Eldritch Quest part.01 (The Witch)

 

     His name is Dorkaring, it is said his father is a dragon and his mother a woman very good at yoga and very kinky. It’s said in kingdoms other than the one he was born in…or at least very quietly as Dorkaring is the prince, his mother Queen Catherine has a stable of riding dragons that she is very fond of “riding”. Dorkaring has the strength of twelve men, can run faster than any horse, and skin so thick he once ran his hand through a wooden door when he was two and didn’t feel a thing. He is not a stately prince, a man found of barbarian armor, horned helmets, and getting piss faced drunk on ale at the local taverns, or not so local. Beer, wenches, and adventure, that is his thing. Of all the riding dragons in the stable he always liked to imagine Black Buck was his father, a beast nearly the height of a horse at the shoulder, and twenty times as fast.

 

   “come ‘ere babe.” says Dorkaring drunkenly scooping up a woman who had just walked into the tavern, crushing her ample bosom against his chest.

 

   “My aren’t you a big one,” she says looking up at him with her dark blue eyes and stroking his hair chest with her hand.

 

   With a twisted smile that should have alerted him to the danger, not to mention her outfit, she says, “Telekinetic Hold.”

 

   His body is held tight in the invisible force his arm pushed back off of her. She lowers herself to the ground by floating.

 

   “Telekinetic Thrust,” she says sending him flying across the tavern smashing into a table, causing the warriors there, his drinking buddies to stand and draw their swords.

 

   “My mistake,” says Dorkaring sitting up un-phased and taking  a swig from a nearby pitcher, “looks like I mistook a witch for a wench aye?”

 

   He stands up and pops his neck in both directions, “but I reckon you don’t know who I am aye? Witch?”

 

   “Random barbarian drunkard number three thousand and ninety seven.” Sorceress crossing her arms across her black corset like top.

 

   “funny one,” says Dorkaring, “I am the great hero Dorkaring? Son of Black Buck the dragon and Queen Catherine!”

 

   The bar patrons actually gasp as the prince himself admits to the rumors.

 

  “Grandson of the hero Dorkatest,” he continues not paying attention to his surroundings, “Great grandson of King Dorkamajorist who slew the demon beast Fanfukertast and tamed the wingless dragons of the plains starting the tradition of the royal family to keep those mighty beasts.”

 

   He flexes his muscles, “I am stronger than ten men easily, faster too, every woman from here to the grant Yang Yang river would give her first born and her husband to be with me for one night…no just one hour! Ha haa haaa haaa haaa!”

 

   His boisterous laughter echoes across the tavern and wakes a few patrons upstairs.

 

  “That is a lot of dorks,” says the woman as she turns to the tavern keeper, “I think perhaps I came to the wrong bar, I was looking for a certain man…quietly, a man called the Second Scion of the Hidden Arts…but instead it seems I entered a gay leather bar…guess the bear over here mistook me for a transvestite. I will take my leave now.”

   “huh…wha?” says Dorkaring in a drunk haze as the woman turns to leave.

 

  “Now hold on witch!” he shouts grabbing her cape.

 

  “Ouch!” he screams as blood shoots from his hand, her cape glowing and slicing his palm.

 

   She stops however as he just shakes his hand, which stops bleeding almost instantly, “yer cape gave me a paper cut.”

 

   “Should have cleaved your hand in two,” she says, “guess the rumors the drunken prince of this land is the bastard son of a queen who fucked a dragon are true…interesting…but not my concern.”

 

   “You drew me blood,” says Dorkaring, “at least tell me yer name witch.”

 

  “If it gets you to stop calling me witch then very well…I am Rhulan…Rhulan the Sorceress.”

 

   As she walks out the door the tavern keeper walks over to Dorkaring, “my old friend,” whispers the tavern keeper, “perhaps you had too much to drink this evening, you should SLEEP it off.”

 

   Dorkaring yawns and says, “show me, me room, and fetch me three wenches to keep me warm.”

 

  “At once,” says the tavern keeper, who nods to one of the wenches.

 

    ******

 

   “You are the one seeking the Second Scion of the Hidden Arts,” whispers an attractive petite bar wench from the alley as Rhulan passes.

 

   “Are you her?” asks Rhulan.

 

   “No,” she says, “I’m his apprentice,”

 

  Rhulan looks the girl up and down narrowing her eyes, “perhaps this was a mistake,”

 

  As Rhulan walks away the girl says, “wait…my master owns the tavern,”

 

  “Not helping,” says Rhulan

 

  “He put the prince under a sleeping spell so he wouldn’t pursue you,”

 

  “Still not helping,” says Rhulan, “I owe no favors for preventing me from killing this kingdom’s prince.”

 

  “He’s not usually…”

 

  Rhulan stops, turns, and glares.

 

  “Okay, he’s always an asshole,” says the girl,

 

  Rhulan smiles slightly.

 

  The girl bows, “On behalf of my master the Second Scion of the Hidden Arts, I apologize for your mistreatment at my master’s place of business.”

 

  “Second Scion not pay well?” asks Rhulan.

 

 “The Hidden school is more religious than business, we have to make our own way, and my master shut down his magic shop ever since fewer adventurers have come through here. The local…hero…takes care of everything, there has been no need for spell casters or parties with them to deal with any of the monsters that appear in our lands. A portal appears, my master alerts him, he rushes in, destroys the magic core making the portal vanish, and the Dragon Riders deal with the monsters that try to escape. What little has made it out, the local authorities have been able to deal with themselves.”

 

   “Exposition aside,” says Rhulan, “I have business to discuss with your…master…” the word rolls off her tongue like snot that has been hacked back into the throat, “that must be discussed in private.”

 

   “This way please,” says the girl with a relieved expression.

 

    ******

 

   The inn keeper’s office, in reality his own room above the tavern, right next to the rooms where his patron’s sleep, including Dorkaring right in the next room with a wench in each arm and one on him like a blanket. In this cluttered office Rhulan sits in a chair, across from the inn keeper and his protégé.

 

   “May I formally introduce myself,” he says, “I am Second Scion of the Hidden Arts, Sir Tavaris the Magician, this is my protégé, Nicole.”

 

   Rhulan eyes them both, “very well, I am Rhulan the Celestial Sorceress, she who speaks with dragons, master of the dark arts that even gods fear…enough of a title or should I keep going…how about Master of Chaos Magic, Bringer of Cataclysms, Mother of Dragons, keeper of secrets beyond the veil of the abyss, and so forth and so on…anywho…you know why I am here, Xin told me she would contact you before I arrived; as you no doubt must know this already as you made contact let’s cut all this crap and get down to business.”

 

   “Such a mouth on a woman,” says Tavaris with a sneaky smile.

 

  “I am about three seconds from killing you,” says Rhulan with an icy stare, “I have wasted enough time on this task, I do not desire to waste any more, especially on some backwater mudball in the void that hasn’t even invented soap yet.”

 

   “We have soap…” whispers Nicole.

 

  “I…have my doubts,” says Tavaris, “the Omega Supreme Scion Xin, or as she is known around here, She who Dwells Beyond the Timeless Door, did tell me one of her kind was coming here, to look for a sorceress in a…revealing black outfit with deep blue eyes and blood red hair…but you hardly.”

 

   Rhulan begins to glow and rises off the ground, the very air around her rippling with energy making the hair on their necks stand on end, her eyes emit dark blue flames. There is a crash in the room next to them and Rhulan lowers herself before the now silent pair before her.

 

   “Xin is a goddess to your people is she not?” asks Rhulan, “to your order? She told me the other people here now regard her as some sort of faerie or demon…know this mortal I am far more powerful than Xin is…she is the seventh most powerful spell caster in all the known existence, I am…the second most powerful…you will speak to me with all the respect you give your master….understood?”

 

   Tavaris nods his head and indicates for Nicole to retrieve the scroll they set aside for this meeting.

 

   “This…Lord Rhulan…” he says taking deep breaths, “is the scroll of the unspeakable one.”

 

   It levitates from his hand into hers. She turns and vanishes, a blue flash of her outline and gone. He sits back before there is tap on the window, a tiny grey cat us tapping on the glass in code. Nicole opens the window allowing the animal in. It jumps down from the sill walks across the room to where Rhulan was and turns very sharply and alarmingly towards Tavaris, its eyes flashing gold as it morphs into a petite girl wearing an orange witch dress with black cats and black bats adorning it, and an orange witch hat with holds in the brim for her grey cat ears, and her tail coming out from a hole above the skirt part of the dress.

 

   “Omega Supreme Scion,” says Tavaris with a bow.

 

   “Wow,” says Xin with a smile, “she let you live after all…darn…lost the bet.”

 

  “m…master?’ says Tavaris.

 

  “takes balls,” says Xin, “yep, big ones to be all misogynistic towards Rhulan…oh yeah,”

 

   “Gods are different,” starts Tavaris.

 

   “Stop it right there,” says Xin, “I’m all respectful of the culture and all…but…I know two others who might be peeking in…Rhulan among them…who’d kill you in an instant if they heard that kind of thing…and I’d still have lost the bet because it happened after the meeting.”

 

   Tavaris diverts his eyes, “My apologies master, my deepest apologies,”

 

   “He’s been around these barbarians and…” begins Nicole.

 

  Tavaris *shushes* her and whispers, “don’t…no excuses.”

 

  Nicole just nods.

 

  “She wasn’t what you were expecting was she?” asks Xin offering him an opening to make an excuse.

 

  “No master,” says Tavaris.

 

  “Bet you were expecting her to be all sneaky, turn into an animal or come from the shadows.”

 

   “Yes master,” says Tavaris.

 

  “Be glad she didn’t,” says Xin with a wink, “she’d be like this huuuuuge dragon” she makes a broad gesture with her arms, “that would stomp all over the town and like pluck you up like a bug in her claw…or like the shadows would darken the sky as inky as all get out clouds with like netherworld monsters in them…”

 

   Tavaris just blinks, and Nicole turns a bit pale.

 

   “Goddess of Cataclysms and chaos,” says Xin with a slight laugh, “subtle isn’t her thing,”

 

   “and you had me give her the scroll of the unspeakable one?!” shouts Tavaris before covering his mouth, staring in disbelief that he raised his voice to the Omega Supreme Scion.

 

   “You have been here too long,” says Xin, “I’m transferring you immediately to Rivenchip effectively…right now.”

 

   She waves her arms and orange, blue, and purple star sparkles float everywhere. In a blink everything is gone, Tavaris and Nicole find the room, exactly as it was only with a different view out the window, the marble walls and three story houses of Rivenchip, and they are in the attic it seems given the view of one such house. Back in the empty room the door slams open as Dorkaring barges in.

 

   “Where’s the tavern keeper?” demands Dorkaring, “tell me at once cat witch!”

 

   He draws his sword.

 

  “You were eavesdropping,” says Xin with a giggle and pose like a school girl, “naughty little boy…bet she knew it too…better watch out or the dominatrix will give you a spanking you’ll never forget, tee hee.”

 

   He points his sword at Xin, “I heard everything, I’ll get that witch, stop whatever thing she’s got going. First one less demon in the woods Ha!”

 

   As he swings Xin just vanishes in a wave of dancing stars, he brings his sword down through the ripple, at the end of his swing he finds his sword has been transmutated into a rubber toy sword with a smiling star on the hilt.

 

   He throws the toy down, “mock me demon witch? I am Dorkaring! Son of the dragon! Hero of all of Goldonia! Greatest hero on all of Homnes! I will not be mocked!”

 

   He stomps through the hall, the other patrons pretending to be asleep despite the thunderous shouting.

 

   “Wake the hell up!” yells Dorkaring smashing his boot through a door.

 

  “Yes sir,” says one of the bar patrons with him earlier, pulling up his pants and jumping from the bed leaving a frightened prostitute behind.

 

   “Send message to the general at once!” says Dorkaring, “I want scouts everywhere looking for that woman from earlier, and any signs of that demon witch Xin, scour the forests!”

 

   “Xin is a myth,” says the messenger trying to write it all down.

 

  Dorkaring snatches up the smaller skinnier man, “I saw her…wit me own eyes not five minutes ago…that…woman from earlier was also a demon…so do what I tell ya.”

 

   “Yes sir, sorry sir,” says the messenger being let down.

 

  Dorkaring snorts, “I’ll teach those evil bitches to be evil in the lands of the great hero Dorkaring!”