Karp
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Chapter 159
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 20:56:46 +0000 UTC(Hours Earlier)
Rho'dan snapped his eyes open, and found himself in an unfamiliar place.
The last he remembered, he was battling with some gangly faceless man. Upon his triumph over the other Hero, he was ambushed, and blacked out. Based upon the sound of the wing beat of his ambusher, it was likely the obsessive Dragon, Merithra, that had ambushed him.
Now, he was here. Wherever here was.
Rho'dan stoically assessed his current situation.
He was currently dressed in a simple tunic, and seated in a large, comfortable chair. Upon which, cold metal manacles clamped onto his legs, limiting the flow of his mana.
A single lamp hanging from above dimly illuminated a small room.
Within this place, Rho'dan couldn't see beyond perhaps ten feet from his current position. The edges of this domain-where the light didn't touch-seemed as if they were occupied by a thin, intangible film of living shadow.
Rho'dan surmised that some spatial law was at play, and that this lamp was keeping something at bay. Straining his ears, Rho'dan attempted to glean some information from what this something was, but this act proved to be fruitless.
However, the cord holding the lamp to the black ceiling caught his eye. If he could get his hands on it, he might be able to form a thin wire, and pick the lock to his restraints.
Continuing his examination, Rho'dan noticed that directly below the lamp there was a small, simple wooden table. The only thing of note about it, was that a chessboard had been set on top of it.
Across from him was an unoccupied chair. Leaning against said chair, were his set of armor, weapons, and mageweave bag. Interestingly, there was also a ball of yarn. Whoever had placed it there must know him well, as secretly, knitting was his favorite hobby.
Acting under the premise that he was being watched, Rho'dan leaned down to scratch his shin, at the same time, he tested to see if he could lift or slide his seat. Yet he was disappointed to find it was bolted to the ground. However, during this inspection, he also got a good look of the table's underside. Long scratch marks marred the wooden frame. It would seem he was not the only victim to have occupied this seat.
Complete with his observation, Rho'dan closed his eyes, and silently folded his arms in front of himself. He decided to patiently await his host to make themselves known, as they had brought him here for a purpose.
Eventually, Varrus would rescue him, or he would make his own escape…and should he perish, then so be it. Rho'dan had honored his oaths to Vandercross. He did not fear death.
Taking a deep breath, Rho'dan wrinkled his nose as a new scent entered the room.
Slowly opening his eyes, Rho'dan noticed someone had occupied the seat in front of him.
Curiously, he had smelt her, yet his keen sense of hearing had picked nothing up.
Eying the suspected kidnapper, Rho'dan admitted to himself, she was an attractive woman.
Possessing pale white skin that one might almost call grey, she had Elven ears, and reminded Rho'dan of the Darkfallen. Yet there was a vibrancy to her that was unmistakably alive. Her hair, lipstick, outfit, and eyes were all purple violet.
Clearly theming was very important to this host of his. In fact the seat she sat upon had purple upholstery.
Filing away this knowledge for later, Rho'dan knew that such people typically expected events to go a certain way. And if they didn't go according to plan-that events didn't fit exactly in their perfect box of ideas-then they overreacted. Typically this outburst resulted in sudden violence, screaming, sobbing, or all of the above. Keeping this in mind, Rho'dan wondered how he might exploit this character trait in the near future.
Meanwhile, the beautiful woman sitting down across from him had a hand on her hip, and wore an exasperated expression on her face. On the other hand, she took a puff from a long pipe, and softly exhaled the smoke, mixing the odor of her perfume with that of tobacco.
Tapping her pipe into a tray, the woman glared at Rho'dan.
It seemed as if she recognized him, and was irate that he was looking at her so woodenly.
Rho'dan wasn't one for sighing, like Varrus, but he certainly felt uncomfortable at the situation he found himself in. This wasn't the first time he had been held under duress by a beautiful woman.
He would have to exert the best of his wits if he was to manage another escape.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From within the darkness of the room, Vaermina, Daedric Prince of Nightmares inhabited her Avatar in the form she most liked. When she came to Azeroth, she had entered through the land of dreams. Yet the Titans and their minions had sealed her true power, leaving her but a fragment of what she was capable of.
They feared she would merge her realm, Quagmire, with the Emerald Dream. To bring ruin and despair upon the land. To convert the nascent spirit of Azeroth into something of her own design.
In truth, Vaermina was tempted to do just that, however, all she really wanted to do was travel beyond Oblivion, and see for herself the denizens of this world. It was something of a hobby of hers to peer into the dreams of others. Why people had ascribed her as the Queen of Nightmares, she didn't know. As only those with a guilty conscience would suffer when they dreamt. It wasn't her fault that they found themselves in Quagmire.
Tsking to herself, Vaermina hated the positive reputation Meridia had with the mortals, and wished they thought similarly of her. Especially on this plane. They all blindly praised the Light, but did any of them truly understand where the Light came from? Or who had co-opted it for their use?
At the end of the day, this Avatar had remained all but useless, sealed in the Emerald Dream. Bored, she had taken on a moniker similar to her sister's, Merithra. Weakened in power, she could only visit one dream a night, and her influence was less than that of a novice dreamweaver.
It was by fate that she had stumbled upon a young warrior one night. The thin teen was being abused by his master, an armored knight obsessed with researching enchantments.
Vaermina took pity on him, and saw much of herself in the way he silently took the abuse. When she split from her father, Magnus, she was scorned by her 8 other sisters for being a dimly lit star. This experience had shaped her, and for ages past, she had always felt that she was in the shadow of her siblings. It was why she retreated to the realm of dreams and infinite possibilities. In a place like this, anything could happen, anyone could look like anything, and anyone could be her friend.
It was this very search for friends that had her approach the young Rho'dan. Every night, she would soothe him. Some days, they would do nothing but gaze at the stars of long dead galaxies, others they would ride out into the night upon mythical steeds. Above all, they liked playing chess, and knitting clothes.
Yet for all their merriment, Rho'dan eventually grew into adulthood, and such fanciful dreams no longer took his interest. Every day, his subconscious pushed her out of his dreams every day. The more he grew in power, the less she had the ability to interact with him. Limited as she was, she eventually lost contact with Rho'dan.
Then when all seemed hopeless, she had met another person being tortured by fate. Xavius the Satyr had promised her friendship and goodwill. But that relationship had ended in tragedy, and a second seal limiting her power even more had been placed over her.
But now, things were sure to change. Sitting in her room, the object of her affection had finally become hers.
Examining Rho'dan as he came to, Vaermina watched him take note of his manacles, the lamp wire, as well as the subtle shift of the chair as he tried to move it.
She wondered what his reaction would be if he ever cut out the light?
After a few minutes had passed, the stoic redhead closed his eyes, and was patiently awaiting her arrival.
Vaermina smiled as she drank in his rugged appearance. Well sculpted muscles covered his tanned form, and a scar ran across his face. Such a mark may turn off holier than thou women, like her sister, Meridia. But Vaermina was familiar with scars.
Lightly grasping at her ring finger, Vaermina's breath tightened, yet she didn't allow the past to weigh her down.
Sitting in front of her was the object of her dreams. Rho'dan was a fine specimen of a man. Loyal to a fault, always willing to do what needed to be done, a creative interrogator, and wrangler of the child Vandercross. He radiated single father energy, and she sensed the same loneliness in him that she found in herself.
Lighting up her favorite pipe, Vaermina sat down, and was pleased when he noticed her scent.
She internally preened, and awaited his customary greeting.
Yet after a moment of silence, his blank face began to irk her.
Feeling as if her heart had been pierced, Vaermina blew a smoke ring on Rho'dan's face, she then silently moved a piece on the chessboard. It was an open she had done thousands of times.
The subtle clack of the piece seemed to echo in the tiny quiet room, yet the strong redhead gave no indication that he was interested in playing their once upon a time most favorite game.
Seeing that he required some motivation, Vaermina looked the man in the eyes, and parted her lips.
“Should you win, I will grant you your heart's desire. However, if I emerge victorious, you must do something for me. Your first move acts as the seal to this agreement.”
Rho'dan furrowed his brow, then replied by moving a piece forward after a moment of thought.
Vaermina inclined her head, then began the game in earnest.
Back and forth, they silently dueled, taking piece after piece.
The only noise being the clickity clack of their pieces. Between this motion, the pauses between each move became lengthier as they stopped to consider their next move.
Vaermina smiled as she watched Rho'dan shift to one side. It was through years of careful observation that she knew this to be his thinking pose.
There were very few pieces on the board at this time, and a mistake now could very easily determine the victor.
Sadly smiling at the man, Vaermina wanted to keep him here forever. Yet she was not that kind of woman.
Taking a deep inhale from her pipe, she relished the time she spent with him, and drank in his appearance. It was nice to see him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rho'dan played the game of chess as if his life depended on it.
Every piece she had taken was a sacrifice, one with the sole goal of checkmating her king.
The intense match seemed to drag on for quite some time, yet the more he played, the more he felt as if he had done these exact same moves before.
This was an odd sense of deja vu, as he had never really gotten into chess, and couldn't remember the last time he had played a match.
Looking at his opponent, Rho'dan wondered if he had ever been under mind control, or perhaps drugged with a love potion. Because when he looked at her mature form, and the poise with which she carried herself with, it surprised him how attractive she seemed.
As someone who had interacted with crazy ex's a dozen times throughout the centuries, this was new.
It was only through his dedication and belief in House Vandercross that he could hold himself back from conversing with her. While she was pretty, and based upon this game of chess, highly intelligent, his logical side would not allow himself to be swayed by emotion.
Watching her slumped shoulders, the disappointment in his failure to recognize her, it was like watching a sad, lonely, unloved puppy. A puppy that Rho'dan felt like it was his, but had been claimed by someone else.
Feeling his heartstrings tighten, Rho'dan exhaled a breath of bad air, and focused on the game. A magical contract had encompassed both of them as soon as he started playing. Whoever lost would have to honor their word.
Less than 6 pieces remained on his side of the board, and it was getting close.
The intensity of their match picked up, and within a couple more moves, Rho'dan had secured victory.
Smiling at his, the purple haired woman looked expectantly at Rho'dan, yet all he did was stare at her, waiting for her to fulfill her end of the bargain.
Her disappointment was palpable, yet Rho'dan did not let up in his stern stare down.
“Accept the contract.” Rho'dan demanded.
“I am a lady of my word.” The woman bowed. As she lowered herself, a knitted necklace of yarn fell forward from within her cleavage onto the table. At the same time, the mana restricting manacles locking him in place came undone.
Upon seeing this, Rho'dan's heart figuratively moved into his throat. That handiwork was his.
An explosion of untapped memories flooded his system, and Rho'dan was forced to hold onto the table, lest he fall over.
“Vaermina.” Rho'dan said, tasting the word as it left his lips like a bitter-sweet candy.
“So you do recognize me.” The lady, no, Vaermina clapped.
When Rho'dan looked up from the table, he saw tears pooling in her violet eyes.
“You intended to lose from the very beginning.” Rho'dan said as he recognized that the chess game had followed a pattern he had played a thousand times.
“Guilty as charged.” Vaermina sardonically inclined her head, then took another puff of her pipe.
Rho'dan stood from his seat, and saw the outline of a door taking shape to the side.
He glanced at Vaermina, and it seemed as if she wouldn't stop him. He considered stopping to chat, but his duty to House Vandercross, to his liege lord compelled him forward. He had dedicated himself to Varrus, and in this strange realm, would give his life if he had to. While he wanted to catch up, he could not allow himself to fall into such depravities when his family was on the line.
Gathering his gear, and approaching the door, Rho'dan turned back, and looked down at Vaermina. He saw the strength of a Goddess. Yet the hand hidden under the table was trembling.
“Before you go….never mind.” Vaermina turned her head away, and hid her face from view behind purple bangs.
Rho'dan remained in the doorway. His spirit warred with itself as his love for this long lost companion fought against his duty to the House.
Closing his eyes, Rho'dan wondered what Varrus would want him to do in such a situation.
It only took a second for him to realize the young Highlord would likely have something lewd in mind.
Unbidden, laughter spilled out in a deep baritone.
“So you would laugh at me, just like my sisters-mmph?!” Vaermina began to say in spite filled scorn, only to have her speech halted by a pair of lips.
Rho'dan withdrew from the kiss, then took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.
Vaermina felt love swell in her chest, and the Emerald Dream shook as the seal containing her Avatar broke.
Vaermina, Daedric Prince of Nightmares, had fallen in love.
Comments
Ryan Helmbold
Rhodan needs a good woman, and this vermina seems good
Ryan Helmbold
Haha yes!
Michael DiVelbiss
That.... is actually adorable. Now I'm actually rooting for this. This is my new thing. Goddamnit Karp.
Kasikan
When she asks Rho'dan why he did that, he'll have to explain that he questioned what Varrus would tell him to do. She'll be even happier with her new nephew thanks to that. Since he's a much better influence on Rho'dan than all the masters he's served under previously.
Smitty
TFTC, this is gonna be bad news for the emerald dragons
Sarratugga Rites
Welp looks like Varrus now has a Dardric Prince as an Aunt.
