Perversions of the Flesh

“All of that happened before breakfast? Sounds like an awful wake-up,” Minnie said as they trekked their way out of The Foothill’s Rest.

“Wish Orenous was squished against me. Ye an’ Rosalyn got the luck. Didn’t even get tae touch ‘er arse.” Now that Kat was thoroughly over the events of the morning, she’d been pouting about not getting to snuggle the godly butt she’d been ogling since Orenous had made her first appearance. “I’ve been teased fer way too long!”

“It was nice. Imagine waking up to that sandwiching two dicks. Surprised I wasn’t…” Ann glanced over her shoulder at Bren and Lucia, who were actively talking to each other. They were probably drowning them out. “Busting all over her the second I woke up.”

“And she has the warmest hugs. Oh my Gods, I love them so much. Want another!”

Kat playfully swatted Rosalyn’s horn. “Share wit’ me, love.”

“Hey, you two got a kiss from her. I didn’t.”

“Girls, girls, your dresses are all pretty,” Minnie giggled at the trio’s antics. “Boggles my mind how active the Gods are with you all. Merde, thought that was something from old wives’ tales. Some great hero that’d be blessed by the Gods to take down the great evil! Here’s the real deal, and she’s going mining with me.” Minnie laughed to herself. “Get to help out the hero herself.”

“Oh my god, please,” Ann sighed. “That whole hero thing’s enough pressure without everyone reminding me.”

“I don’t mean to argue, but wouldn’t it be great to have people just want to help you because you’re a hero?” Minnie asked.

Kat groaned, wiping her gloved hand over her face. “Think o’ it like this. Ye’re the best damn smith in the north, aye? Ye’ve got a reputation fer it, but ye’ve never made a shovel. Hell, ye’ve never actually prospected yer own metal.”

“That’s absolutely not how this works.”

Kat grinned, but nodded at the indignant smith. “Might ‘ave some o’ the details wrong, but ‘ear me out. Say that’s where ye’re at, an’ someone walks in on ye practisin’ makin’ a shovel. It’s bent tae shit, an’ brittle. Then ye ‘ave this person hearin’ this larger’n life version o’ ye ‘ave all that crashin’ down on ‘em. Ye don’t want that, right?”

Minnie shook her head. “No.”

“And ye’d feel like shite fer lettin’ ‘em down, right?”

“I mean, I guess.”

“Same thing. I’m a feckin’ princess. Can’t tell ye how many years it took fer me tae get outta Junia’s shadow an’ make people understand I’m not this prissy proper li’l thing. Decades. Ann’s just ‘ad months, an’ I reckon ‘er public image is growin’ way faster.”

“The public perception is a difficult beast to tame,” Bren said, joining them now that their flirting was over, for now. “When you can escape its expectations, life becomes much simpler.”

Minnie nodded along, eyes still forward on their path. “Glad I don’t have to deal with that. I just get to make stuff.”

“Never know. We picked up Wendyl, and she’s probably been real busy,” Rosalyn said, kicking a rock. She watched as it dug a small line in the snow ahead of them, then kicked it again when they caught up. “All sorts are needed to keep people adventuring. Heck, we still just make do with pre-prepared food and whatever we could find. I make an alright stew, but it gets old after a bit.”

“Can grill,” Lucia pointed out.

“True, you can. Gods, I haven’t had fish in a while. I wanna. Minnie, is there a lake around here?”

Ann got unreasonably excited. “Maybe we can go ice fishing! Cut a hole in the lake and fish out of it! I think I told you guys about that when we were in the lake Seed, right?”

“Ann, we do that already. Think that one survived.” Kat patted her shoulder, but it didn’t dampen her mood. Ann could feel her tail swishing up a storm.

“Right, right, but still! We’re going to need food while we’re out doing all the mining stuff, right? If we’re close to a lake, we can get that all set up for drying the fish and cooking! Shame we don’t have beer. Would be an awesome time to get drunk.”

Lucia chuckled. “Yes. Drink good for that. Warms.”

“Well, I dunno if that’d be a smart idea anyway, what with the Warped possibly hunting us. I really don’t want to fight that thing drunk.”

Kat and Bren visibly shook. Neither of them wanted to, either. Ann was pretty sure none of them did.

The trip went suspiciously smoothly. Their alarms tripped the first night, but Lucia quickly found a deer that had wandered into the perimeter. It also let them know that they’d never changed the alarm sound from Wendyl’s frenzied moans. Ann and Kat had refused to let Bren change it, playing an intense game of keep-away with Lucia.

It was near the dawn of their third day that Minnie stopped and pointed out a rocky outcropping ahead. The granite looked like every other rock Ann had seen for the past couple days, but Minnie’s excited gesturing told her something was different.

“That’s the marker! We’re here! Let’s get camp set up!” Minnie ran ahead, scrambling over rocks like she was a relative of Keit’s.

Ann lagged behind with the goat, guiding the friendly creature over the stones, while the rest caught up with the smith. It was fun to see the woman so excited. Her energy was as infectious as Rosalyn’s or Kat’s when they got on a rant about their specialities. Maybe that was just Ann feeding off their positive vibes, social butterfly that she was starting to become.

It also gave her a moment to think. She’d been doing a lot of that during the trek. She and Waheela had been going over their forgiveness of Orenous, and how much to give Her. Ann was pretty set on just wholesale forgiving the Goddess. The woman had done something that’d not win her popularity points on her behalf. She’d argued with other Gods to try and provide heavily guarded information. That was enough for Ann.

Waheela was not nearly as easy to forgive. The old wolf never was. Regardless of her reticence, Waheela was starting to come around and was no longer openly hostile. Bren and Kat were still suspicious, but the latter had decided to let bygones be bygones. Same with Rosalyn. Lucia didn’t seem like she cared all that much.

Ann’s claws scrabbled on the stone, making Keit’s advantage on this terrain annoyingly obvious. She clutched the side of the cart as the goat lazily turned to look back at her. Those eyes seemed to say “What? This is easy?”

“Yeah, well, don’t all have hooves,” Ann grumbled, pulling herself up.

When Ann crested the ridge, she found why this cave had escaped notice. First, the rocks around the area looked… new? The broken edges were sharp and lighter than the edges on older rocks. She didn’t know much about geology but had broken her share of rocks by throwing them at other rocks for fun. Second was the outcropping of heavy vegetation. Thick scrub brush had filled the small ravine and made Ann overlook the entrance at first. Minnie’s determined path through the rough foliage fixed that. Overall, it seemed that erosion had broken the face of the mountain, revealing the cave, and that even if there had been an opening before, it was likely covered until now.

They spent the better part of an hour clearing space to set up camp. A few larger stones were flat enough for the tents, and they collected the brush for kindling. Between the tents, Rosalyn and Lucia set up a stone ring that would serve as their fire pit, surrounded by rocks lifted by Kat to serve as seats. When they were done, it was a secluded and fairly defensible place for camp. Anything above them would see the tents without issue, but anything below them wouldn’t. Still, smoke and any light after dark would give them away. There was only so much you could do.

Keit was let off her harness, allowing the goat to forage as needed. This was her home terrain, and she’d flourish out here even without their protection.

With their help, Minnie unloaded the cart of her tools, their provisions, and any extra gear they’d needed. Setting up the metal cage and hammering it into the stone was a chore, leaving Ann sweating while Minnie and Kat looked unbothered. The contraption was to keep their food safe. Animals would still be trying to get at their rations, even out here. Animals meant possible Warped attention, which meant significant increases in danger. That was completely ignoring whatever might be living in the cave.

Ann wiped her forehead as they finished up. Bren, Lucia, and Rosalyn had just returned with water from a river further downhill, and the three workers drank greedily. The dusk was drawing like a blanket over the mountainside. They were deep in the shadow of the mountain, so the sun had already disappeared. Only the reflected light from the surrounding landscapes made things visible. Crystal lanterns were turned on, and the fire was started. With their position, darkness couldn’t be the end of their day. Even then, they’d be working inside the mountain, which had no light.

Ann got to work rubbing oil into her armour. The stuff, as beaten up as it was, still needed care. Hells, it needed more care. Pockmarked from acid, stitched from various cuts and scrapes over time, the gear had served her well. The gemstones set into the various sockets for her enchantments still sparkled brightly, and she was going to be sad to see this thing go if it took too much more of a beating. Still, that was what armour was for. Better it get torn to shreds than her.

This was her most-used set of clothes, though. She traced her fingers over where Horace had gotten a hit in, then the stretched portion around her ribs where the Snail had squeezed her hard enough to warp the leather. There were plenty of newer burns and breaks, but she remembered them all.

Briefly, Ann wondered if Kat had a similar attachment to her equipment. Rosalyn obviously did, but the princess had gotten a lot more gear than she had. Looking around, she realised the Druid had wandered off. And Kat still needed a damn helmet. Then Ann’s eyes fell on the sword at her side. It was her old blade, with the round pommel inlaid with the Farragher seal. As Ann watched, Kat took the sword from its scabbard and started oiling it. Kinda funny how much oil was used in maintaining their gear. You would have thought magic would have worked something else out. Maybe it was an “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it” kind of situation. Tangent aside, Kat clearly cared for that sword. It was obvious to anyone who watched her lovingly wipe the blade down, then make sure the mouth of the scabbard was clean before re-sheathing it. Ann had never asked how old the sword was.

“Hey, Kat. How old is your old sword?” Ann asked.

“Hm, this?” Kat lifted the sheathed weapon. “Feck, twenty-some odd years, I think. Had it since the thing was a greatsword fer me size. Grew intae it.”

“Ever give it a name, like Complacency?” Ann set the corset aside and started working on her shin guards. The metal needed cleaning, and the leather polishing.

“I did, once. Decided namin’ me weapons isn’t fer me. It… didn’t last.”

Ann raised a curious eyebrow. The sad memories in the woman’s tone tugged at her heart. “Girlfriend?”

“What was tha’?” Kat asked distractedly.

“Did you name it after a girlfriend?”

Kat didn’t answer for a minute. “Aye. It was one o’ the ones I got… protective o’er. Thought she might be the one. Bren’s got a whole list o’ women I fell ears o’er heels fer. Then I fecked it up, an’ this became my sword again.” Kat lifted the weapon, turning it in the firelight. “Just me sword. In a way, I think it’s better like tha’. It’s mine. Protected me as much as me shields ‘ave. Reckon you’re gonna feel the same way about yer gauntlets after some time.”

Ann looked over at the midnight blue metal gloves with their sparkling pink hearts. They definitely were beat up, and needed work whenever she ran into Pile again, but the Bultrite weapons had definitely served her well. They felt like a second skin at this point. “Think I already know what you’re talking about. Was just kinda ruminating on my armour, and how it’s gonna need to get replaced soon. It’s really held up well for what I’ve put it through.”

“What was that leatherworker’s name?”

“Who, Reva?”

“Aye. If we can, lets see if she can make the next set fer ye. Get a message back tae Graven Keep wit’ the order. She’s got yer measurements, after all.”

“True.”

“A good crafter is someone you hold on to tightly,” Bren said as he joined them. None of his things needed maintenance, so he used the time for some reading.

Lucia was as deep into weapon maintenance as the other two were. Fillianore was half taken apart as she religiously cleaned the thing, even though she hadn’t used it in a couple of days. Oil had to get gunk in it somewhere, Ann supposed, even if it was inside a gun.

Bren continued. “We have a fine, if a little unorthodox, enchanter. Finding a smith we can trust for Kat and a leatherworker for you would be a very useful endeavour. Then there’s a weaponsmith who can handle firearms and melee weapons.”

“No touching Fillianore.” Lucia’s plumage was standing upright as she glared at Bren. Ann hadn’t seen the woman truly rankled since she’d gotten the feathers, and it made a striking sight.

“Fine, you will maintain your own weapon save for modifications such as the scope,” Bren said carefully. “Alas, we do need these people. What would you do if Fillianore broke?”

“Die.”

“Lucia…”

“Uuuugh, not die,” Lucia rolled her crimson eyes. They looked as brilliant as her feathers in the firelight. “Good as.”

Bren pinched the bridge of his nose. “Should the worst happen, we need trustworthy people to work with. Preferably we have them bound by Annita’s passive. I would also like to start the search for an alchemist once we reach Indelholm. Alruna has been an example of the utility one could provide to our party even with infrequent visits to their place of business.”

“Can’t we just grab Alruna?” Ann asked. “I’m kidding. We can’t. She’s got her place. Yeah, alchemist is totally on the list of people we need. Wonder if there’re any hot, witchy types we could get. Goth girls were always so hot.”

“Goth?” Kat asked.

Ann held up a finger. She’d raised her voice when she’d mentioned someone witchy to try to bring Rosalyn into the conversation. Looking around, she still didn’t see the Druid. “You seen Rosalyn?”

“Wandered that way,” Minnie pointed over the ridge.

“She say what she was doing?” Ann asked.

Minnie shrugged. “No? Was talking to herself, though. You guys said you all have spirits or something? Maybe she’s talking to that.”

Ann felt a pit growing in her stomach. She tried to shake the worry, but it wouldn’t go away. Kat looked at her, and they instantly knew they were equally worried.

“Let’s go check on ‘er,” Kat said. She was trying to stay calm, but Ann heard the edge of fear in her voice. Bren probably did, too.

Ann and Kat put their things down and made their way up over the ridge. It was incredibly dark, and after the firelight, it took Ann’s eyes a minute to adjust to her night vision. “There.”

Rosalyn was sitting off on a rock, a dark shape against moonlit stone. She was doing something with her hands, but was turned away from them. As they watched, her head cocked to the side, then righted itself, like it did when she was puzzling something out.

Ann held a finger to her lips, and the pair quietly approached the woman sitting alone. Their hearing had been interfered with by the fire and the ridge, but now they could hear their girlfriend clearly.

“Hmm, no. I don’t think it’d work…” a grunt, “there. Nah, definitely not. You sure you know what this is?”

“Rosalyn?” Ann asked quietly as she neared the woman’s back. She didn’t want to startle the already skittish woman. “Hey, you ok?”

Rosalyn’s head turned, saw them, then swivelled to face them.

Ann’s heart fell.

Rosalyn sat there, her robes a bloody mess. Wet things glistened in the moonlight. They looked like worms. Rosalyn was holding the horn of… something to her stomach, right where that mess was… oh god.

“Oh hey guys! I was thinking about trying out more of the predator-prey stuff we like tonight. Sound good to you? It always turns me on so much!”

Another inch of her intestines pushed out on her next breath.