Wedding Reception in Tortage

The Wedding Reception

The stink of the seashore loomed heavily in the humid night air as Neverlin took another long swig from the bottle of blackberry wine. Smacking his lips, he slunk against the side of an abandoned warehouse. He strained to keep his eyes open as the soporific effects of the sweet liquor dulled his senses.  Normally, he did not condone drinking to excess, being a firm believer in keeping one’s facilities optimal.

But it had been a particularly tough week and the life he led now seemed a grim caricature of the one he envisioned.  So he sighed and indulged himself with another swallow.

Soon enough, Neverlin heard the excited preaching of the High Priest echoing down the alley.  He rolled his eyes and straightened; it was never enough for Satet-Ka to simply make his way discreetly anywhere.  No, surely by now most of Tortage would know of their meeting. He might as well ask the gate crier to include the event in the evening news. He shook his mane of blond hair and slunk against the wall despondently, and sipped from the bottle again.

Down the trash-ridden alley, Satet-Ka stopped to proselytize to a pair of older looking whores.  They simpered and tossed their hair as he served them with a well-rehearsed harangue. Predictably, they grew bored and wandered off as the prophet was in mid sentence.  For a moment, Neverlin almost felt sorry for him.  There was a time when hundreds of loyal followers sat about the High Priest in rapt attention, mesmerized by his every word.  But since his ignominious expulsion from Xu’Set, he failed even to keep the attention of a pair of paid harlots.

How great the mighty can fall. 

Appearing unmoved by their discourtesy, the Prophet turned back down the narrow path between the warehouses and headed towards Neverlin.  Moonlight cut through the darkness, reflecting off the Prophet’s tonsure and cleanly shaven face.  As usual, he wore a simple, light-blue robe; the same Mandisa had presented him with nearly a year ago.  Seeing him in the robe flooded Neverlin with memories of the fiery Priestess.

He gripped the bottle tightly and drank again, flushing the thoughts of her from his mind.

Satet-Ka’s penetrating eyes fixed on the Necromancer and he extended his arms wide in an ebullient greeting “Lord Neverlin, it is good to see you. What an honor to meet you in Tortage.  The master truly works in marvelous syncopation does he not?”

Neverlin nodded once, forcing a smile as he sipped from the bottle. “Ah, Good day to you High Priest” he replied in a cheery tone.  Satet-Ka stared at him a moment, obviously trying to gage Neverlin’s mood, then an uncharacteristic impish grin crept across his lips as he called out over his shoulder casually. “General Terralia ensure the noble is protected from any disturbances while he shares with us why he has come all this way”” A familiar voice shouted back from the rough tops.  “For the last time, stop calling me general!” said Terralia, a little tetchily.  Neverlin looked up, straining to spot the assassin in the darkness.  He reminded himself he’d sooner find a virgin at the Serpent’s Head Inn than spot the assassin, so turned his attention back to the Priest.

“So…” Neverlin began.  “Where were you last night?” Satet-Ka looked down, ringing his robe in irritation to the curt inquiry, but replied evenly. “I secured your proxy bride my Lord, a lovely girl named Xochitlli, she will make you a fine first wife of excellent stock and very faithful”” Neverlin nodded his head a little “Oh.  Oh that’s funny, I could have sworn I asked for you to meet me at the Pyramid of Ancients at an hour to dusk.”

Satet-Ka folded his arms across his chest, and shot back defensevily “I came to Tesso with your bride.  However the ‘Baron’ saw fit to have me ambushed by several assassin rangers.”  Neverlin nodded again, as if satisfied with the answer and pursed his lips in concern. “Assassin-Rangers? My, that sounds quite dreadful.  But you escaped?”

Satet-ka cocked his head to the side and stared more directly into his old friends eyes. “Lord Neverlin I recall once you begged to follow me. Now you question my desire to attend your wedding?  Have I ever failed to hearken to your call old friend?  It was I that wrote you and insisted I be there and perform the ceremony.  I spent a week on that riverbank attempting to escape their dogs without an army.  I do believe I sent the general to acquire funding from you to alleviate the financial strain on the temple funds.””

Neverlin raised the bottle to his lips. “Quite the tale. Tell me though, for I am intrigued.  Were there assassins and rangers ambushing you? Or was it some deadly assassin/ranger hybrid?”  Neverlin asked with feigned sincerity.  Satet-Ka’s eyes went wide and his face flush with anger.

“Do not mock me wizard.” 

“Oh, all right then.”  Neverlin took a long sip and let out a content sigh. “Mmm, that’s good wine….”

With quickness almost deceptive, Neverlin reared the bottle back over his head and struck Satet-ka in the center of his baldhead producing a sickening crack.  The High Priest crumpled in a heap at the Necromancer’s feet.  Neverlin’s eyes flared with rage as he stomped his friend’s head into the mud and shouted imprecations.

“Did that hurt?!”

STOMP!

“That hurt?!”

CRACK!

“No?!”

WHAP!

 “It doesn’t feel good does it?!”

Satet-Ka scrambled to his knees, feebly trying to fend off the attack with one hand as the other cradled his bleeding skull.  Neverlin stalked around his prostrate prey, kicking him hard and feeling the satisfying pop of a rib under his boot.

“I’m getting real tired of you failing me.”

Satet-ka struggled to look up, his face caked in brown bloody muck and pleaded pathetically “I have failed you, and my life is yours to take.” Neverlin ignored the priest, placing the bottle on the ground lightly and reaching for his long ebony staff leaning against the wall.

“You think you can make a fool out of me?” Neverlin asked as he drove the butt end of the staff into the Priest’s kidney.  Satet-Ka arched his back and howled in agony clutching his side. “Do you know how long I planned this Satet-Ka? Do you remotely fathom the months it takes to perfect a shadow walk spell?” With each word Neverlin’s temper flared hotter, his fingers clamping around the staff until his knuckles turned white.  He paced back and forth as his friend whimpered in the mud.

“Aurelius led Kemena right to the dimensional rift like a fool to gold, just as I planned.” He raised the staff high above his head and hit the Priest across the back with as much strength as he could muster.  Satet-Ka only groaned, too exhausted to shout.  Neverlin panted, his brow dripping with sweat, relishing this feral state. “I do all the heavy lifting Satet-Ka! All you had to do was show up on time.”

“THAT’S ALL!” Neverlin shouted as he brought the staff down across the man’s back again emphatically.

Neverlin placed his palm on his own chest, and drew a deep breath before continuing in a more civilized tone. “It must have been grand, seeing the whole wedding party arranged perfectly upon the steps of the Pyramid.” He swept his hand out dramatically. “All my closest friends, all the very best people in Stygia, all those I would call family. Everyone present to witness my most joyous union to a perfect woman. But hmmm…” He placed a finger to his lip and looked skyward, as if pondering, then roared:

“NO FUCKING PRIEST!” 

Neverlin seethed as he recalled the humiliating scene “I can still hear that bitch Arwyne laughing her smug little ass off from the bottom of the pyramid steps. You made a fool out of me Satet-Ka, and embarrassed me in front of the Liche Lord.”

“The Liche Lord Satet!” He repeated with menace.

The High Priest howled in pain, and desperately stretched his hand out to touch the Necromancer’s ankle.  “Please, the Invictans…I couldn’t” Neverlin looked down at the Priest with nothing but scorn, dipping the skull carved end of his staff under The Priest’s chin. Neverlin smiled thinly as Satet-Ka was forced to look up at him. “That’s a nice shiny head you have there, tell me, you have time to shine up your head but you couldn’t make it to my ceremony?”  The high Priest held his gaze, his breath coming in labored gasps. “Please, forgive me” he asked solemnly.   Neverlin spun away suddenly, tossing the staff aside and retrieved the bottle of wine.

Neverlin tilted his head back as he placed the bottle to his lips, but in the instant he exposed his neck cold steel pressed against his throat. “Have you gone mad?” Terralia hissed.  Neverlin sighed, rolling his eyes and raised his hands in mock surrender. He wasn’t too worried; he’d be dead if she really wanted it that way.  Inwardly, Neverlin suspected Terralia enjoyed watching the affair. “Stop this nonsense and drop that bottle immediately, I won’t hesitate to cut your throat out.” The assassin threatened in his ear.

“Fine”

Neverlin said in a huff, and chucked the bottle at Satet-ka hitting him square in the back. The blow sent the Priest back into the mud as he struggled to stand. Terralia pressed the razor sharp daggers to his neck drawing a thin line of blood, but the Prophet admonished  “Lady Terralia, let the Noble go.  My failure was inexcusable and I am his humble servant.”

Terralia immediately released the Necromancer, lifting the blades away and returning them to the leather sheathes at her wrists in a single fluid motion.  He touched his fingers to his throat and glanced at the blood for a moment. Retrieving a black silk cloth from his pocket, he tossed it to the ground next to the Priest. “Clean yourself up” he ordered in a taut voice.

“We have a lot of work to do.”

(Posted over objections of my dear friend Satet-Ka. We disagree as the raw amount of violence that transpired. Please interpret the above as one person's dramatization based on real rp events. Thanks for reading!)