The huge, wrought gold gates that marked the entrance to the Von’Faygan estate sparkled so brightly in the morning sun; it was difficult to discern whether or not they were real or a desert mirage. The dizzying effect helped none by the waves of heat that rose from the reddish-orange sands of the desert, to distort the immense structure even further.

Tayne Blinked as he shook his head in a futile attempt to wipe away the illogical vision that stood before him. Surely no one can have that much money? Strangely, the gates didn’t vanish as expected, but continued to grow larger as they trudged forward through the hot sand. Thorne’s blue eyes locked to Tay’s bare feet as they strode over the sandy dunes, an expression of wonder seemingly locked in place as it had been for the past mile or so. Thorne started as he realised his gaze had been noticed, his face suddenly a shade darker as he blushed in embarrassment.

“Your feet, they do not burn?” The knight queried, strangely without any form of belittlement… It seemed a genuine question rather than a way to rub it in Tay’s face that he didn’t own any shoes.

“Uh…” Tayne had been barefoot for as long as he could remember, even when he had had the money to buy some footwear, his purse full after a good nights gamble, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. In fact, now that he thought about it, he seemed to have a severe distaste for any form of footwear. Quickly, the degenerate realised he had lost himself to thought and completely ignored the, potentially most deadly man he had ever come into contact with, completely. Tay shrugged and began to reply, his heart rate rose rapidly as he began to panic. His thoughts tumbled one over another as he desperately searched for an excuse that wouldn’t give away quite how pathetic he really was.

Luckily, the beautiful rich girl that strode along beside him, saved him from the need to use his brain any further. A welcome relief, as it had actually begun to hurt.

“The man just took out the most dangerous person in Sulpi unarmed, and you’re worried about his feet?” She laughed a beautiful little laugh that sounded half like a giggle and half a hiccup. Thorne’s eyebrows rose in contemplation of what she had just said, still the look of confusion remained. “Anyway, It’s obviously some form of warrior’s pain training. Right?” Amelia’s huge stormy eyes landed back on Tay’s own, a small bit of her lip held between her teeth absently. absent or not, the effect devastated the hungover gambler; blood started to rush down south again as he stared into her eyes, her ample breast heaved up and down within the desert style corset she wore, the swells emphasised as the pressure of the garment pushed them upwards to burst over the top of the fabric like two perfect mountains of flesh.. Dear Tarran…

“Right…” Tay replied without thought, well. Not without thought as he was most definitely thinking about something, although that something involved a lot of sweaty flesh. None of which being feet. Tay leant forward awkwardly in a feeble attempt to disguise the slight tent that had begun to grow around the crotch area of his filthy trousers.

“I admire your conviction.” Thorne’s words roughly yanked the degenerate back from his erotic fantasy. Tay’s head snapped towards the warrior in panic. Please Tarran; please don’t say the bloody Blood Thorne just watched me eye fuck his niece. Thorne met his gaze with a smile. Phew. Strangely, even some of the previous uncertainty had dissolved at Amelia’s explanation. Apparently, a warrior’s conviction was something the man could relate to, the excuse had somehow forged the foundations of some kind of warriors trust between the two. Shame it’s bullshit. Tay coughed to cover the giggle that escaped before he could surpress it. Get your shit together Tayne.

“Thank you.” Again the voice emerged in the drunk’s interpretation of a posh voice, paired with as serious a face as he could muster.

“Where are you from Sir Tay? I don’t believe I recognise that accent. Dagonian maybe?” Dagonia? He thinks I’m a Tarran damned warrior monk? Tayne stole a quick look down over his bare chested body. Ah… The warrior monk caste of the Dagonian wastes were renown for there fighting ability, followers of the Dagonian god of war, Kironyte. They lived in monasteries atop the jungle infested mountains of the Dagonian planes, their life spent training, day in day out, completely secluded from the outside world. So secluded, in fact; that barely a person alive knows their true appearance… The only thing that people seemed to agree on was that they held no materialistic possessions and fought unarmed. Ain’t no monk Mr Thorne, just poor M’afraid. Tay nearly snorted at the thought again. Instead, his usual bleary eyed look focused into one of intense concentration, palms rose up to meet flat handed with the fingers pointed upwards as if in prayer before he bent at the middle in a half bow.

“My lord knows his speakens truly well.” Tay’s posh voice was beginning to grate on even his own ears.

“Truly?” Thorne’s sapphire blue eyes widened in astonishment, his mouth half agape. Tayne slowly inclined his head the barest of fractions, as if in acknowledgement of the Lord’s question. “we must spar!” the charming grin shot back across the warriors face as he stepped forward toward Tay, a gauntleted hand slammed roughly into the drunk’s upper back, obviously meant as a friendly gesture, but damn near snapped his spine.

“My Lord is to kind. Unfortunately the secrets of Kironyte are denied use, unless in Battle of course.” Tayne intoned through gritted teeth as he waited for the pain to subside. Bloody bones on fire, how did I come up with that? The self congratulative thought sprung to the forefront of his mind as Tay battled with a victorious smile.

“Of course Lord Tay. I must admit I am dissapointed, but I respect and honour your traditions.” Tayne nodded to the Knight somewhat haughtily.

“Uncle!” the urgency in Amelia’s voice caused both men to spin immediately around, the movement so abrupt that a cloud of sand rose in the wake of their boot(less)s. The beautiful girl stood stricken with fear, her pale hand pointed off to the side with a single manicured finger extended. Tayne followed her gaze… and nearly wet himself. Two great desert wolves bounded straight for them, yellowed fangs bared viciously as they snarled their intent.

“I guess I’ll get to see some of your secrets after all Lord Tay!” The madman laughed in good humour as he drew the huge sword from it’s equally huge scabbard. Look what you’ve gone and done you idiot. The panic began to build at such a speed that all other thoughts were immediately wiped out, his bladder suddenly felt ready to burst. Fuck this. Tayne’s survival instinct kicked in and he was off.

“That’s the spirit!” Roared Thorne as he pounded on past Tay, his colossal sword held high above his head as his booted feet kicked up a storm of orange sand in his wake. What the hell? Tayne looked up. Dammit. In his panic, the only thing he had thought was “Run”. Unfortunately, his legs didn’t seem to be as smart as his thinkbox, as the direction they had obeyed the order, was directly towards the oncoming, small-pony size, man eating wolves. One had split from the other to flank the two men; Thorne had veered off to confront this one before it was at their back. With another roar, his great blade flashed through the air.

Suddenly, the half-naked drunk’s line of sight was obscured by a huge bulk of shaggy brown fur. A low growl rumbled in the wolf’s throat as it eyed him up hungrily.

“Good doggy… gooood doggy….”

With a howl, the wolf was on him; claws painfully pressed against his chest as it pinned him to the sand. The great beast leant back, its muzzle pointed towards the bright blue sky as a wild howl let rip. Tay’s arms flailed about his body in a frenzied panic as his hands desperately searched for something to use as a weapon. Come on… Come on… Anything. Nothing. Well nothing but a damn pebble. Well, that’s it then. I’m done. The direwolf lowered its red eyed gaze down to meet the eyes of it’s prey, as if in taunt. Tay’s leg grew warm as the wolf growled once more; the stench of his own urine filled his nostrils. As a final act of defiance and a pathetic one at that; Tayne clenched his hand around the small stone he had found on the floor next to him, and with all of his might, launched the pebble, right at the creature’s muzzle.

Amazingly, in this exact moment, the wolf’s jaws parted as it prepared for the kill; the small rock flew between the two rows of razor sharp teeth and continued onwards into the gullet of the powerful animal. The growl stopped immediately, it’s red eyes widened in surprise. A noise similar to that of a cat, mid attempt at dislodging a fur ball, began to emerge from the wolf’s mouth. Then a whimper as the canine blinked rapidly, its chest begun to heave up and down. What? This continued for another minute or so, until suddenly; the large creature dropped bodily forwards. It’s huge bulk covered the poor man completely, too heavy to budge. In fact, the weight was so great; Tayne realised he was about to lose consciousness. The darkness had already begun to seep in from the corners of his vision.

Suddenly he was weightless. The bright light of Tarran’s garden almost blinding as the giant brown wolf vanished. One of the Lord’s disciples extended an arm, fingers outstretched to help him up. Tay smiled dreamily as he grasped the proffered appendage and allowed the disciple to haul him to his feet.

“Lord Tay!” Huh? “Incredible!” What? Tayne blinked as he sucked in a deep breath. Slowly, the image of the disciple faded and unblurred. Thorne. The man stood before him, a jovial expression on his face, almost that of childish glee. “I never would have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes!” What in the name of Tarran is he on about? “Bare handed!” The knight cursed in excitement. “How! How did you do it?” Thorne barely paused before he answered his own question. “Sorry, sorry, I know. Secrets and all that. But really, just wow.” The blonde warrior slid a plated arm over Tay’s shoulder as he led him towards the gate; a number of Von’Faygan guards pelted the ground with speed as they made their way towards them, evidently alerted to the wolves, but too late in their arrival. What the hell happened? Tay stole a glance behind himself as they strode lazily towards the great gates. The huge brown wolf lay on its side, unmoving and lifeless. Crimson eyes still open wide with shock. Well I’ll be fucked. What are the chances? Choked to death. A cold breeze made Tay suddenly very aware of the wet patch that lined the inner side of his left leg. Shit. The drunk had pissed himself with fear.

“Bastard pissed on me.” He mumbled awkwardly as they continued on through the grand gates.