The Temptation of Gheeran

"By the shrivelled dick of the Soul-Forger, elf. Would ye mind where ye're bloody walking?" he spat.

"Why did you stop in the first place?" I asked him.

"Listen."

I cocked my head and strained my ears. Around me, I heard the noises of the city. People talking, children yelling at each other, the occasional cockerel, dogs barking..

"City noise." I said, shrugging.

"What did I told ya about walking with me?" he barked.

"Umm... 'Always know where ye are, elf?'"

"Damn right ye are. So?"

"Hm. Unless you lost your way, we should be pretty close to the market, right?"

"Aye. So?"

I puzzled over his strange behaviour, then it hit me. There were no peddlers trying ot outcry each other. In fact, it was way too quiet, apart from what sounded like a lot of people talking to each other.

"No market?" I asked him.

"Sounds like. Let's find out what this is about, shall we?"

We rounded the last few corners and my suspicion proved correct. No stalls, no criers hawking their wares, no nice smells of roasting meat or fresh veggies. And most curious of all, we got intercepted by two guards.

"Oh, it's you Harok. How are you?" one of them asked my companion. I even heard him snap off a smart salute.

"I would feel better if I knew where the blasted market has gone," the dwarf snapped back.

"Oh, that's right. Market's closed for today. Lady Dunwall wants to make a public appearance."

"One of the five Storm Lords herself, eh? That should be fun," Harok said. "May we pass?"

"No throwing stuff at her, you hear?" the guard cautioned him.

"Me? Throwing stuff at her? Ye know I love that lass to bits," the dwarf said. To my amazement, there wasn't even a hint of his customary venom in his statement. Intrigued, I followed him as he ploughed a way through the throng. The smell got progressively worse the further we went. Eventually, Harok stopped. I could hear steps at about face level creaking on wooden boards. They had erected some kind of stage on the market place and people were busy doing the gods only knew what up there. The people around us were shoving and jostling like crazy. I had to grab Harok's shoulder. This was twice as bad as that one time when I first came here.

"Calm down, people, calm down," a booming voice commanded. A voice I knew. It had to be Leo, the paladin, and his voice held enough authority to actually calm the jostling mob around us.

"I give you... Lady Keira Dunwall," Leo proclaimed amidst a chorus of rousing cheers. I noticed Harok pumping his fist in the air. Then a hush set in. Maybe this Lady Dunwall had waved her hand imploringly. Or she had realized what kind of people were cheering at her and was scowling at us. I knew that our own nobles would have answered the cheers of peasants, beggars and poor people with a hail of sleep-venom tipped crossbow bolts.

"Dear friends. The time has come again for me to remind you that Storm Harbour's nobility hasn't forgotten you. We know about your plight and I am here to ease your burden." The voice was powerful, rich and filled with conviction.

"Is she serious?" I whispered at Harok amidst the cheers.

"Ye can bet yer sorry ass she is," the dwarf said. I could have been mistaken, but I thought I heard a lump in his throat. "Most nobles don't give a rat's ass about us, but she is different."

Around us, the jostling had intensified to horrifying levels as people tried to get closer to the stage. I heard the stage creak as things were handed down towards us.

"Justice commands you. Relent!" Leo shouted and the maelstrom of people around us let up somewhat. Even my frayed nerves relaxed and I breathed a lot easier. "There are enough rations for each of you." He murmured something to the people on stage and more things were handed down.

"Leo, please accompany me," I heard Lady Dunwall say. A moment later, armor rattled nearby as Leo jumped off the stage. "My hand, milady," the paladin said. I heard the rustling of heavy fabric and caught a whiff of a fresh, flowery scent, then I felt Leo's imposing presence towering over me.

"Gheeran," he said by way of greeting. I nodded his way, much more interested in what this strange noblewoman was doing. I heard her talk to some people, at one point she called for a cleric to heal a woman's child and paying for the spell out of her own pocket. Then she turned towards Harok.

"How are you doing, sir?" she asked, as if she was talking to an esteemed peer.

"I'm still alive and well enough, apart from me eyes, but thank ye kindly for asking, yer Ladyship," Harok said.

"Sir?" I had to ask.

"Before his regrettable accident, Sir Harok was a valiant Hero of Storm Harbour," Leo answered in Harok's stead.

"Yeah, and I sent that bloody orc shaman who torched off my face to the Burning Pits," Harok said through gritted teeth.

"One would think your city would care better for its honored warriors then," I had to say. I could feel Lady Dunwall's stern gaze sweep over me.

"And who might you be?" she asked, a hint of steel in her voice.

"Gheeran's the name. I'm on an extended visit to your fair city. And Harok is so kind to show me how to survive as a blind man." I bowed with a brittle smile. "I was just wondering why you're doing all this," I said, encompassing everything around us with a sweep of the arm.

"Because I genuinely care," Lady Dunwall said. "One has to be especially cruel not to notice the people suffering. Storm Harbour is as much their home as it is mine and I am obligated by my honor as a Storm Lord to help as much as I can."

"Why not build a home for injured veterans?" I cheekily asked her.

"Because I don't want to sit around on my ass all day, being pampered as if I were already dyin'," Harok growled. "I'd rather fight on day after day."

"A monthly pension then?" I suggested with a smile challenging her.

"If we were to pay every man or woman wounded in the service to our city even a single gold piece each week for the rest of their lives, we wouldn't have enough coin to afford a single healthy soldier," Lady Dunwall patiently explained. I admired her restraint. A Drow Mother would have cut my heart out for daring to second-guess her, let alone challenge her decisions.

"No," she went on, "the only thing I can do is to use some of my own fortune to organize these ration drops and to see what other aid I can muster. I know it's not much, and it's certainly less than these people deserve, but it's the best I can do."

"And we're really grateful for anything you can spare, yer Ladyship," Harok said. I noticed movements next to us and a moment later, someone pressed a big, soft, squarish something into my arms. It was wrapped in coarse, heavy fabric and had some heft to it.

"If you'll excuse us, we have other people to take care of," Leo said, gently pushing past me.

"Until next we meet and may the Soul-Forger bless ye!" Harok called. Nudging my ribs with his elbow, he whispered, "That's one tough lass, ain't she?"

"She seems sincere," I conceded. "But how much of it is her honest self?"

"You think too much. Me? I'm grateful for this, and so far she's the only one of the Storm Lords to bother with us street folk. I've never seen high and mighty Urs the Sailor move his noble ass out here, nor that dang cleric of Mercy, whatsisname. But Keira Dunwall? She even came out during one of the worst blizzards in recent memories, personally giving out blankets and hot grog and dragging the frozen corpses out of doorways. If that isn't dedication, I dunno what is."

"I'll have to think on this. Do you still want to go to that veteran meeting?" I asked, handing him the package I was holding. I had no need for this. Yet. Harok swiftly took it and stowed it only he knew.

"Aw, fuck that. A new set o' clothes, some decent food and a few coins beat getting drunk any day. How about it? I know a fine butcher around here. Let's get some decent hot sausauges and then it's time to see what's in the packages."

* * * *

Rokun's prophecy about the cane's helpfulness eventually turned out correct. Once I made my way from the secluded back alleys into the bigger streets, I realized a lot less people jostling me. But I noticed a lot more mothers yanking their children out of my way and murmured complaints directed at me. Navigating the streets also became much easier. As a drow, I was used to making mental maps, and compared to the Depths, where even a tiny quake or the shifting of the earth could alter the terrain for miles around, a city proved to be relatively stable in its geography.

One thing I couldn't get used to were the gobs of shit I regularly stumbled into. Horses, dogs, people—it seemed every living soul used the streets of Storm Harbour as their personal latrine, and my cane was ill-equipped to warn me of those hazards, since the ball at the end slid through most non-solid matters. I toyed with the idea of having Muffins walk with me, but Zejka shot down these plans, insisting that her furry friend stayed at the Godling. Nonetheless, the dog and I got along splendidly, thanks to the occasional bit of meat which "accidentally" dropped off my plate.

Part Three: Winter

"Time for yer graduation," Harok said one morning in the eleventh month. We were walking and shivering through the streets together as usual. One of his hands held his cane, the other a dented metal bowl. To protect his paltry earnings against over-eager street urchins and pickpockets, he had a wooden cover made for it, with a slot just big enough for a thick coin or small gems. It seemed there were enough gentle souls out there taking pity on the smelly pile of rags.

"Graduation? You know how these things work down Below?" I asked in a wry tone.

In drow society, only Priestesses graduated. They had to sacrifice a living drow male as a sign of their devotion to our twisted goddess, the Chaos Queen, and as a reward for their offering, She sent a Handmaiden, a monstrous demon woman with eight spider legs, to show Her favor. Which consisted in the Handmaiden fucking the soon-to-be priestess until she was a sobbing, bleeding mess. No wonder our women were the most ill-tempered beings you could imagine. But the frenzied orgies surrounding there rituals were fun, some of the best times you could have as a male.

"Yeah, I heard o'that. But don't get yer hopes up, Gheeran. Me ass is mine and mine alone," Harok grumbled. "Nah. Ye'll be brought to tha Land Gate and have ta find yer way back home. Once you can do that, there is naught I could teach ya."

"We haven't been there yet," I complained.

"Yer wrong," Harok chuckled. He tapped the tip of his cane against something. By the sound of it, it was large and made mostly of wood, like a huge door wing maybe?

"Wait, how did we—?"

"Ye shouldn't just tag along. I told ye time and time again. Even with friends, always know where ye are. So. Be seein' ya."

"Hey, wait! You can't leave me here!" I yelled, but I could hear his rheumy laugh receding, punctuated by the steady clacking of his cane. I debated if I should just call a Guard, to lead me back to the Toothless Godling, but then I shrugged.

A challenge? Good. I was blind, but I was still a follower of the Trickster and a proud member of Ya'tyrr's fearless band of ne'er-do-wells. I wouldn't let a rotting, stinking old gutter dwarf beat me.

With a grim smile tugging at my lips, I sorted my thoughts. Storm Harbour was also known as "The Crescent by the Sea" and the Craftsmen's Quarter was near the southern tip of the city. Even if I had not consciously walked the way yet, I knew the basic layout of the city well enough. I could follow Trident Road up towards the central market and make my way along Temple Run.

But there were way too many people there. It was Market Day, and even with my cane, the masses milling down the road and on that huge plaza would be overwhelming. No. The thought alone gave me chills. To avoid the crowds, I could instead take the long way around, along the city's walls and then cut through Scholar's Rack, the district where most of Storm Harbours mages, alchemists and other practitioners of the arcane or scholastic arts resided. Yes, that ought to be a little easier to navigate. Even if I got lost there, I could make my way to the Fish Market by smell and find my way back home from there.

Whistling one of the latest tunes I'd heard in the Godling, I fumbled my way towards the wall and turned to the south. It was a long way and I had to move fast if I wanted to be at home before nightfall. I may have had contacts within the Guild, but there were enough desperate elements out there who just didn't give a crap about gutting a Guild associate if they thought they could get away with it.

Rokun had mercilessly drilled me when I wasn't out exploring with Harok, but I didn't want to press my luck. Usually, these gutter rats came in gangs, and I was lucky if I could keep up in a one-on-one. Again, I wished for my ring, but Rokun was adamant in his refusal to give it to me. First, I had to prove to be able to make do without it. Gnashing my teeth, I lengthened my strides and made my way along the Wall Run, the small alley going along the city walls. Apart from a few Guardsmen on patrol, this road was seldom used, which suited me just fine.

The walk turned out more difficult than I expected. In the shadow of the wall, the frost had no chance of thawing and I found myself walking on a surface made up of slick cobbles, half-frozen puddles of water and whatever else people dumped into the road. Maybe I should have taken Trident Road instead. Braving the masses seemed like a better idea than this balancing act. Grumbling to myself, I stumbled on.

When I noticed the hurried steps, it was already too late. I tried to slip to the side, a maneuver I had had to master early on, to avoid reckless nobles racing their prized horses through the city or guard patrols thundering along in their armors, but I was far too slow. With a massive "thud," the body crashed into me. I stumbled back, one hand going around the robed torso for balance. My foot landed on a patch of ice and slid out from under me, then I fell and felt something crack painfully in my lower back. The other party had wrapped their arm around my neck and that was the only thing keeping my head from shattering as we hit the frozen street together.

"Would you mind where you're bloody going?" I complained. My ass hurt, my head hurt and the unspeakable wetness of the road was seeping through my clothes.

"I could demand—" he began, then stopped.

"You're drow!" we exclaimed simultaneously. When I thought myself alone, I slipped into my own language, and it took me a moment to realize the other one was speaking Drow himself.

"Yeah, and I would be thankful if you would get up already. The cobbles are hardly comfortable," I grumbled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Hadn't seen you there, the sun had blinded me," he said, disentangling himself. He got up, then growled, "What, my hand not good enough for you?"

I sat up unsteadily and lowered my hood. There was the familiar gasp of shock as he beheld my ravaged features, then I felt his hand on my arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, then hauled me back onto my feet.

"For what? You didn't gouge out my eyes," I snapped, still a little irritated.

Instead of an answer, he murmured a few knotty syllables and touched my chest. I felt a slight tingling sensation course through me and the unpleasant icy wetness disappeared from my clothes, along with the smell of unwashed dark elf.

"What just happened?" I asked, rubbing my hurting tail bone.

"The least I could do, a simple Cleansing spell," he said.

"Where were you running to in such a hurry anyway?" I asked him, patting myself down. No, I hadn't lost anything, except my cane which was lying only the gods knew where. I shuffled around, hoping that my toes would bump into it.

"I was running from a few people out for my head. They saw that I was drow and decided a little mob justice for a raided village was in order. I have never seen those guys before, honest!" he complained, then stopped. "Hm, it seemed I've lost them. What's your name?"

"You're certain you've not been involved in any raiding recently?" I asked him.

"Honest. Actually, I ended up here when I tried one of my master's wands."

"The one in his robes?" I asked, my lips twisting in a frivolous grin.

"Oh, I got more than enough of that. No, I mean one of the unlabelled ones he hid in his desk. He couldn't use them any more, not after my Disintegrate hit him. By sheer accident, of course."

"Of course." So, he was a mage, and an eager one, willing to advance his career any way he could. For us dark elves, it usually meant killing our superiors. I shrugged, then introduced myself. "The name's Gheeran. And yours?"

"Kelonin, of House God'rae, at your service."

I heard fabric rustle. I realized he was doing a little bow, one of those stupid drow rituals. He was showing me he wasn't afraid to lower his guard in front of me. Which meant he was under the influence of some defensive spell or other. Then he straightened up. "Just a moment. Did you say 'Gheeran?'"

Now it was my turn to tense. I slipped one hand under my cloak and willed the hilt of my dagger into it. Obediently, the weapon appeared and I prepared for a strike. If a stranger knew who I was, things could get nasty real quick.

"Ease up, man. I'm not here to hurt you. Don't you remember me? Your House name is Ortyl, isn't it?"

I would have raised an eyebrow in surprise, if I had one to raise. "You know my House?"

"Yeah, don't you remember? We met at my sister's Graduation. Gheleth?"

Slowly it was coming back. Ye gods, how could I forget her? Gheleth was a slip of a drow girl, quite petite, and she had barely survived the fucking the Handmaiden had given her. But just two hours after the blood had come off and her body had mended under the healing caresses of her sisters and mother, she was writhing on top of me, my rod embedded in her furiously grasping pussy, a second male was ploughing her ass, and then a slender dick grazed my lips.

"Now I remember. You couldn't decide which mouth you liked best, mine or hers," I grinned. "And you made a total mess of my face."

"Don't tell me you didn't like us licking you clean," he said. No, I didn't mind that one bit back then. The four of us had one helluva night, until Gheleth decided the third drow had to die because he bit her too hard. After that, we left her alone, writhing in the blood bubbling from his slit throat and had fun elsewhere.

A few months after that particular night, Gheleth had requested both Kel and me as part of the patrol unit she was leading. Every dark elf is required to serve their community for a few years, to be tempered in the fires of battle. Most spend this time in a patrol unit, scouring the caverns around their respective communities for threats and opportunities for glory. Afterwards, one could join the military full-time, becoming part of the dreaded raiding units or return to one's House. Or in my case, run away from it all.

Anyway, while travelling through the Depths, a rival House had launched an attempt on House God'rae, trying to improve their own standing within the city's pecking order by wiping them off the map. For this to succeed, all members of the family had to die, so no one could press charges before the Ruling Council. Lucky for Geleth and Kelonin, I overheard two members of my patrol plotting their assassination. When they crept into the tent Gheleth, Kel and I were sharing, intent on slitting our throats, we were ready for them.

"Just imagine. After all these years we meet in this godforsaken place," Kelonin laughed. I shook my head. And I thought finding a willing virgin in the wilds outside Storm Harbour was unlikely!