A Half-elf Priestess' Fun

It was a cuthroat world. And if Garalas happened to cut some throats as part of her daily routine, who was going to protest? The person with the cut throat, gurgling out their last breath as she watched on with cold eyes? Didn’t seem likely, did it?

She flicked the blood off her blade: a scimitar that had enough murders under its belt to merit a bounty for its owner. Speaking of, it turned out that if you didn’t kill all of a caravan, then one or two might get it in their heads that they should report the annihilation of their comrades to the local authorities. That pesky fact was why she was currently on the way out from this fine corner of the civilized world. If they didn’t want a half-elf of her caliber cavorting around, fine, she could take a hint.

Garalas looked down at the couple lounging in the grass. Lazy bunch, eh? Got nothing better to do than just sit there with their guts skewered? She crouched down and observed her handiwork. The way their guts were revealed to the world, to her; it was her own little shrine to the dark goddess. She offered a prayer and got on her way. Couldn’t dawdle forever, else-wise she might encounter her own Garalas with their own scimitar. She laughed at the thought of two of her facing each other down, ready to kill with nary a second thought.

She sheathed her sword and resumed her way through the forest. The trail she was on was well-worn but not overly so. It suggested common usage but less than a main thoroughfare. Perfect, in other words, for one such as she who enjoyed a little company now and then but wasn’t overfly fond of crowds.

The half-elf was in such a fey mood that she even began to whistle. A seafarer’s tune that she had picked up during her stay at a port city once upon a time, one that had never quite left her mind. The sailors called such ‘music-worms’, and Garalas had found the term equally as persistent. She liked the thought of the notes wriggling around in her brain. Like she was already buried in the ground and providing her due sustenance that she owed the earth, but with the added benefit of getting to hear the same stupid song on repeat for all of her after-life.

So she whistled and sang and danced her way through the forest, and all was as peaceful as she made it to be.

“Why, what do we have here?”

A goblin and a human walking in front of her. The two turned at her question with surprise that evidenced their lack of perception.

She hung from a branch by her legs, letting the blood rush to her brain. Rushing blood, now there was a thought. Garalas could see the two now, strung up just as she was now, showering the ground with their vital fluid.

The half-elf also saw the strangeness of the human’s dress. Nothing too outlandish, but all of such quality and of not one culture’s preference, it astounded, did it not? An estranged noble’s daughter? A princess? Cavorting with a beastkin of all things? How distasteful. Were they in love? Oh, the thought surged to life painting an entire triptych of their sordid affair.

“Elf. Bad?”

The goblin spoke some common to her, which only further served to support Garalas’ fever dreams.

“Why, nothing of the sort.” Garalas flipped over and landed on her feet. She bowed deeply, to a goblin. Hah! And don’t think she didn’t notice the way the human’s eyes tracked the fullness of her bosom as she did so. Did the human have no shame that she would fuck anything that breathed? “Indeed. I aim to be your closest confidant before the night is out.”

“Big words. Bad.”

Garalas couldn’t help the sneer that painted itself across her face, just for a split second, before her serene smile re-took its rightful place.

“I’ll lower myself to your level then. Me good.” She pointed at herself in case the goblin was still having troubles.

“Uh, hello.” The human piped in, clearly nervous. “My name’s Mina, and this is Rockbiter. We’re traveling to the nearest human settlement. You wouldn’t happen to have a map we could trade for, would you?”

Her voice was so beautiful, so fresh. It sounded to Garalas like the dear hadn’t known a day of true hardship in her entire life. It sounded like it would break and shatter and keen like a banshee with but the slightest pressure.

“A map? Can’t say I do. But I have the next best thing. Me! I know this region like the back of my hand. There’s a town not more than half a day from here if you just keep in the direction you were going at a reasonable pace. Plenty of humans there, though I must warn you that they might not take kindly to your diminutive companion.”

The human seemed glad at first, but then the ramifications of her choices sunk in. “So racism, or I guess species-ism exists here too, huh. Thank you for the warning.”

What land did this human hail from where man did not judge against beast? And the way the human spoke, it grated against Garalas. Like she was some high arbiter handing out a sentence, condemning for some natural crime.

“I take your thanks and wear them proudly.” She stepped closer. The goblin growled at her, as was the beasts' want. She didn’t let that stop her and took another step. “But some fair recompense would not go unappreciated.”

“Oh! I don’t have any money. I just got here.” That almost stopped Garalas in her tracks. How could someone wearing those clothes not have any money, and say it with a straight face? Her clothes alone would see for more than a peasant would see in a lifetime. “Rockbiter. Do you have any money?”

The goblin just growled again.

“I don’t think she does, sorry. I also… uh… don’t think she likes you.”

Garalas shrugged and took another step closer.

“That is her choice. But what about you, dear? Do you like me? Are you a fair and honest soul?”

The human, Mina, looked conflicted. “Yes? Maybe I could pay you with something else? Can I do anything to help?”

“Yes.” Garalas answered, telling the truth for the first time. “You can.” She unsheathed her sword in one smooth motion and lunged forward, aiming right for the pretty thing’s neck.

The fact that the human didn’t immediately die was an eternal stain on her reputation. Instead, Garalas dodged since she had a stone thrown at her. The instinct to not be hit trumped her bloodlust if only momentarily. The goblin was wielding a little dagger of all things, like that was enough to harm a priestess of ****, blessed with protections magical against any nominal physical or arcane harm.

The goblin growled and rushed her. She deftly dodged and aimed her sword at the goblin’s tits. She’d lop them off and see how brave the goblin was then.

Out of the corner her eye she saw the human begin to mouth some words. A spellcaster? It was of no matter. Some spoiled noble scion couldn’t hurt her with whatever basic fireball she had. She ignored the human and lifted her scimitar, ready to finish the goblin in one strike.

So she wasn’t expecting the beam of pink light to hit her. It snaked around her side and struck her right in the forehead. She blinked and let her sword fall to her side. The goblin took the opportunity to attack her, but Garalas simply hit the beast on the head and knocked it out. She had more important things to do than humor a beast.

“Human. Mina, was it?”

“Yes?” The human was quavering.

“Where did you get a spell like that, you pretty little thing? Dark magic like that, it doesn’t suit one so fair, does it?”

“I… I… a goddess gave it to me.”

“Oh? How curious.” The half-elf licked her blade. What a shame that it would remain unblooded today. “Did she whisper it to you as you killed your parents? Or did you steal a starving family’s last coin? Did you hear her words as you sentenced an innocent man to **** for the crime you committed?”

The human looked confused.

“What are you talking about? I… I didn’t do anything like that. I just died.”

The human spoke the truth. Or she was such a capable liar that Garalas couldn’t discern past her facade. An undead? With a seeming that perfectly mimicked a living, breathing human? Outstanding. Amazing. Garalas huffed as her core quickened.

“Oh? How delightful. Forgive me my indiscretion, fellow priestess. I didn’t expect to meet a Lazalurothite on a night like this. What say you we travel together for a time, enjoying the company so often denied us?”

“Uh… yes. I mean, of course, fellow priestess.”

“Capital.” The half-elf took the human by her hand and started leading her on the path forward.

“Wait. We can’t just leave Rockbiter behind.”

“And why not? You’re not trying to tell me that she too is a priestess?”

“She’s uh vital to my plans.”

Garalas raised a singular white eyebrow at that.

“She is. I don’t know exactly how yet, but I’ve seen it… in a vision.”

“If you say so. Though I won’t be asked to converse with a beast like that, even if it is part of your… vision.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. Thank you.”

“Dear compatriot, offer thanks to the goddess, not me. We are but her servants on this pitiful world.”

Garalas watched as the human mouthed a silent prayer. She watched as the guise drew breath and released. Magic was a wonderful thing. It enabled the half-elf to serve her goddess against otherwise unfathomable odds. It allowed her to meet such an interesting specimen. She gave her own prayer and settled in with the undead human, waiting for the goblin to rouse. She was a solitary creature not by nature but by dint of occupation, so these rare occasions of companionship were to be treasured.

Aye, she knew that this partnership would only bear the greatest of fruits.