Silifran lay at the southern edge of Duabil Forest and bordered the territories of the Human United Front. The city had a rapidly growing population of kinn'hayas, and its prosperity was driven by the constant flow of goods from both human and kinn'haya’s lands, making it the most important frontier city in the kingdom. Silifran's reputation as a destination for wealthy elven citizens seeking new opportunities and adventure spread far and wide, drawing even more elves away from the stifling culture of the capital and the heartland of the elven territories.
Feralis led the city's rapid population growth, and while other races were tolerated, they all fell under the rule of the elves. Rising crime in the city's outer ring and tensions with human patrols in the surrounding areas brought a heavy military presence. Despite kinn'hayas and elves being equal under the terms of the alliance treaty, the elves of Silifran held the upper hand and wielded their power accordingly.
Night fell, and X found himself out of the interrogation room and wandering through the sparsely populated streets. Under the clear night sky, he saw two moons and an otherworldly number of stars shining above. While walking down the cobblestone roads, he noticed the scarcity of sentient beings and carriages passing by. The houses were stacked closely together, and their architectural style, use of stone, and oil lamps made Silifran’s outer ring appear medieval. However, X immediately knew that this city was unlike anything on Earth, present or past. It had a unique quality to it, with strange symbols and engravings on doors, windows, and signs.
As he ventured deeper into Silifran’s outer ring, the redheaded elf observed more strange beasts, both cognizant and non-cognizant, walking under the light of the two moons, one reddish and the other light blue. Some of these beasts carried glowing objects, bags, stones, armor, and weapons on their belts or backs. He was surprised to find that the buildings in this part of the city conformed to human standards. Even the most adventurous of structures still resembled human ones and could be grouped under a medieval-avant-garde style. X observed the constructions with disappointment, he had previously thought that the strange creatures would live in equally strange dwellings.
Hmmm... Maybe there are laws preventing them from digging a hole in the ground to nest. Who knows with these freaks.
And he was not far from the truth.
The elf wandered the streets of Silifran, his head covered with rags, observing the city's nightlife. A few establishments buzzed with movement and all manners of beings. X saw several elven patrols, which he avoided, but noticed that he did not see any civilian elves in these streets. Instead, he witnessed a variety of different races. Five streets away from the main avenue, he found a small garden. Tired and hungry, he sat under a thick tree, where he ate his last piece of bread and discarded the empty bag. Not long after, exhaustion overcame him.
An hour past midnight, loud voices jolted him awake. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, attempting to focus on the source of the commotion. Suddenly, he saw three dark figures running down the narrow street. They were shouting to each other, their voices growing more frantic by the second.
"Stop there!" A soldier's voice boomed from behind them.
"Run, you amateur fucks!" yelled one of hooded figures running from the soldiers.
"Shit, they're closing in!" answered that figure’s running partner.
"Split!" exclaimed a third one.
X watched as one of the figures darted into the alley behind him, while the other two disappeared into dark corners.
"Stop! By order of the Elven King!" the soldier's voice grew louder.
Why would any creature, from any realm, be compelled to run from authority? X knew a couple of reasons but knew even less existed to care about it. Then again, what can reason do in the face of an impulsive nature? What does reason become when lured in by its urges? Addiction. An unforgettable memory called to the redheaded elf, and its pull overwhelmed him.
X watched as the black-clad figures ran in different directions, the sound of shouting elven soldiers becoming louder. The growing pull of the abyss urged the redheaded elf to chase after one of the figures as it darted into the alley behind him. He pushed himself to run as fast as he could, burning through the last of his energy. The figure ahead of him quickly disappeared through a sewer grate, and without hesitation, X followed. The sound of the patrols passed him by as he landed in the sewers, narrowly avoiding capture.
“Where are those lessers?!” demanded one elven solider.
“They can’t disappear into the aether!” replied another.
“Keep looking!” ordered their captain.
The elven soldiers continued their search, and silence returned to the night.
After getting his feet submerged in piss and shit, the elf felt cold metal pressed against his neck. He looked down to see a sharp knife, an old friend, its tip poking his delicate elven skin.
"Don't move, don't yell... Who the fuck are you?" the figure spoke, pressing the knife deeper into his neck. A drop of blood dripped down the metal.
X noticed the hooded figure studying him with a mixture of indifference and suspicion. The mysterious being’s white tusks and light gray eyes were partially visible in the moonslight that filtered through the sewer grate. The humanoid’s stubble and green skin reflected the reality of this world, while his grip on the knife remained firm, and his eyes mirrored his cold and ruthless soul.
"Wait... let me... catch my... breath..." X managed to say, struggling to steady his breathing.
The humanoid stared at the elf, his eyes filled with a dangerous glint. He had the look of a professional assassin, someone who killed on command without doubts or hesitation. X knew that he was in a dangerous situation and needed to be overly cautious.
"A hobo sleeping on the streets, crawling down into the sewers... a rag over his hair and mesh covering half his face," the figure described X.
Recognizing himself in the humanoid’s words, the redheaded elf twisted his mouth into a smirk.
"The fuck are you doing down here?" asked the humanoid.
"I was... running away from those soldiers..." replied X.
"You aren't with us," spoke the figure, his grip on the dagger tightening.
"No... but I had to run nonetheless."
"So... who the fuck are you?"
"X"
"What?"
X glanced around at the filth that surrounded him before speaking. "Eh... A sewer being as fine a place as any, can we discuss this somewhere else?"
The green sentient creature stared at X’s languid self, as if considering his request. "Hmmm... The boss will decide. And bait is never rejected," he finally said, shoving the ragtag elf forward.
The hooded figure kept pushing X through the labyrinth of the sewer, where the scant light that managed to seep in barely dented the darkness of those damp passages.
X trudged through the gray water, struggling not to retch at the smell and texture. "Are you sure you know the way?" he asked his silent guide, only to be met with a shove and no response. Pointing to a perfectly formed turd lit by moonslight, X quipped, "Look, that turd looks familiar!" but was met with another shove and a curt, "Shut up and keep walking."
“Hey!” objected X. “I’m just wondering how many times are we going to pass through here? You really don’t need to worry about—”
“And do go faster,” the humanoid cut him off.
The elf’s captor forcefully shoved him, and X almost fell into a flurry of excrement but managed to crash into a wall at the last moment.
“I’m really trying my best to get away from this funky-smelling home of yours... as fast as I can,” X spoke to the silent figure.
The elf slogged through the murky water, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the putrid smell. He shuffled his feet, each step a struggle as the water weighed him down. An hour of touring Silifran's sewers passed before they finally came to a stop on dry land.
"From here on, you better watch yourself," warned his guide, and X sighed before nodding in agreement.
Being under the city, inside the shit-stained tunnels, brought back memories.
[Feel at home yet?]
The smell is not far off...
As the mirage had appeared, it disappeared.
At least we no longer walk on crap and piss.
Several minutes later, the flickering light of burning torches illuminated their path and cast an eerie glow on the beings that walked by. Life in the sewers bared its splendor. Down here, sentient creatures bore a distinct look, a criminal style X could recognize anywhere. The air was thick with the stench of decay.
The inhabitants of the sewers turned their heads to stare at the newcomers, their eyes filled with malice.
"New bait, Heiran?" asked a small being, one of the most human-looking ones.
"He won't last a day... looks like he’s dying already," spoke another hidden under the veil of darkness.
"Leave the bait with us, we'll take care of him. Real good..." uttered a true human.
X glanced at them impassively, not a shred of concern on his face.
"I heard about what happened in the raid," spoke the medium-sized being, who guarded a steel door, his frame too big for his short body.
"Don't look at me, it wasn't my idea. Is the boss in?" replied X’s guide.
The guard nodded. "And he has been waiting for your report."
With one last push, the green humanoid shoved X inside a large, circular room. A thin pink smoke filled the air along with a mix of chemicals and beastly odors that assaulted their nostrils, a stark contrast to the putrid smell of the sewers. In this chamber of decadence, his sights fell upon the creme de la creme, the who’s who of the cloaca, a diverse group of beings gathered with only one goal in mind: to have a good time. A far cry from the squalor they had just traversed.
In the center of the room stood a large table, brimming with an array of substances, items, drinks, and food. At the back of the room, several sentient creatures, both male and female, scantily dressed and in a variety of shapes and colors, lounged on a large couch, indulging in hedonistic pleasures. Too focused on themselves, only a few bothered to turn their heads towards the newcomers.
X and his silent guide walked towards the center table, where a figure obscured by unnatural vapors and dim light sat atop a decrepit wooden throne. As they approached, X could see the table littered with what he assumed to be hard liquor, plain-looking herbs, cigars, and various other items that he suspected were used for individual indulgence in this den of degeneracy. Stimulants, the staple of any criminal gathering, flowed without interruption or delay. The missing key ingredient was non-stop, ear-piercing music, and he’d be back at home. Even the freaks were already here. X couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.
Cushions piled high formed an immense bed at the opposite side of the chamber. Moans and groans of every type escaped the soft fabrics, filling the room with a carnal essence. The translucent curtains surrounding the bed of cushions billowed and swayed, casting sensual shadows that seemed to writhe and entwine with one another, devouring any protrusion that dared to slip by unnoticed.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Approaching the sitting figure, the thin vapors revealed a middle-aged man. His hair, a mix of dirty blond and silver strands, fell haphazardly to the side, and glittering rings adorned each of his fingers. His right hand hovered near the handle of his long sword, always at the ready. The man was taller than most, with a thick and rugged build, the result of many battles. He rose to his feet, adorned in the spoils of his criminal endeavors: golden jewelry hung around his neck, ruby earrings dangled from his ears, and two deep slashes marred one of his eyes, which was closed permanently. The imposing figure wore a white and fashionable frock.
X examined the figure before him from every angle. A human male stood before him.
"Heiran! What the fuck happened?! Bethol and Sammelin reported it was a shitshow!" exclaimed the human, staring at the green humanoid standing next to X.
Heiran began explaining, "I told you, this—"
"Wasn't your idea,” interjected his human boss. “I know. But you're still my top assassin group leader, and in this particular mission, you were following orders from my second-in-command. So, I'm asking again, what the fuck happened?"
"Legazz reinforcements appeared out of nowhere. Following our commander's orders, we aborted the mission, but they cut off our retreat," spoke Heiran. X observed his calm demeanor, thinking he possessed nerves of steel. The assassin continued, "Surrounded and outnumbered, we did our best... We weren't prepared for direct combat. If we had—"
The green humanoid's boss landed a blow to his jaw, sending him tumbling onto the floor, hood flying off in the process. His dark green, bony face with protruding cheekbones and a square jaw, framed by a pair of large tusks, contorted into a stern expression. His lack of a nose aggrandized his monstrous semblance. A single, thick line of deep blue hair ending in a ponytail adorned his skull. X recognized the creature, he had seen one like it before in Saint Jaulea, but that one had fewer intrusive beastly features.
"I don't need your bullshit excuses. Where's Tannen?" demanded the human boss.
"After being injured, he headed into the Long Road," answered Heiran, spitting blood as he stood back up.
His boss made no attempt to hide his anger. "Injured?!"
"I saw blood gushing out from his abdomen, but he walked it off. He should be arriving at North Paramour by now, if everything worked out for him," said the orc assassin.
X realized they were speaking in code, at least when it came to the place names.
"Fuck!" yelled the human.
"These are the risks of our trade," Heiran reminded his boss.
The boss grabbed Heiran by his collar, anger simmered beneath the surface. However, the human knew better than to take his frustration out on an underling, especially one as strong as him. It wasn't the time or place to escalate pending matters.
"We all know that!" The criminal boss released Heiran and addressed the enticed crowd, which had grown quiet at the sight of the punch. "We lost the target, the fucking merchandise, subordinates. Some dead, others... Gods know where or how they are. But all is not lost." He grabbed a steaming cup from the table and took a sip. "You brought us... who?" He put his sights on X. A paltry-looking creature stared back at him.
"I don't know. He followed me into the sewers," answered Heiran.
"He did... Eh. What are you? You don't seem human..." said the boss, studying the elf.
"I'm X the elf," replied X.
"Elf?"
X removed the rags covering his head.
"No shit! You are one. What about the rest of your face?" another being called out from the back.
"Gone for good," responded the redheaded elf.
A slender female humanoid stood up from her seat and approached X with slow, cadenced steps. "Let us see it..." She blew smoke in his face and grazed his chin with her polished nails. The female creature’s fine features harbored a pair of treacherous eyes and caused in X an incipient unease at her subtly failed human facial structure.
“Nah... I’m good," spoke X.
"Too bad... a redheaded elf with golden strands... assuming that’s your original hair color, is more than rare. It’s a first one," remarked the female humanoid.
"Our resident half-elf got curious!" exclaimed a male gnome from the back of the chamber, sitting on a coach.
The female half-elf rolled her eyes at the comment and walked back to her seat, her steps accentuating the jiggle of her naked ass. "Break Tie... do try to contain your jealousy." She inhaled deeply from an elongated crystal container filled with a reddish dust and engraved with strange signs in an unknown language, that lit up every time she puffed from it. Whatever it was, it smelled damn good to X.
Next, a dogoon feralis approached him. "Grrrrrl... The half woof see ain’t that bad. Rrrrr...." She put her left hand-paw over his chest, with her right one she held a dark blue glowing drink. She finished it in one sip.
Similar to the one he met back in Saint Jaulea, dark blue hair covered her body, elongated paws for feet and more human-like fingers on her hands, but with a canine face; a small protruding mouth, thick tongue, dropped ears, and black eyes. She darted back towards the table for another round of the glowing liquid.
"If ruff-ruff survive, then woof can play... Grrrrl... and woof better behave...” growled the dogoon feralis, glancing towards the redheaded elf.
"A fucking elf!" A shirtless man emerged from the veiled cushion-bed. As he fixed his belt, he spoke, "When was the last time we had one?"
"Three... four years ago," replied the gnome.
"She was crazy, but powerful," spoke a figure from the far back.
"We all are," stated X.
"Maybe you are like her, or maybe you’re a bitch elf yearning for mama’s cock as soon as things get tough," sneered the man.
“I hear the voice of experience talking. Do you have another one of those memories to share?” replied X.
Laugher erupted from the crowd. The shirtless man quickly answered back, “Eh? Fucker’s talking back? To me?” He moved closer to the redheaded elf with an aggressive attitude, but his human boss interrupted him. "Whichever is it, you are bait, and as such, the irons," declared the leader of this den of criminals.
Heiran immediately handcuffed X with thick, engraved iron.
"We’re not taking any risk with you," concluded the boss.
"You might want to burn us at midnight, not the first time that would’ve happened," commented the female half-elf.
"Reasonable as this seems... I voice my disagreement," said X, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Those nearby let out a laugh at his remark.
The gnome pulled his mind together and strolled towards X with a sneer, planting both feet firmly before him and spat on the ground. “Well... none of your elf-friends are here to help you now.” The redheaded elf displayed a certain smugness that only served to irritate the gnome further, who continued speaking, "And we'll take care of that shit-eating grin of yours. Soon enough."
Their boss, sitting again on his decrepit throne, spoke up. "With introductions over, now tell us. Why did you come into the sewers? Into Lanaen's territory?"
Cheers, whistling, and shouts erupted from all corners of the lair.
"Our turf! Motherfuckers!"
"Aarrf Arff! We rule in woof territory!"
"Don’t fuck with us!"
"The Band of Lanaen shall rule forever!"
The noise died down when their boss raised his hand. "Don't leave us waiting," he commanded.
"I was fleeing from authority and saw this green one going into the sewers and thought, why not?" stated X.
"Aha... And why were you running from them?" questioned the boss.
"I thought they'd come for me. Better safe than sorry. But I was surprised coming down here... I never expected sewers to actually be your... headquarters. Anyway, now that I'm here I feel like joining your merry band of... circus-freaks," spoke the redheaded elf, looking at the dogoon feralis.
"Grrrr."
A laugh and a sip later, the gnome spoke. "It had to be an elf! Naming us circus-freaks! Fuck you... What do you think we make of you!?"
"Why does everyone take it personally?" the redheaded elf wondered aloud.
At his boss's command, Heiran kicked X in the legs, causing him to fall to his knees. "Ah! Okay... I get it. Jeez..." groaned X.
"You don't seem like a criminally-able kind of elf," remarked the boss.
"He's fucking dying, boss," added the gnome with a smirk plastered across his face.
"Looks can deceive, which helps in my endeavors. I used to run with... my crew... The Silkiran's Three."
"Silkiran?" inquired the female half-elf.
"Like the city," replied X.
"Silifran?" she retorted.
"No... eh... look, we ran as The Silifran Silkiran's Three."
"Never heard of it," growled the gnome.
"Then improve your intel, but I'll admit, we were just small-timers. There were only three of us, yet we managed to dive into some profitable ventures. You know the drill in a bustling metropolis—pickpocketing, easy heists, dominating the streets... one bag here, another there... A prime opportunity for a trio of up-and-coming entrepreneurs. Our goal was to establish ourselves in these underground circles and run with the big gangs, like yours. But things took a turn for the worse... a hard fall... all thanks to a rookie who trusted a woman— female. Can you believe it? This one mistake ended our good fortune, and everyone else paid the ultimate price... except me," spoke X.
Silence enveloped the room, only broken by the distant moans of the endlessly lustful, those who’d swear to die fucking and sucking.
"What a freakish sob story," the shirtless man cracked up.
"Write it down and give it to a bard," suggested the half-elf through a cloud of smoke. "Maybe you can recoup some of your losses."
Everyone laughed at X’s story.
"The fuck we care about that! You're an elf, come on, tell us about paradise!" The gnome stared at the red-headed elf.
"Paradise?" asked X, perplexed.
"Elven tits and asses," replied the gnome, grinning from ear to ear.
"That's the dream!" exclaimed the shirtless man. "Shit! You've got me all horny again."
"Woof always are. Grrrl," interject the dogoon feralis.
"But so uptight," the gnome chimed in.
"And with all those soldiers around, I can't make a move on them in this damn city!" exclaimed the shirtless man.
"Word on the street is... Ravillen's better in that regard," suggested the gnome.
“Then fucking go there and spare us your retardation,” spoke the half-elf.
"Now who's jealous?" retorted the gnome.
"So... how many have you fucked?" the man asked X, but before he could answer, the gnome continued their heated conversation. "It's not like that at all. Elves mate for life... or something equally boring."
"Is that true, Fylian?" asked the man.
“The hell I know... or care. I’m a half-elf, you mouth-breathing asshole,” answered Fylian, rolling her eyes and turning to the gnome. "And are you fucking them or marrying them?"
"I see your point," conceded the gnome.
"Damn it! Wouldn’t we be better off in some human town like Saint Jaulea?” exclaimed the shirtless man.
“Ruuffy? Is it woof lust or arf fucking pixie dust woof keep inhaling up woof arfss that rot woof mind. Arf fuck woof do in a ruffman woofity?” pointed out the dogoon feralis.
"Hell! I can barely understand you when you try to speak human, and it only gets worse with each drink," said the shirtless man, shaking his head.
"Kunia's right," interjected Fylian.
"You understood that?" asked the shirtless man, surprised.
“You freaks are not listening. They have elven prisoners there... just imagine... the possibilities are endless," with a smile on his face and his eyes shining, spoke the gnome.
"Like you could afford to even think about buying a feralis," exclaimed the shirtless man.
"Grrrrrl! Ruuff sell on wooof money!" objected Kunia.
"The non-diseased ones might," spoke the gnome.
“Grrrhrrr! Ruuff got paws to baarf that up?!” Kunia got her claws out, ready to spring into action, but no one paid her any attention.
“Didn’t some serious shit happen there recently, and they got their hands on some new merch?” asked the gnome.
"Fucking uprising or some shit," replied the shirtless man.
"The world's going down a shithole," commented Fylian.
"Then we rise!" yelled the gnome.
"Yeah!" cheered the gathered group of criminals.
The party continued on unabated. For X, it seemed the interview was over. Heiran nodded towards his boss, who waved his hand, signaling that they could leave. The orc took the redheaded elf to the dungeons and locked him in a cold, damp cell.
"Another night in a frozen, dark, and damp dungeon... as long as I don't make a habit of it..." X pondered aloud once alone.
[But you've sure made some new friends. I bet you feel like a fish in water.]
The vision appeared leaning against the wall.
"I do... It's not like criminals are going to stop being criminals just because they have freaking rainbow colors on their drugs and drinks... or have horns, tusks, bizarre ears, paws for feet, or freaking fur... It does make one wonder though."
[Now don't get too philosophical, that ain't you.]