Not a Warrior's Death

~Not a Warrior's death
Tags: D&D, Thri-Kreen and Gnoll

Blood pounded, hemolymph surged.
An axe strike to the head of the gnoll, deftly dodged with yelping cackles. The Thri-kreen steadied grip on axe with one pair of hands, other pair drew back an arrow. She weaved, dodging missile, lunging for throat, cat-like reflexes paired with lupine maw.
He dodged, slamming bow, swinging axe, naught but air but room to move.
Vaulting, pivoting, drawing, aiming, missing.
She twirled, such wired reflexes, such graceful strides. Efficient, for a mammal.
Her muscles tightened, swinging maul, centre mass, easy.
Tenacious, he braced with axe. Impact taken, chitin ached.
Mandibles clacked an echoing screech as claws dug into soil, rending ground underfoot as impact skidded him.
Axe to bear, swinging, missing, parry counter, twirl, counterstrike, parried, blocking, bracing, skidding, screeching.
His limb pulsed, hydraulic surge, sharp kick to gut, doubling gnoll.
Headbutt, impact, gut seize.
Adrenal rush, bug flinched! Weakness! Exploit!
Rip, tear, gnash, maul!
Cold calm, no room for panic. Disarm mammal, two fists gut punch, two elbows kidney strike.
Flinch, stagger, retreat, shove away. Thri-kreen stumbled as he was thrown. Brace, pivot, throw weight into next strike! Lost axe, but foiled counter charge! Headbutt, FLURRY OF CLAW AND MANDIBLE!
Teeth found chitin, claws found chitin.
Flesh rending.
Chitin cracking.
Blood spilt, painting ground in crimson streaks.
Chitin spilt, painting ground in yellow spatter.
Patter, stutter, shudder, crash!
Both to the ground they fell.
Both to the black they fell.

***

Rising, clambering, weak and crippled.
He chattered and screeched.
No reply, not a sound.
Hands and knees, too weak for more.
She lay, sprawled and bloody, still yet breathing.
Day is hot, sun is scorching, thirst a threat, roasting in chitin.
Not a warrior's death, not a warrior's death...
Scratching, creeping, crawling, slipping.
He found the mercy to approach.
Heaving, panting, straining, agonized.
He found the strength to lift her.
He crawled and clambered, stumbled and fell.
He found the stamina to march on.
One, by one, by one, by one.
Hurrah. Hurrah.
Four limbs clawing the muck, soil grit and mud.
Hurrah. Hurrah.
Compound eyes, burning in sun's wrath. Inescapable, beating from overhead.
Hurrah, hurrah.
One, by one, by one, by agonizing, screaming and straining and ripping and faltering and failing and...
DOWN ON ONE KNEE, BODY BUCKLING, MANDIBLES CHATTERING, SCREECHING SKEIGH UNTO SKY.
THREE MILES DOWNHILL FROM THE RIVER! THREE MILES DOWNHILL FROM THE RIVER!
ONE. BY. ONE. BY. ONE. BY. ONE. HURRAH. HUR-... RAH!
Each step. A misstep. All. Failing. All. Buckling.
One, for all. One, for her.
Not a warrior's death. Languish not the warrior's pride. Languish not the swordman's fate. LANGUISH NOT. DEATH IN BATTLE. DEATH IN BLOOD.
NOT BY SUN, NOT BY THIRST.
DEATH IN BATTLE, A WARRIOR'S DEATH.
A WARRIOR'S PRIDE.
A stumble in the body, but never in the soul.
Drone or soldier, matters not.
Spit the bile, clear the throat, breathe yet clear.
March.
March.
One. By one. by one. by one.
Hurrah.
HURRAH. HURRAH. HURRAH.
HILL AT APEX. RIVER IN SIGHT.
March.
MARCH.
HURRAH. HURRAH!
ONE, BY ONE. ALL FOR HER.
NOT A WARRIOR'S DEATH!
Stagger to the river, stumble not the soul.
Screech not yet proud warrior, job is nearly done.
One, by one, march. Your nature. March.
Skriegh not yet brave warrior, you'll yet see home again.
As will she, the proud warrior, vicious and worthy.
The river. Before the light takes her.
The river. Before the light burns more.
Two limbs stumble. Four limbs crawl.
Two limbs arise. FOUR YET MORE.
NEVER.
RISE.
DOWN IS DEATH.
NOT A WARRIOR'S DEATH.
Pick her up again. Brace her tight again.
March.
MARCH!
The stones hot, they blister, they boil. Chitin pops, beneath yet stewing.
MARCH.
Sharp and jagged, cut the carapace. Stones like knives, rogues on the unwary.
MARCH!
Still your chattering, it's just a shattered plate. Five limbs remain, learn to walk straight.
MARCH!
The silty pebbles offer no purchase. Feet fail, void, null and sunk, stuck to the pit, the silt and soggy muck.
CLAWS CAN DIG, WORKERS LIVE FOR THEY DIG. FOXHOLE SOLDIER, WORK YOUR SPINE! SIFT THAT SHIT UNTIL YOUR DONE! CLAWS INTACT, FUCK HOW WEAK!? WEAR TO NUBS! WEAR TO NUBS!
MARCH LITTLE FLY, CRAWL LITTLE BUG, JOB'S NOT DONE, YOU CAN'T COME HOME!
RIVER. THERE. DRINK. THERE. SURVIVE LITTLE WORM. PROVE YOUR WORTH.
WEAKNESS. CRIME. DEATH. CRIME. FAILURE. CRIME.
One. by one. by one.
March.

***

She awoke the river, silt and muck matting fur.
She cackled and laughed, a warning cry.
Her answer not of blood and bone.
He chattered, clicking, ripping bits of stone from a broken leg.
She asked yet one question, not expecting answer.
He said yet one phrase, that stilled her heart mid beat.
Not a warrior's death. Not a warrior's death.
He held her head in one hand, cupped the river water with three.
She lapped and drank from this weakness, from this mercy, from this soldier.
Not a warrior's death.

***

Hours pass, night yet falls. She was alone for a time.
Cold and shaking, wary of his return. He clacked a reason, the meat he slew.
A fire for the deer, the cooking of the flesh. Swift with knife, skin intact. He offers it to her, a perfect pretty pelt.
He offers her some meat, delicious, bloody, rare.
She asks yet one question, not expecting answer.
He said yet one phrase, that stilled her heart mid beat.
Not a warrior's death. Not a warrior's death.

***

Days pass and shelter built.
Her shattered form slowly piecing. Walking feeble, limping still.
Progress regardless, hunting soon.
He stopped her rising, stopped her falling.
Eased her hurry, kept her healing.
Salve the cuts, poultice the wounds.
Set the breaks, relocate what's lost.
Bandages stripped from leaves and skins, peeling back patches of black.
Wounds were clearing, cleaning, infection receding.
She was weak however. Still yet healing.
She asked yet one question, not expecting answer.
He said yet one phrase, that stilled her heart mid beat.
Not a warrior's death. Not a warrior's death.

***

A season cycled as he tended.
Pressing wounds, setting hurts.
Mending flesh with careful gaze.
His own form weak, underfed and weary.
All for her, one by one, all for her.
She felt warmer, safer, fed.
Low ranked in her world, as he in his.
Matriarchal never worked for her, other women bigger.
But here a peer of different culture.
She asked him simple questions, his name, his polity.
Kaxik, no polity. Queen sent him just to die.
Matriarchal never worked for two, other women bigger.
She tells her name, Arish.
He chatters a hollow laugh, sincere but still so sad.
 She asked yet one question, not expecting answer.
He said yet one phrase, that stilled her heart mid beat.
Not a warrior's death. Not a warrior's death.

***

Time passes, heal fully. Shelter sturdy, lasted so long.
They stand by river, about to part ways.
Goodbyes are such sweet suffering.
He pet her spotted pelt, he never risked such before.
He wanted to know its texture, how plush it really was.
She ran a claw on his chitin, she was so weak just before.
She wanted to know its texture, how tough it really was.
She looks him in the eye, the cackling fiend was gone.
He looks her in the eye, the rapacious devourer was dead.
They ask the other one simple request.
They ask each other not to go.

***

A bed of grass, tiny, private clearing.
Big enough for two.
Clothes are discarded.
Modesty was overrated.
She took lead.
Denied alpha for so long.
Here she was queen.
He was content to serve.
Straddled, barebreasted in moonlight cast,
Spotted fur, wicked grin.
He ran two hands upon her breast.
Clutched two hands upon her hips.
Caress, gentle, loving, tender.
Foreign languages to bloodied, soiled claws.
Her grasp upon his shoulder, jowls raised in joyous sigh.
Firm, caring, loving, tender.
Unknown tongues to gory, matted pads.
She ground and writhed upon him, a shuddering cackle escaped.
Never been touched, never could take the right.
His member within, pulsating with life.
He thrust, matching pace, clutching tight, massaging firm.
Never been touched, nothing to the queen.
New queen, new rights, to serve, to protect.
One, by one, by one, he paced his thrusts.
Moonbeams painted patterns only he could see, colouring her fur in ways vivid, beautiful, pristine.
Chitin abrasive, rubbing in ways never before felt, innervating in ways vivid, powerful, potent.
Her claws sank in chitin, leaving rents and cuts.
No flinching, never flinching.
Howling, cackling, laughing.
Chattering, screeching, clicking.
Leaning in, she licked his face, kissed and pecked.
Fang and tooth locked in intercourse, tongue games and gentle nibbles.
Writhing, flesh and plate and skin and fur.
Speed, accelerate, quickly, haste.
Tempo up, pounding fast, breath lost, hands clenched.
Midnight signalled an simultaneous release.
A burst of pumping blood, surging hemolymph.
Sticky residues, as aftermath.
Temples atrophied, called to order.
The first ever prayer on equal grounds.
She fell upon him, embrace yet so warm.
Her fur a carpet, claws playing games.
She asked yet one question, not expecting answer.
He said yet one phrase, that stilled her heart mid beat.
Not a warrior's death. Not a warrior's death.