Cult Of The Moon Goddess PT2-2

 Heya! Merc here with the second and final part of Farah's encounter with the moon Goddess cult. Read and enjoy!  

Farah was in the grand hall showing off the jade idol to Henrick and Hansel.

“Neither of you said a thing about Golems! That was a nasty surprise, so I’ll be taking those gold nuggets,” Farah grumbled.

Henrick started to say something but was cut off by Farah.

“This idol better fetch me a good price!”

“Hansel, would you please grab the bag of nuggets so our… guest can be on her way.”

Hansel bowed and started to scamper off when he suddenly stopped. “Lord Henrick,” he called.

“What?”

“Outside! They’re outside.”

Farah and Henrick glanced out a window to see dozens of black robed figures moving in on the house.

“How did those idiots follow us here,” Farah asked.

Henrick growled, “They must have figured I sent you. My hatred for them is well known.”

“Well, I’m out of here,” Farah declared as she ran for the back door.

Henrick was raging behind her, “Let them come! I’ll give them the taste of my messer before this night is over! This old soldier still has fire in his veins!”

The wolf lord had a large broad bladed sword in his hands, the blade was slightly curved and a cross guard protected the hands.

Henrick shouted after Farah.

“Thief! Get Hansel out of here!”

“Sure, I know how to make an escape,” Farah called back.

She spotted the young wolf with his crossbow coming out of his quarters.

The ferret grabbed his arm, “Come on kid. We’re getting out of here!”

Hansel shrugged her off, “I can fight!”

“It’s a losing battle! Come on,” Farah argued.

Just then there was the sound of wood splintering as cultists broke through doors and windows.

“No form, just brute force. I can at least be quiet when breaking into a home,” Farah griped.

Four cultists ran down the hall at the two, each armed with the wicked looking daggers. Hansel fired his crossbow and struck one down. Farah sighed as she drew her shortsword and rushed to meet the remaining three.

The ferret struck out and caught one in the leg, as the wolf went down she stepped forward and slashed his back. She twisted away from a thrust for her stomach and drove her pommel into a wolf’s snout, followed immediately by her own thrust. Farah’s blade found its mark. The last cult member stepped forward with an under hand cut for the ferret’s torso. Deftly, Farah deflected the blade with her sword and then stepped forward and drove her ankle into the kneecap of her attacker.

As the wolf went down Farah drove her sword down and ended him.

She turned back to Hansel, “I’m not sticking my neck out for stupidity! Let’s go! It’s your master’s wish that you live.”

As if that were a cue Henrick ran towards them, his sword bloodied. “Save yourselves, I’ll hold them off.”

“Whatever you say Cap,” Farah remarked.

At least six cultists were coming from both sides. Farah flung out her darts and hit two who quickly began to succumb to the sedative. Hansel fired his crossbow again and took one through the leg. The rest fell on Henrick who growled and slashed with his sword.

Farah grabbed Hansel’s arm and tugged him away, as Henrick fought on. They darted down a side hall when Farah groaned. Two cultists barred her way, but worse still the thudding of heavy feet sounded behind them as the golems from the temple made their presence known.

“Oh, not these guys too. Ugh,” Farah grumbled as she and Hansel ran.

The young wolf ducked under a cultists arms and slid between one of the golem’s legs. Farah moved to follow suit as she chopped one of the cultist’s legs with the hand axe before dodging around the golems. Farah was home free. Until she felt something clamp around her ankle and she found herself hurled against the wall.

“Ooof,” Farah grunted as the wind was knocked out of her and her weapons fell from her grip.

Suddenly the ferret felt a giant hand clasp her wrists together and she was hauled up off the floor.

“You boys play rough,”  she grumbled as she found herself in a golem’s grip. She twisted and kicked but it was no use.

A commanding voice reverberated through the halls.

“Forget the boy! We have the lord and the thief.”

Farah looked to see the white furred priestess striding towards her.

“Oh, hi there. Did you lose something,” Farah asked.

The wolf grinned showing a maw of sharp teeth in response.  “Not anymore. You are a fool to have stolen from the children of the Goddess. You shall pay dearly.”

Farah yawned, “Uh huh.”

The priestess cocked an ear back. “Not afraid? I’ll fix that, but first that yawn means you must be terribly tired. Here go to sleep.”

With that the priestess blew some kind of powder into Farah’s face.

“What the… what… the…,” Farah suddenly felt herself succumbing to sleep.

The priestess grinned at the unconscious thief. “Excellent. We shall have a sacrifice.”    

**

Farah moaned as she came to. She shook her head as the drug waned away from her mind. A cold breeze ruffled her fur and Farah realized where she was. She was back on the roof of the temple, she tried to stand up only to realize she was in a square metal cage. Looking down she realized her weapons and gear had been taken from her, she was dressed only in a white chemise.

The cage was set upon a pyre of logs and the cultists surrounded Farah. Lord Henrick was among the crowd, his hands bound behind his back and forced in a kneeling position. His head was bloody from a wound, and the two golems were at the rear of the crowd. The idol that had caused so much trouble sat upon an altar overlooking the pyre and positioned in a way that the moon was just above it.

The priestess approached Farah. “Good, you have awakened.”

Farah looked down at the priestess. “You had my clothes changed while I was asleep? That’s beyond creepy. Also, I have to say this outfit isn’t my style.”

“You shall go to our goddess presentable,” the priestess smirked.

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not exactly a pure soul.”

“That matters little. The flames shall purify you and the winds will carry your ashes to serve the moon goddess.”

Farah smirked, “Ooh, uh, yeah. I’ve never been the servant type. Too much sass, you know? So you’d probably just anger your goddess sacrificing me.”

The priestess ignored her and spread her arms wide while gazing at the moon, “Hear our prayer. Tonight we give to you an unworthy soul, we surrender her to your judgment so that you may use her for your bidding. This soul has sinned against you by snatching your idol. We send her to meet you.”

Despite her bravado, Farah’s heart was racing. She always knew fear and as a thief accepted that one day her luck could run out. The hangman’s noose or executioner’s axe was a constant threat, but being burned alive as a sacrifice was not how she wanted to go.

“Light the pyre,” the priestess called.

“Bastards,” Farah muttered as torches were lowered to the pyre. The smell of burning wood filled her nostrils as smoke began to rise up around her. The priestess had strode to Henrick and tilted his chin up.

“Look, look upon your failure.”

Farah bared her teeth, but then her eyes travelled past the crowd to see one wolf who just didn’t seem to fit. He was younger and carried a crossbow.

Hansel! Farah thought.

She saw the young wolf take aim, apparently at her.

He means to kill me? Of course a crossbow bolt through the chest is far more merciful than burning.

Farah stood still ensuring he’d hit her. Hansel fired. But instead of feeling a bolt in her breast Farah had a clanging sound as the bolt lodged itself in the cage lock.

“Clever boy,” Farah smirked as she grabbed the shaft and worked against the lock. Moments later she swung the cage door open and leapt out. Her lungs were already crying for air and the flames were getting uncomfortably close.

The cultists had been gripped in confusion, some went to grab Hansel while others tried to stop Farah. The ferret landed with both her feet into the chest of a wolf, sending it to the ground. Farah snatched a torch from one of the stunned cultists and promptly bashed him with the brand. The wolf howled as his robes caught fire.

“Ha! Scary robes aren’t so great now are they,” Farah mocked.

She kept the cultists at bay with the torch but she noticed the golems closing in on her. Farah’s mind was racing.

How do you defeat a golem again? Oh that’s right!

Farah lured them closer to the pyre which was blazing high by that point. As one of the golems lunged for her, Farah ducked below the arm stepped forward and lashed out with her torch. There was a dry cracking sound as hardened clay broke. The torch had smashed the muzzle of the statue. A small scroll flew away and landed in the pyre. The golem fell backward, now but a lifeless shell. The statue crashed into its companion and both landed in the pyre sending burning logs scattering into the cultists. There were screams and the smells of burnt hair.

The top of the temple had turned into complete chaos. Farah was darting among the confused cultists lashing out with her torch.

“Miss Farah,” a voice called.

She turned to see Hansel toss her a familiar weapons belt.

Farah smile as she pulled her short sword free. She spied Henrick fighting a cultist and tossed him her hand axe. The former soldier grinned as he quickly dispatched his foe. Working with one another Farah and Henrick fought their way through the cultists, dodging their wicked knives and striking at any dark shapes.

The scattered pyre logs were suddenly thrown up as the second golem rose from the fire. Its clay body was blackened and cracked by the heat, one of its ears was missing. Cultists screamed as burning, rolling, logs were amongst them. The stench of burnt fur became thick in the air.

The temple top soon scattered all but the most loyal of cultists as the massive golem thudded its way towards Farah and Henrick.

“I hate golems,” Farah growled.

Henricks ears twitched, “It’s brittle now.”

With a howl the wolf charged for the automaton ducking an arm swing he struck for the leg with the axe. There was the sound of a pot breaking as a chunk of the golem’s leg came away, the thing buckled and went down on one knee. Coming up behind the golem the wolf hacked away at the neck, chunks of pottery flying off with every strike.

The head fell off, but the Golem swatted the wolf away with a backhand able to function without a head.

“The scroll you need to destroy the scroll,” Farah called.

The golem placed its foot on Henrick’s chest and began to slowly crush him.

“Like this,” Farah shouted as she chucked the head off of the rooftop. There was a dull crash from below and the headless clay statue fell over.    

“Fine work,” Henrick said dusting himself off.

The temple top seemed deserted of enemies as he glanced around. Farah meanwhile was helping herself to the troublesome idol.

“Where is Hansel,” Henrick asked.

“Here,” a voice cried out.

The two turned to see the young wolf in a headlock. The priestess pulling him along with a dagger in her other hand.

“Stop struggling boy,” she sneered.

“Hansel,” Henrick cried out.

“Better let him go,” Farah advised.

“I don’t think so,” The priestess growled. “Give me my idol back and maybe this boy will yet grow to be a man.”

Hansel struggled, “Don’t do it! She’s a no good…”

“Shh,” the priestess said as she put a bit of pressure against the blade.

The brave pup winced.

“Alright, let him go,” Henrick relented.

“No,” Hansel shouted. “My lord… don’t trade for me.”

Henrick sighed, “I have to Hansel. You are all I have left in this world. You are the closest I have to a son. I can’t bear to lose you.”

Farah smirked, “Aww, that’s so sweet.”

“Yes, quite touching. So hand over the idol or I’ll spill his blood in the name of my goddess.”

Farah walked forward with the idol in her hand, “Same time and no tricks. You give up Hansel. I’ll give this to you. All on the count of three.”

“Agreed,” the priestess smirked.

“One,” Farah counted.

She and the priestess locked eyes.

“Two.”

The fingers shifted on the dagger at Hansel’s throat.

“Three,” Farah shouted.

The priestess threw Hansel to the ground as she raised the dagger. At the same time Farah tossed the idol over towards the edge of the temple.

“No,” The priestess shouted as she tried to grab the idol. It slipped past her flailing hand.

“NO!” She screamed louder as she suddenly lost her balance and toppled from the ledge to the ground below.

Farah ran over to the edge and looked down, she could see the crumpled body below unmoving.

“What a fall,” She smirked. “No trees on that end of the temple you flea-hag!”

Henrick was holding Hansel close to him, both had tears in their eyes.

“Okay, if you guys are crying, I’m out of here,” Farah smirked. “After I get my payment.”

**

Farah had tossed the idol away into the river. It just wasn’t worth all the blood and trouble. Plus there was a high probability that it was cursed. Well it could just stay at the bottom of the river and get covered in silt for all she cared.

It didn’t really matter, she had plenty of money already. The gold from Henrick and the loot from her last heist would do her well. Besides, she wasn’t a thief for the money, it was the thrill of it. As things were, Farah had definitely had met her quota of thrills for a time.

Now it was time to spend her loot and make merry. That is until she got bored again.

Original Story: Cult of the Moon Goddess PT2 Of 2 by MercenaryBlade on DeviantArt