Age of Penance - The Tear of Sarwen

Draven found himself in a corridor carved directly into the mountain. The tunnel was narrow and looked ancient, the ground worn by steps and time, and the arching walls damp and spotted with stalactites. It was dark and the air was muggy, torches were few and dim, barely overcoming the obscurity. There was nobody in Draven’s immediate sight, the others must have gone deeper already, and it was time for him to follow. After a long walk in the gallery, deeper into the mountain, a faint blue light started to appear in the distance ahead. The rogue approached slowly, careful not to draw attention. There were voices, he heard words shouted in anger with a strange reverb echoing through the carved rock. The tunnel was getting wider, he soon faced a doorway with intricate symbols carved all around, which opened on a wider room still. Draven stepped closer and risked a look.

The chamber was wide and deep. The left side looked like a place of worship, with an alley running down its length, lined with high columns directly carved into the rock. And on the right the chamber extended further into a wide space that looked more recent, and was also used for storage, there were chairs, chests and what looked like supply crates. On the very far corner, he noticed a rack with few old weapons, and thought he distinguished torture instruments, whips, crops canes, pliers, another sign the sisters might be following the penance afterall.  His attention was drawn by the alley on the left however, which led further down onto a nave with a circular stone podium elevated from the ground, again directly carved in the rock. There were the silhouettes of the three assassins, arguing with what looked like a tall, thin woman in a dress. There was something else on the podium, a large apparatus or a piece of furniture it seemed. It was hard to distinguish, because further still a bright blue light was shining bright, atop steps of what must be the altar. This was the place he had been meant to go, he was sure of it. That same feeling he had was now amplified, but he was still not sure what it was exactly. Was it the light, or that thing on the podium? He needed to know more. The shouting was escalating though, there was no time to waste, so he started to walk down the aisle towards the group. 

- “I’m Head Mother Leana” he heard the woman repeat, in a menacing tone as if it was supposed to thwart the three men from threatening her. 

- “Move aside, old witch!” Lance immediately replied. 

- “I am the guardian of this sacred temple! Leave, heathen! Your very presence corrupts it!”

- “Jael wants you alive, but I doubt he will care as long as we bring him his prize” he replied, gesturing to the source of the blue light behind her.

The three men appeared to be done with her threats, they stepped closer to her and drew their weapons. Draven needed to act now if he wanted answers. Throwing caution into the wind, he ran to the group, drawing all eyes turned to him as he discovered the entirety of the scene he was just before observing from afar. 

The girl confronting the three assassins, Mother Leana as she said she was called, was a beautiful older woman with long white wavy hair. She wore an elegant dress with intricate blue and white patterns, tied around her thin waist with a blue silk ribbon. An ornate pendant of sapphire and silver hung around her neck and plunged down the cut of her dress into her generous cleavage, still firm for her age. She wore bracers on her naked arms, and beautiful earrings matching her necklace. Her face had the beauty of someone who’s aged with grace, she looked vulnerable but strong facing the three menacing men, with her clear blue eyes staring directly into theirs. 

Next to her, the apparatus was in fact some sort of torture rack and someone was bound on it, wrists and ankles tied with ropes at each corner. They were strong and muscular, and at first Draven thought it was a man, but her spread legs clearly exposed the outline of a pussy slit to the rogue, and her strong chest muscles bore small but firm white tits topped with wide pink nipples. She seemed incredibly strong, but she was a girl indeed, maybe on the younger side, she had wide hips, a thin rock-hard waist and a cute pale round face with freckles, her mouth barred with a tight wood and leather gag. And she had been worked on too, her body was covered in lash marks and her tits bore nasty bruises, likely the result of pliers. Whatever had happened to her, she seemed clearly unhappy with her current predicament. She was actively trying to free herself, contracting her powerful muscles and pulling on the thick ropes that were holding her down.

- “Wait!” Draven called towards the older woman. “Who are you? What is this place?” 

Lance, who had just turned back to face Draven, did leave her a chance to reply. Instead a smirk drew on his face as he replied.

- “Sellsword scum! That is the very last time you get in my way. Men, we will be disrespected no longer. Kill them both!”

Lance and the assassin next to him lunged towards the rogue, while the third one went after Leana. Draven, at first stunned by the aggressive move, jumped aside just in time to stay out of their grasp and dashed for cover. The situation was dire, the assassins were vicious fighters and his chances in a direct fight with two of them were slim at best. Fortunately fate, or rather Mother Leana, intervened on his behalf. A thunderous crackling sound ripped through the air and swept his assailants to the side, sending them tumbling down. Leana had woven a complex pattern in the air and spoken ancient words, and a sparkling, crackling dome had been conjured out of thin air over the circular podium. It caught the steps of all three assassins who, luckily for the rogue, had overstepped its bounds, while he had been far enough to escape it. He used the brief respite to count his blessings, to hide behind a column and ready his crossbow. The two recovering men, seeing the shining tip of the bolt pointed at them, opted to retreat and join their comrade,who had also been shocked and shoved back after his attempted strike on Mother Leana. Draven could finally afford a short breather, relieved to have survived the initial attack

* - *

The situation overall however, did not look promising. The assassins had taken cover behind crates across the room from the protective dome, and had started letting arrow after arrow onto the shield. The projectiles were bouncing off, but Leana shook and wavered dangerously under each impact, as if it still hurt her. The shield was starting to weaken and flicker in some places, and it was clear that it would give up at some point soon, and all she was achieving it seemed was postponing the inevitable. If that’s all the powers she had, Draven would soon be back at a disadvantage, with the assassins outnumbering him three against one. 

A few more arrows hit the crackling barrier and it came dangerously close to fully dissipating. Draven adjusted his aim through and past the shield, maybe if he timed it right and didn’t twitch, he could take down just when it went out. He could have really used his “True Aim” spell at this point... but alas, no magic energy left. One last arrow ricocheted on the dome, it flickered in a strange broken noise and then the protection was gone. Leana let out an expletive, before starting to gesture for another spell but she was too slow, the next arrow struck her right in the shoulder, she screamed in pain as she twisted and fell on the cold stone floor. This was Draven’s window to take the shot, he let his bolt fly… damn! Just above the head. 

At least he had scared them into ducking, giving enough time to the wounded Leana to skulk away into hiding. But she was still vulnerable and an easy target. If he wanted any chance to talk to her later on, he would need to draw their attention and do it right away. Flanking them might work. Without taking any time to think though, he ran back towards the entrance of the room as fast as he could, hoping to catch their eyes but escape their projectiles, and dove behind one of the stone columns. There was a “WISSS” sound in the air and the “CLING” of a metal point hitting the rock just above his head. His plan had worked, at least for the moment they were focusing on him… but what was next? He was closer to them now… if all three decided to charge and swarm him, he might take one out if he was lucky, but then it would be the end. Regrets started to creep onto his mind… What had he been thinking? And what good was Leana alive if he was not?

* - *

Before he could complete his dreadful train of thoughts, a resounding “CRRRAAAASH” followed by a high-pitched scream ripped through the stone room. Draven, caught by surprise, turned his head to discover that the girl tied on the torture rack was suddenly standing-up, emerging from a heap of broken pieces of wood. She held her ripped-off gag with one hand, strips of rope were still dangling from her wrists and ankles, but she was free. 

She immediately dove towards the old weapon rack, seized a large shield and an old sword, then turned back to face the three assassins. Her stance was aggressive, determined, ready to spring into action. But what drew Draven’s attention were her eyes, glowing of an almost unnatural blue. He had to squint to make sure he was not mistaken, but yes her eyes were getting brighter and brighter. Soon the blue halo spread around her powerful girl body, her shield and her sword. The light got even brighter until it flashed, and a loud “BOOOOM” shook the room. In the blink of an eye, she closed the distance between her and the assassins, blowing through the crates they used as cover, which exploded under the force of the impact and sent pieces flying everywhere. Lance on her left and the assassin on her right dove out of the way, but the man in the middle didn’t have a chance to move out of the way, completely taken by surprise. His shocked eyes, wide open in disbelief, followed powerless the wide and swift swing of her blade, which embedded itself deep in his face with a loud “TCHAAAK”. The struck man convulsed for an instant then became limp, dropping his bow to the floor, before collapsing onto the ground, the weapon still lodged inside his skull.

Draven didn’t need to make sense of what just happened to know this was the break he desperately needed. He stood-up and let his bolt fly into the startled assassin who had dived out of cover towards him. Finally a hit, but a non lethal one unfortunately. The projectile went right into his arm, he screamed and dropped his weapon under the shock. Nevertheless, hope was back in Draven’s mind, they could win this fight as long as the girl would not turn on him.

Lance rose on the far side, cursing and running for cover. From a three against one advantage just a moment ago, he had now one companion wearing a sword in the middle of his face, another with an arrow in the arm, and was facing two determined enemies ready to finish him. The naked fighter girl, who had to use her foot to pull her sword out of the man’s skull, turned her attention to him. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Draven couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the twitching muscles of the powerful back the girl was presenting to him. It was criss-crossed with whip marks and despite, but despite its muscular appearance it was still feminine, transitioning down onto a narrow arched waist and to a wide but beautiful round and firm ass. Her legs, parted in her combat stance, let him catch a glimpse of the round smooth lips slightly protruding between her toned thighs. He had to shake his head to refocus on the action at hand, and remind himself he should thread carefully with her, even if she seemed to focus all of her aggression towards the assassins. Afterall, he had no idea if she would turn on him later, if she was able to take care of Lance. He thought for a moment of letting a bolt at her exposed neck, but something about it felt wrong in his gut… 

* - *

In any case he had very little time to ponder the dilemma, before yet another unexpected turn of events unfolded. A dark, disturbing noise started to emanate from the location Lance had retreated to, and soon the same harrowing sounds came from the wounded assassin. It was something between cries and dark chants, but they sounded distorted, inharmonious, almost inhuman. Chills ran down the rogue’s spine and he felt a chilling sensation cold course through his very bones. The two men were chanting in a strange language, incomprehensible for the most part, except for one word that seemed to come back over and over in their incantation, “... Mara … Mara …” Even the blue light from the back of the room seemed to cower and flicker at the malevolent words. A thick, impenetrable darkness soon crept into the room, slithering in from every dark corner towards the two men. It was not long before it rose in a thick pitch-black fog and obscured the two assassins from view, leaving both Draven and the sword-wielding girl at a loss on how to react. 

Then, the dark clouds dissipated as fast as they had appeared, collapsing onto themselves with a particularly unpleasant hissing suction sound. They revealed two nightmarish, tall, thin and bony creatures in place of Lance and the assassin, wearing the same leather armor which was now grotesquely too wide and much too short, like shreds of old reptile skins still stuck to their new bodies. They had a glistening black appearance, their faces reduced to skulls wrapped in smooth black skin, large black orbs for eyes surrounded by a familiar purple hazy halo, and sharp obsidian spikes as teeth. They started moving in an unnatural way, strangely undulating in snake-like motions while sniffing, and observing their surroundings as if seeing it for the first time. 

The creature closer to Draven, which was previously the assassin he had struck in the arm, slowly rose up from the ground, and to the rogue’s dismay it tore the bolt away its bony arm with a dismissive gesture and discarded it on the cold stone floor, apparently unharmed. Meanwhile, Draven’s mouth was gaping open in dismay at the surreal scene. What twisted curse was this? It would have been easy for him to fall into despair, after one more edge towards victory that had vanished, replaced by what seemed a living nightmare. But something snapped in him. Magic or not, cursed creatures or not, he would not go down without giving them hell first. He dropped his crossbow, unsheathed his dagger, and got ready to test what color those demonic creatures would bleed.

It was the girl however, who acted first. She screamed in rage and launched herself toward the creatures, her naked small tits bouncing and her sword angrily swinging around. She quickly closed the gap on Lance’s creature form, but despite powerful hacking and slashing, her blade failed to hit the monster, he was too fast at contorting itself to avoid each blow. Worse, the second creature rallied and hissed its way towards her. Together, the two creatures screamed and screeched, their black gaping mouths revealing more rows of sharp black teeth before leaping on the tiring girl like furies. She tried to raise her shield to fend them off, but it was pointless. She was quickly overwhelmed, taking hit after hit, bit after bite, her shield and sword were soon ripped from her hands and hurled away. She swung fiercely, even with her bare fists, missing most of the time, until she finally landed one single hit. It didn’t do much for damage but it startled and upset the creature, which reacted by jumping on to her and unleashing a deafening scream accompanied by a “THOOOMP” that shook the whole chamber. The sheer force of it violently shoved her up in the air and threw her naked body across the room to violently crash on the stone-carved wall behind Draven before rolling and collapsing almost at his feet.

For a moment he thought she was dead given the violence of the shock, but the girl was strong and robust indeed. She blinked as if to get out of a daze, then turned her head and seemed surprised to find the rogue staring at her. He saw in her clear blue eyes the same puzzlement at the incredible turn of events they had been dragged into. There was also vulnerability in her look, and the same fear and doubts he was experiencing just moments ago. Was that stranger friend or foe? Could he be trusted? 

Draven seized the moment. Her hand was laying open on the cold rock, so he extended his, and she seized it with a strong, firm grip. The moment they touched a spark jolted Draven’s hand, followed by a wave of that same feeling again, of comfort and familiarity, that this was the place he was supposed to me, the hand he was supposed to hold. The girl experienced it too, he saw something click in her eyes as she did, like a revelation dawned onto her. But she was guarded, weary of letting her guard down. The lips on her sweaty and beaten but cute round face seemed to want to move like she had something important to say, however she still hesitated.

- “You can trust me” Draven finally uttered, in a tone as reassuring as he could.

- “I have no choice but to” she replied, more to herself than as an answer to him, “Come, help me get closer…”

He pulled her up and she helped herself as much as she could given how beaten, bruised and bleeding she was. She finally managed to stand, wrapping her other arm around Draven’s neck and pulled herself against his body. She was shorter than him, but he found she was heavier than he expected for her size. And now that she was pressed against him he could feel for himself how hard and tough her body was, except maybe for her small soft tits topping pressed flat against him. Her lips were mere inches from his, and her eyes locked on his. Leaning against him, she let go of his neck and seized the wrist on his weapon hand.

- “Your dagger…” she said in an imperative tone, “stab me with it… stick it in my thigh, deep, all the way in…”

As she said the words, she guided his hand to point the weapon onto the firm muscles of her leg. And then she continued, blushing.

- “... and then, kiss me!”

- “What?” Draven immediately replied, startled.

- “Don’t make it difficult…” she scolded back at him, before switching to a softer tone, “please… trust me, this is our only chance…”

Her voice and tone were insisting, but her eyes showed she did not seem particularly fond of the prospect. As if to convince him, and maybe herself further, she pushed her body against him, thrusting, her naked hips now in full contact with his crotch. Draven, despite the awkwardness of the moment, was finding her bold plea for pleasure and extreme pain not without charm, as demonstrated by his cock getting stiffer against the firm mound of the fighter girl. He was sure she could feel him in turn, but she did not move back. He looked one more time into her reluctantly pleading eyes, and made up his mind. 

He pushed hard with his weapon arm and plunged the sharp steel deep into her flesh, stabbing her all the way to the hilt. He felt all of her muscles contract from the pain. He was expecting to hear her scream but she contained it, trembling, with tears peeling from the corner of her eyes. With all the focus she could muster, she pronounced a few words in “Sejarah” which he did not understand, and finished with slightly parting her lips, ready for him. That was his cue, he grabbed the back of her head and plunged his tongue inside her mouth. She froze and hesitated but only for a short moment, and then despite the pain, she reciprocated, pressing her lips to his and swirling her tongue against his. 

Draven found himself caught in the moment and enjoying the kiss, even if part of his mind was racing, wondering what in the deep abyss of hell was truly happening. All of this had been so unreal, so many events one after the other, each as unlikely as the next… But there was something relaxing, enthralling even to be holding this fierce girl and passionately kissing her in the middle of a deadly battle. And soon the pleasing feeling turned incredible, he suddenly felt fulfilled in a manner he could not explain… this was too much… it was… his magic energy was back… absolutely full as if he had been resting for weeks! She let go of the kiss, moved her head back, just in time for him to see the bright blue light in her eyes fading, replaced by a look of absolute exhaustion, and a longing for unguarded hope. 

It slowly clicked in his head, her spell had gifted him every last drop of magical energy she had left. And her eyes were hoping she had not just committed a fatal mistake in trusting this stranger with all she had. She stepped back, and despite her injury and the void that was left in her from gifting her magical energy to Draven, she moved to the side to face the monsters once more. Without a word, grimacing in pain and pulling the very last of her strength, as naked and defenseless as she was, she charged at the creatures. 

Draven focused his mind in return and tightened the grip around the hilt of his dagger now red with the girl’s blood. And he ran to flank the creatures. With his renewed magic, each step felt right, like he was in total control, experiencing his surroundings in slow motion. From the corner of his eyes he saw the two monstrosities rush and charge on the girl. He leapt, all the while moving the fingers of his right hand to cast both his ‘Moves in the Shadows’ spell first, which enabled him to avoid drawing their attention, and then his trusted ‘True Aim’ spell. He had never cast two spells back to back like this, let alone while moving to attack, but everything just felt right and the spells succeeded perfectly. His leap landed him right behind the creatures, who were unleashing all they had against the poor girl, and failed to even notice him. 

He struck the first creature right at the base of the skull with his blade aimed up, he drove the blade deep then pulled out, and struck once more on the other side. The creature arched its back, hissed and twisted, before rolling and collapsing onto the ground. The second creature, the one that used to be Lance only a few moments before, pulled its attention from the girl and turned towards Draven, but too little too late and the only thing it saw was the point of the rogue’s blade coming straight for its eye. It went deep into the socket before Draven twisted the blade. The monster’s black serrated mouth opened, screaming in pain. Draven pulled the blade out and stabbed it hard up into its open ribbed palate, then drove it all the way in with a push of his other hand onto the end of the hilt. The creature soon shook in agony before turning limp, its monstrous mouth remaining open, as it collapsed on the ground, joining its vanquished companion. Immediately the monsters started to crackle and fizz, emitting thick smoke, and when it finally cleared it was their human form who lay dead on the cold floor, that of Lance and the assassin, with no trace left of the nightmare creatures they had turned into.

* - *

Draven exhaled, finally he could breathe, the battle was won. Around him the chamber looked like it had been struck by a storm, broken wood was everywhere, with three dead assassins lying on the ground, and one hell of a brave and fearless girl collapsed on the cold stone floor as well, but still breathing… 

- “Son… son… come closer… we don’t have much time.”

It was the faint voice of injured Mother Leana calling to him. He stepped towards her. She had been hiding in a corner, sitting on the bare floor with her back against the wall, and her hand holding the arrow still embedded in her shoulder. She had lost blood, and the whole side of her dress was smeared in red.

- “They will come soon… my daughters won’t have won the fight… most of us are not fighters…”

Draven had so many questions.

- “Who are you? What in hell’s abyss happened here, and what were these creatures of nightmare?”

- “Listen… a dark tide is upon us, my daughters and I will not survive it… but you must!”

Draven was going to reply but she gestured to him.

- “Please, hear me. Jael will come and take the Tear. The light in the temple, behind us. It comes from a sacred relic, the Tear of Sarwen. It is what they are truly after, it is why we are being massacred, and why Cliffrock was invaded even, I suspect.”

Draven mumbled the words “penance and gods” in response, but mother Leana shook her head.

- “No, my son. The penance is but an excuse, you must have gotten a glimpse of the pain we subject ourselves to… there is much that you should know… but I have little time… You are important… you mean more than you know…”

- “What? What does this even mean?”

- “Brynn, you must help her, save her. Please, I beg you… You must if you want to understand… she can answer much of your questions…”

- “Brynn?”

- “Yes Brynn, the girl that just saved your life. She must live. Help her, free her. Then together, you must retrieve the Tear. This is the only way…”

Draven was baffled, he wanted explanations, not being given orders…

- “What about those monsters? What were they?”

But there was only silence from the Head Mother.

-  “They had the same glow in their eyes as the Rupture beasts?” Draven tried, “Didn’t they?”

- “Yes… indeed they did… You must search for these answers… do not trust anyone of power… and most of all Jael… he is more dangerous than you could know.”

Before Draven could ask again, he heard loud steps coming from the corridor, many steps. A group of men burst into the chamber, with Silas at their head. Mother Leana immediately closed her mouth and gave a last supplicating look to Draven. 

Before even paying attention to Draven, Silas went straight to the Altar and retrieved the light emitting Tear, which shut its light off as soon as he grabbed it. With the chamber in renewed darkness save for the torches of the newcomers, the master assassin finally turned to Draven.

- “What in the Elemental Gods happened here?” 

* - *

Hours later, Draven was standing in the convent’s courtyard, the dirt was stained with the blood of the battle that had just raged and littered with dead bodies. Many girls were dead, and the rest had been taken prisoner. Those had been stripped of their dresses and were lined up kneeling, ankles and wrists tied. The rogue recognized Elsie who it seemed had her cunt spreader removed. Liam was not far and kept an eye on her. Mother Leana had also been dragged into their ranks, her older body exposed and her shoulder bandaged. And just as he was about to walk away, two assassins dragged- n the girl with the pale blue dress, the ice-ball caster, and threw her down with the other prisoners. She was bound so tight she could barely move at all. To make sure she could not use her abilities, a piece of wood had been shoved into her throat and secured as a gag, and her interlocking-fingers hands had been nailed together before being thoroughly tied. Silas was surprised they did not outright kill her, but maybe the order thought a quick death was too kind of a fate for her, and Draven knew how much the order valued the public torture and execution of magic-wielding women .

The body of the fighter girl, Brynn as she was called, was also nearby. Draven had argued with Silas that she must be handed as a workhorse and pain meat to the Iron Slaves, as a thank you to Stormguard. The conversation had been difficult, especially given the three assassins killed in the temple, but in great part thanks to Draven’s recharged magical energy, he had been able to get him to agree in the end.

And of course, Draven had made no mention of the monstrous shape Lance and his men had turned into and neither had he shared any hint of Brynn’s stunning magical powers. It had been more than satisfied with no one really questioning his account of the battle, where per his account, the Head Mother with her powerful cursed magic and incredible luck had turned the tide of the battle and allowed her warrior to kill the three men despite her inferior skills. Heeding the words of Mother Leana, he preferred to keep the whole story to himself and not trust anyone. There was simply no way to understand who knew about such things and no reason to risk sharing it at this point.

Above the high walls of the convent, the dark sky had given place to the faint light of the early morning. There were still many questions bouncing in Draven’s head, but at this particular movement, all he really wanted to think about was the sweet, soft and obedient curves of his slave Jennee back down at the Pained Maiden, and how he would lose himself in her sweet screams as soon as he could once again torment her soft breasts and torture her wet open cunt. There laid the true prospect of comfort for a warrior’s rest, away from battles, cryptic witches and ungodly monsters.

* - *

To be continued in Chapter 9: Instrument of Pain