Chapter Text
“Yes, someone has to distract him,” Hoarah Loux said, with a slight gleam in his eye. Nepheli eyed him suspiciously.
“This seems…unwise,” said his kinswoman.
“Yes, but she is a strong fighter. As is he…” Hoarah Loux eyed the distant figure. As tall or taller than himself, if not as broad. Though perhaps he’d made up for it with the tail…Regardless, his son’s reputation spoke for itself.
The Chieftain of the Badlands glanced at the Tarnished warrior at his side. Who was also watching Morgott intently. And had a rather familiar gleam in her eyes.
Hoarah Loux grinned.
“Yes, off with you!” he chuckled, and nodded in Morgott’s direction. And then smacked her rear, for encouragement. She glared at him.
“Fine,” the Tarnished grumbled. She picked up her greatsword and headed out into the open. “MARGIT!” she yelled. “I’M BACK!”
Hoarah Loux, Warrior, had to restrain a triumphant laugh as his son whirled to face her, and then pounced.
“Their children will be monsters,” he said dreamily, as the confrontation devolved from insults, to flares of gold and flashes of steel, and then to a series of explosions and an avalanche. “No one will be safe!” Nepheli rolled her eyes.
“Do not say that where either of them can hear you,” she muttered.
“I would never,” Hoarah said, the picture of innocence. “I am simply looking out for the future of our clan. And for our Tarnished friend,” he said casually. “No mere mortal will be able to satisfy her. And, sadly, Marika does not share.”
It took Nepheli a few moments, but she got it.
“You did not!” she snapped at him, then glared at the chaos unfolding before their eyes as a chunk of rock the size of her Chieftain hurtled towards them. The two Warriors sidestepped it neatly.
“I did,” he said, with a confused look. “At the Radahn Festival, and…” Hoarah’s face split into a rather wicked grin. “Ah. You were quite distracted, weren’t you?” Nepheli turned pink.
“Shut up,” she muttered.
“I like Tragoth,” he said idly. “Istvan, too…Actually everyone on Tanith’s ‘Must Kill’ list is quite strong.” He nodded firmly. “You should wed all of them.”
Nepheli’s blush deepened…but honestly, Tragoth was honorable, and an excellent fighter with an exceptional, ah, physique. Wedding him and some of his fellow Cooperators wasn’t a terrible idea. But what was unfolding in front of her very eyes almost certainly was .
“HA!” roared her Chieftain, as Morgott tossed the Tarnished over his shoulder, only to immediately drop her when she blasted his tail with black fire. “THAT'S MY BOY!”
The two combatants paused mid-strike. They turned, in unison, and glared daggers at the First Elden Lord. Nepheli gulped.
Yes. This was a terrible idea.
*