They should protest.

Doriyah paused, crouched over a hunk of rubble, sweat dripping into his eyes.

He was onto something. Hells, it might actually work; they did have a case of clear-cut sexism. The men move the rubble, and the women do, well, everything else. Why couldn’t he and Pavel do everything? Why did they have to swelter under the sun? It just wasn’t fair.

Grunting, legs burning, he forced himself up, waddled around, and flung the rubble towards the pile behind him. It landed with a satisfying crunch, a few smaller rocks tumbling down. Doriyah nodded, glancing over to watch Pavel throw his own onto the pile; his friend was covered in sweat, same as him, but at least Doriyah didn’t have to worry about his shirt sticking to him.

“Got it figured out.” Doriyah said, dusting off his hands.

Pavel groaned, head rolling back.

“Can you stop?” He asked. “I’m so tired of listening to you, it’s been all day.”

“Most of the day.”

“All day.”

“Well, this one is the best one, trust me.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Doriyah huffed, rested his hands on his hips, and flexed his bare chest at Pavel, pecs gleaming in the sunlight. Pavel rolled his eyes, which meant that, with his dominance asserted, Doriyah could speak his mind.

“See,” He began. “Jo fucked up. She made us do all the heavy lifting, and because we’re men, that means she’s sexist. So –”

“Oh, shut the hell up.” Pavel waved him off, turning back towards rubble strewn at their feet. “I’m not hearing this. Let’s just get this thing done quick, alright?”

There wasn’t a way in the Nine Hells they’d be done quick, but Doriyah wasn’t about to say that.

It was a good spot though. The square between the two ruined houses must have been some kind of eating or meeting area, though with all the rubble scattered about, it was anyone’s guess. The building between them, however, made it the perfect ambush spot. Situated some feet back, the gaps on either side were the perfect spot to pile the rocks and rubble into. Given how much littered the square, by the time they were done, the only entrance and exit would be the opening at the front.

But that was still a long way out. And in the meantime…

“You know what?” Doriyah asked, strutting over to another piece of rubble.

“Oh gods…” Pavel grunted, hauling up his own.

“I think we should just fuck off and take our chances. Serena handled those two easy. You and I,” Doriyah waved a hand as Pavel waddled past. “could take the whole lot of them!”

“That’s not the point.” Pavel grunted, throwing his rock before turning around. “We’re trying to make amends. It’s not right if we just leave.”

“Tell you what, what was right was us leaving the moment we got here.”

“Sure, but from what Nura said, I doubt it’d be easy.”

“Yeah, uhm…has anyone checked that?” Doriyah threw his rock onto the pile. “She keeps saying we’d never survive but we’ve only seen, what, three of them, and one of them died. How do we know she’s not fucking with us?”

Pavel straightened up, stretching his back as he gave Doriyah a look.

“Why would she do that? She wants us out.”

“I don’t know. But I do know that she’s getting us to do the work for her.”

“You agreed to this though.”

“I didn’t agree to shit, no one asked me.”

“Well, maybe because you’re coarse, demean everyone constantly, and generally just don’t participate in any conversation without being a massive jerk.”

Doriyah glared at Pavel, who met him in turn with a cocked brow. All of that was true, of course, but he’d be damned if he’d ever admitted that. Besides, why should he participate in any of this; it wasn’t like he wanted to be here, working for a dickhead that had him by the balls. The best thing for him to do was to stay off to the side and make everyone hate him, it would work out better that way. No attachments, no strings, no worries when everything went south. Easy.

“Whatever. Let’s just get this shit done before Jo gets here.” Doriyah said. “Rather get done and then eat.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Although honestly…I don’t think that’ll be the case.”

“Well yeah. I was –”

Something glinted, straight into his eye.

“The fuck?” Doriyah muttered, turning his head.

Further out, within the gaping wound that marked the city’s walls, something was glinting in just the right way to catch his eye. It kept shifting so that the light continually hit his face, painful enough that Doriyah had to squint through an outstretched hand to see what in the Hells was doing it.

The flashing, however, stopped; barely visible through the spots in his vision, a skinny cloaked figure, dressed entirely in black, vanished around the wall. He didn’t need to see its face to know who it was.

“What’s up?” Pavel asked as Doriyah swore.

“Nothing.” Doriyah turned back. “Just…pissed.”

“What about now?”

“Shut the fuck up and lift.” Doriyah spat, turning away.

-

It wasn’t until the sun had shifted past its zenith did Jo materialize before them like a messiah, standing atop one of the rubble piles, bundles of food clutched in each hand. She tossed them as Doriyah and Pavel turned towards her, before leaping off and landing on one of the clearer spots in the square, the quantity of which growing by the hour.

“Thanks Jo.” Pavel said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Oh no,” Doriyah said, weighing the bundle. “not yet, this is way too light. What am I, five? I need nourishment Jo.”

“Need you two to stop screwing around, but that didn’t happen.” Jo shrugged. “Get used to it. Saw the deer last night anyways, blame Cruck’aa.”

“I always do.”

“I know.”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Waving her off, Doriyah retreated to the side, towards one of the walls that offered a meager slice of shade to sit under. Pavel and Jo followed him as he plopped down, Pavel finding a tiny rock to squat on while Jo leaned against the wall. She eyed the pair as they settled in but didn’t pull out anything of her own to eat. Not that Doriyah cared. He probably had barely enough for himself as it was.

A quick tear of his bundle confirmed what he feared; a few chunks of cold deer, a handful of wild leeks, and an expertly sliced apple that he just knew Serena had chopped for him. Exactly as if he were five.

Doriyah plucked an apple from the sorry pile and pointed at Jo with it.

“I work,” he said. “for hours on end, only to be fed like a child. A child. I am a grown man.”

“Act like one then.” Jo said.

“Oh, I most certainly do! But I doubt you’ve ever been with one to even know what they’re like!”

The grimace that twisted her face spoke more than words could have; Doriyah tore his attention back towards Pavel and jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Give me your apples.” He demanded.

“What? Screw off.” Pavel scooted away, huddling over his food. “I’m hungry too!”

“But I’m bigger, I need the protein.”

“Then go hunt something.” Pavel replied, smirking.

“Then go hunt something!” Doriyah spat back, raising his voice until it could break glass. Confident he’d won, he began to tear into his meager meal, meat gone in a few bites. Pavel did the same, and for a long moment, the only sound remained the wind, blowing through the square as though it could carry the conversation. Cooling in the shade, the smell of dust around him, Doriyah also felt a sense of peace, despite the lifelessness of the town.

“You think this’ll work?”

Doriyah glanced over, leek halfway to his mouth; though Pavel stared up at Jo, she didn’t meet his gaze, her own oddly distant as she stared at the building across from them.

“Hope so.” Was all she said.

“That doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence, you know.”

“And? What should I say?” She glanced down. “I’m confident? Excited? Ready? Should have left the moment we ran into these people and look where we are.”

“We’re doing the right thing, Jo.”

“For what? Them or ourselves?”

Pavel opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. After a moment of staring, he looked back down at his paltry meal, a new weight seemingly pressed onto his shoulders.

A part of Doriyah, buried deep down somewhere he’d thought he’d forgotten, bristled at the sight. Wasn’t really fair of her to do him like that. But he shook his head and shoved that bleeding heart back down where it belonged. He was on a mission, serving a purpose; best to set himself apart, growing attached would only make everything harder in the end.

His eyes drifted to his half-eaten leek, tucked between two fingers like a cigar, his hunger vanishing on the wind.

Gods damn it, why him? It was always him, and for what? What was he even doing this for? All because Jarlaxle –

A flash of light.

Doriyah shot up, half eaten food launched into the dirt; Pavel and Jo jerked, throwing him odd looks as he glared towards the hole in walls, catching a distant flap of black disappearing around the wall. Growling, he moved towards the entrance of the square, before quickly coming to his senses, plopping back down against the wall.

“You good?” Pavel asked, as Doriyah gathered up the spilled food.

“Sure,” Doriyah said, brushing the dirt off an apple slice. “amazing. Fantastic. Never felt better.”

“See something?” Jo asked.

“Nothing important.”

“So you –”

“I didn’t see shit, okay?” Doriyah spat.

Jo narrowed her eyes but didn’t push the matter, turning her attention back across the town. Pavel, however, continued to stare at him as Doriyah demolished the last of his apple, grimacing at its dusty aftertaste.

“It’s the heat, huh?” Pavel asked, after a moment.

“Fucking…what?” Doriyah asked.

“The heat. Is it getting to you?”

“No it’s not fucking getting to me. I’m fine.”

“Alright. You know you can tell us if you weren’t, right?”

They stared at each other for far longer than Doriyah would have liked, that tiny part of him holding his gaze. It wasn’t until Jo pushed off the wall and walked out towards the city, did Doriyah finally look away.

It wasn’t until the sun dipped fully under the horizon, the chill of twilight beginning to creep into the air, did they finally finish. It was rough, and Doriyah was miserable and sticky, but by the Nine Hells, it was done.

Pavel stood beside him as they surveyed their work, standing in the center of the square like statues in a fountain; all the rubble had been cleared out, stacked into two piles in the gaps between the buildings. They wouldn’t be difficult to climb over, but during a fight, they’d be enough to slow anyone trying to get out. Of course, none would get that far; between himself, Pavel, and Jo on the ground, and with Serena and Cruck’aa on the buildings above, Doriyah couldn’t see any barbarians making it out alive. Assuming they’d come in in the first place.

He frowned; it felt like a majority of this plan worked on assumptions. Assuming they could trust Nura, assuming they could get the barbarians in, assuming Nura could get out…

“How the fuck does Nura get out when we start hitting shit?” Doriyah blurted out.

Pavel’s face scrunched in thought – a rarity, these days.

“I mean…” He began. “She can just…climb over the piles.”

“The ones we specifically made to be difficult to climb over?”

“Yeah…I don’t see why she couldn’t.” Pavel shrugged. “I mean, she seems the most capable out of everyone we’ve meant.”

“She better be. Put all this fucking faith in her.”

“You know, you’ve been cursing a lot today. You alright?”

Doriyah rolled his eyes and waved the question away. “Of course I’m not good, I’ve had to shove rocks around all day, why the fuck would I be good?”

“Is it just that? Because you seem more of an ass than usual.”

“Well maybe it’s because –”

Another flash.

Doriyah screamed, whirled around, and stormed out the square. He did not look back as Pavel called out after him.

His march to the walls served only to inflame his rage; each bootstep, each crunch of gravel and rock beneath him only stoking that fire further, until he could practically feel it radiating from his chest. By the time he stepped through the gaping hole, he could feel the sweat bedding on his forehead and back.

He halted just a few paces outside; in the dying light, the fields of ruined buildings looked almost peaceful amongst the flowing grass, bygone relics of a better time, only the wind filling the air. That beautiful silence was shattered as he bellowed to everything around him.

“Stop hiding you fucking pussy!”

Instantly, a Drow stepped out from behind a house, some feet in front of him. Bundled in a thick cloak with the hood pulled tight over his head, Doriyah could barely make out his eyes, two beady red orbs that glared through him as the Drow walked towards him. The rest of him looked identical to every other Drow he’d seen before; same dark leather armor, same fucking cloak, same absurd number of daggers strapped to…

No…that was different.

Doriyah met him halfway, growling as he pawed at his hip for his forgotten sword.

“Lot of fucking nerve.” He said.

“The same could be said of you,” The Drow growled back, voice like the gravel he’d just stepped on. “Why haven’t they left yet?”

“I don’t answer to people I don’t know. Who are you?”

“That’s irrelevant. Why haven’t –”

Doriyah lunged forward, but stopped halfway; the Drow flinched back, hand on a dagger, eyes narrowed to silts.

“Matters a lot,” Doriyah said, pointing at him. “Jarlaxle doesn’t let you people carry that much shit. And you flinched. His idiots don’t do that. So, who the fuck are you?”

The Drow’s lips twisted into a cruel smile.

“Clever. I am a member of the Do’Ates, currently working for our mutual employer.” The Drow said. “Now, what is your status?”

Doriyah grunted. “Pissed off, angry, and ready to bash someone’s head in. And you’re the closest one to me.”

“I meant on the –”

“I know what you fucking meant!” Doriyah snapped.

Despite being new, the Drow stared at him just like the others, eyes narrowed in what could have only been disgust; that, if he could, he’d try to strike Doriyah down only because he was lesser in his beady red eyes. Nine Hells, it was every one of them, from the lowest fuck all the way up to the grand Jarhead himself. Gods above, none of them respected him, no one did, except –

His lips pulled into a tight frown, the realization dousing him like ice water.

“Know what?” He finally said. “I’m done.”

“Excuse you.” The Drow said.

“Excuse your ass, I’m done.” Doriyah waved a hand. “I’m helping them and I ain’t giving you people anything. Try to signal me again and I’ll tell them everything and bash your head in when I find you.”

“Our first meeting.” The Drow spat. “And you’re giving up already?”

“I never wanted to work for you people! I was forced into this bullshit!”

“For good reason. Need I remind you what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”

“Remind my left nut.”

The Drow gave him a flat stare.

“Evidently, I do need to remind you of the agreement.” He said. “You –”

“I know!” Doriyah yelled. “I know! I get the concept! You can fuck off still!”

“Then you forfeit your agreement and any benefits your clan would receive?”

“Yes, for fuck’s –”

“Need I remind you, should you disclose this arrangement, the consequences will be worse.”

“Would you fuck off with that, yes!” Doriyah threw his hands up. “How many times do I need to –”

“Established.” The Drow shifted his weight. “Jarlaxle has instructed me to deliver one reminder of what he is capable of. When it comes, should it be enough, you know how to contact me.”

“Fucking…what?!”

But the Drow flipped on his heel and marched away, disappearing behind a different building. Doriyah thought of running after him, but after a moment of rolling the idea around, he shook his head and turned away. Knowing Jarlaxle, the Drow would have been gone already.

Pavel was waiting for him when Doriyah made it back between the buildings, the frown on his face deepening as he saw him.

“Everything alright?” He asked. “I thought I heard you yelling all the way out there.”

For a moment, Doriyah debated telling him everything. But that bastard in the stupid hat had thought of that, and despite what he thought, he knew he’d follow up on that promise. Instead, Doriyah simply clapped a hand on Pavel’s shoulder, and nodded.

“I’m good. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”