MysidiaDrakkenbane

Machene leaned up against the railing of the ship, playing with the crude necklace he made for himself that carried Mysidia’s wedding band. His green eyes scanned the choppy seas impatiently as he wished a good strong wind would push the ship faster than it was currently going.

He had gotten reports from Xerbius and Kryimsson that she was healthy at the moment of her capture, but Machene was no fool. He had fought hundreds of orcs before and had borne witness to the destruction they can do. His own parents were taken as slaves by orcs before being sold to their last owners. He remembers the stories behind his mother’s scars, when he was a boy. He gripped the railing in a fit of anger. His knuckles began to turn white just thinking about what Mysidia was most likely enduring.

Kryimsson, noticing his brother-in-law’s body language, came over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Kryimsson handed over a tankard with a dark liquid inside.

“Here.”, he said nudging at it.

“What is it?”, Machene asked sniffing it.

“What do ye think?”, Kryimsson said and grinned.

Machene stared at it for a few moments before taking a drink. A wide smile spread across his face as he felt the familiar sweet fire attacking his taste buds. He growled low as it cascaded down his throat and warmed him from the inside out.

“I’ve missed this.”, Machene said as his teeth began to go numb. He looked out at the sea again and his face grew somber.

“She’ll be all right, brother. Mysidia’s tough. As tough as th’ come. Ye know that she’s probably got them corn’rd by now.”, Kryimsson said leaning on the railing next to him.

Machene looked over his shoulder and nodded at the new addition to their group. Faid was sitting towards the back of the ship, quietly speaking with Xerbius. Xerbius vouched for Faid, saying that he could get anyone into anywhere without any exposure. And if Xerbius put faith in someone, it was well enough to say that they were worth having around. Xerbius never vouched for anyone that wasn’t worth the effort.

“You think this will work with him? We don’t exactly have a healer to help out if we’re exposed.”, Machene said.

“Xerbius is confident about ‘im. If he says the lad is good, tha’s good ‘nuff for me.”, Kryimsson said to Machene.

Faid was picked up at the tavern in South Qeynos. He met Xerbius in Fire Myst Gully, helping to even the odds on a few baddies that seemed to have gotten slightly out of control. Faid was grateful and befriended the large wizard. They had been traveling companions ever since.

“When did the captain say we’d arrive?”, Machene asked out to one of the deck hands.

“In about a day or so. You’d best take cover soon m’lord. Storm’s a brewin’. It’s going to get mighty choppy out here.”, the young man said as he began to tie down anything that was loose.

Xerbius and Faid picked up their heads and began to head under along with Kryimsson and Machene. They retreated to a rather ornate room with a large table in the middle, suitable for conferencing. The wood was deep in a rich orange brown and carved intricately with starfish and mermaids, depicting an underwater story.

Machene sat at the head of the table while Kryimsson was to his right and Xerbius, his left. Faid sat next to Xerbius and laid out a map of Deathfist Citadel. Machene raised his eyebrows as he began to recognize what he was looking at.

“Where did you get this??”, Machene asked and whistled.

“I…acquired it.”, Faid said delicately.

Kryimsson chuckled, knowing the rogue lingo. “An’ I dunna suppose anyone might have lost a limb ‘er two on th’ way, in getting’ this map?”

Faid shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”

Kryimsson laughed and smacked his large fist on the table. “I like ye already!”

“It looks like we can enter here, underneath the Citadel and climb up through the catacombs before coming out by the dungeon cells. If Siddie would be anywhere, she’d be in there.”, Xerbius said as he began to follow his finger up the map.

“Yes, but, we would have to be extremely careful. There are a few higher ranking orcs down there that would rip right through us. We have to bypass them all together. Without a healer, this will be tough.”, Faid said as his eyes scanned over the document.

“If we can get to Siddie, she can heal us.”, Xerbius said with a hope in his voice.

Faid shook his head. “Not if they have her shackled.”

Machene’s hands began to ball into fists thinking about his wife in shackles. His jaw began to twitch under the tension.

“Shackled?”, Machene asked through clenched teeth.

“Aye. I hear that they have these magic absorbing shackles which prevent any unwarranted magic use within the Citadel. It would explain why your wife hasn’t escaped, yet.”, Faid said.

“Look, Machene, we might as well turn in for the night. The time won’t pass any faster worrying about a situation we cannot control, yet. It’s best to rethink our plan and go over it tomorrow, with a fresh mind.”, Xerbius said nodding at him.

Machene nodded slowly, realizing Xerbius was right. Cooler minds do prevail. They all rose to leave the room. Machene looked at the map before him and began to stare hard at the crudely drawn out jail cells.

“Hang in there, my love. I’m coming.”, he said quietly.

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

Akahsha always enjoyed coming to Thundering Stepps. She could walk around freely without worry about any guards chasing her down, and if she wanted to hide, she had the ability to do that too. Both factions mixed freely here and she had her pick of places to put her feet up and cut back a while.

She had heard rumors of a small group of adventurers that had thwarted the pillaging of Deathfist orcs. And when she had heard of this rumor, she knew that Mysidia wasn’t far behind. There aren’t many brazen enough to take on a full pillaging party of orcs. Akahsha was wary following the fallen queen, now. Mysidia still fought as though her Catta Thaeja* was with her. With him at her side, she would be dangerous to get to.

Akahsha had parked herself in a seedy bar just off the mainstream path of Thundering Stepps Docks. She liked it better with those who thought on her same level. Birds of a feather and all that. It made it easier to blend in. If she had gone to a Qeynos sympathizing tavern, she would have to work harder on making herself look invisible. And she hated that. She didn’t want to have to work hard unless she had to.

Akahsha kept to herself and watched the rat drowned swill swirling in her stained tankard. Naturally, she wasn’t going to drink it. She merely bought for it for aesthetic purposes. As long as she looked like she was drinking, she didn’t stand out.

She lifted her head for a moment to catch the distinctive scent of fresh rain mixing with the pungent scent of old sea water. It was raining. She drew her cloak around her tighter, trying to fight the unmistakable chill running from feet to neck. No matter where she went, the rain would always be cold to her. Living a life on the streets would do that.

All the more reason to find her mark and take her out. D*mn her mother! Didn’t she know what she was doing when she renounced her Tier’Dal kind? What it would do to her future children, and their children, down the line?

But with this… this would take her name and bring it back into the ranks of her people. Her mother took her House Name, Olath’Anulo, and bastardized it by giving it the Common translation: Darkskye, thus showing her separation. Now her daughter would finish the task and bring back the true name given to her House. Akahsha would no longer walk the streets of Freeport with the Common name. She would be Akahsha Olath’Anulo once again.

She looked up from her inner turmoil and saw a rather unshaven and shaggy human male looking at her. He gave her a recognizing nod before heading out of the door again. A wild and cruel grin tugged at Akahsha’s lips before she threw her hood up and headed out into the raining night.

She dropped a rather hefty bag of coins into the man’s hand and muttered “perfect”, before being lead towards a small dilapidated fishing shack some distance away from the docks.

She peered inside and saw a rather unconscious Iksar laying crumpled on the crude cot in the corner. She looked up at the human and scowled. “I said I wanted him alive.”

“He was when I went to get you. Look! He still breathes.”, he said and pointed to the labored rise and fall of the Iksar’s chest.

“You used too much of the poison. He’s useless to me, now.”, Akahsha said and jammed a poison laden dagger deep within the human’s backside. When she felt the spine, she jerked her wrist, feeling the bone chip and the flesh tear.

The human male slid to his knees, seeing the red pour out him and dilute itself onto the sand beneath them both. The human male looked up into his murder’s face, confused. She bent down and peered evilly. “As are you, I’m afraid. What… you really didn’t think I would actually PAY you, do you?”, she said as she took back the bag of coins she had given him earlier. She watched with a sick satisfaction as the life began to seep out of her victim.

She withdrew her dagger with a cold indifference and walked inside, leaving the human to bleed to death on the beach. Once inside, she removed her hood and smoothed her hair away from her face.

She carefully sat down at the salt blasted table diagonal from the bed and took out a small vial of a glowing red liquid, placing it on the top of the table. Then she sat back and waited.

She was rather astonished to find out that Mysidia had the Iksar help her take back the docks. Mysidia, working with Iksars? Perhaps there was more to this fallen queen than Akahsha was given previously. The torture of the Kerran gave little information as to her companions. She was hoping that this Iksar would more forth coming with information.

She watched the Iksar began to stir within his sleep as the poison was working through his system. Ah, good, the human knew enough to restrain the Iksar before coming to get me, she thought. This will make this interrogation easier.

“..and so it begins..”, Akahsha said breaking the silence.

The Iksar moaned, as he felt his insides being torn apart by some unknown assailant. When he opened his slitted eyes, he was rather surprised to see a dark elf woman staring back at him.

“What in the nine hells…”, he began, his words slurred.

“You can waste your time asking questions, Iksar, or you can give me what I need and live to see another day.”, Akahsha said placing a finger on the top of the red liquid vial.

“Who are you?”, the Iksar said angrily, the dry hiss within his voice.

“Ah, questions. Very well. I am Akahsha. And I know who you are, Tay’lan, so we can cut the introductions.”, Akahsha said, her silver eyes dancing to the evil in the darkness around them.

“What do you want?”, Tay’lan asked. The obvious fear was permeating through his scaly skin. He recognized the burning feeling as poison and didn’t know how long he had.

“That is much better. You are going to tell me everything I want to know about Mysidia, starting with where she went from here.”, Akahsha said folding her arms.

“And why would I, ssindossa?”, Tay’lan seethed.

Akahsha smirked amused. His use of her language and his flippant insult did little to raise her ire. She knew she had the upper hand.

“You are addicted to breathing, are you not?”, she said and rolled around the vial. “The exchange is simple. Tell me what I want to know, and you live. Keep refusing me and I walk with the antidote.”

She watched with a cruel curiosity as Tay’lan tried to move his arms to cast the spell, undoing his current demise. Confusion set to panic as Tay’lan’s hands refused to move. Akahsha recognized it right away.

“I…I can’t move my hands!”, Tay’lan exclaimed.

“Mmm.. Yes, I’m told that is one of the side effects. That is in record time, however. Usually most of the victims don’t experience the paralysis until much later. I would assume because you are cold blooded that it would react differently to you. It does however, leave me pressed for time…”, Akahsha said and placed the vial on the small table next to the bed. Tay’lan eyed it with a burning want.

“Now… tell me. Mysidia. Where is she?”, Akahsha said. Her voice was thick with severity.

Tay’lan licked his scaly lips, eyeing the vial. He could feel the slowing pound of his heartbeat deep within his skull. He wasn’t sure how long he had. He was weighing the options in his head. Should he betray a friend? He had helped her see that the Iksar race wasn’t what she remembered. Doing this would only further fuel her prejudice.

But his death would mean little, especially if Akahsha found out from some other source. And alive, he could at least explain himself. Mysidia would understand, wouldn’t she?

Tay’lan sighed and closed his eyes, the putrid feeling of betrayal attacking his gut along with the poison. “Zek… The orcs took her to Zek.”

Akahsha’s eyes narrowed under suspicion. “Alive?”

“She was when they took her. I don’t know about now.”, Tay’lan said. His voice carried the traces of sadness.

Akahsha began to work through scenarios in her mind. She bit at her lip thoughtfully. She looked up. “Who was with you, in your group?”

Tay’lan began to feel sleepy. He could feel the waves of drowsiness beat with every pump of his heart.

Akahsha quickly swept over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him. “NO! You will not die on me yet. Tell me! TELL ME!”, she said shaking him. “Her Catta Thaeja, is he with her?”

Tay’lan gave a blank look to Akahsha, his eyes glassy and distant. He was beyond the point of giving her answers, now. She cursed under her breath and grabbed the vial. Carefully, she placed a few drops on his lips. Instinctually, he licked at them. She sat back and waited.

“Was she with her Catta Thaeja?”, she asked again. His vacant expression didn’t change. And now, Akahsha was left with a dilemma. If she gave him the full antidote, she wouldn’t have any leverage. If she didn’t give it to him, he would die without giving her the information she wanted.

She scowled slightly and grabbed her cloak. She gave one final look to the dying Iksar before throwing her hood up and heading out into the night.

Tay’lan’s eyes managed to look over on the night stand and focused on the tiny red vial that sat inches from his face. Two tears trickled out of his eyes, realizing that he betrayed his friend without even a chance to redeem himself. He sputtered out his last breath before his vision gave way to darkness.

(* Catta Thaeja means "Knight Protector" in the Rydian language. A term given to the one who is sworn to protect the Empress, even at the cost of their own lives. Usually given to the man or woman who is renouned for being an exceptional warrior or paladin, rarely beaten in battle.)

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