Thank you for the tag @softeasun! It's late here in the EST, but I'll go ahead and tag @a-gay-bloodmage, @queenofangrymoths, @woundedsoul12, and @themontess! Show me what you're working on!
I'm making progress again on my next Zukal Tabris longfic, tentatively titled "A Higher Calling" (though I am also starting to work on a steamy one-shot for her and Nathaniel too). I already shared another portion of this chapter on The Hanged Man Discord Server. Please enjoy a little section with a "mystery" character, though if you know any of Zukal's history, I'm sure you can guess who it is.
The scene before him was a massacre. Dozens of dead darkspawn littered the shores of the small creekbed. The further upstream the man walked, the more densely packed the shore was with putrid darkspawn bodies. This was exactly where he needed to be, he was sure of it, but the age of the battlefield made worry wriggle in his guts.
Working through a quick calculation in his head, he measured the amount of time he knew his quarry had been on the run, deducting from it the apparent age of the campsite and the aftermath of this bloodied fight. The constant storms had since washed away any blood, or trace he could find of her. Despite that, the math added up: this fight clearly happened shortly after her camp was abandoned.
Realization settling in, he hurried, making his way past piles of casualties, searching for what he feared would be the warden commander's final stand. Coming to an epicenter of the battle, he looked into the creek’s shallow waters, almost certain he would find a bloated corpse in warden’s blues.
But there was no warden body among the many dead darkspawn. The only proof that anyone had been here was the obvious signs of gutting upon the darkspawn at his feet, and the blackened scorch marks of fire, perhaps from a mage. It didn’t make sense, though. He knew without a doubt the warden commander would be traveling alone. The battle had clearly ended here. The small clearing in the mass of bodies made it obvious that someone had been in the creek keeping the darkspawn at bay. He knelt on the rocky shore, scanning the fast-flowing waters, looking for anything that would give him a sign that she had been here.
If not for his keen archer’s eyes, he would have never noticed the glimmer of light reflected in the rocky creekbed. He reached into the water and pulled up a handful of mud and rocks. Picking through the debris, he found what had caught his eye: a silver chain necklace threaded through the delicate golden hoop of a diamond ring. It was plain enough it could belong to anyone, but his heart sunk into his toes at the thought it could be hers.
Frantically, he began to sift through the darkspawn bodies, uncaring of the ichor and decay that sprayed from their bloated, wet flesh. As one of the bodies slumped over, a familiar sight caught his eye. Stuck into the ribs of the beast was a dagger, the familiar red hilt bright against blackened skin. He pulled the dagger from the darkspawn, letting it fall back into the heap of bodies at his feet. It was unmistakable, a blade he’d watched her wield time and time again. This very blade had once been the property of Adaia Tabris, and it was proof that Zukal Tabris had once been in this very place.
