No Pain for Fiends

[Strazio Rockwell]

Already the perpetually-agitated mage was regretting his decision to take the clown as his apprentice. Asides from an unwillingness to stay down, he had little in common with the care-free juggler. Lightning crackled through his fingertips as Gamzee insisted on mashing words together, Weremageagenda . With a quick exhale he dispelled any hostile notions and pressed his hand against the grimy trail. He dug his fingertips into the dirt and ripped a clump from the earth. The mage squinted his eyes and took a sniff of the moist earth. Every movement was slow and protracted, as if he had been tracking monsters his entire life. The clown watched in relative silence, shuffling about every now and again.

“Soooo, where we headin’ boss man?” Gamzee finally spoke.

Strazio scowled and threw his clump of dirt across the trail, “fuck, man I don’t know how to track for shit, I was trying to stall hoping you’d wander off in a random direction.”

“Oh, uhm, well I we could go traipsing through the forest?” Gamzee suggested, “y’know try an’ kick something up?”

“Yeah, I suppose, let’s go.”

Without an idea nor a sense of direction the adventurers stumbled off into a random direction. Prickly underbrush grabbed at their feet and sharp branches clawed at their bodies. Every inch reminded them of the twisted nature of the verse. Gnarled black bark covered the trees and only the harshest of plants survived in this dreary world. With every step Strazio found himself filling with impotent anger. However is was not the Slog through such inhospitable terrain that irked him, nor was it the fact that they were devoid of any true target. No, what really perturbed him was the troll’s constant humming. Still he marched forward, clenching his fists and doing his best to contain the roiling hate furnace that burned within his chest. Not that his hate was purely directed at the happy-go-lucky clown. Indeed it was simply a side effect of his absolutely stunning disposition.

Strazio’s incessant need to be frustrated got the better of him, however. His boot snagged against a gnarled root and without warning his entire body toppled into the ground. Cement blocks would have had a harder time falling faster than the unfortunate mage. Face-first into a sizeable puddle of rank muck. For a moment he sat submerged, playing back the sequence of events that led him to this unfortunate mishap. Arcs of white-hot energy snapped around his body in threatening waves. Gamzee watched with the hints of a smirk upon his grey lips; it was almost something out of a cartoon, what with the way the mud even boiled around the walking temper tantrum. Slowly and with an unreasonable amount of Ire Strazio stood. Two thick wreaths of energy coiled around his forearms.

“Strazi…” Gamzee began to speak, sensing the impending tempest.

“FUCK” The mage bellowed, unleashed two destructive shafts of magick from his arms. The twin beams carved through the forest, splintering trees and incinerating the dry bramble.

“Oh…” Gamzee punctuated with a sigh.

“What?” Strazio glanced over his shoulder at the disheartened troll, “It made me feel better, plus the path’s cleared now.”

Globs of mud dribbled off Strazio’s face, and he took a moment to wipe the muck off. Steam billowed from his forearms, a sign that his tantrum damaged more than just the foliage. Dirt and mud clung to his white cloak and stained his entire outfit. In front of them a tunnel of smoldering nature sizzled and popped. A female voice, imperial and majestic, cut through the trees and spoke at them from every angle, “Thou art a foolish creature indeed, tearing my hunting grounds asunder.”

“What was that?” Strazio asked.

“Cat!” Gamzee exclaimed and forcefully turned Strazio’s body around, “Look it’s a motherfucking talking cat!”

Indeed, perched upon a twisted branch sat a cat. Pink fur, lighter than cotton candy swallowed the feline, making her look more akin to a puffball than an actual creature. Buried within a sea of fluff two emerald eyes stayed focused upon the duo. Her white-banded tail flicked and flittered in the air, giving the appearance of an angry caterpillar. “Who the hell are you?” Strazio asked, pointing a finger towards the newcomer.

“Hmm, arrogance oozes from your lips child” the cat answered, “tell me, why should I answer thee?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll-”

Gamzee interrupted the mage by stepping between him and the cat, “please forgive him your fluffiness, he’s having a monumental bad day, we’re a little lost.”

The cat turned up her jellybean nose and spoke, “My name is Avana and as I have told thee, these are my hunting grounds and thou art trespassing, why doth thou encroach upon my lands?”

“Well y’see, funny story that is,” Gamzee rubbed the nape of his neck.

“We’re here to kill a werewolf,” Strazio answered, pressing past the troll, “and I’m not really in the mood to play games with some mystical psuedo-feline.”

“I am no feline, although my visage may represent me as such,” Avana drop from her perch and ambled closer to the two, “I am a brownie, and thou would be wise to respect me mortal, especially since thou art bereft of direction, direction that a hunter such as myself can offer thee.”

“So you know where the werewolf is then?” Strazio asked.

“Aye.”

“Take us to him.” The mage demanded.

“Nay, what have I to gain by guiding thou?” Avana asked, flicking her tail in the air and pacing in front of the two, “thou have desecrated my hunting grounds and have offered no respect to me.”

“Oh I’ve got respect for you,” Strazio growled, lightning crackling between his fingertips.

“Straz,” Gamzee chuckled nervously, “lemme talk to her, you’re… uh, making things worse.”

A huff of hot air shot from Strazio’s nostrils. He glanced away from Avana and towards Gamzee. It was that damned inner pride that plagued him so. Pride mixed with underlying rage forced him to act this way. An insult followed by outright refusal of his request sent equal measures of shame and anger through the immature mage. But the troll was right, and as much as he hated being wrong Strazio felt the hidden air of danger in the situation. The mage clenched his teeth and threw his hands in the air, “Whatever, fine.” Strazio stomped away towards the path that he cleared, kicking rocks along the way.