Title-- The Demon-God of Jubagh (part five)
Rating and Warnings-- G; no real warnings, except for mild cursing.
Species and Characters-- Rai Gerring, traitor and black magician (human male); Brandon "Exile" Styhan, exiled paladin-warrior (human male); Lhafa Softstep, native not-a-holy-man (baghan woman).
Previously-- Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.



"Hellsparks, she moves weird," Brandon muttered to Rai in their own language as the two men trailed their baghan guide. "Like a cat with hooves." He eyed the woman, whose sinuous tail seemed to aid her sense of balance in picking a trail through the forest. Half the time, she trotted along thick, low-hanging boughs instead of the actual ground.

The magician sighed, hard-pressed to keep his loose robes from snagging on brambles and twigs. "Brandon, you could use a little more respect with her, you know. She is not weak, nor stupid."

Brandon snorted. "Don't go all soft on me, Rai. I don't care if she's the best warrior around, she's still nothing compared to either of us. So she's a guide, and we'll see if she keeps being useful. If not, we'll put her somewhere safe - I did promise to keep her alive - and move on."

"She said the women don't move from tribe to tribe. We'd have to find a tribe that would accept her and that looked like her." Rai shook his head, jerking his sleeve free of a bush's thorny grasp. "You're going to keep getting us in trouble with your promises, if you continue being so brash."

Patronizingly, the ex-paladin glanced at his companion. "Give me three good reasons to give her the respect you think she deserves."

"That... wasn't even what I was..." Rai sighed, carefully gathering his robes to his hips in order to step over a fallen tree. "Reason number one: she's smarter than you." He ignored Brandon's protest. "Reason number two: baghans have abilities that we don't even know about yet. Besides that, their senses are keener than ours, and they are, for the most part, faster and stronger--"

"She's built like a sapling!"

Another sigh. "She's faster, at the very least. She can run twice as fast as a man. And her hands, her hooves - she wouldn't need an immense about of strength to do damage with them." Rai danced over a line of rocks that afforded a tenuous path over a rushing stream. Brandon slogged through the current behind him. "Reason number three: we don't scare her."

"How the hells does that count as a reason?" The ex-paladin paused on the bank to squeeze the water from his leggings.

The magician eyed him, waiting as Lhafa forged ahead in the undergrowth. "You and I have not needed to be discreet on Jubagh, Brandon. Just today, we've drawn power up - visibly - half a dozen times. She's seen that. She knows your markings, and possibly mine, as well." He touched the red-inked scars on the back of one hand thoughtfully. "And she isn't afraid."

Brandon straightened, wiping his wet palms on his open vest. "That makes her stupid, not respectable."

"Allow me to remind you of reason number one: she's smarter than you. That rules out the possibility of her being too ignorant to be afraid." Rai began walking again, wincing as a sharp rock jabbed into the thin soles of his shoes. His companion's boots were infinitely more practical, albeit water-logged at the moment.

"You know what gets me, Rai?" Brandon clapped a heavy hand on the smaller man's thin shoulder, matching stride. "We're taking her at face value without even flinching. This could be one giant lie, designed to get us to screw up. Make an enemy. Or maybe just assassinate some hexer that she has a chip against."

"I didn't see you offering to concoct a truth serum, O Holy One," the magician pointed out dryly. "I don't think she's lying. If you're really worried, I could enchant her to never lie to us, but that requires blood and some bones. Not her bones, but bones nonetheless. And the blood would be hers. I doubt she'd like that."

Brandon groaned. "Why do the bloody dark arts always require flesh and bone? Can't you people just... use shadows or something?"

Rai snickered. "Yes, we can. But those are only effective against your Light. To manipulate the physical body, we need pieces of the physical body. Light is the only thing that can affect both flesh and spirit."

"You sound like my old teacher. Except for the demand for body parts." Brandon grinned darkly. "Although he did like putting heads on pikes..."

Lhafa's voice broke their brief moment of camaraderie. "You are moving very slowly. Is something wrong?" The baghan was crouched on a thick log, pale and slender against the rotting bark and the gloom of evening.

"See, that's creepy," the ex-paladin muttered before switching back to the baghan's language. "We're comin', we're comin'. I thought you said it was a walk, not a run."

"I said a walk, not a crawl," she retorted, slipping down to the other side of the log. She resumed pathfinding ahead of them as Brandon pulled himself onto the damp log with a grunt; the fallen behemoth was easily six feet in diameter. He turned to offer a hand up to Rai, who sighed and accepted the help gracelessly.

"Tired of the robes yet?" Brandon asked cheerfully.

"It'll take more than a few logs to convince me to dress like you," the magician muttered, thin lips twitching as he hid a grin. "When do you think we'll come upon more baghans? I thought they patrolled their territories carefully."

"Well, this is a path. A really bad one, but a path. Maybe paths are allowed." With a shrug, the ex-paladin hopped onto the other side, squelching loudly into two inches of mud. "Ugh."

Rai leaned down awkwardly, laid a hand on Brandon's shoulder, and used him to vault over the muddy patch and land lightly on solid ground. He returned a smirk for a scowl, then turned when he realized that said scowl was directed past him, not at him.

A dark-furred baghan man held their guide at spearpoint, while three other armed warriors stalked towards the two men.