It's been a few days since our encounter and near-death experience with the owlbear — barely achieving victory through Lord Drogon sacrificing half a dozen acolytes as meat shields to buy himself time to perform his special technique, which gave us the perfect chance to escape with our tails between our legs.
No, literally all of them had tails. They were tieflings after all ,devil-like humanoids. The entire cult was made up of the damnable bunch anyway, except for a select few that are forever looked down upon, like me for example. I can't help but curse the day I chose to join this goddamned cult, all thanks to that seductive temptress. I can't believe I fell for such a whore. How blind was I? I wish I'd never met her , damn succubus-like bitch, I just w…
"Xaphxan! Get your ass over here!"
A harsh voice jolted Xaphxan as he quickly hid his diary beneath his blackened robes, stumbling as he rushed toward the direction of the voice. Amidst the venomous glares of the other acolytes, he chose to ignore them they couldn't do anything to him anyway.
"M..My lord, you called for me?" he said as he knelt and bowed behind the sturdy back of Lord Drogon, who overlooked a vast clearing filled with Aether beast herds below the cliff edge they stood upon.
Lord Drogon turned his red, glowing eyes toward the human he considered worthless, valuable only because his foolish master still held a high status within their cult. If not for that, he would've flayed him by now.
"Do you know why you haven't been punished yet?"
"Yes… I do, my lord… because of my mas…"
"Your master, yes. And that's the only reason you were sent on this mission to begin with. He claimed you had a talent that would be of use, but I see no talent in you ,just another piece of human scum."
"But since our doctrine preaches about second chances, I've decided to allow you to prove yourself, to show that you're as valuable as your master claims once more," Drogon said, bringing his horned head closer as if to whisper. "Are you ready to prove yourself to prove that our teachings are right about second chances, that you're worthy to bear the mantle of a Dark Acolyte?"
'No, I don't care, you piece of shit', Xaphxan screamed inwardly, but what came out was a passionate, trembling voice:
"Yes, my lord. I'm willing to. I'm willing to die for our cause."
Hearing this, Lord Drogon smirked mischievously in a way that made Xaphxan instantly regret mentioning dying for their cause.
"Good. Then you bring pride to your master's name. I'll assign you three other brethren, and you'll lead them to that mountain range while we follow behind. I suspect that's where the elves are hiding , they're fans of greenery after all," he said, pointing toward a forest across the clearing.
"But… what can I and three brethren do, my lord? Those three elves are skilled and all at the ends of the First Rank. We'll ne.."
Xaphxan's words were cut short as Drogon replied menacingly, "Didn't I say I and the other brethren would be right behind you? Don't tell me you're refusing my hand at a second chance."
Blackish aura started oozing from his robes.
"You know what happens to those who refuse the helping hands of the brethrens."
'Be right behind me, my ass.'
"No, my lord. I dare not refuse your grace at a second chance. I'll do it," Xaphxan said, grinding his teeth though he made sure Drogon could only hear his quivering voice.
"Good. You leave by noon," Drogon replied with a ruthless smile before turning back toward the clearing below the cliff's edge.
Turning away after receiving what he could only see as his death sentence, Xaphxan couldn't stop laying curses on Lord Drogon , in his mind, of course. Passing by the other tiefling acolytes who looked at him with gloating expressions, he knew the task was suicidal. Without Drogon or more support, there was no way he'd survive. He was certain the acolytes assigned to him would be the injured ones , the dead weight.
So, it was either death by Aether beasts before finding any trace of the elves… or by the elven women themselves. Those three were infamous for a reason their reputation from their now-conquered territory was fearsome. And since it was his damned cult that had taken their city, they'd surely give him a painful death.
Well that's if the wounded acolytes didn't kill him first.
He sighed in regret and resignation.
…..
At noon, Xaphxan could be seen trudging through the woods, using a long curved machete to cut through the tall green plants in his way. He glanced behind him, seeing three "brethrens" following from behind.
"Tsk, at least a pretense won't sting. Fucking bastards," Xaphxan cursed, as the three "injured" brethrens had used their injuries as an excuse to get him to clear the path forward.
It had been an hour since they left on this mission, but up to this point, he'd not seen a single sign of Lord Drogon or the larger group. Clearly, something wasn't right. He made sure to keep his eyes out and prepare for the unexpected — and as if on cue, one of the acolytes called,
"Hold up, Xaphxan!"
Xaphxan frowned menacingly before turning towards the three other acolytes with a bright smile.
"Why, my brethren?"
"Because we want to rest. We're still in pain from our injuries — injuries that you caused," one with a missing horn snarled.
"Besides, what can we do if we were to find them? You being useless and us being injured, there's honestly nothing we can do," sneered another from his left.
Xaphxan ground his teeth but replied in a considerably calm manner.
"Ooh, you're both right. We should wait and rest, at least until you all recover. I dou—"
"That's enough pretense. Let's just do what we've been ordered to do. His master won't know anyway," the third one spat, drenching Xaphxan's back in sweat as he gripped his magic pouch tightly.
"Come on, Dhakar. Lord Drogon said we should kill him unawares. That way, if his master bothers to investigate, it won't lead back to us," the one-horned acolyte sneered.
"Tsk, I refuse to believe that master of his would be bothered to investigate his death. He does have a reputation for being emotionless himself."
Xaphxan gritted his teeth as he watched the three red-skinned bastards talk about his death right in front of him.
"You!" he barked, drawing their menacing gaze.
"Spare me, brethren, please! I'll give you anything you want — anything at all!" he burst into tears as he knelt, begging for his life.
"Hahaha!" the three acolytes burst into laughter.
"I can't believe the Shadow Bringer is your master. What a shame," the one-horned acolyte sneered, moving towards him as he brought out a curved blade from his robes.
Seeing the gleam of the blade, Xaphxan bit his lip before offering up his pouch, even bringing out a potion bottle from within.
"Please take it. I have a lot of potions, a lot of coins — even dark tokens. Please, spare me, brothers."
"Tsk, do you think we're fools? How could you amass so much of what you speak of?"
"My master — he gave me a lot. But it's wasted on me. I'm useless after all. Please, spare me," Xaphxan cried out as snot poured down his nose to his mouth, a thing rarely seen from an adult.
The one-horned acolyte turned to the other two and smiled as if they had all come to an agreed understanding.
"Okay, crawl on your knees and bring it to us," he said as he stepped back and stood among the rest with gloating expressions plastered on their faces.
Gritting his teeth, Xaphxan smiled as if he was genuinely happy they had granted him freedom. He bent and crawled towards them, earning the disgust of the three acolytes at his spinelessness.
As he edged closer to them, he suddenly rose to his feet, tossing the potion bottle toward the one-horned acolyte standing in the middle, darting backward in the same motion.
The one-horned acolyte's hand shot out, catching the bottle midair. His eyes flashed with a ruthless light — but a cracking sound drew his gaze to his clenched palm.
Boom! The bottle exploded into a cloud of green smoke, drowning the faces of the three acolytes as their muffled coughs rang out.