Sweet Suffering

Sweet Suffering is an encounter in Blood of Heroes.
==Enemies==
* Royal Scout (3900 Gold, 480 XP, 300 Energy, 3 HP)
* Royal Cavalry Mage (4550 Gold, 500 XP, 350 Energy, 3 HP)
==Transcript==
===Introduction===
Rakshara said nothing as the two of them made their way across the countryside. Each time Hugh looked up at her innocent features and contemplative expression, he wondered whether he should speak. But no words came.
Courage was a new thing for the Titaran, an unfamiliar garment thrust on him by circumstances -- draped around his flabby frame because of unexpected powers and situations he never could have imagined. He hadn't done too badly at it, he mused, if he did say so himself. When the others were in trouble he did his part. But he knew full well that he wasn't like Rakshara. Bravery was part of the very fiber of her being, and as much as he shuddered each time she hurled herself into danger, he loved her for it. No enemy would ever make a coward of her. And yet Hugh had done that very thing. He'd taken her away from the battle, from the kind of glorious and terrible bloodshed she'd been ready for her entire life.
He'd done the right thing. For %name% and for them. Dying side by side, in the middle of the carnage, might be Rakshara's dream -- but it wasn't his, just as growing old and running a pub or pie shop probably wasn't hers. Not when eternity threatened to tear them asunder. The crystal kingdom waited for her, if there was any truth in what the orocs said. But for him...
No, he'd done what he'd had to. Yet he couldn't quite meet her gaze. Because if he did, he might see something that broke his heart. The knowledge that she'd always resent him for what he'd done.
"Hugh!"
He turned around, wondering if she'd read his thoughts. Until he followed her stare.
"Sodding hell!"
A patrol of royal mages... If the two of them kept going, they'd be spotted in moments. A towering orange oroc wasn't the most inconspicuous of individuals. Hugh opened his mouth, about to suggest that they find another route. But something in Rakshara's eyes stilled his tongue.
"Hugh..." she said.
"You want us to go through the blooming tossers, don't you, love?"
"Yes."
"Then let's bloody well do it."
***
Hecuba laughed. %name% was such a fool. He dabbled in dark magic, but he didn't have darkness in his blood. If he had, he would have stayed. Not for childish things like bravery and loyalty, but for the exquisite pain and bloodshed she'd known the battle would bring.
It hadn't disappointed her. How many had she killed? She didn't know. The tally had been lost, drowned in a sea of euphoria -- in the tidal waves of ecstasy that crashed up and down her body, tingling every part of her flesh like the caresses of a dozen lovers. So many faces, twisted in agony... It was a sumptuous banquet. And yet her brow creased in a frown. After such lovely days in hell, even this seemed a mere appetizer compared with the horrific banquets of the underworld.
No... The mortal world would never equal what she'd experienced there. And delightful as this was, she couldn't be satisfied.
"Die, witch!"
A soldier lunged at her. She thrust a glowing green hand towards him. He dropped his weapon and shrieked. Hecuba smiled, and cackled as he tried to catch his melting eyeballs in his palms. His wails serenaded her while she walked away.
It was a pleasant amusement, but just a morsel. She needed more...
===Conclusion===
The mages stared for a long moment. They could be forgiven for that, of course. The sight of two lone warriors charging a band of martial sorcerers was unexpected -- even if one of the pair was a mighty oroc. But if the idiots were that keen to die...
Spells flew. A volley of whooshing flames, crackling lightning, and tinkling ice shot towards the crazed attackers in a beautiful torrent of destructive energy. When it struck, the explosion was a thing of wonder. Half a dozen bright and vivid colors bloomed into being as the eclectic cataclysm raged. A great deal of magic to waste on two enemies, perhaps. But the mages were quite satisfied with their handiwork nonetheless.
They were rather less satisfied when two shapes emerged from the tempest, however. The fat man and the oroc were still running right at them. A faint glimmer hung in the air around their bodies.
"Oh..." one of the wizards said.
It would be their collective epitaph, for in the very next moment Hugh and Rakshara were upon them.
***
"Kill me," Hecuba said.
"What?" the soldier said. The young man's sword trembled in his hand.
"Strike me down, and tell your friends that you slew the evil witch."
"I... I..."
"Kill me!"
The soldier squealed and slashed. His sword carved a deep diagonal channel across her chest.
"Aaaaarrrrgggghhh!" The soldier looked down at the gaping rent in his own torso, a perfect match of witch's wound.
She rasped laughter. One final cruelty, just to say farewell. Now it was time for sweet, sweet hell...
Category:Blood of Heroes