Caves of Mugiba -- WIP

The arm had healed fully. Aleksandr Yunkin flexed his left arm, and the continuous band of pain and tension down its length persisted. The Order’s magicians had restored it from tatters. Aleksandr had seen it with his own eyes as he lay in the bloody dreck covered battlefield. Ears ringing from musketfire, his body torn between agonizing pain and the numbness of immanent death. The mouth of the Kobold moving soundlessly as he lay dying in what would later be known as the Clash at Mugiba.  Her eyes had been so brown, vividly bright. Poking and prodding stealing his attention away from the bloody ruins of his left arm, likely yelling for medical sorcerers. Even years later, thoughts like that returned at odd moments. Scattering disorienting bursts of memory from battlefields and flashes of pain that should not be. The pain and disorienting memories should not be, that is what the doctors with their magics had said. He was fully healed, nerves and flesh restored fully. He could not doubt them, he’d been spared death’s embrace due to their efforts on many occasions. Still he could not doubt the litany of pain within; yelling that his flesh had not been knit and rewoven, screaming with tears and rends in pain’s own speech. Nor could he doubt the moments where shopkeepers or children held sword and musket for the briefest of instants. Or barred tooth and claw in the beastly forms he had slain firsthand. They were short moments, and Aleksandr comforted himself with this knowledge. He had yet to let confusion lead to trouble, but the very presence of such things was disturbing. There had been many many battles and clashes for him. It was a lot to potentially haunt a man. And a moment on the battlefield could feel like a lifetime… So he was here, back in Mugiba after so many years.

The cold sweat on his brow had nothing to do with the hot sultry weather of Mugiba where he now walked. The small village which the Order had saved from savage beasts had barely survived, just like Aleksandr. It had been rebuilt from collapse as well, for a dizzy moment the soldier wondered if Mugiba ached and suffered as he did. The moment faded, and the small black and brown children playing in the local sook returned. The teasing loud voices that were the same for children everywhere were comforting despite their shrillness and bursts of puerile profanity.  He stifled a laugh as a boy insisted another was a crotch-head with a child’s characteristic inability to control volume. As a boy, Aleksandr had been twice as good at cursing, he’d been twice as spiteful as well.  The tall soldier’s smile turned into a grimace as he felt his arm twist no matter how he loosened it. The brief friendly impulse to teach the children some of the language that had gotten him so far in the rough and tumble landscape of life faded. His mood had soured instantly, becoming spiteful and bitter. The villagers didn't deserve either, they'd fought alongside him, with less equipment and training. Some had even joined the Order after fighting the vicious beasts with him. One such comrade, Adil N’ait, had advised him to return to Mugiba.

“The Order’s magic is good,”, said the dark-skinned man, his normally jovial face set in a frown from hearing of Aleksandr’s woes, “But some wounds are deeper than magic can reach. We fought the beasts for many years before the Order came to help, we did not have enough men to destroy them.” Aleksandr had smiled viciously in the tent’s candle-lit confines. His old friend had an optimistic way about him as always. It had taken three times the population of Mugiba’s able men and mamono to fight and overwhelm the creatures where they’d built their nest. Even then it had been a near thing.

“Sometimes it is said that the wounds from the beasts would tear more than flesh...”, continued Adil, his white teeth gleaming in the candlelight. They had spoken at length then, though Aleksandr spent much of his time listening. The tall dark Order soldier worried enough about the matter for both of them. Aleksandr was at the end of his rope, even if Adil was so hesitant at this possible solution. For those who thought the people of Mugiba rustic, they would view the dwellers of the Mugiban caves as barbarous, savage and foreign. Adil certainly seemed to view the cave-dwellers as apart from the average Mugiban. His words painted them as dangerous and unknowable beings requiring wariness and caution. Adil, who’d continued stabbing a beast as it melted his damn sword and burned his hand seemed… not quite scared, but something close to it. The other soldier’s nerve was as strong as ever, for the muscular black man had offered to accompany Aleksandr to the caves himself, once his current tour of duty ended in 2 months. The pain-riddled soldier could not sit idly for so long with even the slightest hope in sight, no matter how much Adil tried to make his current posting seem hospitable.

The rustic cool northern forest where Adil was posted was probably a goddess-send to a man who’d lived for ages next to a beast-ridden jungle. The other Order soldier spoke of it as such. Aleksandr found it too dreary to wait, despite Adil’s repeated attempts to get him to socialize with the local Holstaurs of his acquaintance. Twirling a cowgirl across a tavern floor became misery when his legs screamed of barbs that had long been removed. Being stifled by the presence of others, pretending that all was well, only make it worse. The placid agreeableness of the muscular and fetching farmgirl hadn’t been a boon under those conditions. Damned if he wanted to quench his ire on such a charming if somewhat dull-witted companion. No matter the appeal of her good natured willingness he’d begged off, claiming the tiresomeness of travel as an excuse. Her drooping ears would have to wait their turn to grate at him, he’d enough on his plate. Even were he not so tormented, the sort of farmgirls who would clearly end up claiming his friend were not really to Aleksandr’s tastes. Where Adil traveled due to necessity, Aleksandr had done so eagerly. Such a sedentary life held little luster, even though he couldn’t fault it. He had begun packing for Mugiba immediately.

It had been strange to see Mugiba now, in its revived state. It was a much larger village than it had been at the Clash where he'd nearly died. The streets were dusty but well laid out, no longer flooded with blood hungry beasts that tore into human and mamono alike with the same gruesomeness. A foreboding filled him as he walked past a few arguing market sellers. A jackfruit selling man and a small tan Danuki were cursing loudly at each other. She stood next to several large baskets of kumquats, and was nonchalantly telling him to engage in a complicated form of homosexual incest while calculating on an abacus. The jackfruit seller, continuing to stack his wares calmly while responding, suggested that she apply the abacus to her genitalia. Neither of them looked up from their work, and the profanity and insults were tacked on at the end of discussions of trade and commerce.

"If my shipment is here then you give it to me or you leave. There will be no extra charge for me. The only extra will be the amount of time you spend fucking yourself on your pile of gold. Go away or give me the kumquats at the first price. If you want to fuck yourself on gold it will not be mine. Go somewhere else to rub your ass with money.", said the jackfruit man, still stacking the large greenish fruits into heaps. The utter calm as they told each other off, not stopping in their work made Aleksandr doubt the foreboding feeling that had only grown as he walked through the sweltering marketplace. The soldier stopped beneath the stalls and purchased a few jackfruits. It was a little disappointing that both stopped arguing as he did. After thanking him and giving him a trio of ripe fruit and some change, the jackfruit vendor suggested that the Danuki could make more money fucking kumquats than arguing with him. Aleksandr walked away laughing with a spring in his step, taking bites of jackfruit. Mugiba had changed, but it could only be for the better after what he’d seen. The custardy taste helped him ignore the niggling feeling as he made his way to the outer edges of the village, towards the caves.

She was as confident on her hooves as ever. Soldiering didn’t automatically make one a good dancer, so Adil N’ait was well aware of how the cowgirl’s finesse made up for his own limited dancing experience. She spun easily at the slightest twist of his wrist, her skilled anticipation nearly flattering to the dark skinned soldier. Feeling bold, the Order soldier drew her into a dip, holding her closely enough that he could feel the softness of her ample breasts and the gentle sweetness of her breath. Her soft peaceful gaze washed over him as the warm sweet gusts of her breathing graced his face. Thankfully, Adil’s strength and stamina were more notable than his dexterity. He was more than up to the task of holding the full figured tavernmaid for extended periods. It seemed forever before the playful swat from her tail cued him to draw them up into a standing posture. The creak of the wooden tavern floor drew him from the deep soft pools of her eyes. Still the relaxed warmth of her seemed to cling to him, the pleasant scent of straw and milk.

He turned towards the sound to see one of the cowgirl’s sisters, two of which worked at their family’s tavern, easily carrying a tray heaped with victuals. The Holst most recently dancing with him gave him another tail swat, as he watched her sister point her shapely round bottom directly at him. Somehow all of them could manage to aim either tail, breasts or behinds at him while going about the usual tasks of tending to the tavern. The friendly tavern-sisters weren’t the only reason Adil found this posting a welcome change from his native Mugiba, even the brisk winter weather was refreshing. The food was excellent, and he’d grown comfortable with how the local customs meshed with service life. The background scent of straw, milk, and food that had become so comfortably familiar to the Order man receded for a moment as his eyes fixed on an empty chair in the corner of the room.

Just last week, the chair had been the preferred spot for his old friend from the Order, Aleksandr. The wiry pale man had visited and talked at length of the aches of his flesh. Aches that had been healed, yet still echoed just as strongly as when the wounds were fresh. Aleksandr had been with him when his village of Mugiba had been attacked by beasts. They’d fought together then and Adil had happily joined the Order that had kept his small home on the map. The beasts had been known to wipe out both men and mamono when they could, more than one small village had been stricken from existence by the predation of the non-sapient abominations. The sporadic letters from home spoke of how the village had grew and was thriving due to the Order’s influence. Adil found pleasure in that, though he found Mugiba growing fuzzier in his mind. His current posting in the Order was so far away, but somehow it felt so perfect for him. He could hardly imagine spending his free time anywhere else.

Aleksandr had a cruel looking smile at the best of times, but that was just the look of the man. Adil had been sure that the locals around his posting would be able to make his dour friend smile like he used to. Adil was so taken by the locals that he assumed Aleksandr would be as well. But no, not even the tavern-sisters could draw a real smile from the man. Even a sincere grin from the vicious looking man was too much to ask, though Aleksandr had done a passable attempt to be polite. Adil had been certain the tavern girls would be impossible to resist, but if not them, then perhaps their cousins...  Adil recalled the hunted despondent look constantly on his friend’s face, one that no amount of good food, drink, or dancing women could dismiss. The pains of the past had been too much for the man, Aleksandr was no longer the patient man he’d once known. So Adil had told him what he could. Of the legends of the cave people, who could twist mind and flesh at a whim. The reminiscing Order man shivered, as goosebumps broke out on his dark flesh. Adil had willing fought abominations and beasts, but those could only kill. The cave-dwellers were different even from the usual mamono of Mugiba, the thousand taboos and fright stories of childhood flickered through his mind.

A less than playful slap from a tail drew him from his reverie. The sisters usually used their tail slaps to flirt and joke with him, but the worry in his latest dance partner’s eyes was thick enough for the Order man to feel. With a half-hearted smile, Adil held out his hand in invitation to another dance. The dancing here was much different that the Mugiban dances he’d known. Still all dances had some similarities so the familiar fun and intimacy was an honest delight to all of them. She scrutinized him skeptically while accepting his hand. The Order soldier did his best to dispel her worry, he’d grown attached to the sisters. Not as attached as Aleksandr had implied, but Adil wouldn’t mind being permanently stationed here.

It would be a month and 3 weeks before Adil could take his leave from his current Order posting. He’d been burning through his work with the Order, and spending every other available moment dancing with the tavernesses. There was no way in hell he’d let Aleksandr face the Mugiban caves alone if he could help it. Damn the man for his impatience, and resistance to sweet rural women. Who could say no to waiting out two months here? Truly, Aleksandr must be deeply ill to not see the charm of this place and its people.

Adil shifted to the three step dance one of her other sisters had shown him. The middle sister, his current partner, apparently knew it. The glint in her eye and the straw tinted musk flowing from her implied that she was well aware that she didn’t teach him this one. Adil grinned, he planned to hold absolutely nothing back from the sisters. How else could he be free to help the friend who’d fought beside him to save his village? No amount of their pleading would fill him with guilt if he did his absolute best with them now, the same for his work with the Order. He would be hard pressed to catch up to the other Order soldier as it was. Thankfully Aleksandr didn’t trust convoys and planar transportation, not even while they served together. The ex-serviceman would avoid the faster planar transportation he’d constantly complained about, now that he was no longer enlisted. All in all, Aleksandr’s superstition would probably only give him a week or two in the Mugiban caves before Adil could catch up. As he thought, Adil shifted the tempo of the dance, treasuring every flush of her pale skin, caress of her strong hands and rumbling half moo drawn from her throat. Each sign of her joy would help him be resolved when his service was up and he’d be free to aid his friend. He’d yet to see any of them cry, but he could already tell that there’d be tears. This time he held her closer as he started the spin, hand sliding across her hip at that point that made this one’s tail twitch...