A Long Hot Summer, Chapter 6

 "Move the damn dire wolves," the man snapped at the two handlers, "and bloody keep them quiet!"

The wagons arrived in Thundermist Village in the middle of the night, rented a large barn, and proceeded to unload their deadly cargo into the barn. They just had to wait here a day for the wagons that would take the wolves inside Qeynos to come, and their part of the deal would be done.

"They're hungry," the female wolf trainer said, her face pale and drawn.

"I don't care if they're starved," the man snapped. "We're not feeding them anything, and if you have to, feed them something from the wild. No villagers."

"Yes, sir," the trainers said, their voices barely above a whisper.

"How's our guest?" the man asked, staring at a cage.

"He's not going anywhere," the second trainer said, wiping his brow.

"Good," the man said, his eyes glinting in the dark. "I want him awake when we feed him to the wolves. Stupid ratonga. Stupid Qeynos."

The trainer grinned.

"This will show them," the first trainer said, her eyes flashing. "We'll show them."

"Yes," the man said, a dark smile crossing his face. "And then we'll take the fight to Freeport."

The group finished moving the wolves into the barn, and the trainers set about feeding them as the menacing beasts paced in their cages.

The female half-elf watched the men work from the darkness, her nearly black eyes as deep as the cold night around them. She watched the men work and stared into the wolves' hungry jaws.

Vaelithra's heart was as cold as the winter night air, preparing herself for the moment when the wolves would be unleashed upon the innocents of Qeynos, and their dark master would be summoned. She waited for the moment, knowing that the time was close. The time was near, and she would see the city burn.

"We are coming," she whispered, her voice like ice.

She waited, watching, her eyes like daggers.

"You will not stand in our way," she hissed, her voice full of hate.

"I will see you dead," she promised, her eyes burning.

"No one will stop us," she vowed, her voice a low growl.

"Not even the gods."

She smiled, her eyes glittering with malice.

"Your days are numbered," she promised.

"And soon, you will die."

She turned, disappearing into the night, her form vanishing into the shadows like a wraith.

The Freeblood vampire smiled, counting his coins in a local tavern, eyes on the locals and the rest of his men around the table. He nodded at the group, tipping his top hat to the server as she passed.

"Careful about discussing our true purpose here," he said, "we're just traveling traders. Our friend in Thundermist has permitted us to take these wild animals through these parts for eventual release across the sea. We are all conservationalists, looking to care for the lesser creatures of the world."

His men chuckled.

"Aye," a dwarf said, "we're all friends o' nature, an' all."

The group laughed, enjoying the ale and the warmth of the fire.

"We'll stay here a few days, then move the wolves to Qeynos," the Freeblood said. "I hear they are fond of the innocentsthere, and I'm sure they would enjoy a few new additions to their dinners."

"That they would," the human rogue agreed.

"Then," the Freeblood said, his eyes glittering. "We move onto the next city."

"And the next," the half-orc fighter added.

"And the next," the human mage agreed.

"Until every city is ours," the rogue said, a dark grin crossing his lips. "And our dark lord summoned."

"To the end," the Freeblood said, lifting his glass.

"To the end," the others echoed, lifting their glasses.

"And then, to the conquest," the Freeblood added, his voice low.

"To the conquest," the others agreed, their eyes glittering.

They drank, their minds filled with visions of glory and power.

The rogue smiled at the Freeblood, nodding his head slightly and waiting for the signal. The Freeblood returned the nod, his eyes flashing red.

"Say fellas," the rogue smiled, "seeing how this is the end of our business here, and just the security force is needed until our cargo is delivered, let's say we grab the wagons for the coast, and head out on that ship waiting for us. Back to Freeport?"

"Aye," the dwarf warrior said.

"It's been too long," the mage agreed.

"Let's," the Freeblood said, smiling. "I'd hate to leave the poor souls we found on that ship there without protection. That'd just be downright unkind."

The men chuckled, and the rogue led the group out of the tavern.

The Freeblood vampire followed, his thoughts turning to the people he'd left on the ship, and the souls he'd sacrificed to summon his dark master.

The Freeblood vampire smiled, his fangs glittering in the light of the full moon. He stared at the people around him, his eyes flashing with bloodlust.

He grinned, his eyes full of hunger and need.

"I'm coming for you," he whispered, his voice filled with hatred.

The rogue waved the men into the cart and took the reins, heading out of town with the eight men in the back of the wagon. The Freeblood stayed behind to monitor the handlers and security force.

"It's been a good run," the half-elf said, a satisfied grin crossing his face.

"It has," the  Dwarf said, his eyes glittering.

"I'm still glad to be leaving," the mage said, his voice low.

The rogue checked the side of the road, keeping his hood pulled over his face, knowing that either the Qeynos Royal Assassins or those idiots in the Crimson Inquisition were watching the place like a hawk. That's what he would have done once the wolves were moved.

"Keep your eyes peeled for the patrol," he warned the group.

"Aye," the dwarf said, his eyes narrowed.

"No one's out," the mage said, scanning the horizon.

"Good," the rogue said, nodding. "Then we have time to make a clean getaway."

The mage smiled, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Let's," the half-elf said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

The rogue drove the horses through the night, keeping an eye out for the patrol. He noticed a too-good hiding spot on the ridge, his eyes narrowing when he had a feeling someone was watching him from there, and he smiled. He knew it was that idiot Gadilus, the ranger with the demon hunters. He knew the guy would try to follow, but his mind was not focused on them, and the man felt his attention shift towards the docks, his thoughts returning to the ship.

Tali must be away somewhere this evening, likely treating her team to dinner in preparation for what he knew was coming. That's what he would have done with his team, though the Freeblood's crew was not as loyal as his. Still, the rogue knew Tali was not a fool, and she would have the dock under surveillance. He had not expected the demon-hunter team to be as thorough, and while the thought was amusing, it was a small thing.

Or was his crew loyal?

He sighed as he pondered the thought. Could Talianimi go rogue on him?

Could her dark elf nature have taken over?

She was a strange creature, with a power that rivaled his own, and an intelligence that matched it. She was also beautiful, in a dark, dangerous sort of way, and she had a way of getting under his skin like no one else.

"Damn," the rogue muttered, his mind racing.

He had to focus, had to stay on task. He couldn't afford any distractions, not now. Not when everything was so close.

He gritted his teeth, pushing the thoughts aside.

"Stay on task," the rogue muttered, his voice low.

He would have to deal with the situation later.

He glanced over at the mage, and his eyes widened as the man began to cast a spell.

"What the hell are you doing?" the rogue snapped.

"Getting us out of here," the mage replied, his voice calm.

"Stop it," the rogue ordered, his voice filled with anger.

"Why?" the mage asked, a smug look on his face.

"You're going to blow our cover," the rogue hissed. "No magic!"

"I don't think so," the mage replied, a smile playing across his lips. "I am taking my cut, and I am getting out of here!"

The rogue cursed, his eyes blazing with fury.

"No," the mage continued, his eyes flashing with power. "I am getting my share, and then I am gone!"

"Damn you," the rogue snarled.

"No," the mage said, his voice low and dangerous. "You are damned, not me."

The rogue snarled, his mind racing. He reached into his cloak, grabbed a dagger, and threw it with force at the mage's chest. The blade struck home, sinking deep into the mage's heart, and the man gasped, blood spilling from his mouth.

"What the fuck?" the dwarf yelled.

The rogue pulled the reins, bringing the cart to a stop. He reached into his cloak, grabbed another dagger, and threw it at the half-elf, the blade striking him in the throat.

"You son of a bitch," the dwarf shouted, his eyes blazing with rage.

"Shut up," the rogue snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

"You killed them," the dwarf yelled, his eyes filled with anger and pain.

"They were going to betray us," the rogue snarled.

"Fuck you," the dwarf shouted. "You murdered them!"

"It's war," the rogue hissed. "They were traitors."

"They were your friends," the dwarf said, his voice low and angry.

"No," the rogue replied, his voice cold. "They were my enemies. And now, they are dead."

"You're a bastard," the dwarf snarled.

"Shut up," the rogue snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. He looked at the five others in the cart, their heads low, but some of them shook with nervous energy, like they wanted to bolt and run.

"Get out of the cart," the rogue ordered.

"Make me," the dwarf sneered.

"Don't tempt me," the rogue growled. "I'm already in a bad mood, and I'm not going to take any shit from you."

"Bullshit," the dwarf snarled. "You killed them, and you're not going to kill us. We'll tell Qeynos Guards, and they'll-"

"You'll do nothing," the rogue snapped. "Now get the fuck out of the cart, or I'll throw you out."

"Go ahead and try," the dwarf said, his eyes burning with defiance.

The rogue clenched his fists, his face red with anger.

"Fine," the rogue snapped. "I'll do it."

The dwarf glared at the rogue, his eyes filled with hatred.

"Get the fuck out of the cart," the rogue snarled.

The dwarf spat at him, his eyes filled with contempt.

The rogue grabbed the dwarf's shirt, hauling him out of the cart. The dwarf hit the ground hard, cursing and swearing.

"Fuck you," the dwarf spat.

"Get the hell out of here," the rogue said, his voice low and dangerous. "And don't ever come back."

The dwarf glared at him, his eyes filled with hatred and contempt.

"You're a bastard," the dwarf snarled.

"Yeah," the rogue said, his voice cold and cruel. "Walk that way."

"Fuck you," the dwarf spat.

"Keep going," the rogue snapped. "You can go to Freeport, but you're never coming back."

"Yeah, well, fuck you," the dwarf snarled, turning and walking away.

"Fuck you, too," the rogue said, his voice filled with malice.

The rogue turned, watching the dwarf walk away, his mind racing. He grabbed a crossbow from the side of the cart, cocked it, and aimed at the dwarf's head.

"Die, you traitor," the rogue whispered, squeezing the trigger.

The crossbow bolt slammed into the back of the dwarf's head, the sound echoing through the night. The dwarf crumpled to the ground, his blood staining the dirt.

"That's for being a traitor," the rogue whispered, his voice filled with malice. "And for being a right fucker."

"May the Dark Lord take you," the rogue whispered, his voice low and dangerous.  "You piece of shit."

The five remaining men darted, all of them bolting from the cart. The rogue cursed, grabbing a handful of poisoned darts and throwing them at the men. Three struck true, dropping the men instantly.

"Damn you," the rogue cursed, his eyes flashing with rage.

The rogue grabbed a dagger and hurled it at a running man, the blade slicing into the back of his head. The man collapsed, his body twitching. The last man disappeared into a nearby crater, glowing with a strange, eerie light. The rogue cursed, loaded the crossbow, grabbed a short sword, and ran towards the giant crater.

"Come on out," the rogue shouted. "You can't hide from me!"

The man remained silent, his form hidden in the darkness.

"Come on out," the rogue repeated, his voice filled with malice.

The rogue circled the crater, his eyes scanning the shadows. He could feel the man's presence and sense his fear.

"Come out," the rogue commanded, his voice filled with power.

The man remained silent, his presence like a shadow in the night.

"You can't hide from me," the rogue said, his voice filled with contempt.

The man stepped out from behind a boulder, his form illuminated by the moon.

"Why did you kill them?"

"Because they were traitors," the rogue said, his voice filled with malice.

"You didn't have to kill them," the man said, his voice pleading.

"Yes, I did," the rogue replied, his voice cold. "Now, are you going to fight, or are you going to die like a coward?"

"I don't want to fight," the man said, his voice shaking.

"Then you will die," the rogue hissed.

The rogue charged at the man, his blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"Please," the man begged. "Don't do this."

"I have no choice," the rogue said, his voice low and cold.

The rogue raised his blade, the sound of metal against bone ringing through the night.

"You could have fought me," the rogue whispered, his voice filled with malice. "Maybe you'd have a chance. Or not."

The man crumpled to the ground, his blood staining the sand.

"But you chose the wrong side," the rogue said, his eyes gleaming.

The rogue stared down at the dead man, his heart filled with hatred and contempt. He was a traitor, and he deserved to die. He dragged the bodies back to the cart, one by one, and tossed them inside.

"Rest in pieces," the rogue said, a wicked smile crossing his face. "And long live the fucking Queen."

The rogue turned, his eyes locking on the docks. He would have to deal with the traitorous handlers next, then move the wolves and begin the next phase of his plan. All of his work tonight was sanctioned. He knew not a damn soul would like it, but he was in the right, again, on this, and there was not a damn thing the whiney pussies the Queen wanted to call her heroes could do.

"You're not going to stand in my way," the rogue said, his voice filled with hatred.

"I will see you all burn," the rogue promised, his voice low and cruel. He turned the wagon towards the Dead Scar, where he knew the zombies would feast upon the flesh of these worthless fools.

"You'll pay for what you've done," the rogue vowed, his voice low and dangerous. "All of you."

"The guilty and the seditious."

He smiled.

"And you know who you are."