Grimoires and Gunsmoke

The dining hall of Mara’s tavern was dimly lit, with only a few flickering candles and the warm glow of the hearth illuminating the space. It was late at night, and the usual bustling crowd had long since dispersed, leaving only the six special forces team members, along with Yana and Azeline, seated at a large round table.

Mara and her tavern girls had prepared a feast for the group despite the late hour, serving the table an array of exotic dishes, each more intriguing and appetizing than the last.

The earthlings couldn’t help but do a double take when Mara’s girls ushered in with plates and pots of food. Everything was so alien, yet so extraordinarily familiar. It was as if these meals were a caricature of French or German cuisine, with thick cuts of sizzling, juicy meat similar to steak but giving off a vastly different smell. The aroma was rich and inviting, hinting at enticing but foreign flavors.

As he stared at the dish, Elijah suddenly heard a small giggle right behind him. Piña, the alluring catgirl, made her way over, her hips swaying and her tail curling and uncurling behind her. She set down a large pot of strange soup, its consistency similar to clam chowder, but it was a lot more vibrant, almost luminescent. Chunks of unfamiliar meats and bits of iridescent vegetables floated in the creamy broth, giving off a tantalizing, salty scent.

"What are y'all waiting for?" Piña teased, her tail gently caressing Elijah's face as she winked at him. "It ain't gonna bite ya. Eat up!" She grabbed an empty mug from Azeline's side of the table to get her more ale.

The scowl on Elijah’s face seemed to lighten a bit when the catgirl started to flirt, but he still held an aversion to what was in front of him. On the other hand, Yana didn’t hesitate one bit. She was smack dab in the middle of the table, squealing in delight. A moan of pure bliss echoed throughout the hall when she dug her tiny, razor-sharp teeth into her food, causing an explosion of flavor to dance across her tongue.

More curious than the others, Bennett picked at a piece of the sizzling meat with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked in an intrigued voice before looking over to Piña before she sauntered away.

Piña spun around and tilted her head before fixing him with a smile. "Oh, well, that’s seared wyvern steak!” She said almost excitedly while her tail flickered with interest. “Wyvern steak seasoned with both snapper spice and rubbed with tangos!"

Azeline's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait, wyvern steak? Isn't that expensive as all hells?"

Piña's smile turned smug. "Yep! A caravan of villagers had an entire carcass to sell, and we bid on a good bit of it!” She said proudly, taking a confident stance. “Mara thought we should treat our new guests to something reaaal nice!" She turned back to Elijah, giving him another playful wink.

Coleman's brows furrowed at the mention of the villagers. He hadn’t heard about any Wyverns being engaged while they were there, but as his mind worked, he mouthed a silent, ‘Oh, right’ when he remembered that he was the one that shot down one before they entered the village.

With everything that had been going on lately, he had completely forgotten he and Bennett had killed one. There was even an instance where the villagers, specifically Donnu, were ecstatic about cashing out on the dead creature. Especially when they were offered a 50/50 split when sold. But Coleman had been entirely preoccupied with tard wrangling Elijah to really acknowledge what he had agreed to.

However, while Coleman’s mind was busy processing everything that had happened, the team began to sample the exotic fare cautiously. One by one, each of their faces lit up with pleasant surprise as they took a bite. The wyvern steak was much more tender and juicy than they had initially expected. The so-called snapper spice and tangos rub gave off a complex and savory flavor with a hint of sweetness, and the fried green vegetables were crisp and earthy with a taste similar to yucca fries.

As the team dug into the feast, their initial wariness melted away, replaced by a growing sense of enjoyment and camaraderie. Ever the voracious eater, Yana was practically swimming in the dishes, her tiny hands grabbing morsels of meat and vegetables with glee.

But even as the mood lightened, Coleman couldn't quite shake his concerns as he watched Elijah and his fairy aggressively devour their food with a troubled look. "I know I’ve asked you a million times, but…" he said in a low and worried voice. "You're sure you weren't made? No one else saw you take the shot?"

Elijah paused mid-chew, looking annoyed and exasperated at Coleman. He swallowed his mouthful of wyvern steak and sighed. "Cole, we've been over this,” the medic replied, running a hand through his hair. “No one other than who we were trying to recruit saw me. I'm clean."

Coleman knew he sounded like a broken record, but they were deep in hostile territory, and any errant move could spell their end. "Look, you domed someone. I just want to make sure you didn't leave any evidence behind that’ll send looks our way."

"Boss, relax,” Elijah responded with a tone that made him feel fed up with this conversation. He then dug into his pocket and pulled out the expended 9mm casing before slamming it on the table. "What do you take me for? An amateur?"

Staring at the casing, Coleman leaned back in his chair with his hand coming up to rub the stubble growing on his face. He was completely baffled by how well this entire operation was going. Against all odds, against all his training and instincts, Elijah's insane methods were paying off in ways he couldn't even have dreamed of.

As a matter of fact, his mind had a hard time wrapping around the magnitude of what Elijah had just accomplished. In a matter of days, the medic had managed to secure an inside man with the local law enforcement and establish potential contacts within the criminal underworld. It was simply staggering. The potential of intel that could be provided to them, along with an unprecedented level of access and influence, would cause SOCOM to scramble over themselves to take advantage of it.

All that was missing was winning over a well-connected merchant, and they'd have everything they needed to establish a real foothold in this society. And Coleman was more than certain it was just a matter of time before that happened.

With a network of allies spanning the key pillars of power—law, crime, and commerce—they’d be able to put their government in a prime position to navigate the complex social and political landscape on this side of the rift.

But even as he marveled at Elijah's successes, Coleman couldn't shake the growing sense of unease that gnawed at him. The medic was becoming increasingly autonomous as time passed. He was starting to take risks and make decisions without consulting the rest of the team. It was a dangerous trend, one that was outright undermining him as a leader.

Coleman knew he needed to rein him in and reassert his authority as team leader. But he also knew that too heavy a hand could backfire and damage the delicate trust and rapport they had built. Elijah's unorthodox methods might be unconventional, but they were getting results. And in an environment where unknowns were the only factors, results were the only thing that mattered.

The team leader leaned forward, placing his elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand to collect his thoughts. He rubbed his eyes and heaved deeply before looking up at Elijah. "So, have you figured out what to do with these guys? How do we turn these contacts into actionable intel?"

A thoughtful look crossed Elijah’s face as he tossed a piece of that earthy green vegetable in his mouth. "Well," he said slowly, "I think our first step should be finding out where the Imperial garrisons are. We need to know their troop strength, patrol patterns, and routines.” Elijah explained as he poked at his food. “Our guy inside with the guards should be able to hand that if we grease his palms."

Nodding in agreement, Coleman had concluded that he had no choice but to let Elijah run this operation. "Good thinking. We’re going to need to figure out their force structure for future raids or airstrikes when the offensive starts.”

Elijah snapped his finger and pointed at Coleman as if he hit the nail on the head. "Yep! And now that you mention raids, we should try to get a read on who among the gangs and the guards are friendly towards the Empire and put the squeeze on them.” He added that before presenting Yana with a piece of the vegetable he was eating with his fork, “Wipe out any Imperial collaborators who refuse to work with us."

"Ruthless but smart." Coleman agreed. “Taking out their eyes and ears within the town itself would go a long way."

"We should also look into their supply situation," Elijah continued as he watched his patron happily crunch on the French fry analogy. How are they feeding their troops? Where are they getting their provisions? If we can figure out their logistics, we might be able to find some weak points to exploit."

Coleman nodded, his mind whirring with the possibilities. "A few raids here, a few raids there... maybe cause some mayhem and frame a few gangs hostile to our collaborators." But as he said this, a deep frown played on Coleman’s lips. ”What if the gangs you contacted don’t bite?."

"Then we kill ‘em and find someone who will work with us," Elijah replied with a nonchalant shrug.

He then leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and grasping his hands together. "From my understanding, these are the most 'reasonable' players in town. And in the language of someone who brokers information and runs an establishment like this..." He gestured around the tavern. "Reasonable means when you say jump, they jump. When you say come, they come."

A look of surprise spread across Coleman’s face as his eyebrow shot up. He couldn’t help but wonder how Elijah knew so much about… alien criminality. "You've really gotten a handle on how things work around here, haven't you?"

Elijah made a cutting motion at his neck, indicating that it wasn’t particularly impressive. "Their world, our world, shit’s all the same.” He replied with a chuckle. “Racketeers are a universal thing no matter where you go. Plus, I’m quick on the uptake."

He sat back, taking stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. "But I’m about 80% certain they’ll take the bait.” Elijah then took a bite of his food and spoke with a full mouth. “Mara’s the type where there’ll be consequences for not playing ball. A real eye opener that gave the entire game away when I dealt with her."

Coleman nodded slowly, even though he didn’t understand what Elijah was discussing. He assumed it was more psycho shit when it came to that sociopath. But it made a lot of sense to have someone so ruthless and calculating take the reign in the context of their new mission. They couldn't afford to be sentimental or let personal feelings or moral qualms get in the way of what needed to be done.

If anyone became a hindrance, they would need to be removed. It was as simple as that.

"Alright," Coleman said in a tired voice. "We'll play it your way. But we do this smart, we do this clean." He jabbed a finger at Elijah before grabbing his fork to work on his own plate of food. “No unnecessary risks, no collateral damage. I don’t want any more blood of innocents on my hands than I already have.”

Elijah threw his hand and rolled his eyes. “Oh please,” He scoffed as he shook his head in exasperation. “I never killed anyone that didn’t deserve it. Village chief included.”

Narrowing his eyes at his medic into a glare, Coleman took on a more chiding tone. “Eli…” He growled, wanting verbal confirmation from the man.

A frustrated sigh left Elijah’s mouth as he decided it wasn’t worth the headache to argue any further. “Alright, fine, fine, fine. If saying it out loud will make you feel better,” He grumbled. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. No collateral damage. I get it.”

***

A steamy, searing fog lingered above a massive, seemingly endless primordial forest. The fog’s tendrils snaked through the tree tops of the 100-meter-tall ancient trees and wrapped around the gnarled branches as if the mist had a mind of its own.

Yet, this was no natural phenomenon. The fog was so thick and impenetrable that even the keenest eyes of the greatest of beasts could pierce its veil. And at the unnatural haze’s source was a legion of mages spread out among the tree trunks, conjoining their eerie change into one omnipotent spell.

Gestures and incantations melded into a complex tapestry of magic orchestrated by a senior of immense skill to sustain the spell. This caused the fog to stabilize at just the right altitude and temperature, throwing off any being's vision, no matter what spectrum they saw. This left nothing but a dense and opaque expanse to hide the flurry of activity underneath.

Mystics stood between clusters of mages, casting esoteric spells that shimmered in the air like an otherwordly thread connecting clusters of mages to draconic entities far in the sky. But while the mystics quietly chanted in their strange yet divine tongue, wyverns shifted anxiously between the trees. Hordes upon hordes of wyverns growled and snapped at anyone and anything in agitation as they lurked in the forest. Meanwhile, their riders did their best to soothe irritated beasts, but cramped in such a claustrophobic space, far too close to other wyverns, their efforts were often in vain.

The air was thick with tension, the scent of fear mingling with the rancid smell of wyvern waste, making the situation slowly degrade with each passing hour. Every so often, a poor soul would have their life snatched away with a snap of a jaw after wandering where he shouldn’t. One such case highlighted the issue further when a mage assigned to maintaining their steamy blanket above staggered away while fresh faces ran to take their place.

The replacement, a lesser mage fresh out of his apprenticeship, unwittingly ventured too close to one of the giant wyverns that lurked in the forest's shadows. This wyvern was a monster among his kind with dark grey scales marred with scars that spoke of countless battles. The Wyvern was as terrifyingly fast as its massive jaws, filled with razor-sharp teeth, snapped out viciously, ready to end the life of the oblivious mage in a single, brutal instant.

But before those deadly jaws could close, a sharp slap rang out, echoing through the forest like thunderclaps. Eira, the sun elf commander of these winged beasts, had reacted equally as fast after seeing her mount’s irritated gaze.

"SKADI! NO!" Her voice was like a crack of a whip, filled with an authority that brooked no disobedience.

The wyvern immediately cowed under its master's rebuke. In the blink of an eye, its demeanor shifted from vicious and predatory to submissive and cowering. It lowered its massive head as a whimper escaped its throat. The only thought through the simple-minded beast's head was that it had just endured the worst beating of its life.

But even though her wyvern looked like the most pitiful thing in the world, Eira's finger remained pointed at it as she kept her unrelenting glare. Her golden eyes were filled with a fierce intensity as she continued to scold him. "Skadi...! Bad! No snapping at the mages!" She hissed with each word dripping with displeasure.

Skadi continued to whimper as it skulked away. Its eyes were usually filled with the feral light of a predator, but now it held a more submissive and pleading look as it gazed up at Eira, silently begging for forgiveness. But even in its contrition, the beast couldn't help but shoot the mage a hateful and resentful glare as if blaming them for the scolding it had received.

Noticing the dangerous look that promised revenge, Eira snapped her fingers and pointed towards its makeshift resting nest and away from the mage. “GO! NOW!” She barked as the wyvern skulked away and laid down in the bundle of leaves and grass.

Her wyvern was her most trusted partner. Skadi was a being who brought her back home countless times, but he still required a firm hand and an unshakeable will to keep him in line. The beast’s temper was legendary, and his instincts were sharper than any blade, so any lapse in discipline would cause him to act on impulse other than her command.

Still shaken from the near-fatal encounter, the mage held his hands to his chest, his face a mask of terror. His wide eyes darted from the glaring wyvern to its equally irate master, unsure which one posed the more significant threat.

"T-t-thank you, m-my lady," he stammered in a quivering voice. "I-I thought it’d –"

But before he could finish his apology, Eira whipped around, causing her bright flame-colored hair to billow in the wind. She fixed the novice mage scornfully as her golden eyes narrowed hatefully while a finger jabbed into his chest.

"You thought!? You apparently didn’t do much of that, now, did you!? " She snapped angrily, pushing the mage back with her finger. " These aren't couriers wyverns; they're gods-damned war wyverns! You daft, infantile fool! You should have known better than to get too close!"

The mage seemed to shrink under Eira's fierce gaze and verbal lashing. His shoulders hunched, and his presence grew smaller as if he wanted to disappear into his robes. "I-I'm sorry, my lady," he whispered with a pale face. "I wasn't thinking! It won't happen again!"

Eira held his gaze momentarily as her jaw tightened with anger. Then, with a huff of frustration, she turned away.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Eira more or less told the mage to fuck off and go away. The man in question didn’t need to be told twice and quickly turned to make his getaway and ran towards the cluster where he actually needed to be. The only thing that crossed the mage's mind as his robes billowed in his haste was that he managed to escape the wrath of both the beast and its master.

Shaking her head, the wyvern-commander lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval as she turned to one of her lieutenants. A tall, broad-shouldered Human with hair the color of midnight was not too far away from her, wearing an amused look. The man stood leisurely leaning against his wyvern, who wore a more curious look rather than an uncomfortable one that its kin seemed to have.

Her Lieutenant shook his head while a wry grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You shoulda let Skadi eat him," he said in a deep voice tinged with amusement. "Would've taught everyone else a lesson they wouldn't soon forget."

Eira rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Tempting," she admitted, looking at Skadi, who stared vindictively at the retreating mage.

Once it turned back to Eira, the wyvern went back to pouting pathetically, still upset about the earlier scolding. The creature shifted its large body to better nestle in its makeshift nest as its tail lashed against the massive tree trunk in agitation and let out a groan, a sound that sounded equally in part a whimper as it did a growl.

"I know, boy," Eira cooed as she walked over to the beast and ran her hand along its tough scaly flank in an affectionate gesture. "I wish we could just let you do your thing. But no, The Duchess had to put me in charge of these careless idiots." She sighed, leaning her forehead against Skadi's side.

The wyvern, sensing its rider's frustration, turned its massive head, nuzzling Eira gently with its snout. "And I'd rather not incur her ire," Eira murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. "Not when she's already in such a sensitive state."

But as Eira stood there with her forehead pressed against Skadi's side, she suddenly felt a warmth emanating from the pouch at her hip. Frowning, she reached in and pulled out a small wooden tile that was no larger than half the size of her palm.

The tile itself seemed to have been made by a master craftsman. Strange and intricately carved patterns twisting and writhing across its surface as if they were alive were a design Eira immediately recognized, which caused her face to contort uncomfortably. It was a product of the Sylvan Weavers, specifically their artisans who lived deep within the heart of the Sylvan Forest, whose work was always imbued with a touch of the forbidden and otherworldly magic.

As Eira stared hatefully at the thing, she noticed that the patterns carved into it seemed to shift and move in an almost hypnotic and complex manner. Another grumble left the wyverns-commander’s mouth as her nose wrinkled in disgust. The magic contained in the thing made her feel a physical discomfort, especially when the carvings began to shift and write into the shape of a mouth as if it were trying to speak to her.

Eira gave her Lieutenant a look of trepidation before she hesitantly brought the tile to her ear and closed her eyes, expecting what was to come. And when she did, a strange, unintelligible whisper filled her mind. Words of a bizarre and unknown language slithered through her thoughts like serpents. For a moment, her face contorted in pain as the sensation of her mind twisting and turning in unnatural ways to make sense of what was being conveyed almost overwhelmed her.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the whispering ceased. The writing on the tile ceased, and the patterns settled back into stillness.

A disgruntled grunt left Eira’s mouth as she prevented her lunch from coming out. "Gods, I hate that," she muttered with a voice tight with displeasure.

Ignoring her discomfort, her Lieutenant looked at her expectantly. "What did they say?" he asked in an interested tone.

Tucking the tile back into her pouch, Eira’s expression turned serious as she slapped her face to ward away the rest of the lingering effects. "The next drill is happening within minutes," she said, already moving towards Skadi. "You and the entire wing, man the wyverns. We need to be in position."

The Lieutenant nodded as he ran towards his own beast’s flank. "Aye, Captain!" he acknowledged her orders concisely that befitted his station before turning his face towards the rest of their wing. “MAN YOUR WYVERNS!!” He shouted as loud as he could as he began checking his gear.

Eira quickly and efficiently swung herself into Skadi's saddle as she watched him slowly rise and shake his head. She could feel the wyvern's muscles tensing beneath her, eager to beat its wings and take to the skies where it belonged.

"Here we go again…" she murmured as her eyes scanned the steamy canopy above.