Toxic As Hell (Closed)

Quain listened to his thoughts closely, deciding to gradually retract her magic when he started to question his lustful thoughts. Better for him to be confused about his desires than suspicious. Though, she kept her hip sway, acting like it was just her normal walk, and it honestly wasn’t far off from it anyway.

She led him across the street and into another alley. Then, when they were at the entrance to the main street, Quain hesitated, taking deep breaths to ‘calm her nerves’. Though, she was actually just getting her bearings.

“It… it’s not far from here,”she commented shakily, as if to placate him in case he got angry at her.

When she finally seemed to calm herself, Quain ventured out into the street, turning toward where the Dancing Shade would be. A few minutes later, Quain stopped in front of the one-story building. It seemed tiny compared to the taller two-story inns flanking it, but Quain knew well that the place went underground a few levels deeper than most of the buildings on Main Street.

“This is it. W… what happens now?”she asked quietly, her voice quivering.

Quain looked at Saul warily as he spoke, but she nodded. She then took a few deep breaths, his calmer demeanor seeming to soothe her a bit.

As they stood in front of the Dancing Shade, Quain noticed his skeptical look. She bit her lip nervously, but it also, without her even trying, seemed alluring.

“It… it’s a lot bigger than… than it looks, s… so I’ve been told,”she mentioned timidly.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing in the direction of her shop, then she turned back to him.

“It’s… not a tent. It’s my shop. The only place you’ll find tents would be in the Desert Region, which is almost on the other side of the world. Just… just so you know. But, I… I can go in with you, if that’s w… what you want. It might be better anyway, since I… I’m a dancer,”Quain said, never really meeting his eyes.

Quain noticed his gaze, that hungry look in his eye. She acted utterly oblivious to the look, but, inwardly, she was eagerly anticipating what he might do later. She then nodded in wary agreement to his words.

“Many buildings in Naskeni, this city, extend underground. I think that… that this one is one of those,”she mentioned.

She started to speak, about to fully commit to going inside with him, then he snatched her hand and pulled her into the alley. Oh, by Falbahaddon’s white eyes! She hadn’t necessarily thought he’d act on his desires so soon!

She froze when he kissed her, her surprise not an act this time. She then couldn’t help a quiet moan escaping her when he touched her hips. When was the last time she’d been with a man? A while, most likely.

Then, he was gone. Damn it! Why’d he stop?

He then started apologizing. Well… she could work with that, even if it was a bit disappointing.

Quain stared blankly at him for a long moment, then turned away, shyness in her expression.

“I… I um… I think we should head inside now,”she said quietly, biting her lip in that same nervous but alluring way.

She didn’t move for a moment, then she slowly made her way out of the alley. Before she rounded the corner, she looked back to make sure Saul was following, her demeanor less frightened and more shy now.

(Lol! Well… that’s if you count the dice game as an actual kiss, snickers)

And now, the lust. This is going quite well, so far. But, I must remember subtlety. I want this seedling to grow a bit before it withers into the perfect sacrifice.

Quain kept her shy expression going, even though she was inwardly celebrating. At his apology, she only nodded, seemingly a bit lost. Then, when he smiled, she flashed a, very breif, timid smile back.

Quain continued toward the door of the Dancing Shade, stepping inside. The place was eerily dim, with most of the windows blocked by dark panels. Lanterns spotted the club, all glowing a strange grey. Everything from the walls to the chairs were painted in grey scale.

Most of the people in the club were human-like with grey skin, solid yellow eyes, and stretched features, the Shadowfolk. Many of them turned at Quain’s entrance, but, seeing her outfit, either went back to their business or eyed her with interest.

One of the more notable set of eyes on her was from a Shadowfolk man toward the back of the club. He was dressed in fancy dark blue and purple clothes with dark brown highlights. The lower half of his shoulder-length, white hair seemed to have been dipped in purple dye. He was lounging comfortably in his chair, two burly Shadowfolk flanking him like guards, and he held an elaborate wineglass, sipping from it occasionally as he watched Quain with an odd intensity.

Quain looked around timidly, acting like it was the first time she’d ever been inside the club. Though, it most certainly wasn’t the first time. Which was why Evaen, the fancy Shadowfolk, was watching her. She’d ‘entertained’ him a few times in the past, and he was quite fond of her, but he was also very suspicious of her religious beliefs. That little detail would be taken care of soon though, by an unwitting, greiving man. Maybe it would be a permanent solution, or maybe not, but Evaen would know better than to question her when she and Saul were done.

As Quain walked, she kept her senses tuned to Saul. She could feel his caution, then his discomfort. He didn’t like that she was being stared at. Good. Very good.

A few moments later, she sensed his lust, and was already expecting his approach when he took her hand and whispered in her ear. Quain couldn’t resist a shiver of anticipation coursing through her, but she made sure to keep her face innocent, like the confused and conflicted pretty girl that Saul thought her to be.

Then, after a seeming moment to make up her mind, Quain turned to look at him directly. She then gently freed her hand and raised both to cradle his face. Her eyes gazed into his, soft but somehow intense, with a hypnotic pull that would easily suck the poor man into the depths of Quain’s magic.

“Yes, when we’re safe. But, right now, I need you to protect me. All of these people… they hurt your dear friend… and they’re going to be coming for me next. I can’t explain it, but I… just feel it. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to feel any more pain,”she whispered, gazing deeply into his eyes as she spoke, her voice wavering as if she was truly afraid for her life.

Evaen straightened as he watched the pair, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He then waved at his two guards and they approached the pair. The bulky men walked with confidence, their hands not even near their weapons as they approached.

“Protect me,”Quain whispered, her voice echoing in his mind as she let go of him.

As her fingers slid off of Saul, she was confident that he would see everyone in the club as a threat, even if only a few actually were. Quain wanted a massacre, and everything was falling into place for that very thing to happen.

Quain felt and heard his every thought, and was so pleased by it all. He was captivated. He was caught. He was hers. From his relief at her acceptance to his steadily growing hatred for the Shadowfolk. And, a little bonus, was how he heard Farah instead of her. Yes, things were progressing nicely. Falbahaddon would be pleased.

Quain shrank behind Saul as the guards approached. Then, when Saul drew his blade and snapped at them, they froze. They looked to Evaen for orders.

Evaen stood up at that, his expression stern. The entire club went eerily quiet as he did, as Evaen almost never rose from his seat unless he had a woman in his arms.

“Weapons are to remain sheathed in my club at all times. If you don’t put that sword away, I will drag you out myself,”Evaen hissed at Saul.

He then turned to Quain.

“Been a long time since your last visit. Why are you here, Quain?”he asked, almost spitting the word ‘visit’.

“Helping a friend,”she said softly, meekly, despite remaining composed. Though, she subtly leaned toward Saul, as if she was hiding how uncomfortable she was.

Evaen looked at Saul again.

“Really? By bringing him here to start a fight?”

“If you force him to fight, that’s your fault, not mine,”Quain replied.

“Bullshit.”

Many of the Shadowfolk around the club started to approach, hands on weapons. Guards then moved to block all of the doors. They were trapped.

Quain looked around, noticing the movements. She then looked at Saul, her eyes pleading with him.

Evaen’s eyes narrowed.

“You damned witch! Is that how you do it? Guards, restrain them and blindfold her!”

The two guards started forward again, brandishing their weapons. The crowd closed in as well. Quain looked around, a soft whimper coming forth from her, loud enough only for Saul to hear.

Evaen was smart enough to catch the white-knuckled grip Saul had on his swords. He was also smart enough to see the look in the man’s eyes and know that he had become a target of a vengeful, maddened warrior. A fair fight wasn’t an option.

Evaen snorted at Saul’s words, then watched the man stare at Quain. He kept a close eye on the pair, recognizing that Quain’s claws were already sinking too deep into the man. Soon, he’d likely be a lost cause.

Fortunately, as the situation degraded, his patrons rallied around him. Evaen was the leader of an assassin guild. And, this club was his headquarters. Quain knew that, and had never liked it, though she’d never actually voiced her opinion. But, he knew of her distaste of his guild, and of him personally. He didn’t exactly know why, but regardless, Evaen suspected that this was her way of removing them from her equation. Fucking cultists.

Evaen watched Saul as he lashed out, watched the crowd flinch away from him. He then watched as he lunged. His bodyguards were good, but they weren’t assassins, nor expecting a seasoned warrior’s attack. The one guard was quickly disarmed, while the other rushed to flank Saul. A good strategy, but Evaen needed a better tactic.

Shouting in his native tongue, he ordered the crowd to rush Quain, to distract Saul. If they could split them apart, maybe annihilation would be averted.

Unfortunately, Evaen didn’t know that Quain understood every word. She quickly prayed in her mind, casting a spell that would let Saul understand Evaen’s words as well, and adding a twist to it. It would seem to Saul that Evaen was just shouting in the Common language, when he actually wasn’t.

The crowd charged forward, moving to split the couple apart. Quain telepathically reached forward and caused a couple of the front folks to trip on their own feet and fall. Those behind them stumbled and slowed, trampling their fallen companions.

(Forgive me if it’s a bit vague. I’m not too good with crowd battles, lol)

The guard Saul stabbed doubled over in pain, then crumpled to the floor. It proved how useless he was. Evaen would never listen to someone else’s advice again, no matter how powerful they were.

Then, the other guard managed to dodge Saul’s strike and he lunged in retaliation, sword aimed for his opponent’s shoulder. If he survived that attack, Evaen might keep him… might.

Though, as Saul reacted to his orders, moving closer to Quain, even grabbing her, Evaen knew he’d underestimated the witch. She either understood him, or had magic that allowed her to, and she was sharing it. No use in language barriers then. Fuck.

The crowd continued to swarm around the pair, but they slowed, caught off guard by Saul’s actions. Though, some of the men were more than happy to try to snatch Quain away. She flinched, moving to avoid them, but they were all around, and many were slashing at both of them without care.

Unknown to most of the people in the club, fog was starting to spread across the floor, covering people’s feet and slowing everyone but Quain and Saul. Evaen was among those that saw it and he moved back to stand on his chair, wary of the fog. If he had been suspicious of Quain before, he was certain now. Falbahaddon favored her.

The guard quickly realized his mistake when Saul dodged his strike. He then yelped in pain at Saul’s attack, retaliating by swiping at Saul’s right hip, feinting, and slashing at his left shoulder.

Two of the men that caught Saul’s attack lost a hand, and all but one of the others lost fingers. Then, with very few aware of it, the fog spreading on the floor started to swirl around the wounded men’s feet. As if on cue, the people closest to the wounded men launched at them, beating them to death then attacking each other. No one, except Evaen and a couple women in the back of the crowd, realized that something was off.

Quain couldn’t help a sadistic laugh as she watched the men getting pummeled to death. She could also feel the fog against her feet as well, thick and cold, and so inviting. She gave a quick kiss to Saul’s ear, lingering afterward.

“Thank you,”she whispered, both grateful and seductive.

Evaen stayed perched on his chair, watching warily as he loaded a poisoned dart into a hand crossbow. He then waited patiently, expecting the crowd to thin pretty soon.

The man gasped as Saul cut into him. He dropped his sword, crumpling to his knees and trying to cradle his wound. The fog seemed to curl around him, reaching upward and seeping into his wounds. Blood poured faster, darker, and the man’s body became septic within seconds of being touched by the fog. He collapsed onto his side, dead moments later, his body already starting to rot.

Quain, who was still listening in to Saul’s thoughts, was quite pleased by his determination to murder everyone in the tavern if he had to. That was Quain’s plan, after all. Evaen’s assassin guild was getting in her way, and Saul was proving to be the perfect weapon against them. Even if half the tavern folk weren’t in the guild, it still took out the leader and headquarters of it in one shot.

Though, as she moved to kiss his ear, she sensed his fear about the fear about the fog. Quain didn’t move away from the fog, instead brushing a comforting hand along Saul’s shoulder just before she kissed his ear.

His reaction was so, so pleasing. It brought up so many temptations, and the fog swirling around her feet only encouraged her more. She had his blessing. Her beloved Dreaded One was enjoying her show of tormenting Saul and turning him into a weapon. And, that sanction alone could have brought her to her knees in ecstasy if she wasn’t still focused on the battle raging around her.

Saul’s movements brought her out of her thoughts, and his words made her smile.

“I am. Thanks to you,”she purred softly.

Her hand gently slid down his arm. Her touch was featherlight, grateful and innocent, with a hint of desire. Not enough to be overwhelmingly obvious, but enough that Saul would notice.

Meanwhile, the crowd was steadily thinning. The fog seemed to have brought out the worst in everyone, and many folks were fighting like rabid animals instead of warriors.

Evaen, along with two women and a man, were the only ones unaffected. The other three moved along the edges of the crowd, fighting off their feral kinsmen on their way to join Evaen.

Before getting to Evaen, one of the women was dragged down and beaten half to death before the second woman could react. She quickly killed the first woman’s attackers, but unfortunately couldn’t help her friend, so she made a swift retreat toward Evaen. And, there she stood, assessing the scene with the same calculating gaze as the two men beside her.

The crowd then parted for just a minute, and Evaen lifted his loaded crossbow, aimed, and fired at the distracted Saul.

Quain noted Saul’s continued awareness of the battle around, and couldn’t help appreciating that. She could always use a good warrior. Maybe… maybe… she might consider asking her beloved god if she could keep this man. An enforcer devoted to her would be perfect in keeping some of her subordinates in line. But, that depended on how things in the club ended.

His thoughts and grin pleased her immensely, and her idea became even more appealing. A warrior slave… and one wholly devoted to her, maybe even in several ways… It would be a shame to miss such an opportunity.

Unfortunately, they were still in a fight. Which was proven by the flash of a tiny crossbow bolt heading their way. Quain started to whisper a quick spell, but Saul reacted quicker.

He pulled her close and jumped. She hadn’t even realized they were near a wall until Saul pushed her back against it. A soft gasp escaped her and her heart immediately raced. For one, she was in a lovely vulnerable position. Two, Saul had potentially saved her life. Quain wasn’t too sure who Evaen had been aiming at, but it didn’t matter. It was the thought that mattered. He was devoted. And, he was indeed vindictive when someone threatened those he cared for. Wonderful!

“No. Are you?”she asked. She knew the bolt had missed, but it was still good to act concerned.

Her eyes turned to Evaen as well, and she grinned evilly at him. That seemed to piss off the man beside Evaen and he darted toward them, ignoring the feral folk still killing each other. He appeared to have only a knife, but Quain knew better. True assassins never had just one weapon.

Evaen wasn’t too surprised that Saul had dodged his attack. Saul was a good fighter, and Quain… he had no words to describe the treacherous witch.

But, as he watched the pair, he saw the way they looked at each other, the way they acted. Were they flirting while still in battle? By the gods, what sort of crazy bitch was Quain? Evaen was glad now that he never got romantically involved with her. A few one-night stands every now and then had been the extent of their former relationship. Evaen had regretted that once. Now, such regret was a stupid thought.

As Saul stared at him, Evaen stared right back, studying the man. Up until he saw Quain’s grin. That made him stiffen. Though, it also enraged his lieutenant. Before Evaen could react, the man was rushing into the crowd. The woman nearly followed, concerned for her brother, but Evaen caught her by the wrist.

“We can’t let him fight alone!”she hissed at Evaen.

“We must think before we act. We’re fighting three people here, not two. We must get her. She’s a cultist, and has brought him here. He’s the fog,”Evaen hissed back.

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she composed herself and nodded. She knew what she had to do.

Quain shook her head at his apology, unable to find words as she felt the way his hands lingered on her bare waist. She knew he wasn’t sorry, could see it in his eyes. She could even see the fantasies in his head, and they only added to her own. She was practically breathless in an instant.

Quain was barely paying attention to the fight now, even as Saul regained his senses. Though, at his answer, Quain nodded and forced herself to catch her breath. She then watched Saul focus on the charging man, and a cruel smirk grew on her lips.

“Alright,”she replied softly to Saul’s order.

He didn’t need to worry about her safety, but it was touching nonetheless. Her devoted slave…

She was so caught up in admiring her newest pet that she didn’t see a woman assassin sneaking around the edge of the crowd toward her.

The man continued to rush through the crowd, slicing the throats of any that got in his way. Then, he burst out from the thinning crowd at all full run at Saul. The warrior’s stance didn’t faze the assassin, especially as he lunged with a dagger that had turned into a sword with a tap of his finger.

Evaen continued to watch from his perch, noting the crowd was starting to get terribly thin. So many dead now, and so quickly. Death didn’t scare him, but this whole scenario wasn’t right. Half of the people in the club were just patrons, wanting to drink and laugh and gamble. The other half were trained assassins, now reduced to mere beasts.

His lieutenant was a great soldier, possibly a match to Quain’s warrior in a fair fight. But, this was no fair fight. And, the assassin’s sister, soon to be a lieutenant herself, if they all survived, was just as good as her brother, but milder in temperament. She wasn’t a fighter, though she was still a killer. But, even with all of that, the odds were still stacked against them in a way that was just so wrong.

His eyes moved back to Quain, seeing her attention solely on Saul for the moment. He started reloading his hand crossbow, determined to take, at least, one more shot before he was forced into battle.

Quain knew exactly what Saul was thinking, and she was already impatient for it. Her interest in the battle was steadily waning, her need to claim Saul as her slave growing in its place. She would have him, and soon.

A small smile lifted her lips as she saw how her simple reply boosted Saul. She would definitely use that little detail to her advantage.

Quain watched as Saul and the male assassin started to fight, a cruel grin growing as she saw the experience in Saul’s movements. But, only a few moments later, the fog gave her a warning tap on the foot. Quain whirled around to her left, and saw the female assassin about to pounce on her.

Quain immediately ducked the woman’s first lunge, then reached under her own skirts, pulling out a wicked dagger from a sheath on her thigh. With a feral shriek, Quain slashed at the woman’s belly. The woman’s quick reflexes was all that spared her from getting disemboweled. But, Quain immediately closed on her, not letting her get a moment to reorient herself. The woman, using two daggers of her own, went on the defensive, trying desperately to get her footing back as the crazed belly dancer attacked her.

The man growled furiously as his strike was blocked by Saul’s sword. He moved to lunge again, but Saul kicked him before he could even start the movement. He stumbled back a few steps, curling and gasping, but he recovered quickly and slashed low, cutting at Saul’s ankles. As he did so, his free hand pulled out a hidden knife, one that he moved to stab straight into Saul’s groin.

Evaen winced as he saw Quain viciously going after the woman assassin. Unless she steadied, she was doomed for sure, and that was just simple observation. He had never seen Quain fight, had never even realized that she kept a dagger on her, but he had clearly underestimated her fighting skills.

The battle between Saul and the man was a little more evenly matched, it seemed. That would buy Evaen a minute or two, at least. Long enough to get a proper aim at Quain.

The crowd was quickly becoming small pockets of people. Each group still brutally fought, but the implication that soon no one would be left bothered Evaen. But, it did allow him a clearer sight of Quain.

He quickly finished loading his little crossbow and held it up. He watched Quain’s movements carefully, timing his shot. Then, when he felt it was right, he fired. Ion and Korsakrūna willing, his aim would be true.

The man heard the shriek as well, but ignored it just like Saul did. His mind was solely focused on gutting the foreign warrior in front of him. Then, he would be going after the bitch he was with.

But, Saul’s sudden roar confused him, and his movements slowed just barely. However, it was enough that he was caught unprepared by Saul’s jump. His sword fell out of his hand as Saul stepped on it, but he managed to hold onto the dagger as Saul knocked it aside. Out of sheer luck, the dagger cut a shallow gash in Saul’s thigh, but that was all. Then, the man was choking as Saul’s sword slashed his throat, nearly taking his head off in the process.

He gurgled for a moment, the dagger falling from his fingers to the floor, then his body followed.

The man’s sister, who was still desperately fighting Quain, saw her brother fall. She screamed in denial, and moved to rush away, to help her brother. Unfortunately for her, Quain didn’t relent, and she slashed at the woman’s gut as she turned.

Pain overtook greif, and she stumbled away, holding her belly. She tried to defend herself from Quain, but her balance and momentum were broken. She knew she was dead. And, she was right.

With another shriek, Quain cut her throat ear to ear. The woman dropped her weapons, her hands shooting to her neck, where she discovered something far worse than blood. Her flesh was rapidly rotting away too. And, within seconds, the magic in Quain’s dagger had turned her entire neck into a chasm of putrid tissue and bone.

She let out a croaking gasp and collapsed to the ground, dying in agony as the decay spread as quickly as her blood pooled around her.

The last thing she saw was the sadistic grin on Quain’s face, her dagger glowing a faint sickly green.

Evaen saw the man’s death just as he fired. He flinched without realizing it, but that little motion threw off his aim. The bolt thudded into the wall behind Quain as she stared down at the woman.

Quain heard the thud and turned to see the bolt. Immediately, she locked a glare on Evaen. Then, she threw her dagger at him.

Evaen’s eyes widened and he tried to dodge the throw without toppling his chair. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out as intended. The dagger struck him hard in the shoulder, and Evaen overbalanced, him and the chair falling back to the floor.

With a groan, Evaen quickly pulled the dagger from his shoulder, but its magic was already working. Evaen suppressed a whimper of pain and instead climbed to his feet.

“I knew you were a damn cultist, you bitch of a whore!”Evaen shouted.

Quain didn’t move, simply glaring at him. Then, she looked at Saul.

“He is leader here. I’m almost certain he helped kill your dear friend, even if all he did was say the command,”Quain said, her voice laced with magic. Magic that Evaen knew would influence the foreign warrior, and the poor man was likely too mesmerized by her to notice her foul spell.

With a shake of his head, Evaen reached down and pulled a sword out from a hidden scabbard in his chair. He would go for the second sword he’d hidden in his seat, but his poisoned arm was useless. The rot was already almost at his elbow, while also taking up most of his chest. It would kill him soon, but Evaen was determined to die fighting, instead of cowering.

Quain was so focused on Evaen that she didn’t notice Saul approaching until his arm was around her and his lips on hers. A small gasp escaped her, but her surprise quickly melted away as she sensed his drastically increased attraction. She then eagerly kissed Saul back, her entire body already craving more.

However, the kiss was cut off as Saul turned to snarl at Evaen. Quain smiled at Saul, pleased by his reaction, and even more so as he pulled her even closer. Quain then turned back to Evaen, her smile turning cruel.

She let a soft moan slip out as Saul kissed her temple. Quain was so eager to take him. She was impatient for it. She was even tempted of letting Evaen watch, just to torture him, but he was an assassin. It was too great a risk to let him live, so she just watched as Saul moved to finish him off.

Evaen shook his head at the sight of Saul kissing Quain. The casual affection was so wrong. Everything about the entire situation was just so wrong. From the battle to the flirtations to the Dreaded One himself coming to observe. This had been no battle. It had been a slaughter. He and his fellows were just cattle. Tools to cement Quain’s control over the poor man flirting with her.

“If you knew the truth of her, you’d agree with me. But, I doubt you ever will,”Evaen huffed.

Evaen held up his sword in a practiced pose, but his grip was quickly weakening. The pain from the rot was growing exponentially with each breath, and, even with his decades of discipline, he could barely concentrate on anything except fighting back a scream of agony.

But, he was determined to focus anyway. He wouldn’t die like a wounded goat. Sure, he knew this foreign warrior was baiting him, but at least he was allowing Evaen to die with some kind of dignity, whether he realized it or not.

“You’re just a willing slave now. A weapon to be used and discarded. I’d pity you, but I just don’t care,”Evaen hissed.

He then lunged forward, going for Saul’s throat with all of his remaining strength.