2E 398
Oakenheart was a fair-sized town that benefited from the
trade offered by those travelling between the capital city of Athelbury and the
coastal city of Navelton. For most people Oakenheart was a welcoming town with
well-lit streets and plenty of protection from either the Quilldrake soldiers
or knights from any one of the nearby orders. The local townsfolk were accustomed
to all sorts of the many species and races that called this world home. Oakenheart
stood as a shining example of hospitality within the Quilldrake kingdom.
But every day has its night, every light casts its shadow, and even the
friendliest of towns have a dangerous underground network of criminals and
cultists. Oakenheart was no different. This truth was best known to those that
society had left behind, abandoned to the harsh cold reality; the homeless,
mentally ill, and outsiders to traditional family values. In her search for
answers, Lia had found herself tangled up within the web of secret cultists
that called this fair city home. Despite the murkiness of her new community’s
morality, she found the freedom to question the motives and truthfulness of the
Gods freeing. It was these very questions that had caught the attention of the
Trux cultists. Lia felt that she was within reach of immortality, or at least
the means of acquiring it. Everything in Honosreach had its price, and this was
no different.
Which is what brought Lia to her current situation.
The Drunken Pony was one of many taverns within Oakenheart. Unlike all the
other taverns though, this one contained a particular man, one Lia had deemed
an acceptable target. He was an abuser of women, a selfish person who cared
only for his own pleasure.
The many moons hung high in the sky, standing in silent judgment. Most of
Oakenheart was smothered in a comfortable darkness. This part of town stood out
due to how well lit it was, with plenty of streetlamps covering the surrounding
buildings with a flickering orange light. Despite the warm glow the streets
were still cold as an autumn chill blanketed the town.
Lia shivered as she pulled the few filthy blankets she had to keep herself warm
closer to her cold skin. It did little to help. As she waited, she focused on
her breathing, enjoying the sight of the cloud of warm air as she exhaled.
Despite what the bitter cold implied, each fresh cloud that escaped her lungs
was proof that she was still alive. Proof that these years of living hard and
rough hadn’t yet killed her.
The sound of the tavern’s opening door knocking the nearby bell caused her eyes
to dart towards the doorway. A man, struggling to stand under his own balance
tumbled out of the warm tavern. The flickering light from the streetlamps
coated his face in darkness. Lia was unable to guarantee that this was her
target. Her frustration mounted as the drunken lout stumbled towards the
streetcorner. He stopped directly under the streetlamp closest to herself.
While she could feel his unwelcome stare, the light directly above him masked
his face in even more darkness than before. Lia felt vulnerable in the cold
openness of the street. As the drunken man continued to stare at her, he pulled
a cigarette case free from his jacket pocket and removed one. When the
cigarette was held in his lips, he pulled another free before returning the
case to his pocket.
“Fancy a smoke lass?” His voice was familiar. Lia’s heart leapt at the
possibility of this being her target, before icy cold fear then gripped her at
the realization of what she had to do if he was. She felt for the autopsy knife
tucked into her waistband. It was the same weapon she had threatened her
brother with two years ago. Now though, it meant safety, and perhaps more.
“Sure thing mister.” She answered in as innocent a voice as she could muster as
she got to her feet. The remains of the temple robes, undershirt, trousers and
workers boots covered her frail body. Her precious blankets hung over her
shoulders as she made her way towards the drunken man. Lia strained to make out
his face but couldn’t in the darkness. He then pulled a matchbox free from his
jacket pocket and lit one of the fire sticks. Lia focused on his face. He moved
the tiny flame towards the cigarette in his mouth. As the tobacco inside the
cigarette began to burn the match lit up his face enough to let Lia know that
this was her target. She smiled to herself, but this was mistaken by the man as
instead intended for him.
“You got a pretty smile, girlie.” He held out the unlit cigarette towards her.
“Thank you mister.” She took the smoke from him and placed it between her lips.
“Can I have a light please?”
“Of course.” As he spoke, he leaned his face towards hers, as if he was coming
in for a kiss. Lia prepared herself for any danger. He pressed his lit
cigarette against her unlit one and took a drag, allowing the flame to spread
from his smoke to hers. She inhaled the tobacco smoke as he moved away from
her. “Ya’know, I could help you out with cash, if you wanted to have a little
fun.” Lia removed the cigarette from her mouth and smiled as she let the smoke
emerge from between her lips.
“Sure thing mister. But where would we go?” She punctuated the sentence with
another drag from the cigarette. While she didn’t smoke very often, the tobacco
helped calm her nervousness.
“Follow me.” He grabbed her wrist, tight, and pulled her towards one of the
nearby alleyways. The shadow from the two buildings either side of them hid
them from view. Although the various unattended supplies, and wooden crates
from the nearby shops made it difficult to navigate. As the drunken man
stumbled down the alleyway, Lia lost her blankets.
Eventually she found herself pressed up against the cold stone brickwork. The
smell of old ale hit her before she felt the man’s lips pressed up against her
own with his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She panicked and reached
for the autopsy knife tucked into her waistband. As she gripped the wooden
handle of her weapon, she felt the man’s hand trying to force itself into her
trousers. As he slid his hand down there, he found it sliced open on the blade
of Lia’s weapon. He screamed a profanity at the sudden pain and Lia attempted
to cover his mouth with her left hand as she pulled the knife free with her
right. The darkness made it nearly impossible to see what she was doing so she
ended up only covering his chin with her hand. As he realised what was happening,
he bit down onto her hand, drawing blood as he did so. She bit her own lip to
avoid screaming herself, and readjusted her hand, finally covering his mouth.
Her right hand plunged the knife into his flesh. Lia wasn’t sure what she had
expected this moment to feel like, but it wasn’t anything like this. The knife
hit something hard and jerked to the side; this awkward motion sprained her
wrist. She bit down harder on her lip as the pain ran up her arm like a jolt of
electricity. The man struggled to free himself from her grip. Thanks to his
superior size he was able to push her to the side, but the knife came with her.
Lia hit the floor hard; more pain erupted across her body. She got to her feet
as quickly as possible and looked for her target. He was screaming something
unintelligible as he struggled back down the alleyway. Lia moved after him.
Catching him wasn’t difficult as he tripped on one of the empty crates
littering the alley. Lia used her left hand to find the man’s scruffy hair,
gripping it tight when she found it. She then stabbed the knife towards where
she expected his neck and throat to be. It missed and hit his collar bone. This
caused more pain to shoot up her arm as the knife once again jerked to the
side. No time for this. She pulled the knife free again and aimed higher. This
time it hit what felt like his throat. As if he was trying to confirm her hit,
the man began to emit a wet gurgling sound as he tried to inhale. Lia pulled
the knife free and plunged it back in. The cold autumn chill was replaced with
a wet warmth as she repeatedly plunged the knife into the man’s throat. She
continued this vicious assault until the gurgling sound ceased, and the man’s
body went limp.
It was done.
Lia rolled over onto her back and allowed herself to exhale. She smiled as a
cloud of warm air obscured her view of the judgemental moons above her. Then,
as the realisation of what she had just done hit her, she started to sob to
herself. She only stopped when she felt the warm puddle of blood begin to soak
through her robes, snapping her back to the task at hand. After she wiped away
the tears from her face, she rolled the man over onto his back and got to work
on the next awful task of the night.
Oakenheart’s graveyard was located on the outskirts of town.
It was a quiet and forgotten place, peacefully hidden in a vale of darkness. By
the time that Lia reached this morbid venue of death, the moons were dipping
below the horizon. The sun hadn’t yet crested the skyline, but the subtle
increase in light heralded its presence. There wasn’t much time left before
daybreak made the sordid business that Lia was dealing in dangerous.
At the centre of the graveyard stood a mausoleum. To most of the townsfolk,
this mausoleum was no different from those around it. It was, however, the
concealed entrance to the hideout of the Trux cultists. Lia nervously entered
the graveyard; her robes were covered in the blood of her victim. She had used
her blankets to cover most of the incriminating evidence, but she knew that
wasn’t enough. Between what could still be seen of the blood, the still
bleeding bite on her hand, and the gruesome object wrapped up in a messy
blanket, it was obvious that she was guilty of some foul crime. She made her
way, as quickly as she could, towards the central mausoleum. As she reached the
door she fumbled for the key, she had been given by the cultist that had
contacted her weeks prior. Lia nervously removed it from her pocket and
unlocked the heavy stone door. It took what little remained of her strength to
push the door open. A brazier burned bright on the tomb at the centre of the
room, coating the dusty interior with a warm glow. Lia entered the morbid
structure and pushed the door closed behind her. This place reminded her of her
old perch within the temple’s morgue. Only the spiders and corpses for company.
Lia realised how safe she felt within this mausoleum. She was safely hidden
away from the eyes of the public. The brazier offered her warmth, a feeling she
had almost forgotten during her years sleeping on the streets. What remained of
her guilt at her recent murder began to melt away in this macabre warmth. She
quickly unwrapped the gory prize from the blanket. Before long Lia was holding
the still wet heart of her recent victim in her hands. A grotesque payment for her
means of immortality, but not one she was above paying.
She threw the organ into the flames of the brazier. At first the wet blood
caused the flame to sputter and crackle, but after a few moments the heart
began to burn as it fed the fire. As her gift was accepted by Trux, the Deity
of the dead, the coffin slid back into the stone wall of the mausoleum
revealing a flight of stairs that led down into the shadows.
A figure, almost completely obscured by the darkness waited at the bottom. As
Lia made her way towards them, they spoke in a voice as shrill and frigid as
the dead themselves.
“Welcome to the family, sister.”
