Grimoires and Gunsmoke

Azeline's mind was a chaotic mess of vivid dreams, induced by that damned human. Even in her unconscious state, her senses were alive with intense and disturbing memories of when she was a shield maiden.

In the depths of her drug-induced dreams, Azeline's mind wandered back to her early years, to a time when she was a young girl growing up in the unforgiving lands of the north. A land that was fractured and plagued by wars.

Her village had been under the protection of a local lord, and unfortunately, said lord was both a traitor and a blasphemer. Thane Eirikr, the low ranking nobleman presiding over the land, had chosen to back the wrong deity during a period of heavenly upheaval known as the Divine Turbulence. This era was marked by intense infighting among the various gods, each vying for the souls and the devotion of the mortal realm. Thane Eirikr's allegiance to a now fallen goddess had dire consequences for him and the people of his lands.

The once peaceful and cozy community that Azeline had called home, had been razed to the ground. While the small village burned, and its men slaughtered. The survivors, including Azeline, were turned into thralls, forced to serve the new rulers and new gods.

However, amidst this darkness, there was presented with a sliver of hope, a chance at redemption. Azeline was given the opportunity to forsake the name of the fallen goddess, forsake her family and accept a childhood devoid of any innocence or joy. To pledge her allegiance to Jarl Hrothgar, her conqueror and become a shieldmaiden.

This transition for Azeline was far from easy or dignified. The path from thrall to shieldmaiden under the Jarl was laden with relentless challenges and trials that spanned years. It was a journey that tested not only her physical strength but also her mental and emotional resilience.

Every day, Azeline and the other trainees were pushed to their limit, undergoing brutal and unforgiving training. They were taught how to wield swords, axes, spears and shields, how to fight individually and as a unit. But beyond the physical hardships, there was an emotional toll that weighed heavily on Azeline.

Being a former thrall, she was often subjected to the disdain from those who saw her as nothing more than a conquered savage and she was only greeted with mockery and scorn from some of her peers. The emotional scars ran deep, as Azeline was forced to navigate a world where her worth was constantly questioned and her presence often unwelcome. Whispered insults and disdainful looks were a common occurrence, especially when the trainers and her betters would occasionally subject her to abuses and… humiliations that slowly chipped at her will, but for Azeline, the price of failure was far steeper.

However, the degradation and exploitation as a thrall that some of the warriors and cadre was a price Azeline was willing to pay. Being viewed as mere property and having her betters force themselves upon her paled in comparison to the threat of failure. In the north, a failed shield maiden, especially one with the background of a thrall, could be claimed by any Huscarl or Dreng as their property, relegated to a life of servitude and treated as breeding stock.

The fear of returning to a life devoid of agency and avoiding the life of being a literal sex slave was a potent motivator for Azeline. She was determined not to succumb to the pressure, unlike many of her peers who had slowly dropped out one by one, unable to bear the physical and emotional burden.

For Azeline however, the idea of living a life on her back and opening her legs for some knuckle dragging idiot was a far worse fate than a few years of pain and suffering. And if she was being honest with herself, Azeline couldn’t quite understand how anyone could give up, considering how high the stakes were. By the time they had passed all their trials and completed their training, there were only a dozen or so girls left, including Azeline. She stood tall and proud, no longer a thrall but a free woman, a shield maiden recognized for her skill, strength and resilience.

And among those who stood next to Azeline, was Ulina, another girl from her village she had grown up with. The two’s bond was forged in the fires of their village, a kinship that had endured the wicked enthrallment of their people, and the grueling years of the shield maiden trials.

Ulina, much like Azeline, had also refused to succumb to the fate that their captors had intended for them. Even during the darkest of times, the two became beacon of hope for each other and reminded each other that there were worst fates awaiting them should they fail.

WIth the ceremony for their ascendance in full swing, Azeline stepped forward to claim her sword and shield, symbols of her new status and freedom. A deep sense of accomplishment and pride swelled inside of her as she glanced at Ulina, who shared the same triumphant look.

But as Azeline reached out to take her sword, she felt herself starting to stir awake. The vivid dreams of her past were slowly fading, replaced by an odd sensation on her chest. It felt as if two tiny feet were jumping up and down on top of her.

As her awareness returned, Azeline's eyes fluttered open to spot a small scowling face with flames for hair and two glowing violet orbs for eyes.

“I think this one’s broken!” The small being said, stomping on Azeline’s chest once more before turning away. “We should throw it away!”

Azeline's eyes went wide in horror as she stared at the small figure on her chest. A fairy, a real heaven’s damned fairy was perched right there on top of her chest, seemingly inspecting her with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The creature’s fiery hair and glowing violet eyes appeared almost ethereal yet undeniably real as it stood there, pronouncing judgment on her.

The sudden appearance of such a mystical and dangerous being was as horrifying as it was surreal. Especially when Azeline's mind was still clouded from whatever concoction those strange humans had given her.

“Yana, leave the Elf alone.” A familiar and derisive voice leaked out beside her, albeit in a language she couldn’t comprehend.

"You can't tell what the great Yanaiyániuoa's to do!" The fairy exclaimed, her tiny voice filled with indignation. "Apostles aren't supposed to order their goddesses around!"

Still lying ramrod straight, Azeline remained as still as possible while her body tensed and her mind raced. The presence of such a whimsical and formidable being, filled her with a sense of dread. Fairies were often regarded as capricious and powerful creatures, never to be engaged with, let alone trifled with.

The fairy stood defiantly with and authoritative as the being stared down what Azeline assumed was the owner of the voice. However, the man once again spoke up, but this time with a slightly more assertive tone, "Yana, if you don’t leave her alone, I'm taking away the beef jerky."

A look of both shock and offense spread across the fairy’s face as she took a step back and placed a hand on her chest. A gasp of horror left the malicious creature's mouth as if she had been mortally wounded, "f-fine! Fine be that way!” She yelled back, punching both hands down towards her side. “Maybe you should go find another goddess then! Maybe go worship that stupid blood god or whatever!" She bellowed with a voice tinged with indignation.

With a huff, the fairy kicked off Azeline's chest and flew away.

Still in a state of shock from the bizarre encounter, Azeline finally realized she had been holding her breath. Sucking in a huge gulp of air, the blonde woman then began to heave as her face turned a deep shade of red while she attempted to regain her composure.

Knowing better than to think of the being gone, Azeline quickly sobered up and sat up, frantically scanning the surroundings in search of the mythical creature. For a moment, Azeline thought herself safe when she couldn’t spot a sign of that fiery head, but she suddenly froze. There, sitting atop a strange green mass of metal, were a pair of glowing violet eyes, glaring daggers at her with an intensity that could only be described as malicious intent. Azeline's heart skipped a beat as she locked eyes with the tiny, nefarious creature and froze.

The fairy was almost camouflaged by the setting sun peeping through the swaying leaves, casting a warm, golden hue over the entire area. The serene atmosphere contrasted sharply with the earlier tension as the soft chirps of birds echoed in the background, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves.

Azeline couldn’t help but stare mouth agape as this… Yanaiyániuoa threw one leg over the other and looked downwards in annoyance, but a heavy sigh next to her, snapped her out of her reverie. Flinching away, Azeline quickly snapped her head toward the sound and took in the sight of that strange ‘healer’ named…. Elijah or something.

A look of exhaustion and annoyance colored the human's face as he walked towards her rolling his eyes. The man acted as if dealing with such a powerful being like a fairy was a common, albeit tiresome, occurrence.

"Don't worry about the fairy; she's just being moody because I made a joke the other day," Elijah said, handing a strange bag to Azeline that had a spoon sticking out of her.

A distinct 'hmph' sound came from the direction of the fairy as she snapped her head to the side in a huff. It was clear that the being was still miffed about this… joke. But despite the menacing demeanor that was standard amongst the Fae, it was evident that this one was more petulant than threatening.

“Uh…. I uh… thank you…?” Azeline mumbled in uncertainty as she accepted the bag from the supposed healer.

Raising an eyebrow, Azeline examined the contents of the bag as the aroma of cooked meat and herbs wafted to her nose. She cautiously peered inside and found a steaming hot dish that she couldn't recognize. The food looked nothing like the fare she was accustomed to in her own world. It was a mix of colors and textures that were both intriguing and foreign to her.

Elijah, noticing her hesitation, offered an encouraging smile. "It's beef stew," he explained. "It's good, I promise. We figured you might be hungry after…” He started rotating his hand in a beckoning fashion as he tried to think of the words in her language. “After the, uuh… the fuckin’... the everything."

Azeline's eyes flickered between the bag of stew and Elijah while her stomach growled audibly. However, she couldn't quite shake the wariness that clung to her like a second skin. The food's foreign appearance and overpowering tang of spices made her hesitant. Back in the north, anything unfamiliar often harbled hidden dangers or tricks, especially when offered by strangers, or worse, the Fae.

However, the rich aroma emanating from the bag made it nearly undeniable and slowly, Azeline brought a spoonful of this… ‘stew’ to her face and sniffed cautiously. A strange look then flashed across Azeline’s face as she took in the unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant blend of herbs and spices.

There was something not quite right about the mix of earthy and savory scents that tickled her senses.

It was… off-putting.

With her stomach rumbling a second time, urging her to set aside her suspicions, she finally took a cautious bite. The flavors were a complex melody, rich and hearty, but something in the back of her mind nagged at her, suggesting this was not typical fare.

“Take a bite, it won't hurt you.” Elijah said, trying to reassure her. “You need food if you want to heal.”

"I bet she's gonna get the shits," Bennett elbowed Lister in the side with a twinkle in his eye.

Lister’s grin, however, spread wide across his face as he looked back at the rest of the team. "My money's on constipation. That stew's a gut bomb in disguise."

It didn’t take long for the team to start running a tally on Azeline’s fate, but Elijah shot the men an angry glare which seemed to shut them up.

Azeline on the other hand, couldn’t understand a word but she clearly sensed that strange people weren’t being malicious and just bantering. Ignoring them, the woman wrinkled her nose and in a mix of curiosity and determination, she took a leap of faith and bit down on the spoonful of stew.

To her surprise, pure delight spread across her face as the burst of flavors danced across her tongue. The rich, hearty stew, with its tender chunks of beef and array of vegetables, was unlike anything she had ever tasted and the spices, though initially suspicious,created a satisfying dish. Sure she had much better food before, but when one was out in the middle of nowhere, sustaining themselves on dried meat held together by animal fat, then you’d think this dish was made for kings.

Soon, Azeline found herself eagerly shoveling spoonful after spoonful into her mouth, the initial hesitation forgotten, while Elijah turned back to her and smiled. ”See? Not bad, right?" he said while watching her virtually inhale her new found prize.

With the apprehension gone, Azeline couldn’t help but nod enthusiastically.

Elijah huffed in amusement as he crouched down next to her and started rifling through one of the backs next to her. "Eat as much as you can. You need the energy, especially if you're healing," he said, watching as Azeline continued to eat greedily before pulling out another Meal Ready to Eat (MRE).

Opening the bag, Elijah started to prep the heating elements while hesitantly broached a more serious subject. "You know… while we were out there in the forest, we came across a bunch of bodies not too far from where we found you... " he said, creasing his brow a little.

The words caused Azeline to pause mid-bite. Her spoon hovering in the air as she slowly turned her head towards the healer and stared at him.

"Were they...uhhh, your friends?" Elijah asked delicately, trying to gauge her reaction.

Azeline's grip on the spoon tightened slightly as anger crossed her features. She looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts before responding. "It’s uh… complicated," she said with a voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

“Ahh.” Elijah nodded in understanding after putting two and two together. “I get it. I guess no matter where you are, people can be difficult.” He continued, watching the tension in her hand slightly relax.

"Especially with all these damned patrols and forts sitting around. Must be difficult to navigate through all that, only to have some ‘friends’ turn on you." Elijah’s face remained light hearted and genuine, but he kept a close eye on Azeline’s body language as he subtly guided the conversation. “It’s also been pretty bad for business.”

Still processing the betrayal she had faced, Azeline found herself nodding in agreement. "Ya… Ever since those Empire goons started fucking around further south of here, patrols have been becoming more intense.” She sighed as Elijah handed her a new bag of food. “Whatever they did pissed off the local wildlife and monsters, making everyone’s lives much more difficult.”

Elijah scooted in closer with a much more interested and engaged look. "Sounds like things are really messed up around here. And then, to top it off, those losers probably thought they could pull one over on you and get rid of you while it was convenient, huh?" He continued, speaking animatedly with his hands.

The man had hit the nail on the head as Azeline's eyes flashed with fury. "Exactly!" She growled. "It's all some stupid fucking power struggle between Kjadnar's goons! I’m considered an ‘obsticale’ so that fat chubby fuck thought to shove a spear in my back and blame the gods damned grove maws!" Her hands clenched into fists, reflecting the rage boiling inside her.

Nodding sympathetically, Elijah maintains eye contact with the woman in order to show his genuine interest. "Man, that's fucking rough... But hey, you survived, right?” He said, pulling out a cookie from the MRE bag. “Hey, you know what? Maybe we can help each other get past those patrols and you can show those fucks what’s what. What do ya say?" he offered, trying to sound as helpful as possible without overstepping.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, the ODA team watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and exhaustion. Bennett, leaning against the vehicle with his arms crossed, shook his head slightly and muttered, "God, he's such a manipulative piece of shit."

Unable to disagree with the sentiment, Coleman stood there next to Bennett with a similar posture, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, but… he IS useful, and he’s OUR manipulative piece of shit." The team leader said, glancing over at the fairy. "The man has a way with words that gets people to open up. Useful skill to have in our line of work.”

As the conversation continued, Azeline’s hands clenched into fists as she muttered under her breath, "Those filthy backstabbing fucks. Fucking Einar, you motherless son of a fat fuck. I'll snap your gods damned spine!"

Elijah glanced back at his team with a look of triumph on his face before turning back to the Elf.

“Ya fuck that guy,” The medic said passionately as he adjusted himself. “People who fuck over others just to get a little further ahead in the rat race can eat shit.” He continued before looking her dead in the eye. “I get it though, But you know, there’s only one thing you can do to make yourself feel whole again.”

Azeline stared at Elijah with a mix of suspicion and exasperation. "You're not gonna tell me to forgive them so my soul isn’t consumed by the hells, or some other mystic bullshit are you?"

A sinister smile spread across Elijah’s face as he leaned in closer. "No," he said, turning around and grabbing something behind him and putting it in Azeline’s lap. "You fucking kill them. Slowly."

Shifting her eye’s down to her lap, Azeline's eyes fell upon her old sword. The familiar weight and cold touch of the metal felt reassuring against her fingers as a nostalgic sense of empowerment washed over her as she lightly tapped the blade with her fingertip.

"Slowly, huh?” she responded with her voice taking on a dark, contemplative tone. “That sounds rather... enlightening," Her sword was always a symbol of her past. A symbol of her freedom.

Now however, the weapon now seemed to hold a new promise – that of vengeance.