DWC August 2022 Day 6: Zealous
Deagra caught on early, it helped that dwarves didn't often frequent areas this far south, stereotypes were accurate at times, and the humid jungles and sea air didn't agree with many of her peoples. Perhaps her choice to settle in the mountain clearing near Booty Bay had something to do with how different it was to Shadowforge, without being uncomfortably cold, of course.
Then again, stepping out onto a balcony to take in a few of vibrant waves beating on a pristine beach while drinking a cold lime cocktail was a fairly nice perk, a little gift from her to her for escaping her society before it became popular, she mused.
But yes, the dark iron trailing knew how to move without being noticed, knew how to dress without drawing attention, knew how to blend in a crowd. But she grew up leaning how to watch for assassins, he moved like them.
She kept calm, from all the unsavory lessons that came from her upbringing, she was grateful for this. She made her rounds to the shops, bargained, talked to her business associates, all the while subtly forming the magics she'd learned, drawing just a bit of energy from those she passed in the busy docks, channeling it all into her focus.
Once she left, 100 feet or so up the road out of town, she sprung her trap, a quick incantation, her would-be assassin jumped back in surprise as a fiery glyph appeared just behind him, a handsome, devilish figure emerging through the ground, Rhyalin must have been feeling particularly male today, Deagra mused, as her Sayaad emerged, working their magic quickly, the dwarf quickly lost the tension in his muscles, caught in a particularly alluring illusion.
"Mmm... he's ripe, will you be letting us have a little fun today, mistress?" They spoke in a rather singsong voice, a bit interesting as it was in their native infernal language.
Hers was more curt, her pacts may have been bound to her permanently in her childhood, the sacrifices long since made on her behalf, sins that were mercifully attributed to her parents, she'd discovered.
Putting on a seductive tone to her voice, she mewled to the captive assassin. "Hey there... what's a lovely lil' thing like you doin out 'ere?"
A cocky response. "To kill a traitor. If I come back with her head, the sons of Ragnaros will give me more power."
She puts a hand on his shoulder, tracing a finger down the muscles of his right arm, "Ohh, they sound important, who are they, how do they know about this traitor?"
"I used to work for the Stonehelms, saw how their child betrayed them, knew how she murdered her own mother after the massacre of the Senate. They were loyal to the Fire Lord, they would have been able to lead us through the death of the emporer, but she... she took it all!" He looked over at her and gave her a wink, "We'll make all those who abandoned our lord to treat with the damned Bronzebeards pay, and our slumbering lord will reward us when we being him upon the world again!"
She could feel his muscles flex, the magics were working, his look more amorous and obsessive.
A zealot. Given the choice of freedom, he chose to remain bound. to kill, to take slaves, to continue the cycle of suffering.
"Rhylian?" She coolly walked up the road toward as she spoke.
"Yes Mistress?" They responded, a hope of satisfaction in their voice.
"Have you fun. Just with this one."
She heard the sound of a whip crack, and she heard his scream.
No guilt for this one. He made his choice.
@daily-writing-challenge
