Once more, cruel fate saw fit to clamjam Drell.

A ridge she crested in lazy pursuit of the kobold, and found a quarry she did not wish to pursue at that moment. Walls of orange wood surrounded a small encampment nestled within the shifting sands. Heavy cloth tents sat in the shade of wooden towers that peered into the rolling waves of sand below.

The listening post was overrun.

A groan rose to her throat as she lamented the time they had wasted to haul supplies across the sandsea for a post that no longer had need of them.

To her immense disappointment and the utter ruination of her day, there was no horde to greet her either. A few scavengers dug through the sand-blown tents, oblivious to her presence. The scaled form she had crossed the dunes in pursuit of vanished through an open gate at speeds which those short legs should not have been able to achieve.

A growl of utter fury prised itself from her throat as Drell sheathed her battleaxe. She would find no worthy battle here on this blasted day. The Thrones Above saw fit to dangle teasing promises before her, only to be yanked away once she drew near.

With disgust writ upon her features, the slayer turned away from the broken camp and stomped back across the dunes, roiling heat her only company. She was…sulking, Drell realised. Bitterness thrashed to the forefront of her emotions as she contemplated what could have been. Her, alone amidst a sea of scales and spears, axe in hand and a battle-roar upon her lips as she faced the mightiest horde of kobolds this wretched land had ever clapped eyes upon. The lone wanderer against impossible odds, only to emerge victorious from the mountains of her dead enemies.

A rock met its dream of flying across the horizon as Drell lashed out with a frustrated kick. Her shoulders slumped and a sigh escaped her throat. She was betrayed by the gods, yes, but also for the best, perhaps. Many though they might be, kobolds posed no threat to her, and they would break and run long before she could pile corpses onto mountains. Opponents so weak were not a worthy battle.

She was Drell’akosha Demonsbane, and she had not earned that title by running down small lizardmen who dreamed of becoming dragons.

Veska found her sulking to be amusing.

“You realise most sensible mortals would be ecstatic that there was not a horde just over the horizon?” She mused with a knowing smile. “Danger and uncertainty are perhaps not lovers that people long after?”

“Stuff it,” Drell grunted. “I had one good chance for a proper romp today and it vanished after getting me all excited and bothered.”

“A wiser woman might not hope for the worst in every creature she encounters.”

Drell threw the smirking succubus a sideways look and sighed, her day ruined.

“Now what? The post is deserted. We lack directions to continue, and these supplies have no destination to be delivered upon.”

“Unless you have a great wish to turn back and make the arduous journey back with our steeds and supplies, we should at least press on to the outpost and survey whatever waits for us.” Veska suggested.

“I find no flaw with this.” Drell begrudgingly admitted.

With a grunt, she hauled herself back onto her mount and spurred it forward.

The listening post lay empty saved for the few kobolds that still scampered about. The pair rode into the open gates, presence undisputed. Drell noted the lack of burnt buildings and broken doors, the usual signs of a raid. The inhabitants had not been driven out by force then. With little other information forthcoming, she slid from her steed and stalked through the tents.

Morilath had sent her to deliver the contents of her packsleds and acquire directions from those who were supposed to be keeping watch here, and she intended to fulfill that mission. A scaled form burst from beneath a flap of cloth as Drell approached, and the adventuress struck like greased lightning.

A kobold squirmed within her grasp as she hauled it up to eye level and flatly stared at the creature. It spouted obscenities at her, demanding to be released and faced in honourable combat.

Unimpressed, Drell reached up and slapped it across the face.

“Cease your prattling.” She growled.

It obliged.

“The truth, or I will feed you to the vultures,” She warned, deadly serious. “What happened to those who stood watch here?”

The little lizard-thing chewed over its words for a moment, still squirming in her grasp.

“They ran, yes-yes.” It muttered. “Left behind much goodies, mmmm-mhmm.”

Drell raised a single skeptical eyebrow.

“What in the Battle-Goddess’s name would inspire full members of the House of Blades to abandon their posts without so much as a fight?”

“That.”

The Kobold pointed over Drell’s shoulder and the orc turned, her gaze sliding over the horizon, following the creature’s scaly finger.

For a heartbeat she stood still, frozen, the Kobold held at arm’s length as she comprehended.

Giddy was the smile that snuck across her lips. With a roar of ecstatic laughter Drell tossed the kobold aside and drew her axe.

“Do the gods not reward their faithful?!” She roared heavensward.

A behemoth stalked silently across the dunes, a massive creature of sinuous muscle and bone. A mane of fiery crimson spilled from its neck. Obsidian horns curled upon a great armored head. Even in the distance, it was a magnificent sight. In a world infested by magic and corruption, the Behemoths were creatures of pure, unbridled strength. And now, one walked before her. The gods had not gifted her a horde to slay. Instead, a far greater gift they had bequeathed upon Drell.

Eyes wide in sheer happiness and an euphoric grin upon face, Drell walked from the abandoned encampment, arms spread in adulation and worship of the Thrones Above. Truly, they were merciful gods, to deliver her from this soul-crush of boredom.

The succubus sighed as she watched the orc charge off across the dunes once more, the task at hand wholly ignored. Her eyes were beginning to open as to how and why Drell retained so little coin despite frequently undertaking dangerous quests with massive bounties, as per her own boasts. The orc positively lusted for battle with an intensity that would make succubi proud of the sheer single-minded thirst.

It was magnificent, Drell admitted in awe as she bounded across the sand. Pride and supreme arrogance radiated from the monster, an unshakable surety that it was the master of all it surveyed. Muscle rippled through a massive body and claws gouged the ground as it moved upon four legs.

Air and pressure struck the orc like a physical blow, all else drowned away as the behemoth roared. Clear warning to all that dared to defy its will and stand before its presence.

It only excited Drell more.

The energy-axe burned red smoke, called to life once more by its master's will. Her own challenge roared back in return, Drell'akosha dug her feet into the treacherous terrain beneath and leapt over the final dune that separated her from the most legendary battle she would find this week.

A claw larger than her body swung around to greet her. Drell twisted her body midair, and narrowly avoided the talons that brushed past. Her axe swung wildly and grazed a lengthy path along the creature's steel muscles.

Sand shifted and threatened to send her sprawled before the beast as Drell landed. The orc stumbled, swore and threw herself aside as obsidian horns and rows of fangs filled her vision. This time, her axe opened a furrow below the behemoth's eye as it passed.

Massive black bulk squatted down as Drell rolled beneath the creature, axe aimed to open its belly. The world ceased to exist as pure noise drowned out every sense she possessed. Stunned for a heartbeat, she stood frozen as the behemoth exploded upwards. Its sinuous bulk twisted in the air, coming to land almost gracefully as Drell shrugged off the roar’s shock.

Hatred burned within its golden eyes, contempt at the insect before it. And yet it prowled at distance now, wary of letting the orc draw close, lest she slip inside its guard once more. Drell stalked forward, consumed by glorious battle-fervor. The wicked smile upon her face only widened as the Behemoth carefully paced to keep distance between the two.

Said smile faltered only slightly as realization snapped into her mind. All but hidden in the harsh sunlight, white smoke curled skyward from between the beast’s clench fangs. Languid pursuit fully abandoned, Drell sprinted for all she was worth, muscles afire. The orc bounded across the sands, axe raised.

Time was not sided with her in this conflict, she realized. Pale smoke more obvious now, the behemoth moved far slower, yet still lumbered away, a vicious glee within its movements. With a vague curse, Drell landed, lashed out and hurled the axe with all her might.

It saved her life.

The beast twisted aside to avoid the axe that would have otherwise embedded itself within its skull. The silver cone of destruction it let rage against the world only tore apart the dunes adjacent to Drell, and not the orc herself. It was now in a superior position, despite having expended its breath attack. The orc was unarmed, and the mighty creature had no need for such petty things as weapons.

It stepped over Drell’s axe, its massive bulk between the slayer and her weapon. The cruel smile upon Drell’akosha’s lips heralded it’s grave mistake. Hand outstretched, the orc called beckoned. Ever faithful, it responded to the master’s call.

Crimson smoke and black blood filled the air. The axe exploded from where it lay and shot towards Drell in a red blur. The behemoth’s foreleg stood in its path for but a heartbeat, then it stood no more.

Her weapon slammed into an awaited grasp, and the behemoth bellowed in pain for the first time.

It’s foreleg hung half-severed, the axe having cleaved through hide and muscle without resistance. It stared at Drell with a baleful hatred that promised to snuff her life. She only grinned in response. A grin that faded as the behemoth suddenly turned and loped away across the dunes.

Eyes wide with fury as she witnessed this cowardice, the orc roared and gave chase. Yet even injured, the beast covered far more ground than her. And soon it was gone, vanished across the rolling mountains of sand, a trail of spilled blood to guide her.

So focused was she that Veska went wholly unnoticed until she swooped down, grabbed Drell and hauled her skyward. Elation filled the orc as she reckoned they could now cover ground much faster in pursuit. Elation fled her once she realized they were going the wrong way.

“Cowardice!” She howled in fury. “Release me and I will finish the craven beast!”

She could almost hear Veska’s eyes roll as they soared along.

“Oh yes,” The succubus demurred. “How dare a creature do the sensible thing as flee a pointless quarrel where its survival was uncertain and it stood to gain nothing by continuing a directionless dispute to likely die without any meaning.”

“Exactly!” Drell raged as she squirmed in Veska’s grasp. “Dishonourable worm!!” She bellowed across the dunes.

“While you attended to the disturbance of a beast minding its own business, I collected information as to our destination.” Veska frankly informed Drell as the orc hung beneath her, rather cross. “The Kobolds were more than happy to volunteer the information as to where this dungeon was located. I even secured a blood promise that they would deliver our steeds and supplies back to the city.”

“Fine. How did I ever manage without you?” Drell sighed.

Veska simply shrugged, an impressive feat when in consideration that she was carrying a fully-grown orc halfbreed.

“I wonder that myself.”