A Breton Amongst Dremora
Though she was careful to not let the churls see it, Dianne fumed to herself the entire time.How dare Ranyu treat her like a child! Never mind the fact that Dremora didn' have children to treat like, well, children. That didn't matter. Dianne was in a surly mood. All that saved her from slamming people's food down in front of them was knowing that it wasn't anyone's fault but Ranyu's. Jerk.
Once back in the kitchen, Xaurax told her, "Me and Mal got our own plates. We'll be in the dining room, but don't worry 'bout us. We got it." Dianne flashed him a grateful smile. She was busy enough.
She'd come to enjoy hard work. Gods knew it had put osme muscle on her and taken off some pounds. She was still round and curvy, and she suspected that her bosom was going to be eternally full, but she didn't mind. She was who she was, and certainly the admirers she had didn't seem to mind that she wasn't tall and muscular like the few Dremora women she'd seen. At first, she'd envied their fierce beauty and powerful bodies. Over time, however, she'd come to realize that their beauty did not negate her own appeal. Lava blooms and daisies were very different, after all, but who would think a daisy wasn't pretty? As for work, it gave her a sense of purpose that she'd long since lost since she'd become ill and unable to work back on Earth.
'I'm changing,' she thought, serving another table their food and ale. 'Amd I healing, too?' she thought that perhaps she was, but she wasn't so naive as to think that she didn't still have a long road ahead of her. Not for the first time, she wondered just how much of her feelings and outlook were genuine and heartfelt, or if since coming here she'd had far too little time and next to zero triggers to fall back into old patterns. She strongly suspected that it was the second one, and tried to not feel disheartened. One of the churls smiled and nodded his thanks to her as she served his food. Picking up his blood ale, he said, "For a mortal, you're not so bad. Keep your chin up. You'll do well." His kind words surprised Dianne. She smiled back, thanked him, and carried oin with her work. He was cute, and she was pissed at Ranyu enough to flirt with him for the hell of it, but that wouldn't have been kind to this churl whom she didn't know, and she knew it. She circled back through the dining room, pointedly ignoring Ranyu when he tried to catch her attention. One of the scamp's raised a brow in surprise, then hurried over to see what he wanted. Maybe she hadn't noticed, he thought, then cast a worried glance Dianne's way.
Now that everyone had been served, Dianne returned to the kitchen to give everything a quick once-over and ensure that nothing was burning. Everything was in order. Not knowing else to do, she picked up a broom to sweep the dining room a bit in the unoccupied areas. Once again, she saw Ranyu, but this time, he was giving her a look that was equal measures hard and hurt. She turned away. 'Good. Maybe next time you won't be such an arse to me.' Once the sweeping was done, she went back to the kitchen to see if the little scamp needed a hand.
"Do you need--" Dianne began, but was quickly cut off as the battle horns blew their warning to one and all. Three blasts, a pause, then three more blasts. "Oh gods, not again," Dianne groaned. She remembered the sound all too well from just a few weeks ago, when Mephala's forces had attacked. A trickle of cold sweat ran down her back as she rememberd battling that perthan, how they'd been nothing like the spider daedra in the games. She had no weapons on her, either. The little scamp was still here, and she had a dagger. Dianne looked around, then quickly grabbed up Xaurax's favorite kitchen knife.
"Let's go," she told her, and they rushed back into the dining room. They arrived just in time to see Xaurax and Mal jumping off their bar stools and charging out the door, weapons in hand. Neither of them even seemed to remember that Dianne existed, much less that she could be in danger. She fel a fierce, almost childish glee at the fact that she fully intended to use his favorite knife to carve up any invading perthans who dared so much as set a leg in her direction. If one tried getting grabby with her again, she'd cut his damn balls off. Then Xaurax would have a ball-flavored kitchen knife. "Fuck him if he doesn't like it," she muttered. "That'll teach his arse to run off without me."
"No times!" Xeevik squeaked. "Youse can be mads later. Come ons, we'se hides in da larder." Dianne let the scamp lead her there." Dianne had just a moment to take in the sight and smell of dozens of different food items then Xeevik was slamming the big door shut and sliding the bolts home. It was dark in there, very dark, but it was safe.
"Can youse make a light?" Xeevik whispered. "it's too darks in here." Dianne shook her head. "No. I'm afraid they'll see the light under the door." She thought a moment, then asked, "Are you scared of the dark?"
"No. Just the thingies that can hides in it." Dianne felt her shudder. Her heart went out to the little kitchen scamp, and she put a gentle arm around her. "Don't worry, Xeevik. I have a big sharp knife, and so do you. We'll stab all the things that try and get us.. Poke poke!"
That made Xeevik giggle a little, and her trembling stopped. Dianne sucked in a sharp breath as the sounds of battle began making their way to them. Maybe it was just because she felt so uncertain of how well-hidden they were, but her heart felt way too big for her chest in an almost painful way. 'Fuck. All I have is this damn knife, not the big laundry paddle like last time. I just hope it's enough.' Never mind the fact that she'd had so much more training since the first attack. It may as well have been a sewing needle in her hand instead of a kitchen knife the size of a short sword in her hand.
The sounds of battle spilled into the tavern at large. Dianne heard not only the shouts of the fighters on both sides but the crunch and crash of furniture, crockery, and bottles breaking. Screams and shouted orders rang out on both sides. Silence. Dianne felt an urge which was completely at odds with her guranteed survival to open the door and peek out, but thankfully resisted it. She got the answer to her unasked question a moment later when the siilant voice of a perthan reached her ears.
"Fan out and search. Dremora do not hide, but they may have sequestered an ambush party here." "Yes, Magus," another replied, then the sound of multiple leg tips on flagstones as they began searching.
Dianne held her breath. Next to her, she felt Xeevik shaking again, and she understood that her morale was next to zero. Dianne couldn't blame her. Xeevik was afraid of the dark, and not much of a warrior. She wouldn't hold it against her if she broke and ran. Dianne could only hope that the perthans wouldn't think to check in the larder.
"Here," one of them called, and ried the lock, which of course did not open. "Locked, of course."
"Of course," the magus answered. "Do stand aside, would you? Thank you." A moment later, the unmistakble sounds of spellcasting began. Dianne jumped to her feet and took up what she hoped would be a decent ambush position of her own. Or at the very least, they wouldn't see her. She held her knife ready, and already she knew that when that door opened, the scamp would make a run for it.
Sure enough, when it opened a few seconds later, Xeevik hurried out the door in a blind panic, her knife completely forgotten in the moment and the blind haze of 'Run in a general direction of the fuck away from here." Good for her. It wasn't so good for Dianne, who hadn't managed to hide. There simply hadn't been time. Instead, she turned and boldly faced all six of them, saying,
"Hey, I recognize her! She's the one who clobbered Lachesis the last time we invaded. Be careful with her, Magus Veri."
The magus looked her over. Unlike the rest of his crew, whom were openly looking her over and wanting a piece of her that had nothing to do with battle, his face was calm and speculative. Except the eyes. They were dark violet yet blazed as blatantly as their grins did.
Dianne wasn't having it. "Don't mind me, Just getting a snack. I'll be going now." She tried to dart past them, but of course was quickly detained. She struggled and fought and even managed to get the knife up and out, but the magus shut that shit down fast. A telekinesis spell was all it took to disarm the still struggling Dianne. The magus smirked at her struggles, then held out his hand. "Give her here. I have right of first claim, as you all well know." There were, of course, good natured complaints and grumbling as the two who held her turned her over to their commander.
"You are lovely. You shouldn't struggle like that," the magus purred. "I'll only want you more." He used Xaurax's knife to cut her work tunic open, laying her flesh bare for all to see. The leers and gross comments about what, exactly, they wanted their leader to do with her, what they wanted to do with her, only barely touched Dianne's mind. She went into a haze of sheer panic, redoubling her struggles. The perthans hooted and yelled and laughed. The magus only smiled.
"Feisty. I like that. Won't do you any good. But now is not the time. We'll just have to wait until we gt you back home, then--"
"No!' Dianne screamed, full volume. Her foot lashed out and caught him right in the very sensitive joining of humanoid and spider bodies. Right where she'd learned in strategy and tactis class was where perthans kept their junk until it came out due to arousal. And the magus was very aroused, indeed.
He howled in agony and dropped her, collapsing to the floor at the same time. "Biiiiiitch!" he shrieked, his voice several octaves higher than his previous husky purr. Dianne didn't bother with sticking around to get captured again. She ran for it. Her feet slipped and slid in the mess of food, blood, spilled ale, and ichor on the floor, but she made it.
Behind her, the magus hissed, "First one to capture her, claims her!"
Dianne ran faster.
Once back in the kitchen, Xaurax told her, "Me and Mal got our own plates. We'll be in the dining room, but don't worry 'bout us. We got it." Dianne flashed him a grateful smile. She was busy enough.
She'd come to enjoy hard work. Gods knew it had put osme muscle on her and taken off some pounds. She was still round and curvy, and she suspected that her bosom was going to be eternally full, but she didn't mind. She was who she was, and certainly the admirers she had didn't seem to mind that she wasn't tall and muscular like the few Dremora women she'd seen. At first, she'd envied their fierce beauty and powerful bodies. Over time, however, she'd come to realize that their beauty did not negate her own appeal. Lava blooms and daisies were very different, after all, but who would think a daisy wasn't pretty? As for work, it gave her a sense of purpose that she'd long since lost since she'd become ill and unable to work back on Earth.
'I'm changing,' she thought, serving another table their food and ale. 'Amd I healing, too?' she thought that perhaps she was, but she wasn't so naive as to think that she didn't still have a long road ahead of her. Not for the first time, she wondered just how much of her feelings and outlook were genuine and heartfelt, or if since coming here she'd had far too little time and next to zero triggers to fall back into old patterns. She strongly suspected that it was the second one, and tried to not feel disheartened. One of the churls smiled and nodded his thanks to her as she served his food. Picking up his blood ale, he said, "For a mortal, you're not so bad. Keep your chin up. You'll do well." His kind words surprised Dianne. She smiled back, thanked him, and carried oin with her work. He was cute, and she was pissed at Ranyu enough to flirt with him for the hell of it, but that wouldn't have been kind to this churl whom she didn't know, and she knew it. She circled back through the dining room, pointedly ignoring Ranyu when he tried to catch her attention. One of the scamp's raised a brow in surprise, then hurried over to see what he wanted. Maybe she hadn't noticed, he thought, then cast a worried glance Dianne's way.
Now that everyone had been served, Dianne returned to the kitchen to give everything a quick once-over and ensure that nothing was burning. Everything was in order. Not knowing else to do, she picked up a broom to sweep the dining room a bit in the unoccupied areas. Once again, she saw Ranyu, but this time, he was giving her a look that was equal measures hard and hurt. She turned away. 'Good. Maybe next time you won't be such an arse to me.' Once the sweeping was done, she went back to the kitchen to see if the little scamp needed a hand.
"Do you need--" Dianne began, but was quickly cut off as the battle horns blew their warning to one and all. Three blasts, a pause, then three more blasts. "Oh gods, not again," Dianne groaned. She remembered the sound all too well from just a few weeks ago, when Mephala's forces had attacked. A trickle of cold sweat ran down her back as she rememberd battling that perthan, how they'd been nothing like the spider daedra in the games. She had no weapons on her, either. The little scamp was still here, and she had a dagger. Dianne looked around, then quickly grabbed up Xaurax's favorite kitchen knife.
"Let's go," she told her, and they rushed back into the dining room. They arrived just in time to see Xaurax and Mal jumping off their bar stools and charging out the door, weapons in hand. Neither of them even seemed to remember that Dianne existed, much less that she could be in danger. She fel a fierce, almost childish glee at the fact that she fully intended to use his favorite knife to carve up any invading perthans who dared so much as set a leg in her direction. If one tried getting grabby with her again, she'd cut his damn balls off. Then Xaurax would have a ball-flavored kitchen knife. "Fuck him if he doesn't like it," she muttered. "That'll teach his arse to run off without me."
"No times!" Xeevik squeaked. "Youse can be mads later. Come ons, we'se hides in da larder." Dianne let the scamp lead her there." Dianne had just a moment to take in the sight and smell of dozens of different food items then Xeevik was slamming the big door shut and sliding the bolts home. It was dark in there, very dark, but it was safe.
"Can youse make a light?" Xeevik whispered. "it's too darks in here." Dianne shook her head. "No. I'm afraid they'll see the light under the door." She thought a moment, then asked, "Are you scared of the dark?"
"No. Just the thingies that can hides in it." Dianne felt her shudder. Her heart went out to the little kitchen scamp, and she put a gentle arm around her. "Don't worry, Xeevik. I have a big sharp knife, and so do you. We'll stab all the things that try and get us.. Poke poke!"
That made Xeevik giggle a little, and her trembling stopped. Dianne sucked in a sharp breath as the sounds of battle began making their way to them. Maybe it was just because she felt so uncertain of how well-hidden they were, but her heart felt way too big for her chest in an almost painful way. 'Fuck. All I have is this damn knife, not the big laundry paddle like last time. I just hope it's enough.' Never mind the fact that she'd had so much more training since the first attack. It may as well have been a sewing needle in her hand instead of a kitchen knife the size of a short sword in her hand.
The sounds of battle spilled into the tavern at large. Dianne heard not only the shouts of the fighters on both sides but the crunch and crash of furniture, crockery, and bottles breaking. Screams and shouted orders rang out on both sides. Silence. Dianne felt an urge which was completely at odds with her guranteed survival to open the door and peek out, but thankfully resisted it. She got the answer to her unasked question a moment later when the siilant voice of a perthan reached her ears.
"Fan out and search. Dremora do not hide, but they may have sequestered an ambush party here." "Yes, Magus," another replied, then the sound of multiple leg tips on flagstones as they began searching.
Dianne held her breath. Next to her, she felt Xeevik shaking again, and she understood that her morale was next to zero. Dianne couldn't blame her. Xeevik was afraid of the dark, and not much of a warrior. She wouldn't hold it against her if she broke and ran. Dianne could only hope that the perthans wouldn't think to check in the larder.
"Here," one of them called, and ried the lock, which of course did not open. "Locked, of course."
"Of course," the magus answered. "Do stand aside, would you? Thank you." A moment later, the unmistakble sounds of spellcasting began. Dianne jumped to her feet and took up what she hoped would be a decent ambush position of her own. Or at the very least, they wouldn't see her. She held her knife ready, and already she knew that when that door opened, the scamp would make a run for it.
Sure enough, when it opened a few seconds later, Xeevik hurried out the door in a blind panic, her knife completely forgotten in the moment and the blind haze of 'Run in a general direction of the fuck away from here." Good for her. It wasn't so good for Dianne, who hadn't managed to hide. There simply hadn't been time. Instead, she turned and boldly faced all six of them, saying,
"Hey, I recognize her! She's the one who clobbered Lachesis the last time we invaded. Be careful with her, Magus Veri."
The magus looked her over. Unlike the rest of his crew, whom were openly looking her over and wanting a piece of her that had nothing to do with battle, his face was calm and speculative. Except the eyes. They were dark violet yet blazed as blatantly as their grins did.
Dianne wasn't having it. "Don't mind me, Just getting a snack. I'll be going now." She tried to dart past them, but of course was quickly detained. She struggled and fought and even managed to get the knife up and out, but the magus shut that shit down fast. A telekinesis spell was all it took to disarm the still struggling Dianne. The magus smirked at her struggles, then held out his hand. "Give her here. I have right of first claim, as you all well know." There were, of course, good natured complaints and grumbling as the two who held her turned her over to their commander.
"You are lovely. You shouldn't struggle like that," the magus purred. "I'll only want you more." He used Xaurax's knife to cut her work tunic open, laying her flesh bare for all to see. The leers and gross comments about what, exactly, they wanted their leader to do with her, what they wanted to do with her, only barely touched Dianne's mind. She went into a haze of sheer panic, redoubling her struggles. The perthans hooted and yelled and laughed. The magus only smiled.
"Feisty. I like that. Won't do you any good. But now is not the time. We'll just have to wait until we gt you back home, then--"
"No!' Dianne screamed, full volume. Her foot lashed out and caught him right in the very sensitive joining of humanoid and spider bodies. Right where she'd learned in strategy and tactis class was where perthans kept their junk until it came out due to arousal. And the magus was very aroused, indeed.
He howled in agony and dropped her, collapsing to the floor at the same time. "Biiiiiitch!" he shrieked, his voice several octaves higher than his previous husky purr. Dianne didn't bother with sticking around to get captured again. She ran for it. Her feet slipped and slid in the mess of food, blood, spilled ale, and ichor on the floor, but she made it.
Behind her, the magus hissed, "First one to capture her, claims her!"
Dianne ran faster.