Chapter 60
charclone
Well-known member
Richard tried not to stare as Giselle wolfed down her own body weight in food.
His own half-finished meat pie was forgotten as she downed whatever was on the table, ordering seconds between bites. Salads, sausages, meat fillets, and even a roasted chicken were torn apart before his eyes, vanishing down the blue draconian's gullet, washed down with what he knew was a relatively expensive beer from Canada.
After several moments, and several meals' worth of food gone, he interjected.
"I take it you don't get to eat very often?"
She paused a whole baked potato, still steaming, halfway to her mouth. She coughed lightly, though Richard wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or simply because of how fast she had been eating. She certainly didn't seem to care about her image.
Then again, Rory didn't care much either, not that she needed to, what with her ability to bisect a man with her strength and giant halberd.
"Hardy sends me out to so many places," She groaned, slumping in her chair. The potato vanished in a few bites before she continued. "I can't starve, but it sucks feeling your stomach be empty. Not that she cares. It's always 'Go and stand on top of this canyon for three months, and don't leave until I say.' or 'Guard this temple for three years. No, there isn't any food inside.'"
Giselle picked at her food.
"At least here I get decent food," She grumbled. "I don't recognise some of it. It's from the other side of the Gate, then?"
Richard frowned, nodding.
"Yes, some of it is. The beer for example," He said, before changing the subject. "I get the impression you don't like me."
Giselle flinched.
"…no," She admitted, sighing. "I… my kind live longer than humans. Because of that, I was passed over for promotion in the priesthood, for decades. I had friends that started lower than me, and died as leaders of temples."
"So, being told to obey a mortal reminds you of that, which you dislike?"
Giselle snorted, her wings twitching in the process.
"Fuck no," She gave a toothy grin, displaying her inhuman dentition. "I hate being under mortals, who should be cowering before my power."
Richard raised an eyebrow at her bravado, noting the faint hollow tone in her voice. He said nothing, finishing his meat pie.
Any further conversation was interrupted by a member of the long patrol storming into the establishment.
"Sir Richard, there is a merchant at the gate to the town," The wolfman in chainmail breathlessly said. "An argument started, and several others are accusing him of owning slaves."
Richard groaned.
"Not this crap again," He stood from the chair. "Bet it's that feud again,"
As he left, he told a server that he would be back.
Giselle stood, hesitating to glance at Richard's retreating form as it disappeared out the door, and the food still on the table.
A hand grasped her wing.
Giselle flinched, both at the crushing grip and at the strength behind the small hand.
"Sister," Giselle gasped out. "Is there something you need?"
"Sit," Rory smiled. "He'll be back. But I'd like a word with you, first."
Giselle glanced at the older demigod suspiciously.
"You have something on your face," Rory said, still smiling, as she sat down in Richard's seat. Her smile became gentler for a moment, as Giselle wiped water from her eyes. "Now, what is going on!?"
Several heads turned to look at the pair. After a moment, all but the marines Rory had been sitting with glanced away, unwilling to attract the ire of a pair of demigods.
"Emroy and Hardy are working together, gods are drawing dividing lines," Rory hissed, leaning over the table, both hands pressed onto its surface. "There is a new god that has been born, one with power over Apocryph. What. Is Going. On.?"
Giselle blinked, shrugging.
"I don't know," She admitted with a huff. "After the dragon was killed, Hardy berated me, and sent me off here."
Rory glared. Silence hung between them, before Rory gave in, hanging her head with a huff.
"And this is why you are an errand girl," She jabbed without heat. "Fine."
As Rory got up to leave, she paused.
"By the way, what exactly did Hardy order you to do, regarding Richard?"
"Erm," Stammered Giselle, before glancing to the side. "I was to serve him and aid in his efforts."
Rory laughed.
"Well, you don't have to worry about him… using you like a follower of Miritta," She said, her tone teasing. "He seems devoted to Tara and his culture doesn't permit multiple wives nor accept mistresses. He won't approach you unless you seem interested."
"I'm not. Not my type, not enough scales," Giselle relaxed.
"By the way, you do plan on paying for half of the meal, don't you?" Rory's grin became sharkish.
Giselle frowned, confused.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Part of a… Terran courting ritual," Rory explained, leaving out details for her amusement. "They call it a 'date', and in it, one, usually the man, pays for the meal. He and Tara have gone on several already, I believe."
Giselle felt dread bubble up in her stomach.
If she caused problems with Richard's courting of this 'Tara', Hardy would be mad at her, for creating trouble for Richard, against orders. Even if she was lucky, and it caused no problems, she had no interest in Richard.
She had already noted, with the way people deferred to Rory, that the town was her territory, likely due to her assistance in building it. That meant that there were no temples to Hardy she could borrow money from. That left money lenders.
She glanced at the food. The large amount of food, that she had ordered and eaten.
She glanced at Rory, already back with the Marines, laughing about something.
"Uh, oh."
Yao Haa Dushi was at a loss.
The Fire Dragon was dead at the hands of NATO. Exactly what her tribe's elders had desired her to achieve.
But she had failed to do anything. She was not so stupid as to lie, claiming credit for ensuring it happened, and while the elders had not explicitly exiled her, her foul luck was well known, as was her mission.
The diamond, a treasure of her tribe, sent with her to achieve her goals through payment, hung heavy at her side in its pouch. Between it and her body, it was hoped that the dragon's death could be bought.
She couldn't go back in failure.
Worse, her attempts to award the dragonslayers had been blocked. Bureaucracy was not unknown to the dark elves, from their dealings with Saderan traders and mercenary work, but she had been shocked to learn that slavery was outlawed and that there was a lengthy process to awards.
The NATO officer she had spoken with had been sympathetic and had established some allowances for her, such as a room in an inn. The head-sized diamond had not been explicitly refused, but the officer had explained that it was not a simple matter, given the number of people that were involved, NATO's policies, and the fact that it had been a force composed of a mix of several nations' soldiers and citizens that had slain the beast.
In the end, it left her stuck in the town while the issue was resolved.
She was being housed as an emissary, but once the matter of the diamond was dealt with, Yao was unsure of what would happen to her. The tribe would not want her back, even with their depleted numbers. Few female dark elves were accepted as mercenaries, even with her skills with bow, blade, and magic.
She blinked as an elf, dressed in a red coat with black pants, sat next to her in the bar.
Unlike her dark complexion, this elf was fair-skinned, possibly a wood or high elf.
She gave Yao a nod, before ordering a drink.
"That's… that is an otherworlder uniform," She said, frowning as she heard a slight slur in her voice. Perhaps she had gotten deeper into her cups than she had realised. Or the otherworlder drinks were stronger. "Sorry, just…" She hiccupped. "Just trying to figure out my life."
The other elf smiled.
"I understand," She said. "Most of my village was destroyed by a Fire Dragon. Only a few others survived. Hodor, his daughter, and a few others. We only survived because of NATO soldiers, from the Canadian 4th Division. They drove off the Dragon, wounding it."
Yao nodded sympathetically.
"It had slain most of my tribe," She explained. "I was sent to get help from NATO when we first heard about them, but when I got here, I saw the corpse being flown to the Gate, carried by one of those metal birds."
"Helicopter, they call them," The elf explained. "I take it you don't have anything to go back to?"
"I was… told to use whatever I could to get their help," Yao said. "Including a treasure of the tribe and my body."
"But NATO outlawed slavery," The elf noted. "So, you were exiled? Why?"
Yao considered how to answer.
"Bad luck. It… harmed everyone close to me," She said morosely, ordering another drink. "Three boyfriends, taken by either my best friend, chance, and the dragon. Then there are all the times I ruined a hunt or was ambushed by the dragon, being one of the few survivors."
The high elf, based on her accent, winced.
"Well, the Long Patrol is hiring," She suggested. "There are only a few elves that have joined, most former Saderan slaves that were freed or escaped."
"The Long Patrol?"
"Sir Richard's personal forces," The elf grinned. "You heard about the Black Knight that drove the Saderans from Sacred Alnus? He was also one to wound the Fire Dragon."
Yao bolted from her seat.
"What about my luck? How long would it be for?"
The high elf waved her hands at the tide of questions.
"One at a time please," She said. "From what I have heard, it is for six years, renewed every four if you want to stay in. I even am being considered for an officer slot. And it would be nice to have a few more elves. There are so many humans and Warrior Bunnies joining."
Yao bit her lip.
"I'll… consider it."
His own half-finished meat pie was forgotten as she downed whatever was on the table, ordering seconds between bites. Salads, sausages, meat fillets, and even a roasted chicken were torn apart before his eyes, vanishing down the blue draconian's gullet, washed down with what he knew was a relatively expensive beer from Canada.
After several moments, and several meals' worth of food gone, he interjected.
"I take it you don't get to eat very often?"
She paused a whole baked potato, still steaming, halfway to her mouth. She coughed lightly, though Richard wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or simply because of how fast she had been eating. She certainly didn't seem to care about her image.
Then again, Rory didn't care much either, not that she needed to, what with her ability to bisect a man with her strength and giant halberd.
"Hardy sends me out to so many places," She groaned, slumping in her chair. The potato vanished in a few bites before she continued. "I can't starve, but it sucks feeling your stomach be empty. Not that she cares. It's always 'Go and stand on top of this canyon for three months, and don't leave until I say.' or 'Guard this temple for three years. No, there isn't any food inside.'"
Giselle picked at her food.
"At least here I get decent food," She grumbled. "I don't recognise some of it. It's from the other side of the Gate, then?"
Richard frowned, nodding.
"Yes, some of it is. The beer for example," He said, before changing the subject. "I get the impression you don't like me."
Giselle flinched.
"…no," She admitted, sighing. "I… my kind live longer than humans. Because of that, I was passed over for promotion in the priesthood, for decades. I had friends that started lower than me, and died as leaders of temples."
"So, being told to obey a mortal reminds you of that, which you dislike?"
Giselle snorted, her wings twitching in the process.
"Fuck no," She gave a toothy grin, displaying her inhuman dentition. "I hate being under mortals, who should be cowering before my power."
Richard raised an eyebrow at her bravado, noting the faint hollow tone in her voice. He said nothing, finishing his meat pie.
Any further conversation was interrupted by a member of the long patrol storming into the establishment.
"Sir Richard, there is a merchant at the gate to the town," The wolfman in chainmail breathlessly said. "An argument started, and several others are accusing him of owning slaves."
Richard groaned.
"Not this crap again," He stood from the chair. "Bet it's that feud again,"
As he left, he told a server that he would be back.
Giselle stood, hesitating to glance at Richard's retreating form as it disappeared out the door, and the food still on the table.
A hand grasped her wing.
Giselle flinched, both at the crushing grip and at the strength behind the small hand.
"Sister," Giselle gasped out. "Is there something you need?"
"Sit," Rory smiled. "He'll be back. But I'd like a word with you, first."
Giselle glanced at the older demigod suspiciously.
"You have something on your face," Rory said, still smiling, as she sat down in Richard's seat. Her smile became gentler for a moment, as Giselle wiped water from her eyes. "Now, what is going on!?"
Several heads turned to look at the pair. After a moment, all but the marines Rory had been sitting with glanced away, unwilling to attract the ire of a pair of demigods.
"Emroy and Hardy are working together, gods are drawing dividing lines," Rory hissed, leaning over the table, both hands pressed onto its surface. "There is a new god that has been born, one with power over Apocryph. What. Is Going. On.?"
Giselle blinked, shrugging.
"I don't know," She admitted with a huff. "After the dragon was killed, Hardy berated me, and sent me off here."
Rory glared. Silence hung between them, before Rory gave in, hanging her head with a huff.
"And this is why you are an errand girl," She jabbed without heat. "Fine."
As Rory got up to leave, she paused.
"By the way, what exactly did Hardy order you to do, regarding Richard?"
"Erm," Stammered Giselle, before glancing to the side. "I was to serve him and aid in his efforts."
Rory laughed.
"Well, you don't have to worry about him… using you like a follower of Miritta," She said, her tone teasing. "He seems devoted to Tara and his culture doesn't permit multiple wives nor accept mistresses. He won't approach you unless you seem interested."
"I'm not. Not my type, not enough scales," Giselle relaxed.
"By the way, you do plan on paying for half of the meal, don't you?" Rory's grin became sharkish.
Giselle frowned, confused.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Part of a… Terran courting ritual," Rory explained, leaving out details for her amusement. "They call it a 'date', and in it, one, usually the man, pays for the meal. He and Tara have gone on several already, I believe."
Giselle felt dread bubble up in her stomach.
If she caused problems with Richard's courting of this 'Tara', Hardy would be mad at her, for creating trouble for Richard, against orders. Even if she was lucky, and it caused no problems, she had no interest in Richard.
She had already noted, with the way people deferred to Rory, that the town was her territory, likely due to her assistance in building it. That meant that there were no temples to Hardy she could borrow money from. That left money lenders.
She glanced at the food. The large amount of food, that she had ordered and eaten.
She glanced at Rory, already back with the Marines, laughing about something.
"Uh, oh."
Yao Haa Dushi was at a loss.
The Fire Dragon was dead at the hands of NATO. Exactly what her tribe's elders had desired her to achieve.
But she had failed to do anything. She was not so stupid as to lie, claiming credit for ensuring it happened, and while the elders had not explicitly exiled her, her foul luck was well known, as was her mission.
The diamond, a treasure of her tribe, sent with her to achieve her goals through payment, hung heavy at her side in its pouch. Between it and her body, it was hoped that the dragon's death could be bought.
She couldn't go back in failure.
Worse, her attempts to award the dragonslayers had been blocked. Bureaucracy was not unknown to the dark elves, from their dealings with Saderan traders and mercenary work, but she had been shocked to learn that slavery was outlawed and that there was a lengthy process to awards.
The NATO officer she had spoken with had been sympathetic and had established some allowances for her, such as a room in an inn. The head-sized diamond had not been explicitly refused, but the officer had explained that it was not a simple matter, given the number of people that were involved, NATO's policies, and the fact that it had been a force composed of a mix of several nations' soldiers and citizens that had slain the beast.
In the end, it left her stuck in the town while the issue was resolved.
She was being housed as an emissary, but once the matter of the diamond was dealt with, Yao was unsure of what would happen to her. The tribe would not want her back, even with their depleted numbers. Few female dark elves were accepted as mercenaries, even with her skills with bow, blade, and magic.
She blinked as an elf, dressed in a red coat with black pants, sat next to her in the bar.
Unlike her dark complexion, this elf was fair-skinned, possibly a wood or high elf.
She gave Yao a nod, before ordering a drink.
"That's… that is an otherworlder uniform," She said, frowning as she heard a slight slur in her voice. Perhaps she had gotten deeper into her cups than she had realised. Or the otherworlder drinks were stronger. "Sorry, just…" She hiccupped. "Just trying to figure out my life."
The other elf smiled.
"I understand," She said. "Most of my village was destroyed by a Fire Dragon. Only a few others survived. Hodor, his daughter, and a few others. We only survived because of NATO soldiers, from the Canadian 4th Division. They drove off the Dragon, wounding it."
Yao nodded sympathetically.
"It had slain most of my tribe," She explained. "I was sent to get help from NATO when we first heard about them, but when I got here, I saw the corpse being flown to the Gate, carried by one of those metal birds."
"Helicopter, they call them," The elf explained. "I take it you don't have anything to go back to?"
"I was… told to use whatever I could to get their help," Yao said. "Including a treasure of the tribe and my body."
"But NATO outlawed slavery," The elf noted. "So, you were exiled? Why?"
Yao considered how to answer.
"Bad luck. It… harmed everyone close to me," She said morosely, ordering another drink. "Three boyfriends, taken by either my best friend, chance, and the dragon. Then there are all the times I ruined a hunt or was ambushed by the dragon, being one of the few survivors."
The high elf, based on her accent, winced.
"Well, the Long Patrol is hiring," She suggested. "There are only a few elves that have joined, most former Saderan slaves that were freed or escaped."
"The Long Patrol?"
"Sir Richard's personal forces," The elf grinned. "You heard about the Black Knight that drove the Saderans from Sacred Alnus? He was also one to wound the Fire Dragon."
Yao bolted from her seat.
"What about my luck? How long would it be for?"
The high elf waved her hands at the tide of questions.
"One at a time please," She said. "From what I have heard, it is for six years, renewed every four if you want to stay in. I even am being considered for an officer slot. And it would be nice to have a few more elves. There are so many humans and Warrior Bunnies joining."
Yao bit her lip.
"I'll… consider it."