While the universe at large was threatened with destruction, the Voidhunters played cards.
"Can one of you gents explain to me how in the Realms Between Parsh gets a good hand every round?" Ren asked. He threw his cards to the table in anger. There was no point in even playing a hand like that, not if he valued his coins…
"Skills," Parsh replied. The smug middle-aged man leaned back in his seat, grinning devilishly as he held his cards in front of his face.
"Maybe you've got bad karma, Ren," Drask said with a shrug. He, on the other hand, was a younger lad filled with youth and hopeful eyes that hadn't yet witnessed the horrors of the Void.
Ren eyed the icon of Eternity hung around Drask's neck with great skepticism. "You know I don't believe in that shit. Besides, we'd all have bad karma," he said. Long enough around here, and you know for certain that God's eyes don't touch these lands.
"You should believe," Drask replied without missing a beat. "Maybe then you wouldn't be broke." The boy just smiled in a sheepish and almost knowing way.
Ren locked eyes with him, but quickly gave up. Those eyes were filled with so much hope that it almost felt corrupting. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the fourth man at the small round table. "Savra. Back me up, will you?"
Savra had been studying his own hand, and looked up as if clueless that he was even playing the game. "I wouldn't know," he said. His head was filled with enough air that he might float away.
Ren sighed. Truly, this was a hopeless bunch. How was it that they were expected to do anything at all, let alone stand between the Void and certain destruction? Even so, he figured that being here at headquarters and playing cards was better than being out there, playing whatever sadistic game the distortions had in mind. Thinking this, and with all eyes on him, Ren shook his head. "I'll write it off just this once. But if you keep winning… We're having a talk." He tried to say it in such a way that made it abundantly clear he would beat Parsh to within an inch of his life.
"If I keep winning, it will be some Mira-blessed good luck," Parsh said in his usual cocky tone. "Why should a man be punished for playing well?"
"You can't playwell in a game of luck, you retarded bastard," Ren growled. "And your God doesn't exist here."
Parsh shot out of his chair and grabbed Ren by the lapel. "You watch your mouth about her! If not for Mira, my family…"
Ren smiled.
Drask was holding Parsh's wrist.
Savra hadn't bothered to move at all.
"He was cheating," a voice said, fairly deep and raspy for a woman. In that instant a presence washed over the table and they all tensed up. It appeared suddenly, like it had simply popped into existence instead of entering the room through a door. She never did know how to make an entrance like a normal person.
Parsh released Ren, wide-eyed. He turned to her and bowed deeply. "Ma'am! I'm so sorry for–"
"Sit your ass down, Parshenam."
"You sly bastard. I'll get you for this," Ren said, slowly taking his seat again. As he did so, Parsh held his gaze as if to say 'I blame this on you'. Ren just stared back harder. Keep quiet. We're all fucked, you idiot!
"To what do we owe the pleasure, lady Medeara?" Drask asked, gripping the idol of Voidra.
Belleram Medeara stood there surveying them with her usual stern expression. The leader of the Realmguard, the Unknown Master. No one had ever managed to defeat her in a duel, which was quite the point of contempt for a lot of the men around, including Ren. She wore nothing but a white tunic and black pants with boots that nearly went up to the knees. At her hip was a sheathed sabre, and she didn't seem to be carrying anything else. Despite her apparent lack of gear, she was drenched in blood and had tracked it across the floor on the way in.
Ren's group was the only one in the rec hall at this hour, and so they'd be the main target for whatever came next.
Belleram pushed a brown strand of hair from her face. "It's all hands on deck. There's three active distortions and a new one just showed up on Mirris V." She studied the group with angry eyes. "Clive didn't give you booze, did he? I told him not to."
"And we've been miserable for it, ma'am," Ren noted.
"I suspect you'll find this misery incomparable to what'll happen if you don't get up and moving, Ren." Belleram pointed to the door. When no one responded, she just raised a brow. "What are you waiting for?"
After a few moments of silence, Savra huffed. "It's our day off, ma'am."
Belleram shifted her gaze to Savra, looking puzzled. "Day off?" She said it like it was a concept she'd heard of just then. "If only the distortions took a day off. Our men are dying out there while you loaf around." Looking over the group of stooges, she gave a disappointed sigh. "Listen– I wouldn't be so hard on you all if you'd at least met your quota."
Ren, trying desperately to save the situation, took the dialogue upon himself. "The month ain't over yet! We'll meet the quota ma'am, I swear it!"
"Really," Belleram said dryly. "You mean to tell me you'll be able to clear two distortions before the clock strikes midnight in…" She checked her pocket watch. "Two hours?"
Rats. He'd been drinking himself so silly that the rest of the month had slipped him by. Was it really the last day of the month? In that case, even scum like Ren was forced to concede that he deserved whatever came next. He just looked down at his boots in shame.
Belleram pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. She remained in this pose for a long while. "You're all fired," she eventually said.
"What!?" Parsh was the first one to boom out, shooting out of his seat.
"You're all fired," she repeated. "Empty your quarters and go."
Ren stammered over his words in shock. "Ma'am… Aren't you always going on about how we're short on manpower!? Surely you can't–"
"The Realmguard is short on hard-working manpower, sure." She put up a hand to silence Ren as he spoke. "Seems to me like you're contributing to the problem whether you're here or gone."
"But ma'am–"
"You're done, Ren. All of you."
The group was stunned. After saying her piece, Belleram gave a humph, then turned around and stormed out of the hall. They were left in utter confounded silence.
"That went well, all things considered," Drask eventually said. "I half expected someone to lose a head."
"I think I'll be going now," Parsh said with a shaky voice. He attempted to stand up, but was held back as Ren grabbed his coattails.
"Hold on, cheater boy." Ren said. "We need to have a talk."
"I didn't cheat!" Parsh said immediately. "Back me up here you two!"
Drask was already standing up and getting ready to leave. "May Eternity save you," he said.
Savra, who didn't even seem to care that he'd been fired, set a hand on Parsh's shoulder. "I'm going to find some booze. Come find me if you survive."
"You guys…" Parsh said.
Ren cracked his knuckles. "Don't look so nervous. I just want to talk."
Ren was the first to notice the body.
They'd been walking through a field to the North of Realmhome, feeling dejected. Ren and his friends were determined to freeload and perhaps start their own mercenary company after getting thrown out of Realmguard headquarters. Hell, maybe they could just go home. They'd signed the contract to turn over their void energy, so there was no reason to stick around other than the pay or the rush. Ren wasn't psycho enough to risk it for either of those things. The booze back home was cheaper and better than here.
When he spotted Frost against the tree, he was going to turn away and encourage the others to keep moving. Why was it that he got a strange feeling of foreboding? In what looked like a dead body he saw… Change. An ominous aura was emanating from the body, and yet he moved towards it. He was the first one to do so, his legs moving faster than he'd intended as if an invisible force was pulling him. Before he knew it, he was standing over him.
"What the hell's gotten into you?" Parsh asked. He was the first one to catch up with all of the nimbleness of a skilled card cheater. His face was already showing bruises, and he was about one tooth short. Ren had been fairly forgiving this time.
Drask joined them. He was frowning and clutching the icon around his neck. Savra strolled up from behind with his hands in his pockets and looking uninterested; he usually didn't care for much but booze and food.
Ren considered his words for a long moment under Parsh's gaze. "He's bleeding," he eventually said. "Drask. Heal him, will you?"
"What in the Realm Between has gotten into you?" Parsh grabbed Ren's arm tightly as he questioned him.
Ren shook it off. "You'd rather I leave him here to die? Look at him. He's only a kid."
"We don't know who this kid is. A kid can be deadly around here." Parsh advocated for the death of this random person like his life depended on it.
Ren just shot him a harsh gaze. "We're Realmguard. How about we act like it, just this once. I have a good feeling."
"Ah." Parsh stepped back with a chuckle, throwing his hands in the air sarcastically. "Ren's got a good feeling, everyone! Time to act like good people, something we've never done… Sweet Mira." He rubbed his face with one of his hands and then spun on his heel to walk down the small hill they were standing upon.
"And where will you be heading, oh great one?" Ren asked.
"To get a drink," Parsh grumbled.
[Drask Matreya is activating an attribute: Divine grace]
Drask held out his hands. A fine mist coursed from his palms and drifted gently through the air. As if manipulated by the wind, it spun and coalesced around the boy. Ren had watched this attribute save more lives than he could count by now. Even if he wasn't exactly a humanitarian, Ren was glad to have someone around who would indulge him when the mood struck.
"Surely you aren't just doing this for the hell of it?" Savra asked. He only agreed with whatever caused him the least amount of work possible, or whatever allowed him to make gains without lifting a finger. Lazy bastard.
Ren smiled, though. After all, Savra was the first and only person to catch onto his true purpose. He wouldn't just save someone for the hell of it, in fact. No, Ren was a scumbag through and through. He only joined the Realmguard to save his own skin, and the way he made decisions in the rest of his life was on a similar basis. His next move was obvious, as he watched the boy's wounds repairing themselves.
"Help me carry him," Ren said, "and you'll get a share of whatever the slavers buy him for."