards, but that would mean his death.
So he validly took the human to the back entrance, both spotting two guards laying unconscious, eyes white from shock.
Pointing to the entrance, Palock still feels the knife embedding lightly into his back.
“You’re taking me to a safe place, now”
Sighing internally, he obliges. It isn’t his place as a Reaper to kill the human, but he hopes this treatment will come to an end soon, in the more living way.
As they cross through the open door, two figures emerge from the nearby branches, one bow drawn, the other holding a thick red tome with black pulsating lines…a most familiar tome.
The shock of being ambushed was one thing, but the fact that one was a wild elf and the other an orc, no, a half orc was quite mind-stopping.
Though both involuntarily lower their weapons and take a step back upon sighting the human.
They are scared?
Sure enough both look mortified at the sight of the human.
“Another Demon” The wild elf almost whispers.
Palock…is intrigued. To call a human a demon, obviously both have not met many humans…but he knew that they had met one.
The one he was looking for.
“I’m sorry but why are you holding the tome of my priest friend?”
…
…
The feast had stopped suddenly when guards came bursting in shouting of murder and escape.
Larathion, immediately thrusting himself upon the situation ordered everyone to sweep the palace, find the escapee and bring them to him.
Taking a small contingent of people, mostly armed, they rush towards the cells, spotting their grand prize still locked up.
Quickly taking the burly, greying man out, the carry him to some guest chambers, filling it with guards, for no one is allowed to take away such a person away from them.
He did not wait to watch the small female archer they call Chee be thrown into the cells, tears streaming down her face as she doesn’t know what is happening.
Their imprisonment is a necessary evil, but their killing will not be condoned till after the marriage, for such dishonorable actions would curse the betrothal in the eyes of Fleelf.
Within minutes of all this happening, a message was relayed to him by word; a man had been found, a human, but not a guest.
His first thought was that this intruder had something to do with it, even if Doronius is to be missing and possibly an accomplice; he wasn’t the cause of the matter.
Little did he know Doronius was actually the only cause.
Returning to the grand hall, he was met with a most peculiar sight; a human wearing a white t-shirt and light tan shorts stood in the center of the room, surrounded by guards, weapons raised towards him.
Yet the man didn’t seem to mind, rather he seemed quite annoyed by the whole occurence.
That was but one peculiar sight about this being.
He was also punctured by two of their spears and they wobbled on his body, biting through flesh almost certainly painfully…but the human didn’t even look at them.
One look at this human and he could tell that he was unutterably weak…but even that felt off; the way he stood straight gave a feeling that he was stronger than everyone in here combined.
“What are you doing intruding upon my palace?” He finally decides to ask the man, his mind grown curious.
“You speak my language? Oh thank Aegi” He starts to walk forward, getting a sharp prod in the front mid-step.
He finishes his step, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“Seriously, is it customary in your kingdom to attack strangers upon sight?” He glances down at the spear as it slowly digs into his stomach, blood bubbling through the gaps.
“What? No, but you are intruding upon my castle so tell me why!”
“I’m looking for an ally, well more like he’s looking for me. So while I’m doing that, might as well visit the palace just in case he’s shacked up here”
The response was so non-chalant that for a moment Larathion believed the man was making fun of him. But the response was reasonable, to a point.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“And why do you think that we’d let a human into this sacred place?”
“Really now, where has people’s respects for priests gone” The human shakes his head solemnly.
Most look flabbergasted at the fact the man is a priest, for priests rarely moved outside their own kingdom and usually had a symbol to produce in the name of their God.
But even then, Fleelf is their only god and any others are lies.
A human Heretic, a doubly cursed being.
“Lock him up”
“Do I at least get a me-”
A guard pommels him over the head, knocking the Heretic out.
Larathion had enough misfortunes already, the wedding must happen before another arises.
Looking upon the moon, full and bright in the sky, he orders everyone to go to the temple, the holy place of worship for Fleelf, where they shall marry Cannith and his daughter, forever gaining that great seed and power.
Arriving at the church, already it is packed with the residents; mostly the more well off but a few stragglers from the lower sections of the city somehow reserved a space.
His daughter, Merianda, had spent most of the evening getting ready for the ceremony, thus by the time Larathion was at the front doors, so was she, wrapped in layers of glossy white silk, covering all and revealing nothing.
Silence ensued as he began walking her down the carpeted area, eyes all turned towards his beautiful young daughter, just at the age of marrying.
Reaching the altar where an elderly elf with a fine dressage stood holding the holy scepter of Fleelf, he parted with his daughter, letting her take the hand of the one she was to marry.
Cannith lay still on a stretcher, unconscious, lightly sleeping, unknowing of everything that is about to take place.
“And so do you, Merianda Quinethar, do you take Cannith Blackhaven to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do” She says without hesitation, what a good daughter she is to Larathion.
“And upon this contract, signed by his lawful guardians, Cannith Blackhaven consents to this lawful binding of two souls” The priest holds up the contract, foolishly signed by those humans. “Thus unless an objection is heard from the heavens or the earth, I pronounce thee Husband and W-”
A glowing pillar of light suddenly appears on the altar, blinding all in sight. And when the light finally subsides, the human Heretic stands there, looking rather…unamused at the situation.
“Excuse me, but I believe I object”
“HERETIC HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT SUCH A HOLY CEREMONY. GUARDS. ARREST THAT MAN” Larathion screams at the top of his lungs, he will not have this ceremony fail, he must not!
He was supposed to be locked up, kept away from this. But somehow he had escaped…and not in a natural way either. Larathion could only guess…
No one sprung into action, all still dazzled by his sudden, almost holy appearance.
He noticed his guards shivering, quivering at the sight of the man, for they knew how he did not mind getting impaled, or how imprisonment was nothing to him.
They were so wondrously terrified of the Heretic, whatever he may be that they did nothing but watch.
“As I was saying, I object to this for a few valid reasons”
One may believe they are in the sight of a god, others a devil. Whatever they believed, they all just stood there, watching, rooted to the floor in wonder at this strange being that suddenly appeared, stopping all the guards with a single look.
“The first is that I don’t believe this marriage is consensual, I mean the man is unconscious. This is what I guess one would call Maritial rape?”
“How dare you! This marriage is seen as lawful by the elves on this earth and Fleelf in the sky” The priest rams his staff into the floor, standing up straight and proud in his correctness, overcoming the fear of this man ever so slightly.
“Why yes, this marriage does seem lawful in the eyes of elves. But as you can see, neither I nor the groom are elves”
“And your word means nothing; you are but an intruder upon this holy ceremony”
The human shakes his head woefully "I am a priest; this ceremony is as much mine as it is yours Brother”
“A priest you say?” Immediately the harsh attitude and sneering eyes vanish from the elderly priests face and he begins to conduct himself in a more polite composure. “My condolences, I did not even think that you may be so”
“It is fine people are mistaken. But at hand we must deal with this situation, one that doesn’t seem consensual in the eyes of a human priest over a partially human marriage”
“True, thus we must delay the marriage till the man awakes, as per the holy law says” He turns towards a most bedazzled crowd, not understanding the sudden change in attitude or the odd response either “Once Cannith Blackhaven awakes this ceremony will continue as the laws of Gods state” He shouts to the shocked crowds.
Larathion was seething with anger, trembling with rage as many began to slowly unroot themselves of their terror, to walk away, rushing while trying to maintain face.
He knew he should’ve gotten rid of that priest years ago, replaced him with one more docile, less believing of such foolish traditions of respecting Heretics and following the will of Fleelf rather than his king’s.
Three hundred years has surely rotted the mind of that man and now the repercussions of that rotting is in full effect, ruining all Larathion’s plans, all his hopes and dreams…all because of one Heretic who worships a fake god.
What utter trollop.
But his people believed in the old priest, and here his word was power, for now.
Turning on his heel, Larathion stormed out the door, asking for a certain guardsman, one he knew could do what he is asking for.
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Right so it's been a while since I've updated this...mostly because I've been writing my other Fiction. I'll finish off this elf arc sometime in the near future as to when? let's say before september!
-TRUE NORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRD
Insanity Online! The Forging of a TRUE NORDA Skill Whore's Journey