An uneasy night awaited him. X dreamed of his past life, not of home, but the place he survived, fought, and died in. The blood-soaked streets, hot bullet casings, the yells of men running through the jungle, inedible roasted meat in the morning, a truckload of adrenaline surging through his veins, and looking no further than tomorrow. He remembered rolling with his crew and filling with lead anyone who dared to stand before them.
"Those were the days," whispered the redheaded elf.
The scant light in his cell came from a nearby torch, but he couldn't tell what time of day it was.
[Thanks to the Gods you'll never get to do that here.]
Enveloped by shadows, the mirage sprung out into reality.
“A man can try... or whatever a I’m now.”
Nearby voices and footsteps grabbed his attention, and soon after he saw a corpulent, short humanoid bringing him gray sludge on a rusted plate.
"What the hell's that?" questioned X.
"Food," replied the being.
X studied the sludge and shook his head. "Doesn't look like it."
The humanoid gargled and then spat on the dense porridge of noxiousness, "More to your liking?"
"I wasn't hungry anyway."
The dungeon guard dropped the plate, leaving its contents spread on the mossy floor, and disappeared back into the corridor.
The whole day dragged on longer than it should have. No one else came to see him, and he only heard the intermittent burps and snores of his jailer. In the afternoon, the short and corpulent guard returned with another one of their chef's succulent creations.
"Yeah... I'm not eating that," swiftly spoke X.
"Your choice," said the guard.
"Come on! You'd not eat it either. Bring me something recognizable as food. Hey, you..." But his jailer was long gone, taking the sludge with him.
X lay in the darkness, his body resting on cold soil. The dampness of the cell seeped into his bones, and he had lost all sense of time. He knew that he was just waiting for the boss of this sewer to decide what to do with him.
[Some things never change. A prisoner at their mercy while you gave none... Is this your new thing? Getting caught?]
"If I had a functioning body... things would be different. Much different."
[You came willingly down here. What are you looking for? The same fate as last time? Some brotherhood in criminality? Or are you simply that fucked up in the head the promise of excitement tingles your primal impulses, leaving you acting like a junkie looking for his next hit.]
"If you know me this well then why are you asking?"
[You could try something different. If you keep doing the same... Where do you think you’re going to end up?]
"Different? Like getting a job?" He couldn't help but laugh at the thought.
[For one that dislikes work, what you did before sure looked a lot like a job.]
A glittering smile played across X's face as he chuckled. "That you, who always pretends to be so intelligent and thoughtful, can't understand the difference is... disappointing. What I chose was a lifestyle."
[Enjoy it then. Playing in piss and shit, your fate bound to drug-addled freaks. You enjoyed it before, you certainly do now.]
X thought about his answer for a while longer than usual when footsteps and voices interrupted his discourse. Two figures appeared before him, his guardian and the green, slim assassin he had first met.
Heiran's voice echoed through the dungeon, "Get him out."
“Finally... What was the hold up?” muttered X.
The jailer obediently unlocked his cell door, and a lanky figure slowly emerged.
"Judging by your faces... forces higher up have decided my fate," continued X.
"Come out and keep quiet," ordered Heiran.
X’s sluggish motions frustrated his captors.
“Hurry the fuck up! You have been ordered you to come out,” exclaimed his jailer.
“Let me tell you, this is my fastest,” retorted the redheaded elf.
The short, corpulent humanoid grabbed his left arm and forcefully pulled him out.
“Walk,” commanded Herian, pointing towards the stairs at the end of the dungeon corridor.
X found himself being led through the sewers once again, overwhelmed by the putrid odor and cold, slushy water. As they walked further from the center of the sewer system, the number of sentient creatures they saw decreased, and the lighting grew dimmer. The redheaded elf attempted to break the silence and fight his boredom, nausea, and hunger by striking up conversation.
"You all like living in the sewers?" he asked.
Silence.
"Don’t get me wrong, when you need to run from authority, it’s all or nothing. But the sewers, really? Criminals in this world... huh. I wasn’t expecting riches, but at least not freaking crap water," he finished as he kicked the gray water lapping at his feet, only managing to make a few ripples.
"Do you ever shut up?" questioned the orc.
"Hey, I’m only trying to forget where I am, so I don’t puke my guts out," replied X.
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Heiran turned a menacing gaze towards the elf.
“Don’t look at me like that, I just feel deceived. I expected... whatever, it doesn’t matter.”
They kept trudging through the stale excrement, X’s feet growing heavier with each step, until they exited the sewers. A thick fog filled the streets, illuminated by the violet light of two full moons. As he emerged from the putrid fumes that had been driving him mad, he was met with a gust of fresh, dry, cold air. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relishing in the untainted oxygen that filled his lungs.
Behind him, two strange beasts stood growling. They resembled a cross between reptiles and deep-sea creatures, ones that should never have seen the light of day. A depressing purple tone coated their scaly bodies. Their teeth were sharp and crooked, and their eight yellow eyes were trained on X. He gazed back at them. The beasts' mouths drooled a thick, bluish liquid, and their tails swung back and forth in agitation. Of all the peculiar creatures he had encountered, these two were the most grotesque, eliciting a sneer of disdain from him. The beasts growled even more agitatedly in response.
“You there, don’t provoke my rippers!” A chubby man sat at the helm of the carriage, pulling back on the reins of the snarling beasts hitched to it.
The redheaded elf felt a push from behind followed by Heiran’s orders, "Get into the carriage."
With every moment to spare, X climbed into the black carriage. Inside, four dark-clothed figures sat in silence. Their hoods concealed their faces, but he could sense their deformations threatening to lunge into view at the slightest provocation.
"Luckily, your hoods hide your malformed faces," spoke X, testing the waters to see if anyone would break the silence.
Only one being in the farthest corner responded. A feminine voice muttered, "Fuck you too," without raising her head.
He sat in a free space between two of those statue-like figures. Heiren climbed into the carriage after him and took a seat opposite him, raising his voice, "Get us moving, Seijen!"
The rippers' handler snorted at them, and the carriage lurched forward, making its way through the secluded streets. Silifran lay resting and quiet as they crossed its deserted roads. The only beings spit out by the mist were patrolling elven soldiers, who were promptly absorbed back into its fold.
Everyone in the carriage remained silent, hunched over with arms crossed to fight off the cold. X tried to get a glimpse of the sentient creatures around him but found no opening in their dark clothing. He cleared his throat and was about to speak, when the figure sitting next to him suddenly took out a knife and pressed it against his stomach.
"Squeet up. Any word from now oink, and I'll sleeat your stomach," uttered a high-pitched, feminine voice.
A snout poked out from under her hood, jerking up and down as she spoke. X thanked the heavens that he couldn't see the rest of her face and surprised himself that he could understand most of her devolved speech. Not that he needed to, it was clear from the sharp object pressed against his abdomen that she wanted him to keep his mouth shut.
The carriage came to a stop, and voices could be heard approaching. “Officers of the realm, speaking in our High King’s stead, demand to see your documents, load, and state your business.”
The elven soldier’s captain stood at the front, speaking with Seijen, while two soldiers inspected the carriage and its load. Five passengers and four chests, two on top and two at the rear, comprised their precious cargo.
One of the soldiers peered inside the carriage, his gaze meeting X's. The soldier looked familiar, but with his helmet on, all the elves looked quite the same to the redheaded elf. In that moment, X felt a hard pinch on his right arm and turned around, but saw the hooded, statue-like figures sitting in place.
“Isn’t it too late to go out on a vacation trip?” asked one of the elven soldiers.
“Younglins... so impatient,” replied Heiran.
X could hear the captain continuing to talk to Seijen, the driver of the carriage. Moments later the soldiers backed off.
“Alright, let them pass,” ordered one of them.
Seijen hissed at his rippers, and the carriage began moving again. They safely passed through Silifran’s gates.
"Hoooly shit! This alwaaays gets on my neeerves," a male voice bleated and baaed, sending shivers down X's spine as he wondered about the hidden horrors awaiting him.
"Someday those fuckers are going to stop taking our bribes," spoke the feminine voice that had answered X’s greetings earlier.
"Well, it was not today,” Heiran said calmly.
"Buuut fucking bait, don’t gaaaze into the soldiers," the creature baaed again.
X barely raised his eyebrows at the creature and yawned. How could five hooded figures not arouse suspicion? X might've been many things, but an amateur he was not. Tired, he turned his gaze outside the carriage. It was difficult to spot the hills under the cover of darkness. The city that had readily sucked him in had spat him out into the wild once more, heading to an unknown and most probably dangerous destination.
"What's the deal this time, Heiran?" asked the normal feminine voice.
"We're hitting Dureld," replied the assassin orc.
“Iiisn't that dwarven plaaace abandoned?!” The baas no longer disgusted the elf as much.
"Not anymore," answered Heiran.
“Squeeally? Whoink’s there now?” inquired the female creature with a snout.
"A small human outpost," said the orc.
“Howink small?”
"One company."
“Hooow the fuck is thaaat small?” bleated one of the hooded figure.
"Most of their forces were recalled today for the Nistram offensive," stated Heiran.
“Soink, what’s the squealan?” Even concealed under the hood, her piggish voice sent X’s imagination roaring.
"Go in, go fast, get information on whatever they're doing inside—" Heiran was saying when the the pig-sounding female let out a snort of displeasure. "Oink!? We'll have to squealy enter the caves?"
Heiran nodded. "No reason not to when the entrance gates have been already forced open."
"You for real? I hate fucking dungeons. Especially dwarven-made," said the normal-sounding female, not hiding the frustration in her voice.
“Yeeeah yeah, whatever. Can’t you fuuucks ask the important questions? Hooow much will we get paaaid?” baaed another of the hooded figures.
"Twenty-five gold coins each," answered Heiran.
“Not bad. Oink. Seems good as long as squealing’s accurate.” More snorts and grunts followed.
“Do weee get to plunder the dwaaarves’ throne room?” inquired the baaing creature.
“Yoink believe the rumors?” replied the piggish voice.
“The caaaptain brought not only one buuut two baits.”
X looked around. “Who are you talking about? Can’t see them.” In that moment, he realized they meant to use them as literal bait.
“If there’s a possibility of this information being accurate... well, fuck it, let’s go for it,” spoke the normal feminine voice.
“We’ll see,” said Heiren, staring at her.
“So... what are baits used in this... ah... mission you’re undertaking?” asked X.
“You’ll see.” Herian’s eyes landed on him.
X sat in silence, his mind racing as he frantically searched for a way to survive the unknown fate his captors had planned for him. However, his weary and famished body had other plans, and he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open.
[Nice friends you’ve got yourself...]
As he drifted off, he could swear his eternal shadow watched him with a razor-sharp smile, taunting him with its smug and sardonic grin.
X thought of his current predicament as poetic justice. Perhaps his fate had always been to be killed by other criminals. While this realization didn’t surprise him, and he refused to shed a tear over it, what truly irked him was his shadow’s smirk, imagined or otherwise. Haunting him from deepest recesses of his own mind.
Despite his determination to stay awake and extract more information from his mysterious captors, his body had other plans, and he succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion, slipping into a deep sleep.