MysidiaDrakkenbane

Akahsha strolled down the streets of Nettleville Hobble as though she didn’t have a care in the world. A few people greeted her as though she belonged there and the little devil in her couldn’t help but keep the oily smirk on her face.

She looked down at the piece of paper clutched in her hand and tried to look for street signs. There was a part of her that was impressed with the layout of the small town that outskirted her enemy city.

The roads were taken care of. It was clean, the litter had been put in its place. There weren’t people running around being chased from guards. Even the scent of the town was just “better”. If it weren’t so “bright and cheery”, she probably could make this place a permanent home.

She looked up and saw the house she wanted. Using her assassin skills, she cloaked herself with her invisibility and snuck in the back of the house where she ended up in the kitchen.

She heard nothing. There was no movement. Everything was quiet and still. This made her uneasy. She ran her fingers over the cool rock countertop. The house was immaculately clean. Everything had a place and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere to be found.

All of Feja’s spices and herbs were clearly labeled and carefully placed in jars. All of her pots and pans were shining and hanging in a row from largest to smallest. Feja ran a tight ship, from what Akahsha could see. And the house itself rang clear with the scent of white sage and a hint of cinnamon.

“I don’t have to see you to know you’re here, Teir’dal. I can smell your blood all the way upstairs.”, Feja said calmly coming down. She had on her armor and her two handed staff was firmly placed on her back.

Akahsha released the invisibility and her disguise. She sneered at the Kerran approaching her.

“You have something I want, Darkfury.”, Akahsha said.

“And what would that be?”, Feja asked, her muscles tense.

“Information.”, Akahsha said quietly.

“That, you don’t have to break into my home for. You could have easily met me outside of these walls.”, Feja said coolly.

“Regardless. What of the Rydian?”, Akahsha asked, slowly unhitching her daggers.

Feja sucked in her breath. “What do you want with her?”

“That is of no concern of yours.”, Akahsha said coldly.

“Actually, it is. You know of my task, Teir’dal.”, Feja said, her paw like hand glowing with energy.

“Your task means little to me. Either tell me what I want to know or suffer the consequences. I’ve wasted enough time talking with you as it is.”, Akahsha said, obvious her ire raising.

“I will not, Teir’dal, and you do your family name a disservice by continuing down this path.”, Feja said releasing the energy in her hand and a purple spiritual ward cascaded down her person, protecting her from the oncoming onslaught.

“Speak not of my family name. You know nothing of it, Kerran.”, Akahsha spat as her image began to shimmer into nothingness.

“Only that your mother loved Mysidia like a sister.”, Feja marked quietly.

Purple spirit sparks flew off Feja’s backside as the shadowed assassin’s daggers struck true and bounced off the spiritual ward Feja placed on herself. Feja snapped around and held out her bow, completely on guard.

“I’ve come back to restore my family name, Feja, and no one will stop me.”, Akahsha said moving effortlessly in the space around Feja.

“Your foolish ambition blinds you, Teir’dal. Your family name means more now than it ever did before. Your mother’s name sits in history books on well known scholar’s shelves…”, Feja pleaded. But her pleas fell on deaf ears as she felt the jolt from her ward again as an arrow tried to pierce it.

“Speak sense! My race has turned me out and made me no better than the slaves they keep.”, Akahsha spat.

Feja snickered. “There are events in place that are greater than society stature, child. Think!”

Feja’s image shimmered down and it her place was a large brown bear. Her red angered eyes fixated on the shadow that she could now see. Akahsha swallowed the lump in her throat when she realized that the playing field has just become even.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++

Kryimsson and Xerbius tore up the ground, running their horses towards the large wooden gate between Thundering Stepps and Antonica. Tay’lan agreed to stay behind and aid the fishing camp healing those that were still wounded. There was little he could do as it was, considering he had no mount of his own and the camp still needed a strong healer to help.

They wasted no time when they realized what had happened. Kryimsson made the decision to go back to Qeynos and get Austforbeer. They needed a tracker, and a good one, if they were to rescue Mysidia. And with any luck, they would find Machene too. The more, the merrier, especially if they were to take on an entire encampment of orcs.

“I don’t know if crashing the camp is wise, brother. Not without a healer, anyway.”, Xerbius said in the midst of galloping his horse.

“We need ta get ta Siddie quickly. If ye know of a better suggestion, I’m all ears.”, Kryimsson said. He worried about his sister. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, but he didn’t trust the orcs not to sell her off as a slave to Freeport. And while although Tay’lan had expressed that his race’s old traditions died with the destruction of Luclin, he didn’t entirely trust that knowledge either. Dark practices aren’t exactly widely whispered. And bodily sacrifices were as dark as you can get.

“Well, now that you mention it, I have a friend in mind. Faid can get us in and out with little exposure and quickly get us to Sid.”, Xerbius said nodding seriously.

“Can ye get to yer friend quick like?”, Kryimsson asked.

“I can. In fact, he’s waiting for me to return to Qeynos.”, Xerbius said.

“Let’s make tracks then. Th’sooner we can get there, th’ better.”, Kryimsson said and dug his heels into his charger’s flanks.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She wasn’t entirely sure how long she had been laying there. She could barely hear anything around her through the waves of pain that thumped deep within her skull. She didn’t remember the transport or the faces of those who captured her. The only thing she could remember was the blow to her head and the pain she was in that moment.

She groaned slightly, but even that was an effort. The sound cracked from her dry throat and she had to force herself to move and open her eyes. All Mysidia could see was darkness. Even her low light vision was no match for the blackness around her. She coughed slightly and a sharp pain caused her to suck in her breath. She had assessed that she had a few ribs cracked.

“Ah, good yer alive.”, she heard a gruff voice say. She tried to delicately shift her body to see where the voice came from, and that’s where she noticed the chains on her wrists and ankles.

She ran her finger over the shackle and groaned.

“Aye, lass, yer captured.”, the gruff voice said.

She cleared her throat. “Where am I?”

“In the dungeons of Deathfist Citadel.”, the voice returned. She could pick up the Dwarvish accent clearly. “Yer eyes will adjust to the darkness in a few days. Ye really should be worryin’ about that head wound of yours.”

She closed her eyes and began to gather her energy to heal the wound on her head. She grew confused as she felt the energy literally get sucked out of her and into the shackles on her wrists. Confused, she opened her eyes and looked around.

“Won’t do ye any good. Any magic you use just gets absorbed.”, the dwarf said as he continued to watch her.

She hung her head and placed it in her hands. Bloody strands of blond hair crunched as the weight of the length covered her face.

“Lovely.”, she managed to get out as the fear of hopelessness overcame her.

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