Hesitantly Heading Off

“Rrrnnnnnh...”

Krvavy’s hands pause their work, letting the leather straps and buckles that she still needs to tighten go forgotten, if just for a few moments. Her fingers brush over the darker stripes adorning her precious puppy’s beige-brown fur, lightly massaging the firm flesh and toned muscles hidden beneath.

A certain shaggy tail that had previously been still begins to wag, lightly whacking into the barbarian kneeling behind this seated Were-Beast.

“Hmph.” Thea’s soft-blue eyes rise from the heavy crossbow sitting in front of her, its magazine open and half full. A pile of bolts rest beside that brat, waiting for their angular heads to be polished and cleaned before they are ready to use. “What happened to your earlier haste?”

The very tip of Krvavy’s tongue is caught between her carnivorous teeth. Nearly all of this Orc’s armour has been strapped in place. Which means that her last excuse to stick around has nearly run its course. She stifles a sigh, giving those wide hips one last squeeze before getting back to work.

“Rrrghhhhn...” Khalia grumbles again, arms lifting up so that her articulated pauldrons can be properly secured to her silvery breastplate.

A shiver runs down the Drakling’s spine as a pair of little hands timidly touch the base of her meaty tail, fingertips trailing across the bumpy texture of her black scales. “Hhh...” A soft breath escapes past her clenched teeth.

Adeline freezes, her round face no doubt gaining a rather rosy hue. “Eeeie...!” She squeaks herself out of her shock, hastily dragging some overlapping plates right up against the barbarian’s back, before fastening them onto her Draconic lover’s loincloth belt. Those little hands of hers race down the underside of that slightly raised tail, grabbing at the nicely padded straps and, one by one, pulling them tight.

Krvavy grimaces, her emerald eyes dropping to her empty hands. Idly, she pulls the leafy bracelet off her wrist. “Hey, sweetie,” she glances back towards her little bunny-mouse. “Can you grab the armour for my left arm? The gauntlet, braces, pauldron, all that stuff? I should... probably wear that too.”

Wearing the armour for her right arm would also be smart. It doesn’t cover as much, leaving quite a bit of her skin and scales bare, which is just perfect for Naturists Blessing. But she stupidly didn’t bring it along. The head of her Soulbound weapon tends to linger on her right, making it easier to block or parry attacks from that side, so it just didn’t feel as necessary...

“H-h-eeeieeere...” Those thick and padded pieces of dark, nearly black, metal are piled up in that tiny blonde’s arms. They look absolutely huge compared to her short and bottom-heavy body...

Rather than immediately take any of that armour from the poor overburdened girl... Krvavy gently cups her newest fiancée’s chin and cheeks in her comparatively huge hands, fingertips reaching beneath those floppy bunny ears. She leans in, planting a soft and delicate kiss on that Halfling’s forehead. And then another on those little lips. “I love you, Adeline~.”

This adorable girl’s light olive skin is quickly coloured a deep red, her round cheeks and her face as a whole becoming brighter than a ripe tomato. Her cute little lips tremble and twitch, her bottom-heavy body wobbling and wavering as the weight in her arms is taken away. “Eeeeeeiiieeiieeeeeeie...” She staggers forwards, bracing herself against the Were-Beast’s back as she just barely remains on her little bunny paw feet.

Though there is a rather somber mood hanging in the air, Krvavy still can’t help but smile at that adorably flustered sight. Which makes the idea of leaving these girls of hers all the more painful. She takes a deep breath and slips the last few pieces of her armour into place, securing them together. The leafy bracelet returns to her wrist, stretched around that dark and protective metal.

“Rrhnnnhh...” Khalia continues to make some rumbled grumbling noises, even as she turns and so very gently scoops that tiny blonde into her bestial arms. “Little bunbun~...” She softly murmurs and coos, taking advantage of the fact that she isn’t wearing her bevor to lean in and nuzzle her face into the top of Adeline’s head... which only serves to leave the poor girl in an even more flustered state.

The sharp and metallic claws of Krvavy’s heavily armoured gauntlet clink against the silvery plates of Khalia’s pauldron as she squeezes her horned head into that embrace. The cool metal of her helmet mask presses into the Were-Beast’s fluffy ear as she lovingly plants a kiss on a freckled, green-skinned cheek. “I love you, Khalia~.”

An amber-gold eye glances sideways at the barbarian. The black-brown brow above it is furrowed quite a bit. “Mate. Kill enemies. Kill knights. Kill Duke.”

“I will.” The Drakling softly replies, her upper right horn resting against the side of her precious puppy’s head. “Anyone who gets in my way will die. And I... will do my best to not die as well.”

Satisfied by that response, Khalia fully turns towards her Mate. A mix of emotions flit across her face as she leans in, confidently claiming Krvavy’s pale lips as her own with a quick, nibbling peck of a kiss. Her four little tusks glisten in the firelight as she reluctantly pulls back. “Rrghhn...”

“Eeeihhp...” A soft squeak is squeezed out of Adeline as the strong and bestial arms wrapped around her bottom-heavy body tighten their grip just a bit.

With a soft sigh, Krvavy rises to her feet. Her thick tail slowly swishes side to side, moving just fine despite the armour secured atop its length and the many items hanging from her loincloth belt. She idly pokes and pats those supplies, making sure that she has everything she’ll need.

Furthest back on her right is the pouch with nothing but the keyglyphs for the runes painted onto her body. Beside that are a few rolls of those magically mending bandages, neatly tied together with twine. Then there is a single large gourd filled with her sweet berry’s rejuvenating nectar.

On her left hangs a larger pouch, stuffed with some snacks for the road, and a few gleaming chunks of quartz. Those crystals don’t contain too much mana, especially not compared to Krvavy’s increasingly deep mana reserves, but they’re better than nothing. If a bit slow to drain...

Krvavy’s gaze drops towards the few pieces of armour she brought along but decided to not wear. It wouldn’t hurt to put those big plate tassets on, but... she doesn’t really have space for them, not with everything already on her belt. The gorget, on the other hand, isn’t quite as useful. While protecting her neck is a very important thing... she doesn’t really need some little pieces of metal for that. Her lower horns do the job well enough. So she’ll leave it off and take the extra percent or so of True Defence instead.

“Hmph. Here.”

A small and flimsy package, wrapped up just like their pasties were, is pushed into the barbarian’s hand. She blinks, looking between it and the silver-blonde brat now standing by her side.

“Give this letter to my...” Thea hesitates, her soft-blue eyes turning towards the campfire. “To my mother. Or my father. Or one of my brothers. Whoever you see first...” Her dainty fingers refuse to let go of her Draconic lover’s hand, squeezing it and holding on tight. As if trying to memorize the warmth beneath those black scales. Her gaze snaps back to the barbarian. “And be careful with it...!”

As delicately as she can, the armoured claws of Krvavy’s gauntlet pluck that packaged piece of paper out of her palm and, with some awkwardness, she slips it into the same pouch that the keyglyphs are in. “You’ll see them soon enough.” She calmly reassures her fiancée, hunching over and leaning in towards that noble girl.

“Yes, but...” A blush as beautiful as this brat colours Thea’s cheeks as the hand she is still holding onto lifts her chin. “They need to know that you are not simply some feral beast...!” Her voice wavers just a little. She takes a deep breath and stifles a sigh, a bit of bitterness entering her tone. “Plus, I am sure that lying whore of a Countess has something planned...”

Anything further that Thea may have to say is silenced as the Drakling’s lips meet her own. The noble girl melts into her lover’s embrace, shoulders going slack as her head rests heavily in Krvavy’s hand. She trembles as that quick kiss comes to an end. It takes a few slow blinks for her beautiful blue eyes to refocus on the barbarian before her.

“I love you, Thea~...” Krvavy’s thumb brushes over her brat’s flushed cheek, her whispered words predictable yet still honest and true.

“I know.” A tinge of haughty arrogance underlines that simple response. “I love you too~...” The bashful brat can hardly meet the barbarian’s gaze, giving that scaled hand another squeeze. “And...” She trails off, brow furrowing ever so faintly. “Your mark is not as... visible... as the one Khalia bears.”

The Drakling tilts her head, glancing down at her covered crotch. She can see some of her own mark through the large metal ring of her loincloth. But not all of it. Mostly just the upper horns. Which is a bit unfortunat– Wait.

Just the faintest bit of surprise fills Thea’s face as that mark suddenly shifts, moving upwards and shrinking a little as it finds itself roughly centered within that ring. The padded leather of the loincloth proper cover the lower horns a little, but the heart is visible. As are the little blue-green flowers that serve as Beryl’s addition.

Authors Note: Here is what Krvavy is wearing, with her lewd mark in its new (and temporary) spot. Do note that, once again, this image is missing her Far-Speaking ring (on her lower right horn, our left), the runes painted onto her, the leafy bracelet on her armoured wrist, and the supplies dangling from / attached to her belt.

“There. Is this better?”

Soft fingertips touch that patch of pale skin, trailing across textureless lines. “Yes...” Thea softly states, her rather pensive gaze lifting up to peer into her Draconic lover’s emerald eyes. “How tough are you in this armour?”

The barbarian’s perception is poked and prodded as more than just that brat uses Inspect on her. With hardly a thought, she lowers her guard and lets those prying eyes through.

“Hhhmph.” Far too much relief fills that huff for it to sound even slightly bratty. The noble girl’s shoulders subtly slump, still a little tense but not to the same degree as before. “Do not let yourself grow overconfident.” She cautions, her tone uncharacteristically steady and determined. “I want my ex-fiancé to die tonight. Not you.”

The anxiety lingering in Krvavy’s heart... well, it doesn’t quite fade, but it is soothed a bit by the reassuringly big numbers before her. It looks like she gained around twenty or so extra True Defence from how much skin she is showing off. Which isn’t even the optimal amount. And everything else...

This armour that the Countess gifted her is... it is much better than her old pelt loincloths.

Woolly Rhinoceros Leather Loincloth & Tenebrine Steel Breastplate: These excellent and well enchanted pieces of armour are as durable and resilient as the Drakling they were made for. Provides +20 Base Armour, +10% Base Magic Resistance, +5% Ice Resistance, & +5% to all Physical Resistances.

“Hehehh... Mate tough~...” A tinge of joy fills Khalia’s giggly voice as she presses a paw-like hand into the barbarian’s bare thigh, furred fingers gripping onto that muscled leg. “Good~...!”

The barbarian takes a deep breath. In and then out again.

These resistances, these impressively large resistances, are all thanks to her various passives and traits. So how much more resilient will this Drakling be with some active effects, like Oakflesh or either of the two sets of runes Inanna painted onto her, buffing her even further...?

Another pair of hands, smaller than all of the others in this cramped campsite, reach out and grab at Krvavy’s wrist. “B-be careful...!” Adeline shakily begs, her big hazel eyes gazing up at the Drakling that is her fiancée, filled with love and concern.

“I will... try.” Getting those words past her lips is a struggle. Because Krvavy knows full well what comes next. She has dragged this out long enough and no longer has an excuse to stick around. But maybe she can give each of her girls another kiss goodbye first...? Thea deserves another, at least... They all deserve another... And a few more seconds, or even minutes, won’t hurt at this point... Not compared to the hours she has already fallen behind...

“Go on.” The silver-blonde brat softly breathes out, giving her head an ever so slightly shake. It is almost as if she had just read the barbarian’s mind... “Get out there, and get our ****.”

An uneasy chill hangs in the air.

The sky above is dark, the moons hidden behind a thick layer of clouds that have been bathed a dim and bloody red by the sun as it dips beneath the horizon.

Countless motes of light linger in the distance ahead, campfires and lanterns dotting the Duke’s army.

Krvavy passes by a tree with hardly a leaf left on it. Her gaze slowly and cautiously sweeps side to side as she advances at a brisk pace, looking out for anyone who may spot her. But absolutely no one is around. Not out here, still quite far from the siege.

Idle thoughts flit through her head. Anxious thoughts, of what is to come and of what she left behind. Of her girls, back in that cramped canyon. They will be fine. Khalia is strong and won’t let any harm come to the others. Thea has her crossbow and her lewd magics, for what they’re worth. And Adeline... how could anyone bring themselves to hurt such an adorable girl?

Without really realizing it, the Drakling picks up her pace.

The supplies hanging from her belt rattle and bounce as she steps over a short cobblestone wall. A small farmhouse stands off to the side, dark and silent. Further past that is a barn, its doors wide open. There are no animals in sight.

Krvavy’s inhuman feet trod over tracks left by unknown strangers as she swiftly passes through this recently abandoned place.

A sparse spattering of soft and fluffy flakes fall down from the dark sky, adding to the few already lingering on the ground. Specks of white dust the Drakling’s nearly black armour, landing on her crimson hair and brushing across her bare skin. The air around her is thick and heavy. Chilly, but not cold. The breeze isn’t biting.

The Drakling stops mid step, brow furrowing. She lifts her right hand, palm pointed up, and catches a single falling flake. It doesn’t melt. It smears across her scales. This isn’t snow. Her emerald eyes turn towards her destination. A sparse orchard stands in her way, but beyond that...

An ominous orange light arcs through the air, burning like a hot coal as sparks and smoke mark its trail. Another follows, from a different spot and from further away. The north wind carries the consequence of those attacks south from Svaneti, dusting the land in ash and soot.

The barbarian hurries on, inwardly cursing herself for how long she has delayed herself. This should already have been dealt with. Hopefully she isn’t too late...

A familiar weight hangs on her lower right horn. She grits her teeth, pale lips pressing into a thin line.

Elsewhere, who knows just how far away, a black onyx-like gem embedded into a silver band begins to pulse. ⟨Krvavy?⟩ The Countess’ voice almost immediately comes through the connection between their Far-Speaking rings.

The barbarian’s heart tightens. ⟨I’ve nearly reached Svaneti.⟩ She curtly states.

⟨Already?⟩ A tinge of surprise underlines that single word... though it is quickly replaced with concern. ⟨Do not push yourself too hard. You will need all the strength and energy you can get for what is to come.⟩

Krvavy’s expression hardens. Her jaw nearly feels sore with how hard she is clenching it. ⟨You said that you would have more intel for me⟩

Silence fills the connection for a good few seconds.

⟨I do.⟩ It almost feels as if the Countess just nodded in that brief pause between her words. Either that... or she shook her head. ⟨My scouts have been gathering valuable information. Though I suspect the size and composition of Dovoryn’s army is of little import to you. Just know that he has mustered thousands of men. Around ten thousand, by our estimates. Only a few hundred of which could be considered to be ‘elites’. Most are well-trained but otherwise ordinary soldiers.⟩

Emerald eyes pierce through the darkness of this night, peering towards the encampment ahead. Each step that Krvavy takes brings her closer to those countless tents and wagons. But even here, still a fair distance away, the Duke’s army already covers the horizon.

Against all odds... the Drakling’s scowl deepens even further. She does not doubt the accuracy of the estimate that Rina’s scouts have made.

⟨Dovoryn’s army has completely encircled Svaneti, but is primarily amassed in the west and the north. You will have an easier time approaching, as you are, from the east. More so from the south.⟩ A few long seconds pass on by before the Countess continues, her tone slightly distracted. As if she were looking through a stack of reports and summarizing the pertinent details within. ⟨There are some patrols moving around beyond the outskirts, but they should not be too difficult for you to notice and avoid. Dovoryn’s men have focused the majority of their attention towards the town itself.⟩

The flakes of ash falling from the blackened sky grow thicker and heavier. And more plentiful.

A light tinking sound interrupts the near silence, the metal claws of Krvavy’s gauntlet tapping into her armoured palm. All of this intel so far is pretty much useless. They don’t have the time to sit around properly planning how to sneak into this sieged city. And Krvavy is already approaching from the less guarded side. ⟨Do you know where the Duke would be?⟩ She impatiently asks.

⟨Precisely so? No.⟩ Rina responds, a soft sigh audible in her voice. ⟨My scouts are keeping their distance, to avoid being noticed and, most importantly of all, to avoid antagonizing an army that could very well turn its gaze our way next. But... I do have a Shadow within Svaneti.⟩

The corner of Krvavy’s eye twitches. ⟨And you didn’t start with that?⟩

⟨The distance between us is too great for me to know all that is going on in there.⟩ Rina patiently returns, unbothered by the barbarian’s mildly biting tone. ⟨If I wish to communicate with my Shadow, then I need to do so via means not unlike how we are talking now. Albeit more inefficient. And less secure. If you would like...?⟩

⟨Yes, please do.⟩ The Drakling sarcastically drawls.

Silence fills the connection, letting the noises out here in the real world reach her ears. Sounds of commotion. Distant shouts. Rumbling thumps. Nothing quite clear enough to pick out.

Seconds drag on into minutes. Krvavy finds herself slowing down, hunched over and moving more cautiously. There isn’t much to use as cover out here. Not unless she wants to crawl on the ground, hoping the fences and fallow fields will hide her well enough. But that isn’t too much of an issue.

It is very dark out. The Drakling’s eyes can see... well enough. She can make out shapes and different shades of grey. The fine details are a bit more difficult to see. She needs to squint and strain her eyes to pick them out. But to a normal person, to a Human, it’d be damn near pitch black out here.

⟨Krvavy, are you still there?⟩

Hearing those softly spoken words suddenly echo through her mind nearly cause Krvavy to jump in surprise, her tense muscles twitching just a bit. Relief over no longer feeling so utterly alone mingles with annoyance directed towards said relief. ⟨Of course.⟩ The barbarian grunts back.

⟨It is quite fortunate that you arrived as quickly as you did.⟩ The Countess’ tone is somber and serious. She has bad news, no doubt. Which isn’t a surprise. ⟨My estimate of how long Svaneti could hold appears to have been... far too optimistic. This is a show of **** on Dovoryn’s part. More so than I expected. I am sure you can see what I mean.⟩

Krvavy doesn’t even need to lift her gaze to know what Rina is talking about. But she does so anyway.

Further ahead, past the encampments that are growing increasingly easy to make out, rise countless pillars of thick black smoke. The sky is choked by soot and cinders, a grim glow of orange and red cast across those ashen clouds from below and within.

Trails of sparking coals continue to infrequently arc through the hazy air, those searing payloads hurled towards a hell of their own making by unseen siege weapons.

Where once was a city now stands a grand inferno.

Svaneti is burning.

Krvavy takes a deep breath. The scent of fire and flame fills her lungs. ⟨Yeah.⟩

⟨For everything to have moved along so quickly... I would expect Dovoryn to have already taken to the field. Or to at least do so soon. If he were to wait much longer, then there will be nothing left to capitulate to him.⟩

Flakes of ash continue to fall from above, suffocating the green ground beneath a thin blanket of grey and white and black. Arid air rolls in from the north, like the heat escaping from an oven as it is cracked open before its job is done.

⟨I just need to find the Baron then, don’t I?⟩ The barbarian’s brow furrows. She sees lights moving off to the side. A patrol?

⟨Almost certainly, yes.⟩ The Countess quickly confirms. ⟨And I would not expect that to be too difficult a task. Baron Nicodim should be holed up within his keep, which can be found near the center of Svaneti, standing atop a hill. If need be... my Shadow can guide you there.⟩

Krvavy grimaces, crouching down among some reeds at the edge of a dry ditch. Those tall grasses rustle in the stifling breeze as her emerald eyes follow the light of a few swaying lanterns. Five soldiers, all in gambesons with links of metal along the outsides of their arms, march on by. A few have helmets, a few do not. One has a shield on his back and a mace in hand. One has what looks to be an axe dangling from his belt. The rest have swords.

They don’t look particularly tough. Nor experienced.

It is so very tempting for Krvavy to summon her Soulbound weapon, to rush in and attack them before they even know what is happening. She could easily kill two right off the bat. Maybe three. But the others would survive a few more seconds, at the very least. And in that time they could make some noise, drawing attention and raising the alarm.

She might be capable of fighting her way through this encircling encampment, but... It is better to not take that risk.

⟨Do you know how many men the Duke will have around him?⟩ The Drakling idly asks, staring daggers into the backs of those soldiers’ helmeted heads as they move further and further away. Krvavy creeps free from her cover, the reeds rustling as they bid her farewell.

⟨That is difficult to say.⟩ Rina admits, her tone thoughtful. ⟨I would expect his entourage to be fairly large to start, composed of a hundred men at the absolute minimum. Though that number would likely decrease as they advance deeper into Svaneti. Some would be lost as casualties, no doubt, but most would be sent off on purpose, to secure strategically important positions or to crush pockets of resistance. So by the time he reaches the Baron... Expect at least a dozen men to be at Dovoryn’s side. Perhaps even twice that. Svaneti is not a well fortified town.⟩

Krvavy takes a deep breath. Her lungs, her throat, her eyes... The thin haze hanging in the air stings ever so slightly. That faint discomfort only serves to straighten her thoughts, strengthening her resolve as she skulks through the shadows of this dark and dreadful night.

She is getting ever closer to the tents up ahead. To the light of those lanterns and campfires.

⟨For the most part,⟩ the Countess continues, providing what intel she can. ⟨I would expect this entourage to be composed primarily of knights of the Order of the Winters Watch. They heavily utilize ice magics, if the name was not clear enough. And I believe you would have faced some of them before, when dealing with Patriarch Grigori.⟩

There don’t seem to be any guards standing watch out here. Not beyond any potential patrols passing behind the barbarian, at least. Nor are there any walls or palisades blocking Krvavy’s path forward. She can enter freely... as long as she isn’t spotted.

Scaled fingers brush against the smooth side of an empty wooden wagon. Light flickers from beneath its carriage, leaking through the spokes of its wheels. ⟨I take it the Duke’ll have some ice magic too?⟩

⟨He certainly knows some, yes. Dovoryn spent his younger years alongside the Order that now serves him. Which is partially why they treat him with more reverence than their own Patron God...⟩ If she were here, then Rina would have surely just shaken her head. ⟨But he is capable of more than just tha– tsk.⟩ A tinge of annoyance fills Rina’s projected voice. ⟨Apologies. Something just came up. My Shadow will meet you in Svaneti.⟩

And with that... the connection falls silent. Not that Krvavy cares too much. She needs to focus on her surroundings. Not the Countess’ words.