Title-- The Demon-God of Jubagh (part eight)
Rating and Warnings-- G; no warnings.
Species and Characters-- Rai Gerring, defected black magician (human male); Brandon "Exile" Styhan, exiled paladin-warrior (human male); Lhafa Softstep, native guide (baghan woman).
Previously-- Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven.



She stopped as she saw the painted blade embedded into a tree near the path, casting a glance behind her at the outlanders. Nothing had seemed to change after they clashed; if anything, they seemed to get along better now. The robed man was quicker to smile, and the holy man was laughing more. It struck her as strange, that they would walk in step and banter so casually after nearly killing one another.

"What is it, Softstep?" the holy man called to her, meeting her gaze. It was easier to do in the light of afternoon; they had walked through the night. Surprisingly, the outlanders did not seem weary.

She leveled a long arm to point up at the blue-stained knife in the trunk. "We have reached the territory of the Rockhides. To go off the path beyond this point will be an act of war."

The outlanders exchanged glances, and both showed teeth in a smile. "That's just fine, Softstep," the holy man told her. "You wait here. We'll go get the tribe's hexer and find out what we need to know."

She shook her head. "They will smell their enemies on your clothes and skin. You have traveled with me, and you come from the territory of another one of their enemies. The entire tribe will take up arms against you."

"How many fighters do they have?" asked the robed man. He did not sound apprehensive, merely curious.

Pausing, she considered the question. "Perhaps... fifty, perhaps sixty. Too many to simply intimidate. You would have to kill half of them before they would consider stopping, and if they had wounded you, they still would not stop. If you kill them all, the rest of the tribe will starve, if they are not taken by neighboring enemies. Even if you kill most of them, their enemies will likely close in and seize their lands."

"So, what you're saying is... unless we get killed, we're gonna be responsible for the destruction of an entire tribe?" The holy man peered at her, his lips quirked in what might have been a smirk.

"...yes."

The robed man smiled sympathetically, resting a hand on the holy man's shoulder as though to urge him to silence. "This is why we chose an enemy of your tribe and of our hosts, Lhafa," he said quietly.

She narrowed her eyes and straightened, looking down at both of them. "They are enemies, but I do not wish their elders and children to die."

"Their elders killed your elders before they were old, and their kids will grow up to kill your kids." The holy man shrugged dismissively.

The robed man nodded. "Unless you can think of a way for us to speak peaceably with this tribe's hexer-- er, holy man, then I am afraid we must resort to violence. Better one tribe dead than Zeh Gurhai unleashed on your world, hmm?" He smiled kindly.

Her expression twisted, and she turned away from them, gaze lifting to the boundary marker. "I should expect so," she murmured, eyes half-lidding. "But I will not stay behind. I will take responsibility in this crime, as it is I who led y--"

"Hells no, Softstep," the holy man interrupted. "Unless you have fighting skills that we just don't know about, you're staying here, whether you like it or not. And if you can fight, well, you did a piss-poor job with the Proudflints earlier."

She turned to scowl down at him. "I was unarmed--"

"Yeah, well, you're still unarmed." The holy man gestured to her scant garb. "Vest and loincloth don't provide much protection in battle, either."

She glared, and he blinked at the fierceness of the look. "You cannot stop me from accompanying you," she snapped.

"Well... no, you're right. I can't." He jerked a thumb at the robed man. "But Rai can. Shadow-bonds. It'd be a pain to have to maintain it while we're fighting the entire bloody tribe, so why not just cooperate?"

The robed man smiled apologetically. "We don't want to put you in danger, Lhafa. Please understand."

"...fine," she sighed, hunkering down to be below the holy man's eye-level. "I do understand. And I do not wish to be a distraction while you are battling." She turned, moving to settle on a log that protruded halfway into the path. "Please, be careful. They are formidable warriors, and their holy man is powerful."

The outlanders both smiled at her. "We will, Lhafa," said the robed man. "We'll return to you soon. Try to stay hidden."

She nodded, coiling her tufted tail around her legs and linking her fingers together. "I will be discreet," she affirmed, "as much as I can."

"C'mon, Rai. Let's go find us a hexer." The holy man grinned widely, and the two resumed walking down the path.

After she could not hear their banter and their footsteps for ten minutes, Lhafa slipped into the woods and headed towards the heart of Rockhide territory.