“Is that really necessary?” asked Jason. He gestured vaguely. “She’s our prisoner. Shouldn’t we treat her with respect and stuff? Henry?”
Henry answered, “If we were in the military and this was a war, yes. But this is a fucking fantasy world. Honestly, the rules shouldn’t be any different here. They should be based on what we believe, but sometimes Tanushree is right even though it’s, uh, uncomfortable. I really don’t know how to get any information out of that cultist chick, and I really am ready to go after Mareen in about ten more minutes if we don’t get any new intel. I'm not sure there are many lines I wouldn't cross right now. I want to get my wife back. Failure is not an option.” The man’s voice sounded tired now more than angry. Tanushree knew it was probably a byproduct of extreme emotional distress. She imagined Aodh being on the other side of the helldoor by himself and shuddered.
People of action oftentimes had a difficult time staying still. Experience could temper that, but Tanushree knew she had a long way to go. She was still young, but luckily, her training had been harsh. Henry, though...every bone in his body was probably urging him to jump through the portal right now. He was only controlling himself with will and sheer stubbornness, it seemed.
Henry was a strange man, but Tanushree did feel budding loyalty for the man who’d built her V-death and given her solid claim to her family name. The least she could do was help him find his wife after he’d single-mindedly crossed most of the country for her.
Tanushree removed the last of the cultist’s clothing. The woman was lighter skinned than she’d been expecting. Middle aged. Scarred. The brand of Asag on her thigh. Missing a few toes, probably to feed to demons when she was still an acolyte. Tanushree had heard about these Asag people. Missing toes spoke of past emotional scars. She’d start there.
“Are you absolutely, really sure this is necessary?” said Jason, his voice pained. Henry just stood with his arms folded, stony faced.
“She’s just naked,” Tanushree scoffed. “I can assure you that she’s done much worse to others, probably personally, by her own hand. This cunt gave her entire life to a dark god that thinks feeding demons human flesh is an appropriate way to worship. Human sacrifice is popular, too. I’m starting to understand why reports were coming out of the capital of missing people, especially children. A lot of these rotting bastards are fertilizing the ground around us.”
“But...torture? She’s a woman!”
“What does that matter?” Tanushree frowned. “I agree it would be nice if we could simply kill her, maybe even just cut off her limbs and throw her through the portal for the tender mercies of the demons, but you want information, yes?”
Jason’s mouth hung open, and he closed it with a snap after a moment. The young noblewoman understood she’d missed some subtlety there, but it didn’t matter, not really. The man would either understand or he wouldn’t. This was one of life’s harsh lessons, like death.
Tanushree stared dispassionately at the priestess for another moment before conjuring four mudmen. One of them she kept near her, remembering her lesson again. However, two of them laid hard, soil hands on the woman’s arms and legs, securing them more thoroughly. Tanushree didn’t want the bonds to come off so the priestess could start lashing out with any kind of power.
Then she instructed the last mudman to start crushing the prisoner’s toes one by one. Slowly.
The priestess began shrieking around her gag, writhing. Tanushree nodded, her eyes cold. That was the trick. If you could figure out any insecurities, any fears, then exploit them, it could make everything move much quicker. She was glad that the priestess hadn’t given off certain tells towards Henry or Jason. Tanushree could simulate rape with the mudmen, but the more involved this torture got, the more it would weigh on her soul.
There was always a price. Always.
Tanushree conjured another mudman from the ground, this one smaller, and instructed it to remove the woman’s gag. “What is your name?” she asked, her tone normal, like she was talking to a guardswoman.
“Terrible Asag take you, you rotting, mewling, marked whor—” The woman’s voice was cut off as the small mudman stuck its fist into her mouth. Tanushree instructed the larger mudman to crush another toe. The smaller construct start putting pressure on the back of the prisoner’s throat. When the priestess threw up, the bile made it even harder for her to breath. Adding drowning to the pain could be really terrifying, Tanushree knew.
Henry had a green pallor and look like he wanted to walk away. Tanushree knew him well enough to assume only honor kept him there. In his heart, the man was a healer. The man was all bark and no bite. He was a deadly warrior, but war was different than...what Tanushree was doing. He probably felt responsible and wouldn’t, or couldn’t, try to dodge the burden.
Jason had stopped complaining and didn’t look comfortable, but hadn’t turned away. His expression was complicated. Tanushree knew that look. She’d worn it herself. He had the eyes of someone who knew they were witnessing something terrible, something wrong, but perhaps necessary. He was studying, learning.
When Tanushree’s mudmen had finished crushing the toes and began pulling them off, Jason became noisily sick. Even Henry turned away for a moment, taking a break and breathing heavily through his nose. The Bobrik noblewoman ignored them. She was waiting for just the right time, the moment when the priestess would break and do almost anything to end her suffering.
Since the helpless cultist had been serving a dark god and probably feared what would happen to her soul more than anything Tanushree could do to her physically, the moment of opportunity would probably be short. A keen eye would be needed to spot it and know how to take advantage.
Yes, it was lucky for Henry and Jason that they had her help. It would cost them, though. Hurting the prisoner like this was bringing back some very unpleasant memories for Tanushree. Her training had made her strong, but she could feel her heart hardening as the mudmen began twisting the woman’s other ankle in a way it wasn’t designed to move.
Crushing every bone from the bottom to the top of the woman would be a good place to start. If necessary, she’d have the mudmen fill the woman’s orifices, going deeper and wider slowly as they continued to destroy her limbs. The key to torture like this, in the open, with lives on the line, was to be as methodical as possible. All the effort was wasted unless they got the information they needed. As she continued, Henry finally vomited too. The man was shaking and had tears in his eyes.
The Asag priestess’s throaty, panicked screams were so loud they got around the small mudman’s fist. The woman threw up again, and Tanushree had to pause to flip the prisoner onto her side before resuming again. The potions she’d used would keep the prisoner alive and conscious, but she could still choke to death.
It would almost be time to remove the cultist’s improvised fist gag and ask if she was ready to talk. Tanushree had a legitimate healing potion in her pouch as well as a painkiller. Soon, she could start using it as the temptation of a reward. First, she had to make the prisoner feel as if she’d spent the last few days in agony, having every moment drawn out.
Tanushree’s heart was like ice as she brought the naked woman on the ground closer to the breaking point. The mudmen were very effective for this sort of work. Tanushree’s magic was very versatile, and that thought made her feel a kernel of pride. The fact she could be so good at doing what was necessary, excelling at things others wouldn’t or couldn’t do made her hate herself a little less.
It would have to be enough.
Bad Trip
Vitaliya stood with her arms crossed, trying to suppress raging emotions. She warred with herself between frying the huge, blonde bitch—powerful noblewomen be damned—or being happy that sweet little Aodh had found such a powerful...friend.
Everything about the thought was galling, but also made her incredibly proud. Vitaliya had not been so confused about any one confrontation in her life. Her duty was not complicated, nor wa
s her family loyalty. Her training as Berber Intelligence made the matter razor-clear. Even her brain was in agreement. But was that nasty, aggressive, Bobrik....opportunist, truly even good enough for little Aodh?
The humiliation that Vitaliya had been held on the ground like a child by constructs was not helping matters. If that bitch had known how close she came to being roasted alive, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so smug. But attacking a noblewoman, and one that sweet, precious little Aodh likes as well? Could she do it?
Vitaliya gritted her teeth and warred against her emotional turmoil. Her magic responded to her feelings, making the situation worse, but the Berber Intelligence operative had an iron will. It was why she was ranked at the very top of the new agents and had been partnered with Gonzo, after all.
For the time being, she’d just have to imagine burning the satisfied look off the blonde hussy’s face. Anything for little Aodh. But if Vitaliya had to save Aodh from himself, that was a choice she would make when the time came. If part of her duty was to kill that condescending, noble-born woman, well, wouldn’t that be a shame?
***
Henry struggled against his overwhelming compulsion to jump through the nearby helldoor. No new demons had come through for a while now despite the portal growing larger.
Looking at the ugly thing brought back flashes of what he knew about the other side. Brecken. Asag’s world.
Now Henry knew that the atmosphere on the other side was breathable and that the portal always opened up to the same spot. Without knowing that, just crossing through could have been suicide. He had the information he’d needed to go after Mareen, but the same life experiences that had tempered his urges earlier to go tearing off after his wife were forcing him to act rationally now.
It hurt his heart and actually caused him physical pain to imagine what Mareen might be going through. But at the same time, he wanted to rescue his wife, not die trying. That meant being smart and taking his friends.
The damn fools had all volunteered.
He and Jason had worked fast after interrogating the prisoner. They’d gotten the answers they’d needed from Celina, the Asag priestess that they’d captured. Henry didn’t really understand his friend’s fancy new mind magic, but Jason had helped verify that the priestess had been telling the truth. Volleyball had mercifully put the woman out of her misery after she was questioned, and they’d immediately sprung into action.
About the priestess’s torture...Henry knew his nightmares’ nightmares were going to have nightmares. Witnessing—that—had been terrible, and he might not ever view Volleyball the same way again. Different world, different rules. The thought was grim and not comforting in the slightest.
But when the captive cultist had confessed some of her crimes earlier, including murdering and eating children to appease her dark god, Henry had felt better about the whole thing. None of it was still okay, not at all, but at least he didn’t feel like the villain of his own story anymore.
He shook his head and stepped on top of a box to address the gathered people. His people. They all knew they would be heading into the unknown through a demon portal. They all had their own reasons, but none of them were running away. Henry thought they were all both ridiculously stupid, and incredibly brave.
The flickering fires all around and the slower, large flashes of red lightning in the clear night sky gave everyone a nightmare cast. The reaching shadows plus the seriousness of everyone’s expression made the mood even more somber than it would have otherwise been, no mean feat with the corpses of demons littering the ground around them. The air smelled increasingly more acrid as the helldoor continued to grow nearby.
Henry cleared his throat, suppressing his anger, his frustration, the worry gnawing at his gut, and other emotions he couldn’t even describe. This was not time for feelings. He knew the personal fallout later might be intense, but he and his crew had a woman to rescue and a portal to close.
“Okay, people, this is what we know,” Henry said, making eye contact with everyone in turn. Bezzi-ibbi looked tired but dapper in his fancy clothes. Uluula was small and fierce as always, her hair singed and colored in spots with demon blood. Gonzo stood exhausted and wounded but resolute. The Berber spy had made it very clear that his duty was to stop the demons and close the helldoor.
Volleyball stood next to Aodh, armored in the V-death. Vitaliya, the only member of the briefing group not looking at Henry, glared at Volleyball, staring at the other woman’s back like she might bore a hole through the armor with an intense frown. Henry ignored her.
He said, “This portal is going to keep growing until really big stuff can come through. There is a way to close it on the other side, a temple or something. Our mission is to get through the portal and shut it down. As you all know...we are not coming back through this one.” Nobody reacted, they did already know.
Henry sighed. “These Asag-worshipping assholes are creating another fucking portal in Mensk, the Berber capital city. Because of some mystical mumbo jumbo bullshit, it’s opening in about a day. The thing is, we should be able to see a beacon in the distance in Brecken, the other world on the other side of the helldoor. In Brecken, the distance between these two gates is shorter than in Ludus, this world.
“It’s at least a few days to Mensk from here on Ludus even if we fly with the Mosquito. For those that don’t know, the Delvers LLC Mosquito is the machine hovering over us. MMBs from here will probably take more than a day to reach the capital, too. I already talked to Gonzo about it.” Gonzo nodded. “Then there’s the shield too, but we will get to that later.”
Henry continued, “Basically, even if these Asag assholes don’t win, they’re going to hit the capital with a surprise attack.” He paused before stating, “We are going to stop them.”
Aodh held up a hand. “Why are they even doing this? Isn’t the capital really big? What is the point?”
Henry scratched his head. “This is where things get a little weird. The cultists have been planning this for a long time. Apparently there are lots of little groups like this on Ludus that want to do something. They all have different goals, but they’re basically all dicks.
“These chucklefucks attacked us because someone in their group foresaw us being a threat to their main plan with magic...somehow. Don’t ask me how they came to that conclusion.
“Their plan is to attack the Mensk palace while the queen is going through a ritual to take control of the country. This retarded-ass ceremony is done every ten years or so. The cultists have some bastard acolyte with royal blood that they want to elevate to be queen. This will let them basically take over the country. Well, magically anyway.”
“But how is that even possible?” Uluula asked, scrunching up her brow. “It’s a city with a military and a full guard, and it’s the largest Terran city on Ludus. And more importantly, why? Where did Yelm go?”
Henry facepalmed for a moment before saying, “Those are good questions. I wish I’d been here to shoot Yelm. That rat fuck got away. Where to, I don’t know.
The reason the cultists are doing all of this is because of paranoia in the past. Some king or queen of Berber ordered a kill switch be placed in all the country’s war machines. This will allows all the tanks, or whatever, to be shut down remotely by whoever is running this shit show. Obviously, that way they could neuter a coup.
“Even the ten-year ceremony is a safeguard so monarchs can’t just be held in a basement somewhere indefinitely. Before the ceremony takes place, a shield goes up around the palace to protect it.. In fact, I think the shield might already be up. This would be smart, except these cultists have figured out a way to open a hellgate inside of it.”
Uluula nodded. “Which means most of the Berban security would be cut off from the fighting. Now I understand.”
“Yeah. As evil plans go, it’s actually pretty good.” Henry sighed. “Basically, the cultists could shut down all the military’s big weapons, fill up the inside of the shield with demons be
fore it comes down, and destroy the city at a minimum. They might even be able to take out the whole country, gaining a huge foothold on Ludus. And from what I understand, if Berber falls, there’s all kinds of nasty shit this country keeps in check that would be let loose. Asag would no doubt be pleased.”
“How did we just stumble into this?” asked Volleyball. “As a noble of Berber, I’m obviously honor bound to fight just like the Intelligence agents are. But the rest of you...why did the cultists attack you?”
“We have, ah, a sort of history.” Henry coughed. Now was not the right time to rehash all they’d done or seen on Ludus so far. “Don’t worry about it, Volleyball. We can talk about all this shit later. Right now let’s go save my wife and your backward-ass country.” Volleyball nodded.
Uluula nodded as well and said, “Indeed, time is wasting. I am hoping my friend is still alive. If she is not, I am holding all of us responsible, including you and myself. So what is the plan? What next?”
Henry felt a chill as Uluula’s expression didn’t waver. She was dead-ass serious, and she was right. Especially now that he knew he could have just jumped through the portal, the seeds of doubt concerning his decision to gather information before rescuing Mareen nagged at the back of his mind. But he gave himself a mental shake. Doubting himself in the middle of a crisis was a great way to be a piss-poor leader, after all.
All the night terrors, drinking, and staring at the wall could wait until later.
“Alright, pay attention because we’re leaving in like five minutes. Vitaliya and Gonzo’s bikes are already on the Mosquito. Jason has been transporting some more stuff from the Battlewagon to the Mosquito, too. It’s what he’s doing now. The Mosquito is gonna stay here, crewed by the goblins and Volleyball’s guardswoman. They’re going to watch the helldoor until it closes, or the cavalry comes, whichever is first.”
Delvers LLC: Adventure Capital Page 37