Mage Wall – The split between worlds (Breast/butt expansion story)

It was with no small degree of hesitation, that Abigail stepped foot in Sarill's quarters. And, when she was wordless asked to, she shut the door behind her. The sound of it clicking closed was like a spark. 

"Abigail." Sarill started. His voice a slithering hiss from behind his desk. The map at his back marked with a red X. "Have you ever heard of the Rock River gang?"

She had not. "No." She said. Her own arms crossed beneath her bust. Eyes locked onto the map. "But I assume..."

"And you assume correctly. I want you to kill their... Leader. A brute of an elf named Argor."

At that, she nodded. Simple. 

But then, Sarill spoke again, and simple became less so. "And I want you to leave as many of his men alive and unharmed as you possibly can." 

Abigail stared Ice cold daggers at him. "Why?" She asked.

The snake laughed. "It's not that hard to understand." Was all he said.

Then, in the next few moments, she was dismissed. Baric leaving the room with her. Walking down the hall beside her, his eyes trained on her as she walked a foot ahead.

"What?" She asked.

And he stopped. "Are you... Alright? You seem a little..."

"Upset?" She was. She didn't fancy being taken advantage of.

"Yes." Was Baric's reply. "Did you expect something else? Different somehow?"

"I shouldn't have but I did. Thought that he would actually help me."

"He will."

"When?" She asked, voice laced with venom. "After I've given him the head of all his opposition. Or after I've armed him with every artifact he knows of?"

"When he can take Grimsell."

Abigail wasn't sure what to say. So she stayed silent as they carried on. Down to the front gate and out, into the wilds of the cavern. Where she was free to think about what she was about to do as much as she wanted. Which wasn't very much. Still her thoughts lingered on the ramifications of arming a bandit with a small army and a very enchanted, very dangerous spear.

Which weren't very good either.

Esbern certainly would scold her if he knew. He'd probably scold her after she rescued him. A small price to pay in the long run.

That was what she told herself over and over again as they hurried to the camp. Great leaps taking her over distances too vast to walk in any leisurely way. Above spires of stone, and beside great boulders. 

All while the wildlife, creatures almost alien to her watched. Their eyes lingering on her. Then on Baric, as he flew overhead. A great wind carrying him to their destination.

Which they reached half a day later. When the light of the cavern's false sun began to dim. Night apparently settling even down here. 

Fortunately, they didn't lack for light. 

Up high, on one of the many stone spires, Abigail and Baric stood watch. Their eyes fixed upon a camp down below. It was a well lit assortment of tents, sixty in all, half of which had twin torch poles at their sides. Then there was the bonfire at its heart. Which ensured that the camp was practically a beacon.

And gathered around the bonfire, were the bandits. Who, based off a very hasty count, must've numbered at least a hundred. A number that certainly wasn't the whole of the camp. 

Abigail could see a few empty seats, and some of tents had the silhouette of bodies inside.

Still, it was quite a lot of them. And if things went how she thought they were probably going to go...

That would be another hundred flying under Sarill's banner.

"There he is." Baric whispered. The hush of his tone quieting her own thoughts. "Closest to the fire, with the axe."

She found him. A bear of an elf, with arms muscled like bars of steel. His torso a wall of stone. 

She could see why he was their leader. Unfortunately, she didn't see herself beating him in a straight on confrontation. Which was her specialty. 

But she was sent here as an assassin, not a fighter. So, despite how gross it felt to do so, she looked at the camp through different eyes. The way a killer would. Planning routes, looking for ways to exploit any weakness. How to disarm and disorient, make her job easier.

Make killing easier.

And despite herself, it was an easy thing to do. Spotting the lack of discipline of the Rock River gang and how to take full advantage of it was like child's play. All she had to do was come into the camp from the south side.

Over where the gang seemingly got its name sake. Past a river blocked up with more rocks than she could count. And from there, it was as simple as going through the empty tents. 

Four, they numbered. Each conveniently spaced out just enough that she could slip in between and avoid detection from any of the bandits.

And right as she went to make her move, nails like claws gripping the spire, a commotion arose. It came from the north. A shout. Then a scream. Then a tent was thrown high into the sky, grabbing everyone's attention.

The source of the disturbance revealed itself with a roar and a storm.

It was something like a rhino. Body covered in scales and sparks. But the most striking thing about it was it's upper body. It had a torso, like a man. Broad and heavy, two arms sticking from its sides. And it's head was a thing of malice and armor. A crest bearing three horns, lightning dancing between them.

"A Dust horn." Baric called it.

And Abigail could see why. It's horns, beyond the blue bolts, were covered in dust. Dust falling off of them and scattering to the faint cavern wind. 

The bandits across from it, touched by dust themselves, stood to face the beast. Not all. Not even most. But a brave set of few that were cheered on by their - most assuredly - drunk compatriots. It was sure to be a show.

But not one she would watch.

"We need to stop it. Before it kills too many of them." Baric told her. And then he set off, flying down on a cloud.

Abigail followed him, clawing her way down like a big cat. And she felt like a big cat. The weight of her body was unfamiliar to her as she let herself fall and cling to the spire. The heft of each little jump requiring her full focus lest she fall too far.

Still she made it down relatively quick. Just in time to watch as one of the bandits ran at the Dust horn.

And promptly got hit by a blast of lightning that sent him flying back. Straight into a tent and out of sight. Where he presumably died.

His death, though, was a rallying cry. Spurring all the nearby bandits into action. Weapons raised as they all ran at it, a massive swarm of bodies about to fall on the Dust horn.

That was when Baric appeared in the midst of them. He was like a wall, back turned to the bandits as he stared the Dust horn down. Winds licked at his spear. A dangerous edge to them as he lifted the weapon up and released a blade of wind from its tip.

Abigail heard the bang of the attack landing before she saw it. 

A scar carved into the ground, right where the Dust horn had been. But now it was on the offensive. It's massive body having leapt into the air and out of the way. Only for gravity to take hold. Bringing it crashing back down like a meteor. Right over Baric.

At the second before contact, right as gravity was about to perform it's cruel trick, Abigail moved. She became an arrow, swift and fast. Flying over in a single leap. Imperceptible power roiling up through her. A web of energy that forced itself outside and became water with a single prodding thought.

Waves that crashed and rose around her. Motion never stopping. 

And then she hit the Dust horn like a boulder out of catapult. Foot colliding with its side. Whole body following suit as momentum jumped from her to it in the opposite direction. Both of them going with the current. Both too fast to stop.

But Abigail slowed first. Hitting the ground and rolling a few feet. Dirt and stone and dust getting all over her. Landing anything but gentle. 

The Dust horn did even worse.

It kept going till it hit a tent, went through it, and hit another tent. Then it struck the ground violently. Rolling just as she had, only further and with far more force.

And before it could rise to it's feat, a hand found its way to the Dust horn's throat. 

Argor had joined the fray. And just as quick, he put an end to it. Crushing the Dust horn's neck with nothing but his bare hands. Doing so with laughable ease before dropping the corpse and turning towards her. His steps too silent as he began to make his way over. 

All he managed to make was three. Three steps and the Dust horn's corpse began to glow. First a faint light. Then blue, swelling with Ardin. And as that Ardin reached the bursting point, Abigail focused.

She focused on a bubble. Small. As small as she could make it. Slowly that bubble grew. Going from palm sized to head sized to person sized. All over the course of a single breath. And then she threw it.

Her bubble, flew over to Argor. It enveloped him. It wrapped around him. A dome, paper thin yet sturdy. Strong enough to withstand one punch from him. But too weak to withstand the blast for more than a second.

It was enough to save Argor's life.

A mistake she quickly realized as Baric strode up beside her. His face a mask. Smiling as their giant elven target strode up to them. His presence more intimidating up close than Abigail would have believed. Like she was facing down a mountain.

"Hmm." He went. And she wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Only that it was going to involve blood.

It did not.

The giant instead helped her to her feet and dusted her off. 

"You did good." He said. Voice a rumble. "What do you want?"

Baric was quick to answer. "We came looking for you. Bearing a message, you see." He said, and he said it like it was a secret.

The giant nodded. "From who?"

"Sarill." He said. And every ear in earshot perked up. 

Everyone but the giant that is. He only squinted nodded, and walked off.

"We'll talk at dinner."