Things had taken a decided turn for the worst since Thorne and Tevin’s confrontation yesterday. For one, Tayne had somehow been shoved into yet another honourable quest, completely and totally against his will, though in the manner it was done left no room for refusal. The quest being the destruction of literally everyone associated with the abusive slaver that had come into temporary possession of Amelia Von’Faygan herself.
This in itself was pretty shit, yet just to push the blade in further, it turned out that Tayme Balmar seemed to be associated or related with almost every slaver in Sulpi. To effectively follow through on his vow, Thorne, and by association Tayne, would quite literally have to eradicate slavery. So… the logical answer to this in Tayne’s opinion would be for Thorne to turn around, throw his hands in the air and exclaim “well fuck that!”, yet even more unfortunately it turned out that the Bloodthorne had a thing about vows, a weird almost-rule type thing that he lived by. He didn’t break them. Tay felt to laugh almost hysterically at this admission, to cry with laughter whilst he explained he broke a vow with almost every step, every word that left his mouth, he was even breaking a vow not to break a vow right now! But to do that would blow his cover, to reveal him for the fraud that he was. He was quite literally fucked.
For what seemed like the millionth time, Tayne spat a glob of sandy spit from his mouth to clear it once more of the miniscule, inescapable gritty grains that lined his cheeks. The sandstorm that had sprung from nowhere was just the icing in the cake. A quick tug at the blue and green patterned scarf he had wrapped over his head and mouth fixed the thick piece of fabric back in place, a guard against the furious stinging winds laced with seemingly razor sharp grains that pounded his body relentlessly. The group moved in silence for talk was impossible under the howl of the wind and the pitter patter as grains hit solids.
Thorne tapped Tay’s arm as he motioned off in the distance, the long rich blue robe that all five men wore flapped crazily out behind him, whipped into strange shapes as the powerful wind took hold. What the fuck is he on about? Fuck it. Don’t care. The degenerate had long since resigned himself to this incredibly boring, incredibly dangerous, incredibly impossible task, for what other choice did he have? In response to the Head Guard’s frantic motions Tayne Halmar began to trudge in the direction indicated, the Bloodthorne in step beside him with Tevin, Javid and the man the lads had taken to calling Bumfluff since Tayne’s little slip of the tongue. Beoflum had taken this in his stride, his suddenly pale face filled with worry as he glanced at Thorne who glared back with an anger filled gaze. Of course Tay knew why. No doubt his son or Tevin had reported back that the coward had fled the battle when they had been in danger, what Tayne didn’t know, was why he was here. He shrugged as he walked. Don’t care.
Eventually something began to reveal itself off in the distance, something large and dark as if a hole was slowly appearing within the very sands itself. A cave! A flood of happiness at the thought of escaping the storm even for a moment raged through Tay’s veins as his pace increased his step merry… Until he recalled their objective, the quest as Thorne referred to it, though in the degenerate’s own opinion it was more “the suicide mission”. Fuck. Entering the cave mouth was a weird sensation – as if the group had passed some sort of invisible barrier that blocked the sound, halted the sand and stilled the wind. Almost eerie in its calm, the silent motionless air fresh in his nostrils as each and every one of them inhaled deeply, their scarves pulled free to hang loose from shoulders down toward the rocky ground.
“Lord Boeflum.” Thorne’s voice cut the silence with a dark tone, the hackles on Tayne’s neck immediately standing on end.
“My Lord?” Hesitation clear in the man’s voice as he replied timidly.
“The help you sought when the fight kicked off, who did you flee too?”
“I-I went to find…”
“You went to find?”
“The guards my lord, I went to find the guards!”
“My men? Those that live in the compound within the barracks, no?” Thorne’s expression grew as dark as his tone.
“Yes my Lord.” The man had begun to shake, his entire body vibrated with fear as the Bloodthorne began to approach.
“Then why, may I ask, were you seen in western Sulpi at your Manor house, I quote “Hiding behind the curtains like a little Bitch”” He shrugged as his blade began to leave it’s scabbard, “Okay, a minor embellishment, partial quote.” The coward’s eyes were locked to Thorne’s sword as it cleared its sheath. “Do you know what I hate more than cowards Boeflum?” The man shook his head in terror. “Liars.” Stated the head Guard as his sword made a quick upward arc, Lord Boeflum’s head suddenly in the air above his body before it descended to the ground with a thud. Fuck. It wasn’t even the cold blooded murder that sent a chill down Tayne’s spine… No it was his words. What bigger liar was there than he? The saliva in Tay’s throat suddenly dried up at the thought of what Thorne would do should he ever find out.
Lord Von’Faygan spat on the headless corpse as he walked away, Tevin and Javid jeered happily over the heinous act as if it had been some sort of pantomime, the entire situation seemed so twistedly surreal. Ah. A click of mental clarity ensued. I need to be drunk.