Desmond walked along the alabaster white bridge that would take them across the river, this was always an eerie feeling to him; it felt as if he was walking to the edge of the waterfall itself, considering the keep was built upon the edge of it.
He wasn't able to see inside the castle grounds from this angle, but he could clearly view the overhead of the castle; still easily viewing everything deep within the valley.
He unfortunately wasn't able to hear anything below, the torrential downpour the waterfalls created sounded like a neverending pissing contest amongst the gods.
Almost directly below where they were standing, on the terrace underneath them, a crowd was beginning to form a circle around something. He didn't need to hear what they were saying though, he had a good idea of the words being spouted by those gawking fools. They were surrounding the bodies of the two soldiers and the minotaur he had tossed of course.
No doubt there was a commotion that was beginning to stir in the castle grounds. If he strained his ears hard enough, he could just hear the sound of trumpets blasting in the distance. No doubt announcing the presence of some non-existent attacker, Desmond began to let loose a low, rumbling laughter that was heard from deep within his chest.
Vilgis was just staring at him with an incredulous look on his face, as if he had never seen his brother before today.
"What? You know they had it coming to them, damn bastards fell asleep on guard. What else was I supposed to do?"
"Gods, I dunno. Maybe reprimand them? Demote them? Straight up banish their asses or even toss them in the dungeon! I think you went a little too far this time..." He scolded his brother, but he honestly wasn't surprised in the slightest.
"We each have different methods then, I guess." He threw his brother a wry smile, he always knew just how to get him worked up.
A trait that all too often is the older siblings, instead of the younger ones as is the case here.
He began to wander away from Vilgis as he saw some other knights of the church, who were standing just beyond the castle walls.
"See ya later bro, tell pops I said hey." He threw a hand into the air, waving goodbye without even looking over his shoulder.
A pair of knights greeted him casually, despite his rank and status all knights of the church treated each other as equals; with the exception of the Milzani, who was considered to be the Grand Master Knight.
As he got closer, he recognized the both of them as knight commanders in the order; it was Zarius and Veris, both of whom he had fought countless battles side by side with.
Damn he was thirsty, perhaps it was from lugging that minotaur behind him for kilometers; it really didn't matter why though, he just knew he needed a drink.
"Let's go drink."
"Uhh... yeah sure, we got nothing else to do until the hunt tomorrow evening, right, Veris?"
"Right."
Desmond's stroll had never faltered while they answered, determinedly walking towards the small village that lay outside of the castle walls. Although, it wasn't a small village anymore, but a large bustling city.
Certainly not as large or intricately built as Sonnet, but a grand sight to see nonetheless. Of course, none of this mattered to Desmond. He had practically been raised here within the keep, spending many hours in the city now known as Stojimas; which was rumored to mean final stand in a now forgotten tongue.
He walked beneath high hanging banners and flags, flapping about in the chilly evening air in a spastic manner. Although the suns had both set, the city was still thriving with life. Lights beamed up and down the streets from street poles and shops that were staying open late into the night.
He took a few short turns that led them towards the edge of the city, never bothering to look back and see if his companions were following. Smoke rose from several chimneys as they passed houses that were built very closely together, with dark and narrow alleys between them. Desmond sneered at the bums who were standing around fire barrels warming their hands.
Useless. No good. Freeloaders.
He didn't bother trying to weave in and out of the crowd like everybody else was, instead just walking a direct path towards where he intended to go. Everybody moved out of the way for him, he would have expected nothing less.
He had decided on picking a small, busy tavern on the edge of the city, with a nice outside dining pavilion for them to enjoy their mead and some freshly made beef stew. They took a table in the center of the pavilion, causing everybody else outside to either finish their meal early or go request a table inside the tavern.
Absolutely right they should respect our privacy and clear out, he thought absently to himself, it is what we are owed as knights, guardians of the realms against Faye filth.
He hawked up some of the unswallowed beef chunks that were still in his mouth and spit them onto the ground in disgust at the thought of Faye.
"Wench! Come clean this right now, and I don't expect to keep asking you to return for drinks either!" He yelled at the serving woman. He found it strange that she was the only person working there other than the barkeeper, it was fairly packed after all. But maybe that was just a result of Amzia and they hadn't expected such a large turn out to need additional help.
"Heh, how many is that now Dez? Eleven or twelve in two hours? Man, you really know how to throw them back!" Zarius exclaimed to him, just as the serving woman was approaching the table.
Desmond greedily eyed her up and down while she cleaned up the mess he had made.
"Hey guys, I'll be back in a few minutes. I have a great idea."
"Sure thing."
About twenty minutes later, Desmond came dragging the carcass of a now very flattened, gut-covered minotaur. With some effort and more straining then he was expecting, he managed to rip one of the arms free from the beast.
He quickly chugged his drink before slamming it down on the bar, tossing the now severed arm at an unsuspecting barman.
"Cook that." He put a single gold piece down upon the table, more than enough to pay for ten nights at a place like this with food and drink included.
He waited until the arm was fully cooked before returning to his seat. He smelled the arm tentatively, shrugged his shoulders towards his two companions, and took a large bit out of the slightly burned arm.
"Pfft!" He spit it out, almost directly where the serving woman had cleaned up just shortly before.
"What the hells, wench?! I thought I said come clean this mess up! And look here, my drink is drier than the Zalvari desert!"
Desmond paused a moment to allow her to refill their drinks, waiting until she bent over to clean the loogie he had hacked onto the floor. Just as she did, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his pelvis hard.
"Oh, I haven't thrown out any backs yet. If you get what I mean."She had grabbed him by the thighs in her sudden shock of being pulled down. The movement only further excited him, causing him to thrust upwards against her.
He heard glass shatter somewhere in the vicinity of the bar, glancing over he saw the barman had a broken beer mug clenched tightly in his hand. Ahh so this must be his wife, it was so obvious now that they were just a simple husband and wife diner. How much more enjoyable that would make this then.
He reached up and grabbed her long brown hair, tied together in a single, thick braid that trailed all the way down to her ass and pulled hard. She squealed in response, he wasn't sure if it was in pleasure or pain. It didn't really matter though now did it? He pulled again, enjoying the squeal that emitted from her with the action. This time he thought it definitely sounded like she enjoyed it. Damn he was drunk, but not too drunk to finish the night off well he thought.
Wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her from his lap, he spun her around in his arms as if she was nothing but a sack of potatoes. He squeezed her ass that now lay atop of his shoulder and headed towards the barman, who was now furiously scrubbing away at the counter while trying to avoid looking in their direction.
He sauntered over to the barman without taking his eyes off the man, or his hand off the woman's ass.
"One for the room, two for the woman. We don't need cleaning sent until after I depart tomorrow morning. Understood?" He flipped the man three gold coins, watching his eyes grow wide at the sight of them.
The man then mumbled something that Desmond couldn't hear while swiping the coins quickly from the table before hesitantly handing him a room key.
"Alright let's go upstairs." He said over his shoulder giving her another, more playful slap on the rear this time. It emitted a giggle from behind him that he knew could only have been the wife.
The barman turned a beet red and Desmond could see tears swelling within the pitiful man's eyes. Hells, that reaction will probably be a better thrill than the entire night with this broad.
Veris was whistling catcalls to him and the server, no doubt wanting to get in on the fun he had been having at this couples expense.
Turning away from the bar and making his way towards the stairs leading to the second floor of the inn, he peered out past the fields and into the woods. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand while walking.
He just watched Vilgis undress and turn into a bear on the edge of the woods. What the hells? No that couldn't have been right, his eyes must have been playing tricks on him. After all, he was drunk as all hells, he had nineteen drinks. Not eleven or twelve like he had told the others.
Whatever. He would deal with whatever he did or didn't see just now, later. Right now his mind was starting to wander towards other things as he opened the door to his rented room and tossed the woman onto the bed.
He didn't even bother to talk to her before undressing himself and ordering her to do the same. Hadn't even asked her name. It wouldn't matter, because he didn't need it; she wouldn't even be a memory he would consider entertaining after this.
The look of horror and revulsion on her husband's face however, now that would be burned forever within his brain; like a brand upon that of a steed, he smiled maliciously at the memory while climbing atop of her.
****************************************************
Vilgis was sitting in a shadowed corner of the keep's courtyard, cross-legged in a meditative stance while he contemplated questions of life. He was torturing himself as always, he couldnt help it around this time of year, these damned festivals always brought out the worst in everybody.
The crumbling keep was already packed with people swarming all over the ramparts, courtyard, and the keep's great halls by the time they had arrived. Filled with buggies, wagons, and even numerous airships that were docked in the landing bay. This was probably the largest turnout they have ever had.
Everything together made Vilgis feel like he was a butcher preparing a lamb for slaughter. Of course he knew the reason behind why the church actually wanted to hunt these creatures, but he still didn't agree with it. In fact, it was one of the main reasons he pursued the arcane arts to begin with; hoping he could one day discover how to put a stop to this never ending war.
He counted out several deep breaths while slowly checking in with his body. He was cold, but that was to be expected after crossing through a mountain pass. He was angry with his brother. Nothing was new there, it was like Desmond was actually trying to find ways to get under his skin constantly.
He listened to the pounding footsteps of people running back and forth through the courtyard, delivering messages, dancing, following orders, or otherwise just passing through to the keep.
He could hear the distant popping that was fireworks being shot off overhead. The incessant barking of dogs, constantly yapping at one another or wandering around through the streets while pleading for food.
He smelled the remnants of gunpowder that always came with drunkards negligently discharging weapons and the smell of smoked brisket that was wafting through the yard.
The waterfalls pounded against stone overhead, sounding like a copious rainfall; he almost imagined it was some giant, great god of water, beating their fists against the ground in anger.
He began to tune out the sounds of people with the help of the pouring water, and before long allowed his mind to begin drifting towards other things in his meditation.
He enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun upon his skin, after trekking through such a cold pass. After such a frigid cold air, this felt like a million pleasant kisses being bestowed upon his skin.
He threw his senses far, far outside of the castle walls, outside of the city limits even; he began listening to sounds that were much further away than a human should be able to hear.
He heard the sounds of deer running through forests in large herds and horses grazing within pastures just on the edge of town; rodents skittering up and down trees with birds departing from their nests in search of a meal for the young.
He followed the sounds of those birds' wings, drifting ever so lazily upon the wind's current; flapping only when an updraft didn't provide the necessary support.
He turned his attention away from the birds, and listened instead to the wind itself. Listening to a subtle rhythm before matching the cadence of his breathing to it.
As he began to focus on his breathing, he once again reached out to each part of his body. Instead of simply checking up on himself this time, he told each part to begin resting. Putting his body into a deep state of relaxation, and allowing only his mind to remain sharp.
He began attuning himself to the energy that was thrumming within his body, he felt a connection to the earth he was sitting upon; he could sense ants spreading throughout the castle in search of food for their queen.
He felt the life within the fish that were gently swimming upstream, and the presence of some dangerous predator that was scattering some further down the stream.
A heron maybe? It was hard to tell with the presence of so many, and with them all so far away.
He felt the flow of energy passing through him and into the earth, knowing that eventually he would be put into the ground and replenish the earth for what he has been given by it.
He began to focus his mind upon reflection of the past, allowing the myriad sounds and smells to fall into the background with the commotion of people and the roaring waterfalls.
Slowly he began to drift into a mindless state, allowing memories of old to resurface, painfully, once again.