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Dynasty of Dovak	By : JohnDoe Category: +A through F > Exalted RPG Views: 4983 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Session 64 – The Old Man and the Sea *Smut* – Reya (200XP 160DX, 195/143 spent; 9GP 36SP), Melody (200XP 160DX, 200/146 spent), and Ganan (200XP 160DX, 187/153 spent; 8WhP 53GP 71SP)

The Hearth does not wait for Gazal and Oban’s wedding. When morning comes, they make their preparations to leave. When the markets open, Ganan procures a large bock of wood: he shapes it into an egg-shape, hollows it, splits it in half, and sets the halves on a hinge. He uses an off-cut to create a ventilation hatch, then he adds wheels and a handle to the egg, rims the joins in rubber, and lines the inside with the Nellens silks from their bed, before burnishing the wood with flame. In the end, he has created a fine, well-cushioned, perambulator – protected from the elements (-10SP: 9GP 4SP).

They make for the city limits and Stormwind across the country. The companions travel in easy silence: Ganan folds his arms across his chest and pretends to brood, but it does little to darken the mood. Reya stops frequently to give Melody a chance to stretch out: which she does, gratefully. Their new mortal companion, Aline the wetnurse, adapts stoically. Twice before lunch, they see troops moving in the distance, and Cathak troops on the main roads, and must detour to avoid them.

The sun reaches its zenith: its rays warming the frigid dragons with the promise of spring to come. They eat together, sprawled out on the ground with Melody reclined on a rocky outcropping. Aline tends to baby Lezabe, giving Reya a much-needed rest.

Ganan stretches out, “How much further?”

Melody smiles as she readies her bow, “Few more hundred miles. Plus, we have to kill that sorcerer: I hope it’s Ragara.” She rises, summoning her phantom steed.

Ganan turns, “What sorcerer-?” He breaks off as he sees another Stormwind Rider hurtling directly towards them.

Udi gauges the distance and starts to cast, “We can outrun them.”

Ganan walks over to the rock Melody was leaning on. He lays his hand on its surface, feeling its chill. Closing his eyes, Ganan balls his hand into a fist – fingers pushing through solid rock and he draws out his Dragon Sigh Wand.

“How many?” Reya asks Melody as the Stormwind grows nearer.

Melody aims, straining her eyes, “Five. They look like Cathaks.”

Ganan snorts derisively, “They never learn. First mortals with no Exalted, now Exalted with no soldiers.”

“Uh, Gan,” Melody interjects without taking her eyes off the approaching Dragon-Blooded, “We don’t travel with mortals.”

“Because we don’t need them. If we lose this fight, I will admit we should be traveling with mortal guards.”

Aharon ignites his halberd and takes position.

Udi objects, “Are we really going to do this?”

“We are, you’re not. Take Aline and the baby and back-off. If we go down, make a beeline for Berit.” Reya commands, readying her bow. “Five against four isn’t so bad.” She uses the wind to carry a message to the approaching sorcerer, “That’s close enough. Continue to approach and we will fire on you.”

The Stormwind does not slow. Ganan’s heart leaps, and his malicious, child-like joy shows on his face. Melody grimly sets her jaw.

Reya keeps her face impassive and her voice calm, “Let them have it.”

Preempting haste, Ganan holds still, knowing he is still out of range.

Melody lets loose on the sorcerer at the heart of the dust-devil. Though the storm-winds buffet her shot, her arrow flies true and rings out against the Cathak’s armor.

The Cathaks gun-forward, racing across the distance as if it were nothing. Cathak Chakrams snaps off a shot at Aharon, who parries it neatly with his blade. Cathak Sorcerer sets down and starts to cast a new spell. Cathak Longfang, Cathak Grimcleaver, and Cathak Goremaul spill onto the ground in a defensive perimeter.

Reya fires her bow at the Cathak Sorcerer. Goremaul jumps into the path of the arrow, shattering it to pieces with his mighty weapon. Cursing, Reya backs up.

Flames erupt from Ganan’s firewand, seeking the enemy sorcerer as he shoots from the hip. Cathak Longfang intercepts the blow with a vertical strike, cutting through the gout of flame and trusting in her armor to protect her. The effort still sets Longfang off-balance.

Aharon rushes forward – heedless of the danger. He swings his halberd directly at Cathak Longfang, forcing her to take another step back before his assault.

Summer Thunder sings as Melody snaps a shot on Cathak Longfang. Her arrow breaks the Cathak warrior's guard as she takes a hand off of her weapon for a moment to avoid being skewered, and spins to avoid Aharon’s blows. Her eyes go wide with panic, as she realizes she is spun right into the open.

Ganan thumbs a fresh cartridge into Burnt Offering’s breach and fires at Longfang. There is a scream. Ganan’s blood rises. Cathak Longfang goes down as the flames consume her, the smell of roasting flesh filling the air.

Aharon does not hesitate to charge into Cathak Goremaul, swinging his halberd in a figure-of-eight attack. Goremaul shifts the weight of his weapon awkwardly, barely managing to fend off the attack.

“LEKAI!” Goremaul shouts as Cathak Longfang goes down, and he batters Aharon back with a tremendous two-handed strike, rushing to his burnt companion’s side.

Cathak Grimcleaver rushes into to close with Aharon, holding him and bay with wild slashes of her massive axe – each able to cut a man in two, but none managing to find Aharon’s flesh.

Cathak Chakrams aims at Reya.

Reya takes a deep, calming breath – she fills herself with Mela’s grace and takes careful aim at the sorcerer in the heart of the pack.

Cathak Sorcerer unleashes her spell. The Mists of Eventide roll out over Melody, spreading out to catch the others and Cathak Grimcleaver in its wake. Aharon glows with power as he shrugs off the mystic poison. Grimcleaver’s anima likewise ignites, though her movements slow as the poison takes hold. Ganan simply stops breathing. Remembering the deadly effectiveness of the Mists in the Tomb of the Ancients, Melody directs her mighty beast out of the fog, even as it starts to cloud their minds. Reya grits her teeth, steeling her body with the nightmare of having lost control of her body the last time she was exposed to this spell: she exhales, sending Mela’s breath into the sorcerous miasma as she shrugs off the poison’s effects.

Melody drives her phantom steed forward. The great beast tramples Cathak Grimcleaver as Aharon dives to one side. The poison addled Cathak struggles to get her guard up as Melody’s mount spins and kicks out with its powerful hind legs: the kick sends her flying out of the mists to land in a crumpled heap at the feet of the Cathak Sorcerer.

Aharon runs out of the mists, slashing at Cathak Goremaul, once more forcing him on the defensive.

Cathak Chakrams hurls at Reya, the slicing blue jade slips straight through her guard and crashes against her ironwood armor, striking her in the solar plexus. If she hadn’t just exhaled, the blow would knock the wind out of her – the Chakram returns to its master as Reya struggles to breathe.

The Cathak Sorcerer begins shaping a new spell.

Ganan doesn’t think before hurling himself out of the Mists to hammer into the Chakram wielding Cathak. His anima flickers and collapses as he banishes his firewand and draws his tetsubo. He brings Thunder’s Crash down in a sweeping over-head blow which drives the Cathak into the ground.

Cathak Goremaul’s anima rises into a swirling storm of stones as he batters Aharon back into the Mists.

Reya snaps a shot at the Cathak Sorcerer, momentarily breaking her concentration by forcing her to redirect a gust of Stormwind to avoid being impaled. She turns and flees through the mists – away from the Cathak forces – to find fresh air.

Aharon blazes out of the Mists in a storm of fire. He charges at the downed Chakram wielder, impaling them with his halberd. The Cathak twists on Aharon’s blade and spits blood, tenaciously refusing to surrender. “Down that fucking sorcerer!” Aharon yells at Ganan.

Ganan leaves the Chakram wielder supine on the ground, wrestling with Aharon, and gives a mighty leap, landing by the Sorcerer’s side. She looks at him with astonishment – her eyes go wide, and her hands go up defensively… futilely. Ganan drives her to the ground with a punishing blow.

Cathak Goremaul charges at Aharon, aiming to knock him back into the Mists.

“Not this time!" Aharon growls, smashing his halberd against the Cathak’s hammer, deflecting the bow.

Reya aims through the Mists, remembering the lessons Melody taught her as she draws a bead on the Goremaul wielding Cathak.

Melody snaps a shot on the Goremaul wielding Cathak as she charges her steed out of the Mists. Caught between Aharon’s halberd and Melody’s arrows, he is driven back.

The Cathak Sorcerer looks up at Ganan, “We yield! We yield!” She screams desperately she waves her arms frantically.

“Stay down!” Ganan roars and turns his attention to Cathak Goremaul, who obediently lowers his hammer, face grim and he stares back at Ganan.

Melody dismounts as the Mists of Eventide dissipate. She checks Cathak Lekai, kicking her Longfang out of reach. She is dead. She moves on to Cathak “Grimcleaver”: she is still alive, so Melody gets to work stabilizing her. She has multiple fractures from being savagely tossed through the air like a ragdoll by the horse-kick, but nothing Exalted healing can’t handle. Finally, she walks over to the Chakram wielding Cathak: she sees at a glance that his wounds are cauterized by Aharon’s blade.

As Melody ministers to their fallen foes, Reya approaches, shouldering her bow and drawing her shield. Udi’s Stormwind Rider edges closer, painfully slowly, as if wary of a trap. Ganan heaves the sorcerer from the ground and corrals the Cathak scions together.

Aharon doesn’t turn his back on the Cathak troops as he backs up slowly, bending down and retrieving the fallen Cathak’s Longfang, “Free toys.” He smiles to himself.

Reya gives him a withering look and stretches out her hand for him to hand the looted Longfang over. Aharon pouts but surrenders the weapon. Reya offers it to the Goremaul wielding Cathak.

“You fought well,” She acknowledges, “I am sorry for your loss.”

Cathak Goremaul looks angrily at Aharon and his red jade bow, “Are you going to return Salamander’s Kiss as well?”

“Is that what it’s called?” Aharon smiles, readying the bow, “It’s a fine weapon. A real boon, my thanks.”

Reya knows better than to push her luck with Aharon, “Meaning no disrespect, but no, we shan’t be returning that. I intend to send your ransom demands to the Imperial City: I’ll need your names, but I am happy to send it elsewhere if you desire.”

An unfamiliar voice calls out, “I will take custody of them.” The Dynasts turn and see a man dressed in flowing white robes, he carries a large staff. The pate of his head is bald, but long white hair flows from the rim, tied back into a ponytail. His face is underlined by a trim goatee.

Ganan’s eyes narrow as he tries to place the face, “I know you…” He starts.

Reya nods slowly, “It’s the Mouth of Peace’s secretary. Chejak?”

The bald man smiles ruefully, “Close enough, Mnemon Danireya.” He bows graciously and beckons the Cathak scions to his side.

“With greatest respect old man,” Melody drawls as she approaches, her weapon in hand, “If the Mouth of Peace wants our prisoners, she can pay the ransom. So, run back to the palace, and come back with a pile o’ jade.” She smiles, cruelly.

Somehow the Cathak scions have shuffled themselves behind the old man. Even the fallen body of Cathak Lekai is at his feet.

The old man continues as if he hadn’t heard Melody, “We’ll be leaving now.” He says simply.

Ganan roars as he leaps forward, swinging his tetsubo through the air. Chejop Kejak catches the massive jade weapon with two fingers, and twists his hand at the wrist, wrenching it from Ganan’s two-handed grasp and tossing it casually to one side.

Ganan swings a large, bronze fist at the old man’s head. The living metal shoots out with the speed of a striking snake, but to Ganan he feels as if he is moving through treacle as the old man casually dodges to one side. Ganan immediately follows up with a jab, then a cross hook and an uppercut: the old man twists in a blur, evading every blow. Ganan’s anima starts to burn with power as he exerts himself against this elderly foe. It seems as if Chejop is forced to step back under the relentless assault, but when Ganan’s flurry ends it seems as if neither fighter has moved.

Chejop Kejak makes a fist and strikes Ganan once with a quick jab to the chest. The old man’s fist is a blur, Reya can’t even follow the movement. She does see Ganan’s Invulnerable Skin of Bronze explode with an Invincible God-Metal Flash: the force of the old man’s blow throws backward a clear six-feet. Ganan’s anima returns to dim, and it seems as though the old man has punched the magic out of him.

Panting for breath, Ganan sizes up his foe carefully. Sweat trickles in rivulets down his forehead. He feels the presence of his Hearth at his back. The bonfire flames of Aharon’s anima lick over him as the taller warrior finds his side, halberd ready.

Without looking at him, Aharon sets his jaw, “Together.” He says.

Ganan and Melody nod.

Melody shoots an arrow at Chejop Kejak. He twists at the waist and flicks it from the air as Ganan and Aharon rush him from each side. Aharon swings his halberd in a decapitating arc. Chejop clasps his hands behind his back as he ducks under the swing. Ganan charges at him to grab him about the waist, but the old man lashes out with a kick, smashing him in the face. The old man twists to the side as Melody fires another shot: he throws the caught arrow at this new one, splitting the arrow in flight.

Reya positions her shield between Melody and the old man. Chejop strokes his beard and leaps into the air: his feet find the flaming blade of Aharon’s halberd, and he balances perfectly on the head of the burning weapon. Aharon stares at him incredulously as Chejop delivers a rapid-fire flurry of kicks to Aharon’s face. Aharon drops his halberd as he reels back from the assault and Chejop lands smartly on the ground, not so much as staggered by the sudden fall.

With a clear shot, Reya speaks the burning name as Melody shoots again. Chejop punches the flames aside with a casual back-hand – not dissimilar to the move used by Ganan in the Nellens manse. Melody’s arrow strikes him in the shoulder, exploding into thorns. He looks at his shoulder, his mouth falling open with surprise as he knits his brow, amazed that the Dragon-Blooded could land a blow.

Ganan doesn’t hesitate, charges at Chejop from the wounded side, driving the power of his body behind a new flurry of punches and heavy elbow strikes. Chejop is forced into action, stepping inside Ganan’s guard to deliver precise pressure point blows to his shoulder, elbow, and stomach. Each two-finger strike hits like a sledgehammer, but the mountain cannot be moved, and Ganan stubbornly tanks the blows head-on. Aharon body-slams into Chejop, who spins at the last moment to deliver a full-fist blow that sends Aharon flying through the air, landing by Reya’s feet, unconscious.

“Damn you!” Ganan roars, charging again. Like a bullfighter, Chejop turns to the side at the last moment and delivers a knife-hand strike to the back of his head. Ganan drops to the floor.

Melody fires as Chejop blurs forward somehow he’s passed Reya and standing next to her just as her arrow is sailing through the empty space where he was. He rips Summer Thunder from her hands and hurls his fist forward with the same blurred motion that dropped Aharon. And the last moment his eyes flicker to Melody’s swollen belly, and he turns his blow aside, instead flicking her right shoulder joint with a single finger. Pain shoots through Melody like an electric shock as the joint dislocates. Chejop drops her priceless artifact weapon in the dirt and turns slowly to Reya.

Reya raises her shield and calls on the Cathak forces for help, “Don’t just stand there! He’s an Anathema! Help us!” The Cathak forces do not move.

Chejop starts forward, Reya speaks the Burning Name again and fire lashes him. A flicker of movement attracts Reya’s eye and she looks away from her foe for just a second. Surprisingly, Chejop looks too, just in time to see Ganan barrel into him and tackle him to the ground.

Ganan pulls back a fist and hammers Chejop in the face and wounded shoulder over and over. Yellow starlight seems to surround him, and the Sign of Secrets appears in green light on his brow. Pain wracks Ganan’s hand as if he were striking a block of solid iron. Then suddenly, the old man has slipped out from under him and is standing beside the Cathak troops once more. The Cathaks rank up behind the old man.

Reya keeps her voice level, “Ganan, grab Aharon.”

Ganan picks Aharon up glaring fiercely at the Exalted across from him.

Reya forces a smile, “Well, this has been… enlightening,” She bows, “But I’m afraid we must be getting on.”

Udi speeds towards them on her Stormwind Rider. Reya mounts smoothly, as Melody picks up her bow and staggers onto the Stormwind, and Ganan hauls Aharon up. Udi swerves, around the Cathak troops, allowing Ganan to yank his fallen tetsubo from the ground.

Chejop Kejak looks at them with a wry smile and shakes his head ruefully as they speed away. Cathak Chakram raises his weapon, but Chejop puts a hand on his and gently makes him lower his arm – allowing them to escape.

****

Udi puts a good hundred miles between them and the Anathema before setting down.

“I could have taken him.” Ganan broods, his voice low and dangerous.

Melody pops her shoulder back into place, wincing in pain.

Reya presses her lips into a thin line and balls her hands into fists. With great effort, she keeps her voice calm, “Well I am sorry that we got in your way. But I wasn’t ready to let my Hearth-mates die to give you that chance.” She turns to Udi, “You made the right call. Thank you.”

Melody stretches her arm and circles it through the air, flexing her numb fingers, “Yeah, thanks Udi.” She lays a hand on Ganan’s chest, “You’ll get him next time, slugger.” Her eyes flicker across his face as she wordlessly implores him to let it go.

Ganan brushes her off, “Check on Aharon.” He says brusquely as he turns away, and scans the horizon for any sign of pursuit, turning his back on the group.

Reya points a finger at his back and grits her teeth, ready to tear him to shreds. Her body tenses and she feels the hairs on the back of her neck go on end. Her jaw aches with effort. Melody sighs and rubs her stomach as she examines Aharon, and the tension drains from Reya’s body. She lets her arm drop to her side. She hangs her head. She sighs.

Aline feeds baby Lezabe as Melody works on Aharon. After a few minutes, Reya stops staring at Ganan’s back and squats by Melody.

“Can I help?” Reya asks.

Melody takes her hand and squeezes it warmly, before laying on Aharon’s body, “Press here. Be silent, let me work.”

A few more minutes pass as Melody’s hands roam over Aharon’s broken flesh. She applies poultices to open wounds and needles to pressure points. She drains a great deal of blood from Aharon’s chest, he gives a heaving gasp and his eyes flutter open for a moment – blurred and unfocused before closing again. Then she binds his broken ribs.

“I don’t normally do this.” She says, more to herself than Reya, “Important not to constrict the breathing. But we’ve got to set these ribs before they tear his lung open again.”

Reya nods mutely, only now understanding how severe Aharon’s injuries are from a single blow.

At last, Melody moves Reya’s hand aside. She doesn’t need to say that she’s done. “So, that sigil. A Sidereal caste mark?”

“Secrets.” Ganan pronounces without turning around.

Reya draws the sign in the dirt with a finger, “The Sign of Secrets. Associated with Jupiter and Heaven’s Eyes. The Mouth of Peace offering shelter to the Regent’s assassins now makes sense, at least.”

“Well… I guess you don’t spy on the Immaculate Order without learning a thing or two.” Melody offers weakly.

Ganan grunts and turns around, “We have a war to fight.” He gestures at Aharon, “Can we move him?”

“We shouldn’t. But we will… and he’ll live.” Melody shakes her head, “Might not be ready to fight when we march on the City though.”

Ganan spits on the ground, “Well that’s foul luck.”

Udi stares daggers at Ganan.

“That he won’t be able to fight!” Ganan insists, throwing a pleading look at Melody, “Not that he’ll live. I mean, of course, he’ll live – but that’s not foul luck.”

“Shall we move along?” Reya insists drolly as she casts Stormwind Rider.

****

The heroes do not travel in a straight line but stick to cover and back-roads. They stop less frequently, and only in sheltered places with good visibility. Ganan rubs his chest awkwardly where Chejop struck him and holds onto Aharon with one hand to stop him from falling from the Stormwind. Melody croons a life-affirming song softly, ostensibly to help Aharon heal, but mostly because she knows Ganan will not ask for help.

Hours pass until the Enduring Breath of Hesiesh comes into view. Melody spots Clapper surrounded by a wing of mounted archers returning to camp. She pinches Reya and points out her Shieldback. Reya dutifully changes course and brings them in.

Berit is riding on the back of Clapper. Melody and Reya notice members of the Free Company riding on horseback in formation around her. Berit hails them and dismounts as they draw near.

“I’ve been expecting you.” Berit says smartly as Reya sets down, “What took you so long?”

“We were ambushed, first by Cathak troops, then this crazy Immaculate monk. She kicked our asses.” Melody offers with her trademark cheerfulness.

“He.” Reya corrects, “And it wasn’t a monk. It was the Mouth of Peace’s secretary.”

Ganan shakes his head angrily, “The Mouth of Peace’s secretary is a crippled old mortal. This was a giant of a man!”

“No.” Reya hisses harshly, “It wasn’t. It was… Chejak Kejop… or whatever his name is. The Mouth of Peace’s secretary. You just can’t remember him clearly.”

Ganan sulks.

Berit fills in the gap, “Because he’s a Sidereal. This changes my equations. I had hoped that Heaven’s Exalted would stay neutral in our conflict, limiting themselves to reducing the war’s impact as they did in the Valley of the Ancients. If they have turned against us…”

Melody shakes her head, trying to clear it, “I don’t think they have. When we were escaping, one of the Cathak troops tried to attack us. She. He. The Sidereal stopped them, let us get away.”

“It still means the Immaculate Order is compromised.” Reya spits venomously, “What do you intend to do about this?” She jabs a finger at Berit.

Berit looks pointedly at Reya’s finger and decides to ignore her. She turns her focus to Melody, “Your Free Company has been of great use to me, you have trained them well in such a short period of time. You’ve heard by now that House Peleps has quit the field: it seems our ‘Emperor’ has charged them with founding a Western Imperial Protectorate.” She motions to them to walk with her into camp.

“A… WIP?” Melody asks, smirking, as she follows Berit, “What the hell is that?”

“According to Sesus intelligence? A second Prasad. House Peleps keeps the navy and gets the West. Cainan keeps the Isle. If he can keep the Isle. I have V’neef moving in on the Imperial City as we speak, and I’ve sent a vanguard ahead. I leave tomorrow with the bulk of the troops; I trust you will accompany me?” Berit gestures to the mounted archers, “We’ll be traveling slower than a Stormwind.”

Melody smiles, “Of course we’ll accompany you. I see you’ve been putting my Free Company to good use.”

Berit smiles at her, “We need auxiliaries. Actually, House Tepet might be an unexpected boon on that front.”

Melody wrinkles her nose, “The Red Piss Legion? Are we that desperate?”

“Yes,” Berit answers flatly, “We are. But more than that, Tepet Corino has been drawing on old Threshold alliances: I believe you’re familiar with the Medoan cavalry?” She nods at Melody’s bow.

“Auxiliaries,” Melody nods in understanding, “Well if Cynis can send in Threshold mercenaries, we can too. How many Tepet Satrapies have answered the call?”

“According to my sister? All of them. V’neef is securing the coastline: if this proves to be a trap, we’ll not lose our entire navy. But the Merchant Fleet is also bringing a considerable force to bear on the City directly. Paired with our forces here? We will crush them.” Berit folds her arms over her chest and smiles, “Or so say the greatest military minds of the Realm.”

Reya scoffs and rolls her eyes. Berit’s smile falls and she glares at her.

Melody swiftly steps in, “I’ll bite: who else have you recruited.”

Berit gives a sharp whistle, and three Dragon-Blooded of proud bearing emerge from the camp. Ganan leans into Melody and whispers, “Who are these old people?”

Melody smiles weakly and whispers back, “They’re the Empress’s personal military advisors. Three of her Crown Marshals. The greatest military minds of the Realm.” She curtsies awkwardly, “It’s an honor, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve joined our cause.”

“Mnemon Alinos Danireya, Winglord Gracious Pealing Melody may I present Crown Marshals Sesus Raijin Vers, Black Spire Cloud, and Ivory Knife of the Hidden Hand.” Berit’s smile has returned and she smirks at Reya, “Black Spire Cloud and Ivory Knife will be adopted into House Berit upon the successful completion of our campaign. And a full amnesty will be granted to Crown Marshals Cathak Kirumi, Cynis Erena, and Ledaal Varok, and of course, we shall release Mnemon Rulinsei Avar from the Imperial prison at Ice-Above-the-Water.”

Reya bows stiffly, “Of course. Mnemon bears no ill-will toward her mother’s military advisors. It will be good to bring two of the finest military minds of the Realm into the Dynasty – a great boon for Great House Berit, is it not Dragonlord Melody?” She forces a smile, and looks to Sesus Vers, “Though I do expect that your fellows will be cashiered for not offering their services during our time of need, I offer my assurances that my matriarch will not pursue them beyond that.”

Vers returns the bow, “And I expect that I will receive a generous pension and never be given a command again.”

Berit gestures towards Clapper, and Melody excuses herself to walk with her. Berit looks straight at the Shieldback Lizard as she addresses Melody from the corner of her mouth, “We march tomorrow. Fix her.” She turns smartly on her heel and strides away without glancing back at Melody.

****

With Berit’s vanguard already deployed, the Dragons have little difficulty finding a place to stay for the night. More wooden buildings have been added to the camp Ganan started, much of the local brush cleared by a trampling Shieldback Lizard. Our heroes secure four rooms for themselves, Udi and Aharon take one, Melody, Reya and Ganan each go to separate rooms (the baby and the wet-nurse bunking with Reya).

****

The shame of being forced to flee eats at Ganan as he exercises: way past sunset, he does push-ups trying to build his strength for his next encounter.

Melody lets herself into his room. He does not look up.

Ganan’s muscles burn as he pushes himself, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath the bare skin of his chest. The crude camp smells of war – too many people camped in too small a space.

“Gan, we need to talk.” She wants and watches him complete his last set of reps.

Ganan looks up at her, rises, wipes the sweat from his brow, and is instantly made clean and fresh by his enchanted necklace. “Fine talk.” He pulls on a shirt and folds his arms over his chest. It is hard for Ganan to be impatient with Melody: just seeing her lifts his spirits more than he’d like to let on.

Melody pinches his biceps, “This crude measure of strength is not the reason why we lost today.”

Ganan sighs and sits on the tiny room’s cot. He shuffles over to make room for Melody, but he does not look at her as he responds, “I know.” His tone is that of a confession as he stares at the bare wall

Melody sits next to him and puts an arm on his shoulder. “You kept us all alive today Gan. That Anathema dropped Aharon in one blow and he ripped my bow away like I was a child. You were the only one who could stand against him.”

Ganan grits his teeth and hangs his head, “But I still failed.” He swallows hard, “What am I good for if I’m not strong enough to…”

Melody punches him in the arm, “What? Not strong enough to keep us alive? By the Dragon’s man, pull yourself together! You are worth more than your ability to smash skulls Ganan. You’re a powerful sorcerer. You know more about our history than any scholar alive. And…” She gestures at all of him, “That.” Ganan smirks despite himself.

“We all have our strengths, Gan, and we need to work together. How did our ancestors overthrow the Anathema?” She asks, leading him.

“There are more of us. They used superior numbers.” Ganan fidgets with his fingers.

Melody stands and throws her arms out in mock indignation, “By the gods, maybe you are just a mindless mass of muscle! We won by working together. That is the great strength of the Dragon-Blooded. That’s the lesson beat into every legionnaire. It doesn’t matter how strong you get. It doesn’t matter if you can drill the rest of us to become as strong as you.” She jabs a finger into his chest, “You will never know real strength until the five of us can fight together.” She holds out five outstretched fingers and then balls them into a fist. She turns away from him, and shadow boxes, throwing her whole weight behind the punch, “First the fist, then we harness the power of the Realm behind us. But first, the fist.”

Ganan looks down at his feet. “I did… fight better… with help.” The words are strangled, as if speaking them is harder than the fight itself was.

Melody smiles at him and offers him her hand, “Didn’t you fight best when Reya was in danger?”

Blood rushes to Ganan’s face, and he takes Melody’s hand and stands up.

Melody ribs him, “You can blush! Who knew with all that bronze?” She straightens his shirt and brushes off his lapels, “We can’t fight together as a unit if we don’t trust each other.”

“I want… to make things right… with her.” Ganan says awkwardly, forcing himself to look at Melody.

“But you’re too proud?” Melody asks.

Ganan shakes his head, “I don’t know… how.” He pauses, “I can’t… I don’t have the skill with words that you have.”

Melody lays her other hand over his, holding his hand between both of hers, “I think she’s used to that by now.”

Ganan looks her in the eye, “Will you talk to her first? Soften her up for me?”

Melody feigns outrage, “You want me to melt the Ice Queen? Pasiap’s blood, why do you think I’m trying to convince you to do it!”

Ganan pokes her in the wounded shoulder – playfully, but harder than he needs to, “Fine. Give me a minute, I’ll go to her tonight.”

“Good boy.” She pats him on the head and walks out of his room. Reya is standing in the doorway waiting to come in.

****

Earlier

Reya feeds and settles baby Lezabe. The accommodations are basic. The entire four-room hut they’ve requisitioned would fit inside her quarters in Dovak’s Wall of Stone. She blinks away the comparison, putting Dovak from her mind as she leaves the baby with Aline. She regards the girl carefully: flowing golden hair and delicate features, a curvaceous body – well suited for child-rearing.

“Get some sleep.” She commands as she leaves the room, sweeping out with the decisiveness of an empress. She closes the door behind her, turns to Ganan’s room, walks up to the door… and falters. She curses herself and turns to see Udi holding a bottle of cherry-brandy.

“Drink?” She offers, leading Reya outside.

Reya casts a longing look at Ganan’s closed door, then follows Udi outside, nodding at Melody as they pass each other.

The “fresh” air of the camp reeks. Volcanic sulfur from the manse above is the least of it: the camp holds thousands of people in crudely constructed shelters. The winter cold has encouraged dozens of campfires, and no shortage of fuel in the form of dung and bodies. The sweat of drilling soldiers and stink of human effluence is omnipresent – kept from being overpowering only by the brilliance of Berit’s camp design.

Udi sits on a tree-stump, and Reya joins her, wrinkling her nose as Udi passes her the bottle. Reya takes a large swig: the drink is cheap and sweet, it burns the throat with every swallow – hardly fit for human consumption, let alone fit for the Princes of Earth.

“Aharon isn’t much fun tonight,” Udi explains as she lays a hand on Reya’s thigh.

Reya picks up Udi’s hand by the wrist and dumps it back in Udi’s lap. She takes another swig of liquor then hands the bottle back, “Neither am I.” She says grimly.

Udi nods somberly, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. But I couldn’t just let that Anathema kill you and Aharon.” She takes a drink.

Reya exhales heavily. She is too tired to sigh. Too drained to be angry with Udi for endangering her child. “You did the right thing.”

Udi studies her carefully, then raises her eyebrows suggestively, “You really don’t want to?” She inclines her head towards the beds inside the hut, “You look like you need it.” She offers Reya the bottle again.

Reya takes the bottle and puts it to her lips. The fierce rotgut reminds her of her childhood with Udi – of sneaking away and doing everything their elders disapproved of. A simpler time when she was happy. “I do.” She admits, “But I need him more, and I’m not going to make things worse between us. Between all of us.”

Udi stands and turns to face Reya, “Then why didn’t you go into his room just now? You’re not acting like the Danireya I know: not the girl who lived by our motto, not the woman who united Mnemon and V’neef to take the throne.”

Reya frowns and recites their childhood motto listlessly, “Want, take, have.”

Udi seizes her with one hand, squeezing her cheeks between her fingers, and recites with force, “Want. Take. Have.” She holds Reya’s gaze, studying her face, “The next time we’re attacked by Anathema, I don’t to die because you are off your game and the cripple is mooning over you. So, if you’re not going to at least give me a pity-fuck before we get killed, then you are going to march in there and make-up with your husband!” She lets go of her face.

Reya smiles at her old friend, “You’d die to get a pity-fuck from me? Sextus Jylis, how bad is Aharon in bed?”

Udi laughs easily, “He’s not that bad. I’m just trying to motivate you. Come on Rey-Rey: you can have Ganan wrapped around your little finger in sixty seconds. Two minutes tops. His tantrum is hurting our effectiveness as a unit.”

Reya looks at her earnestly, “But he’s right.” Her eyes implore her to disagree with her, to take her side.

“Of course he’s right!” Udi’s blunt reply hits Reya like a fist, “Rey-Rey, we’re marching on the Imperial City tomorrow. I am marching, with my lover and my ex-lover, against my husband’s house. Tomorrow. Nolan… he’ll be there. In the City. We keep tabs on the Wyld Hunt Chapters: Oban’s forces have been raiding The Azimuth Spire. It sits right in the path of the Cathak supply lines. Cathak Setod dispatched Nolan weeks ago to get support from the Emperor – Cathak reinforcements returned, Nolan did not, and payment of the Spire’s lease has stopped. It doesn’t matter who is right or what baggage we’re carrying. We’re past all that now; we have to win.”

Reya winces and rises. She wants to reach out to her friend, but something stops her. Instead, she stands straight, “I’m sorry.” She offers – her voice clear and bold.

Udi shrugs, affecting carelessness, “He’s always been ambitious. He only joined the Wyld Hunt because his elders gave him no other choice – with the uncertainty caused by the empty throne, they didn’t want him upsetting the established order. Now Cainan is on the Throne… it was inevitable.”

Reya hugs her. Udi tenses for a moment then goes slack and returns the hug. “We’re going to win.” Reya reassures her, “You don’t have to worry about Ganan.” She returns the bottle of brandy, and says in her best matriarchal voice, “Get some rest. Consider that an order.”

Reya goes back inside, makes her way to Ganan’s room, and reaches for the door handle as Melody opens the door from the inside.

****

Melody smiles at Reya and looks back to Ganan, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Ganan looks at Reya and opens his mouth, then closes it. He feels his heart hammering in his chest and hears the words, “I’m sorry,” being spoken. It takes him a moment to realize they’ve both said it at the same time. He smiles at her weakly.

Reya enters the room, closes the door, walks past Ganan, and sits on the cot. Ganan sits on the ground at her feet and looks up at her. She lays her hands in her lap, and Ganan reaches for her, holding her left hand in both of his. “I have taken you for granted,” Reya says, “You’re right. About Dovak, and House Nellens and everything. I have lost track of what’s important. I thought I could have it all.”

Ganan shakes his head, “You did what you had to do. I don’t like it: I can’t pretend to like it. But I can ignore it if it saves our lives and the Realm.”

Reya smiles at him, “I’m glad I can tell you don’t mean that.”

Ganan beams back at her, “I can wait until after the war to kill Nellens Mirar.”

Reya scoffs at him, “Can you hold onto that grudge until it’s politically expedient?”

“No, the moment Mnemon’s butt touches the throne he’s a dead-man. Unrelated: teach me how to summon a Stormwind Rider.”

Reya giggles and tries to stand-up, “No!”

Ganan rises from the ground and traps her in a tight embrace. “I’ll just be away from you longer if you make me hunt him down on an Agata.” He jokes.

Face flushed, Reya looks at her husband, “And what about Tinkara?”

Ganan shrugs, “I’ll get her next time we’re in Dovak. So, she’s probably okay.” His tone is teasing and playful.

Reya’s smile falls, “I am still the Satrap.” She probes him, “We’re going back after the war.”

Ganan releases her, “You can’t be serious. With everything happening… everywhere. The Bull, The Mask of Winters, the demons, the bloody Peleps WIP!”

Reya looks at him seriously, “If the new Empress wants to deploy us elsewhere, we’ll go where we’re told. I have no personal desire to return to Dovak, Gan. But that’s my assignment for my House – I have a duty.”

Ganan knits his brow in consternation. Reya doesn’t let him think about it, and she pulls him in for a kiss. She tastes of cherries and Ganan’s body relaxes.

Reya breaks the kiss and looks up at him, “One problem at a time. Let’s survive this war before we worry about what happens next, agreed?”

Ganan smiles at her and lifts her onto the bed, “Agreed.”

****

*Smut*

Reya breaks the kiss and looks up at him, “One problem at a time. Let’s survive this war before we worry about what happens next, agreed?” He can still taste the alcohol and cherries on her breath.

He smiles at her and lifts her onto the bed, “Agreed.”

Breathlessly, Reya reaches out for Ganan, grabbing him by the white-linen of his shirt. The fabric is cool under her fingers and opens easily as she tugs Ganan close. Wanting to feel him close to her; wanting to erase the pain of distance between them.

As graceful as Ganan tries to be, fitting two people into a military cot an exercise in clumsiness. A numbing shock runs up his arm as he bangs his elbow on the hut’s wooden walls trying not to fall heavily on top of Reya. Elation swells in his chest: erasing the pain of his broken heart and throbbing elbow. Fumbling out of his shirt, he tosses it aside; the night air chills his skin as he becomes aware of the warmth beneath him.

Reya reaches for his pants, but a twinge of guilt runs through her as she tries not to think about the aspects of their fight left unresolved. Did it still count as make-up sex if they were just going to have the same fight again next week?

Ganan chuckles innocently, mistaking her sudden reticence for clumsiness: he stands back up, out of Reya’s reach, and slips off his pants and boots.

Ganan’s throaty laughter brings Reya back to the present – they might be dead next week. They might die tomorrow: marching on the Imperial City still seems like suicide to her. She flicks her eyes over Ganan’s nude body: the light in the barracks is dim, and she sees him as much in her imagination as she does with her eyes. She starts at his large feet, set in a broad stance; her eyes flow up over his well-muscled legs; his rapidly engorging manhood swells with a life of its own, slapping against his thigh; her gaze lingers for a moment on his sculpted abs. Once, she thinks, his skin would have been the same shade as Udi's – or Jin's – before his mastery of sorcery changed him forever. She can't see his scars: the wounds inflicted upon him by the Anathema Shavok, and the many, many surgeries to restore him to health, have faded even over the decades of their marriage.

An Age seems to pass as Reya stares at Ganan's torso in the gloaming. He watches her watching him: her thoughts inscrutable. But the night air is cold, and his desire burns hot. He takes matters – and one of her boots – into his own hands and begins to strip her.

Reya offers no resistance as Ganan pulls off her boots. His shift from stillness to motion makes her realize she was holding her breath, and she exhales, slowly, exalting in the feeling of pressure leaving her body. Finally, she looks up at his chest: hard muscles under bronze-tinted, olive skin. But even in the twilight, she can see the black-ink tattoo between his pecks: two characters rendered in exquisite penmanship. The memory of straddling him to hammer her name into his chest brings a smile to her face. She raises her hips to let Ganan strip her out of her pants.

Ganan snakes his hands up Reya's legs, feeling her body beneath his fingertips. She reacts to his touch, pushing against him and pulling away, bucking involuntarily. Saliva fills his mouth as his fingers find her waistband and bring her pants down, exposing her sex. Without looking he tosses her pants in the pile of his discarded clothes, and, without thinking he moves his head down for a taste of her.

Reya lays a hand across her mons and stops his head with her other hand. Ganan looks up at her like a wounded puppy, and his erection strains to its full girth (bobbing softly up and down).

"Who do you belong to?" Reya's voice is soft and sensual, but also strangely formal.

Ganan swallows the lump in his throat, "You." He whispers hoarsely.

"Who's your matriarch?" She continues, a hard edge entering her tone. She takes the hand away from her mons and strokes Ganan's face. The smell of her sex is intoxicating.

Ganan locks eyes with her as his heart-beat quickens and his cock throbs, as he breathes out, "You," again.

"Who's your Empress?" Reya smiles wickedly at him and cocks a single eyebrow daring defiance even as she removes her hands from his face.

"You."

Reya exaggeratedly puts her hands behind her head (in a gesture of smug superiority) and flicks her eyes away from Ganan's and towards her cunt, "Well? Then worship your empress!"

Ganan doesn't need to be told twice: his hungry tongue sweeps over her desperate sex. She clamps his head between her thighs and her hands find the rough sweep of his closely cropped hair as she tries to pin him in place. He loves making her gasp. Short, sharp hisses and gulps of air, torn almost unwillingly from her. Such a deep satisfaction from making her lose control even as she takes control. The world outside of her pussy, her thighs, and her hands falls away to nothing as he focuses solely on the task his empress has set him.

Ganan’s hands probe for her wetness, but her legs are pinned together like a vice around him and he cannot bring his fingers to bear. Instead, he grabs her by her fleshy cheeks, squeezing and massaging as he pulls her close to his mouth. They grip each other in powerful need. She thrusts against him, rocking her hips as he licks from clit to cunt with broad strokes of his flat tongue. Excitement gives way to frustration and gasps transition to moans. Reya’s legs relax fractionally, and Ganan works a hand between them and slips two thick fingers inside her as his tongue sweeps circles around the epicenter of her pleasure.

His breathing goes heavy and he can feel the blood pumping in his ears as she presses against him. His fingers find her g-spot and rub against her in rhythm with his tongue. His body goes slack, his mind goes blank, and now he isn’t just focusing on her pleasure: nothing else exists in Creation. Reya relaxes her legs, feeling the tension drain from her lover as he gives himself over entirely to her pleasure. Her hands release his head and grip the sides of the cot as she feels her climax grow. The muscles in her abdomen tighten as her sweet moans fill the room. A shiver runs through her and then a sudden tension. Her body arcs, like a bow drawn tight. The heat builds inside her. Her clit like a hard bead of jade under Ganan’s tongue.

“Gan!” She cries out as she peaks.

Her cunt goes into a wild spasm around Ganan’s fingers, clamping down hard enough to hurt. She moans and shakes as his tongue continues to work her, his fingers going still, as she rides the wave of her pleasure. Fractionally he eases the pressure, but not the pace of his tongue. From gasps to moans, Reya now transitions to shrieks of pleasure as the relentless working of his tongue drives her on to new heights of pleasure. Constant, mounting, unrelenting stimulation. A machine commanded into action.

“Oh fuck!” She cries out again and as a few droplets of squirt splatter his face.

The squirt breaks his reverie: it exhilarates him, and he pulls his fingers from her to feast on her slopping wet hole. His tongue probes her as deep as he can, his face pressed against her sex as he greedily eats her out.

At last, the tension in her body fades and he looks up at her.

“Your face is wet.” She giggles, and her hands find his arms, pulling him close to her.

Ganan’s cock, still hard – achingly hard – sways between their legs. Reya draws her knees up and her hands clasp Ganan’s sex-soaked face. His tongue enters her mouth as his penis slips into the velvet folds of her intimacy. For a moment, they lie still together, kissing and licking. Reya continues to giggle as her hands wipe his face. His cock presses deep against her, and slowly he begins to drive into her.

“You taste so good.” He breathes into her ear as his cock plunges deep inside of her. Each thrust is sickeningly slow: tension evident in every motion as he restrains himself – forcing an uncharacteristic gentleness. He kisses behind her ear in tender apology for his jealousy and unspoken infidelity. Languidly his moves his mouth down her neck, planting kisses over the orichalcum encasing her skin. Resenting the distance between them, he opens her blouse, deftly stripping her top off between thrusts.

She digs her nails into his back, urging him to go harder and faster. She may as well be spurring on a stone for the good it does her. His hands clasp her arms and he holds her as if he were afraid she would break beneath him, and his pace doesn’t change, even as she arches her back and grinds against him. Blood wells up under her fingers as she breaks the skin.

He kisses her shoulder and whispers words of endless love. He trails kisses across the orichalcum covering her collar bone and she throws her head back in delight, pressing her body against his. He looks her in the eye and says two words, his voice low and sincere.

“I’m sorry.”

Her orgasm takes her by surprise. It seizes her with unexpected fierceness, rocking her body like an earthquake. He pulls her close. She rests her head against his shoulder and sobs against him. Tears fall openly from his eyes as he finally quickens his pace in time with her wracking sobs. She shudders under him as every thrust seems to draw out an aftershock – a tremor of release, not quite a peak, but a pulse of pleasure.

And then his mouth is back on hers, crushing it in his kiss. His hands push her breasts together playing with them, kneading and massing them. His tears fall on her face and she moans into his mouth as their tongues dance together. Reya’s sobbing is subsumed by her desire: transubstantiated into

They climax together. One body. One motion. One beating heart.

Their passion merges together as Ganan thrusts through their orgasm. Hard and deep. Intense and sensual. He floods her with the torrent of his Eros, breaking their kiss only to rest his forehead against hers. Reya knows a moment of perfect peace. Ganan twitches inside her as his orgasm subsides – his breathing hard and ragged.

Reya struggles out from under him, so they can lay side by side. The cot is far too small for it to be a comfortable experience, but there’s a need to be together that runs deeper than the cold of the room. Reya idly traces her name on his chest, as Ganan lays a protective hand on the small of her back over her tattoo. They speak in unison the one thing on both of their minds:

"I love you."

****

Meanwhile

Melody smiles at Reya and looks back to Ganan, “I’ll leave you to it.”

She closes the door and walks out on them, then, as the walls of the shack are disturbingly thin, she resolves to seek out Berit. She finds her without difficulty.

“Something troubling you, Dragonlord?” Berit asks looking up at her.

“I’ve fixed Danireya,” She announces, “But yes, we’ve heard Thorns has laid siege to Lookshy. How goes that war?”

Berit grits her teeth, “One problem at a time.”

“How is it even a problem?” Melody folds her arms across her chest, “The Seventh Legion has thousands of Dragon-Blooded. Their First Age arsenal is as large as our own. They’ve managed to hold off the Realm for centuries. Thorns was just a Satrapy, is the Mask of Winters really powerful enough to destroy Lookshy?”

Berit uncorks a bottle of wine and pours them both a glass, “There’s a thousand miles between Thorns and Lookshy proper. Whilst we had our eyes on Jiara then our hands at each other’s throats, the Mask of Winters had his operatives sowing discord through the Scavenger Lands. He made alliances with the other Anathema, unleashed plagues, incited riots and rebellions. The Seventh Legion was scattered over the entire River Province, dealing with bandits and putting down rebellions when winter hit – and that’s when the Mask marched his forces.”

Melody watches carefully and bids Berit to continue.

“Snow fell, the dead marched. Lookshy sallied out with their airships and Warstriders – unable to bring a full infantry force to bear with their Legion scattered. And then… something. Sabotage, treachery, or negligence – we don’t know. But we do know that most of their First Age Arsenal sallied out, but only a fraction of it limped back – before they even managed to engage the enemy. The rest of the Scavenger Lands has been back-footed: it has taken them some time to put together a relief force and winter has hindered them further and the dead have settled into a siege. Lookshy is well fortified – they have implosion bows and stranger weapons in numbers that I envy, and even with the Seventh Legion scattered throughout the Scavenger Lands there are thousands of Exalted within the walls. Even with ghostly saboteurs and Anathema infiltrators, the Mask’s forces can’t break into the city. But they are ravaging the settlements around the city and fouling the farmland. Strange necromancy is at work, and the Mask’s army is bolstered by demonic servants. Which is new. Our scholars believed that necromancy could not be used to summon demons, but it seems we are mistaken.”

Melody considers, “But even so, he can’t win… can he?”

Berit shakes her head, “I don’t know. His army has strange war-machines, like unto the ancient devices of the First Age but twisted with unholy power. And they say that Juggernaut of his is a mile long. And that the ‘Deathlord’ himself is more formidable than any Nephwrack or Anathema. It would seem that with the spring thaw, Nexus will send an army and the Lookshy redoubts will march to break the siege. But that only raises the question-”

“Why would the Mask of Winters start a war he can’t win? House Ledaal has been saber-rattling: I know Cainan wanted to march on Thorns, but suicide-by-Lookshy? It doesn’t make sense.”

Berit doesn’t have an answer for her, “House Ledaal wants to break off the war now: follow through on Cainan’s plan and march on Thorns, take the city back whilst the Mask’s army is a thousand miles away and evacuate the citizens. I’ve not allowed it: we need our navy to take the Imperial City. Once my sister is seated on the throne, we shall reassess the situation in Lookshy.”

Berit finishes her drink, “You’d better get some sleep. We have an early start in the morning.”

****

Melody spends 8XP to train Flesh-Sealing Flame Technique.
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Dynasty of Dovak