MysidiaDrakkenbane

Thick plumes of black smoke choked its vaporous hand around the night air as the Orcs pillaged and set fire to whatever civilization found its way on the docks. Women ran frantically screaming, trying to find any hiding space where they would be safe. Men, some young boys, grabbed spears and fishing knives, defending their livelihood, knowing full well that a complete destruction to Thundering Stepps docks would mean starvation for them and their families.

There were a few adventurers around to help the fishermen protect the dock, but the docks themselves were mostly a conduit station to help people get to various other places on Norrath. The ships had all gone for the day and whoever was to arrive at the Thundering Stepps, had done so and already moved on.

Mysidia, Xerbius, and Kryimsson all stood with their backs to one another, with their weapons drawn and magic on the ready.

“Sis, can ye slow down th’ masses a wee bit? It would make it easier for me to deal them.”, Kryimsson shouted as he began to charge a large group of orcs.

Mysidia snapped her attention towards her brother and saw the small troop of orcs that were beginning to choke the docks. She reached over and grabbed Tay’lan’s hand.

“Tay’lan, concentrate with me. Summon the vines.”, Mysidia said and closed her eyes, saying the spell in her native tongue. The Iksar, too, closed his eyes and began to chant the words that were taught to him while he was a mere hatchling.

Torrents of thick seaweed vines began to explode through the dock planks and interweave among the boxes and crates that dotted the borders. Immediately, several slimy green vines wrapped around the orcs legs and caused them all to nearly halt their advance.

Kryimsson’s thunderous laughter echoed off the buildings as he began to pick up speed charging the snared orc group. He lifted his sword and a primal red energy fused around him, causing his body to almost catch in a magical fire. He sliced downward, causing several orcs’ legs to be sliced off at the knee and they collapsed in their own horror and thick black blood.

Xerbius snapped his arm out, causing a huge fireball to be flung from his hand and the four orcs that were charging them, all collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain from their flesh being charred. He walked over their freshly seared corpses and a wild look crept into his eyes.

“Boom! There is no spoon, [expletive haxx0red by Raijinn]!”, he said as he walked towards where Mysidia was standing.

Mysidia armed herself with her buckler and sword. Two orcs sneered in her direction and began to swing their flails over their heads, coming towards her direction. Mysidia smacked the flat of her blade against her buckler and nodded at the Orcs.

“Bring it.”, she said and grinned. One orc charged her, swinging his flail down at her. With a swift movement on her part, she lifted her left arm up, blocking the fierce blow with her buckler and a thunderous crack was heard as metal spines met shield.

With her other hand, she sliced outward, slicing across the orc’s abdomen, and would have cut right through if it weren’t for the thick leather hide he was wearing. It did, however, make him stumble back to make sure he wasn’t seriously wounded.

“You’ll pay for that, lightie!”, the orc exclaimed.

The other orc, swung around the back and tried to clip Mysidia in the legs, to trip her. The only thing he succeeded was getting a buckler to his face as she swung back toward his jaw. One of his tusk like teeth cracked and a chuck of it went flying into the smoke filled air behind him.

Just as the leather armored orc was about to strike Mysidia, Tay’lan swung his tail and tripped the orc. With a swift movement, the end of Tay’lan’s staff met the face of the orc and a sickening “crunch” was heard as bone gave way to thick solid wood.

“Thank you.”, Mysidia said and smiled.

“My pleasure.”, Tay’lan said and bowed.

“I think perhaps your brother could use a little assistance.”, Tay’lan said as he pointed in the distance.

Mysidia broke her concentration for a moment to see her brother in the middle of a circle of orcs. She nodded slightly as she began to see some of the open wounds on her brother. She turned her attention back to Tay’lan, and much to her surprise and shock, she saw a treeant in his place.

“What…the…hell?”, she asked confused.

“It’s one of your abilities, Mysidia. Each weapon we use, we’re giving an affinity towards a special form. Go ahead. Try it.”, the dry voice said from the tree.

“Focus the will on the weapon when you shift.”, Tay’lan said.

And so, she did. She began to shut off the world around her just long enough to center her energy around the weapon and shifting her body with it. She felt the usual transformation with her body. She felt herself shrink. She felt her hands and feet form paws. However, when the transformation was complete, she looked at herself and saw the pattern of stripes instead of the peppered coat of a wolf. Instead, a tiger took her place.

“Siddie!”, Xerbius exclaimed and Mysidia popped open her violet eyes and looked around. Using her cat like reflexes, she darted out of the way just in time. An orc nearly ran her through with a spear, into her side.

Tay’lan swung wide and took out a few orcs, knocking them all to their backsides, with his huge branch like arms. Mysidia took a flying leap off of a tall crate and landed on one of them, mauling their face.

Several of the fishermen began to cheer on the four of them and they all began to gain a fresh new bout of confidence with the four of them on their side. Before long, the orcs were pushed back and the four of them were given a moment to regain their energy.

Kryimsson wiped the sweat off his brow and began to slow his breathing down. “We’ve pushed ‘em back, but for how long, I canna tell ye.”, he said turning to Tay’lan who now had regained his normal form.

“I’ve healed what I could. But even I feel stretched thin.”, Tay’lan said.

Mysidia’s eyes blinked as she watched the masses of the orcs starting to retreat. There was something in it that made her tail twitch. This wasn’t like normal orc behavior.

She shifted back into her usual form and looked around. She nodded to Tay’lan and Kryimsson.

“See to the wounded over there. Xerbius and I will see what we can do here. Keep your eyes open. I don’t like the ease of their retreat one bit.”, Mysidia said and walked off with Xerbius.

“I agree with you, sister. This isn’t like them at all.”, Xerbius agreed.

“I don’t care how many years of evolution there have been between then and now. Some behaviors you can’t change. Total retreat from an orc is one of them.”, Mysidia said began to heal a head wound on an older woman.

Xerbius turned his back and Mysidia made it further into the wounded masses. She healed what she could and bandaged the rest. She began to curse herself for not picking up specific herbs earlier. Then again, she really didn’t think she’d be protecting the docks from an Orc Invasion.

There were a few lower level clerics that began to aid Mysidia once they were healed up. Before long, the fishing shack was made into a temporary and emergency triage unit.

Mysidia wiped the sweat off her brow. She stretched out her back and was about to take a break when she heard a woman frantically screaming off to the side on the docks.

She grabbed her sword and shield and ran to where the woman was screaming.

“Please! Please… you must help me! My son can’t swim and neither can I. Please, you must help my son!”, the woman said grabbing Mysidia’s arm and pointing to the little boy trying to tread water to keep his head afloat.

“All right, ma’am. Please stand back and be calm.”, Mysidia said and took off her equipment.

She dove headfirst into the water and began to swim towards the boy. The boy managed to swim underneath the docks themselves and she followed quickly behind him.

“It’s all right. I’m here to help you. Here, latch on to my hand.”, Mysidia said and held out her hand to him. He quickly grabbed on to it and Mysidia gave an extra push with her legs to ensure they both didn’t go under when the boy began to pull on her.

“There we go. Now just hold on to me and let me do the swimming, ok?”, Mysidia said and smiled.

She began to swim towards the shore and the moment she felt sand beneath her feet, she walked him up and placed him down.

The little boy leaned over and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. Then he said “There are monsters under there…”

She thought it was an odd thing to say for a boy at that particular moment in time. She looked over underneath the docs and tried to peer into the darkness. For a moment, she saw something shift and what seemed like two pairs of red eyes flashing back at her.

Curiosity got the better part of her and she sent the kid running towards the docks. She turned back around and began swimming to where she saw the movement.

“Where are ye goin’, Siddie?”, Kryimsson asked.

“I’ll just be a minute.”, Mysidia said yelling over her shoulder.

The stench of stale seaweed and brine shot up her nose as she made her way under the docks. She carefully looked around to see what the little boy saw, but there didn’t seem to be anything around. She looked at the huge lump of tangled seaweed floating and bobbing in the water. She reached out and grabbed it, looking it over.

“Hmm…”, she thought. Perhaps this is what she saw. But those red eyes…?

She heard something grunt above her. Quickly she looked up and saw two red eyes looking directly into hers. Drool dripped off of finely shaped and defined tusks. Her eyes followed down what appeared to be leather armor, but she didn’t get a chance to scream out.

Before she could even take in a breath, she felt the crash on her head and darkness quickly came after.

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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.

__________________

MysidiaDrakkenbane

It was a rather warm autumn day in Graystone Yard. Machene was busy toiling away helping Raevenwolf build her ship. She had more than enough money now, with that recent shipment of griffon feathers selling at top market price. She explained to Machene that it would keep his hands busy while Mysidia made her way back to Qeynos and Raeven had more than enough eyes watching, that the moment Mysidia stepped foot near Qeynos, word would have gotten to both of them.

Machene was happy enough with that. Norrath was still a rather large world to be searching for one person in and he had gotten word that her two brothers were with her. He felt safer knowing that. She was in capable hands.

Sweat rolled off his bare back and down his enormous shoulders. He stood up and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, stretching out his back. Raeven came by and handed him a large flask of water. Machene accepted it gratefully.

“Looks like it’ll be ‘nother warm t’day.”, Raeven said taking a breather. Large sweat stains “v’ed” down her traveling tunic on the front and back and a few sweaty strands wired around her red splotched face.

Machene grunted taking a rather large refreshing swig from the flask. “I think we can get your ship finished by the end of the month, if we keep at this pace. That and if the weather complies.”

Machene looked up and his brows began to furl as he watched a rather unusually marked hawk fly fiercely into town. He watched with great curiosity as the hawk flew into the open doors of Pergy’s tavern. He raised an eyebrow down at Raeven who was watching the flying bird intently.

“It’s about time for lunch, don’t you think?”, Machene said and smiled.

It didn’t take the two of them long to start making their way towards the tavern. And it also didn’t take them long to hear the frantic screams of Pergy trying usher the hawk out of her tavern.

“[expletive haxx0red by Raijinn] it, bird, OUT!”, Machene and Raeven heard her scream. Machene couldn’t help but give a chuckle as they walked inside.

“Ah, good, Machene… Help me get this bird out of here.”, Pergy said as she was standing on a chair with a broom.

“Aw, come on, Pergy. You know your chowder is famous around these parts. Perhaps the hawk heard about it too.”, Machene jested.

“Ugh. The sooner you help me with this, the sooner you can eat.”, Pergy said with annoyance flickering in her eyes.

“Well now wait a minute, Pergy. There’s somethin’ attached to it’s leg..”, Raeven said peering at the scrap of paper secured to its foot.

After looking closer at the bird Machene nodded. “That’s no ordinary hawk.”

Pergy paused for a moment and peered at the bird. She sighed and got down from her chair and walked behind the bar. She pointed down and said, “Well? Are you going to come down or what?”

The hawk chirped and Raeven said, “How do ye know tha’s even fer ye, Pergy? Fer all we know, tha could be for summin’ else.”

“Familiars just don’t fly around all willy nilly, Raeven. If that bird flew in here, it has a mission to deliver that message to me.”, Pergy said then placed her hands on her hips looking at the hawk.

“Well?”, she said cross. The bird chirped at her again. She grumbled, “Fine. I’m sorry for trying to kill you with the broom.”

Machene wandered over to the door to get some fresh air. Working out in the heat all morning began to work its fatigue on him and he found the breeze quite soothing. He began to pick at a small loaf of bread he picked up while watching Pergy and Raeven usher the hawk down from its perch.

It was business as usual in Graystone Yard and everyone was getting ready for the winter that was coming. Various Dwarven and Barbarian women alike were buying huge mason jars as well as canning jars to store the food during the colder months.

Machene took another small bite of the loaf and watched the guards mill about, his green eyes calmly watching the dim around him.

“Bah. Th’ blasted thin’ is in Kerran. It’s not fer ye, Pergy.”, Raeven announced disappointed.

“Don’t be too sure…”, Pergy returned quietly.

Just then the huge wooden gates to Graystone Yard busted open and two large men came charging down on horseback as though hell itself was chasing their heels.

“MACHENE!!! MACHENE!!!!”, the larger of the two yelled. Machene looked up shocked at the sound of his name and immediately recognized the man shouting it.

“Kryimsson! HERE!!”, Machene said and waved his arms.

Raevenwolf and Pergy rushed towards the door to see the Kryimsson and Xerbius galloping towards the tavern door. They both jumped off their horses and marched right up to Machene.

Machene embraced Xerbius and Kryimsson. Smiles were wide all around.

“It’s good to see you again, brother.”, Xerbius said, “I had thought the worst.”

“Tunare still has need for me, apparently.”, Machene said nodding.

“I wish this were a happy reunion, brother, but…”, Kryimsson said and paused, his blue eyes were riddled with fear.

“Mysidia…”, Machene could barely get the name out. A large lump of white fear began to choke itself within his chest and throat.

Xerbius nodded, “She’s in danger. Orcs ransacked Thundering Stepps dock and…”

“Is …is she…?”, Machene couldn’t bear to think of the worst.

“Siddie was alive when they took ‘er. But I dunno fer how long.”, Kryimsson said gravely.

Machene turned to Raevenwolf with a plea in his eyes. Raeven nodded without even thinking.

“Go to ‘er, Machene. I can hire a crew to finish th’ ship.”, Raeven said patting his arm.

When Machene turned to Pergy, he raised an eyebrow when he saw a large bag with various herbs and salves, most of which he recognized as ones Mysidia used to use.

“The note was actually for you, Machene. A leather and fur trader by the name of Austforbeer requested your help.”, Pergy said handing him the crumpled piece of paper.

“He lives in Nettleville. His wife apparently cared for your woman while she was in a coma and he fears his own wife’s life is danger.”, she said and nodded to the note.

“So what are you doing?”, Machene asked looking at Pergy.

“Helping. You are needed elsewhere, Machene. I can help Aust.”, Pergy said smiling softly. “We all were something else before the shattering.”

“Go, Machene. I will watch af’er Pergy.”, Raeven said nodding confidently.

Machene’s green eyes softened as he looked at his friends. “Thank you.”, his voice fell soft.

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

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Mysidia sat in darkness listening to the lonely sounds of water trickling dismally through the cells. She surmised that this is what hopelessness sounded like.

She wasn’t entirely sure how long she had been up or there. The wound on her head started to heal, at least, to her knowledge. She could have been blind for all she knew. There was never any light down where she was…where ever she was.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

The sounds of the water echoed delicately off the stone walls around her and the stench of mold and dirt crowded around her. Her eyes had started to adjust to the lack of light as she began to see small shadows shift around her. In hearing the tight squeals, she knew them to be rats scurrying about.

The Dwarf across from her in the adjacent cell kept her company when he was there. They kept taking him at intervals during the day… night… day? It was so hard to determine what time of day it was down there. Regardless, she could hear the orcs grab the dwarf and drag him off where ever only to be dropped off a few hours later.

This time, the dwarf was brought back and she could hear the groans of pain escaping from his cell.

“Are you all right?”, Mysidia whispered.

“Bastards beat me good…”, the dwarf grunted.

Mysidia stood up and felt around on the walls. Her fingers stroked over a rather large fat vine. She snapped a piece of it off and took a small bite, hoping to recognize the taste. A starchy bitterness attacked her tastebuds and she spit out the little bit she had taken.

Good, she thought to herself.

“Here.”, she said waving her hand outside her cell. “Rub the juice of the vine on your wounds. It’ll help with the infection. Just…tell me where to throw it. I still can’t see that well.”

“Right in front of ye, lass. And a good toss.”, he said as he scooted near the bars.

She sighed and silently prayed her aim was good enough. She released the vine from her hand and heard a satisfactory “thung” of the vine hitting the bars. A wide happy smile spread across her face.

“Thank ye.”, he said taking the vine.

She heard the distinct sound of the dwarf sucking in the air as the familiar sting of the vine’s juice disinfected the wounds.

“Sorry to say, it does nothing for the pain, though.”, Mysidia added. “What’s your name?”

“Drus. Yours?”, he asked in the darkness.

“Mysidia.”, she said quietly. The dripping water took over the conversation for a few moments before she interrupted it again, “Where do they take you when you leave here?”

Drip… Drip… Drip…

“When they come for ye, lass, just do as they say.”, Drus answered dubiously.

Suddenly, the sounds of heavy footsteps dragging entered the hallway. Mysidia’s fear began to lump in her throat as the panic of the unknown began to choke her. She could see the glow of two red eyes looking down at her.

“The woo-man ish awake.”, she heard the orc say through his largely tusked mouth.

“Arrh. Bring her then.”, she heard a gruffer orc’s voice say.

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MysidiaDrakkenbane

Orcs are no stranger to torture. Many of the different races regarded the Orcs as nothing but ignorant war loving animals. And in partial, they were right. However, they were more intelligent than most would believe, and as long as the rest of the world thought this way, they could go undetected on what they were doing.

Days in the darkness had changed Mysidia’s vision, and suddenly being slammed into the light caused her nearly to go blind. The immediate headache shot behind her eyes and caused her to tear up. She tried to blink away the sudden shock and pain, but the only thing that she could distinguish were several moving blobs around her as her vision was blurry.

“Leave her.”, she heard a voice say. She looked up sharply as she couldn’t tell who or what was talking to her. The voice was deep, rough, like an orc’s, but held no lisp or typical garble due to overgrown tusks and teeth.

“You will have to excuse me if your vision is under par. It keeps our captives docile while we conduct our interrogations.”, the voice said.

Mysidia said nothing but continued to blink away the tears and blurriness. The only thing she could hear was the roaring of torches and scent the rank of orc sweat and dirt around her. There was also a faint scent trickling through the air that she could almost place, but due to the overhanging orc smell around her, she couldn’t focus on it.

“Where am I?”, she decided to say. The moment her mouth opened however, she felt the distinct pain of something smacking against the back of her skull. Whatever vision she had gotten back, was quickly taken away by the intense pain of being hit. She could quickly feel the lump being formed.

“I will be asking the questions for now.”, the voice said. “Who are you?”

Mysidia didn’t answer as the waves of thudding pain washed over her head. She then caught a good back hand to her mouth enforcing her to speak. She felt the shot of blood enter her mouth and spray on her tongue.

She growled and looked up sharply, “Mysidia!”

There was a small pause as she heard another orc laugh. “Der ish a lot of fight in dish woo-man.”

“There always is… at first.”, the voice replied.

She heard a quick shuffle on the ground as someone approached her. She felt a strong hand grab her chin forcing her to look up at them. She opened her eyes and saw the muscular blurry figure standing before her. She couldn’t make out anything else.

He turned her head from side to side to get a better look at her and she heard him grunt and return from where ever he was.

“Stand her up.”, the voice said.

She then felt two orcs on either side of her, squeeze her arms, pinching her underarm, jolting her up on her feet. She nearly tripped and fell over, but regained her footing.

“I was told that you, and a few others managed to take out most of my raiding party.”, the voice said. “When I first saw you, I couldn’t understand why. Now that I’ve had a closer look… Well, I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own two eyes.”

Mysidia peered into the fuzziness before her and began to make out the figure that continued to speak. There was no mistaking it, the voice belonged to an orc.

“You are not an elf.”, the voice nearly accused. She wasn’t sure if it was a question, but decided to answer anyway to defuse whatever hit would come her way.

“No.”, she answered softly.

She heard him give a soft chuckle. “You learn quickly. So tell me, unless my eyes are deceiving me in my old age.”

Mysidia struggled with the answer a bit, as she remembered the battle with the orcs her people had. “They do not deceive you. I am Rydian.”

She heard several of the orcs grunt and growl in her direction. She held her ground, refusing to show her fear.

“Well, now, you do place me in a predicament, don’t you? I could sell you off as a slave to the Iksar. I’m certain the irony isn’t wasted on you. But I imagine you wouldn’t last long, with the Iksar I have in mind…”, the voice said in amusement.

Mysidia shot a look at him, fear draining the color out of her face.

“Ah, so you think the old traditions died with the past?”, he said noticing her expression. “For the most part, yes. But there are a few tribes that still remember their roots. Pity. That was one of the only reasons I had standing to like them.”, he said in a mocking tone. She heard a few of the other orcs snicker at the comment.

“But what to do…what to do…”, he said thinking. “What say you, bretheren? Do we sell her? Or… keep her for our own amusement?”, he said. And she could hear the grin coming through his voice.

A thunderous roar surrounded her causing her to flinch under such a sound. They began to chant “Keep her! Keep her!”

He snickered. “My bretheren have spoken. It looks like you stay.”

By this time, Mysidia’s vision had returned to her and she could clearly make out an older orc sitting on a rather ornate wooden throne of some sort. He wasn’t a king, she was certain of that, as he wasn’t wearing anything royal. But with the way he was dressed, he was held in high regards.

She was in a chamber deep within where ever she was and the floor was gore covered and blood stained. No doubt from previous interrogations. Several orc guards lined the walls and all seemed to be looking at her, frothing at the mouth.

She looked down at her shackled wrists and noticed a rather crude but distinct rune carved in each one. She surmised this symbol was the reason why her magic didn’t work. She then noticed several of the same symbols lining the walls and on the door. The whole compound was protected.

The older orc observed her looking around and nodded slowly. “You’ve been trained very well. Even now, you are still looking for a way out. I am rather surprised to say that I look forward to watching you.”, he said nodding to one of the guards. “Take her to the holding chamber. We’ll pair her up later.”

The guards picked her up and one of them pinched her underarm again. Raising her ire, she turned to the guard and headbutted him in the face, causing his nose to break. Green black blood gushed down the front of his face and sprayed on the front of her already stained slave’s clothes.

The elder orc grinned evilly at what he had witnessed. The other guard slammed his hammer into the back of her leg, causing her to fall. They quickly escorted her out of the room.

“Dis one hash more fight then the rest of dem.”, the massive orc said, as he stood beside the elder orc’s chair.

“She does, doesn’t she? There is something about this woman… Something I cannot place.”, the elder orc said, his voice drifting. “Place a guard on her to watch her. Bring the dwarf to the adjacent chamber. You said they were talking, yes? Perhaps she will reveal more with a more suitable…companion.”

The thought of having a Rydian in his grasp gave him new possibilities. He could break her and force her to teach his ranks the lost warrior secrets of her race. He thought about making her a breeder and creating a powerful half orc, half Rydian race to join in the army. It wouldn’t take much to convince a few of his men to [expletive haxx0red by Raijinn] the woman. He already noticed how a few looked at her. He even toyed with the idea of keeping her as his own personal slave.

He thought it best, however, to just keep things as they were. He wasn’t about to change her status until he learned more about the violet eyed creature. She had the courage of a fully trained warrior, there was no mistaking that.

With what he did know, he began to piece together the woman’s past. Mysidia… The Empress Mysidia?? Impossible. She died on the battlefield over five hundred years ago. Her daughter, maybe. Either way, he was greatly amused at his recent stroke of luck.

Rydian.. Wait until the king hears of this…

__________________

MysidiaDrakkenbane

Austforbeer and Maya had finished their tradeskilling for the day and were headed back to their house. Aust complimented Maya on her quick grasp of leatherworking. She was already on to some of the more difficult backpacks that were sure to sell during the early spring. Adventurers always wanted to get an early start on treasure hunting as soon as the winter thaw released its grip on the land.

And as they both rounded the corner, Aust caught a familiar face walking towards them in the distance. The moment he recognized the orange red hair walking towards him, he knew it to be Pergy from Graystone Yard. She was no stranger to some of the leatherworks he had done years prior.

“Pergy, well met. This is my daughter, Maya.”, Aust said with a smile on his face. The moment he saw the look in Pergy’s eyes, he furled his brow with concern.

“What is it?”, he asked. Pergy didn’t say anything but merely looked over at the front door to his house.

His heart fell into his feet when he saw the blood stains on the front. The door frame was slightly splintered and because so, couldn’t close completely. He saw the disarray of the flower pots that used to line the walkway to his house and a white fear began to choke the air out of him. He started to feel the ruff of fur on the back of his neck rise.

“Daddy?”, Maya’s voice said quietly. She looked up into his face for reassurance. She began to tremble from the inside out.

“Stay out here until I tell you its safe…”, Aust said looking down at her. He tried to force a smile to give the child some semblance of safety, but there was no way he could fake the fear that he felt.

Pergy began to speak quietly to Maya as Aust entered his house. The moment he did, he nearly fell to his knees.

What was once a beautiful home, now lay in tatters around him. The lovely wooden furniture that had been made for him and Feja when they were married, had been smashed and broken, laying in pieces around him. All of the ceramic bowls that Feja used to use to make her potions out of, were smashed and several of her herbs had been strewn about.

That’s when he noticed the two huge puddles of blood on the floor right next to the kitchen counter. Deep blood… fresh blood… Feja’s blood…

Aust let out a ferocious roar which caused Pergy and Maya to rush into the house. Maya screamed and fell to her knees when she looked at her home.

“Where is she?”, Aust asked through clenched teeth. His pupils were completely dilated. Had the assailant been in front of him, he would have torn them apart with his own furry hands. If any Kerran looked more like a wild animal, it would have been Aust at that very moment.

“She’s safe, Aust.”, Pergy said.

“…alive?”, he could barely ask.

“Yes.”, Pergy said and grabbed his hand leading him up the stairs into their bedroom. Aust could barely choke back the tears when he saw his beloved wife lying bloody and broken on their bed. Maya ran in and rushed to her mother’s side, crying hysterically.

Aust watched the two of them for a few moments before wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Who was it?”, he asked Pergy.

“I’m not entirely sure. Your wife was on the ground when I got here. The only clue I had was this arrow near her head.”, Pergy said handing Aust a very sharp and intricately cut arrowhead.

Aust could see where Pergy broke the tip off the shaft of the arrow and peered closer at some of the markings on the ironwork. Aust growled low.

“Teir’Dal…”, he mentioned. “What would they want with Feja?”

“I’m not entirely sure. She mentioned that Mysidia was in danger before she passed out.”, Pergy said watching Feja sleep.

“What are you doing here, Pergy?”, Aust finally asked.

“Your hawk dropped off your note. Mysidia’s brothers met up with Machene and said that she had been captured by Orcs. I told Machene that I would come in his stead. Raevenwolf and I have been taking care of Feja since.”, Pergy said quietly.

“Raevenwolf?”, Aust asked curiously. The moment he did, an image shimmered out of the corner of his eye and he saw a very short half elf woman watching him quietly.

“Aye. I thought th’ attacker would come back. Stayed ‘ere to watch yer wife.”, Raeven said.

“I … I don’t know what to say. If it weren’t for you two…”, Aust couldn’t finish the thought. He began to choke up again at the thought of losing his wife.

“Think nothing of it, Aust. I learned a long time ago that everything has a reason and a purpose. Tunare placed me at that tavern so that one day I could save your wife.”, Pergy said and placed a hand gently on his arm. “I’m just glad that I remember most of what my mother taught me.”

“Druid?”, Aust asked curiously. Pergy shook her head.

“Old world Shaman. My father was a Ranger.”, she said.

“How long until she wakes up?”, Aust asked concerned.

Pergy sighed slightly walking over to Feja. She placed a calming hand on Maya to try and soothe the crying Kerran.

“It’s hard to say. The main thing is, she’s alive and will be fine.”, Pergy said giving Maya a reassuring smile. Maya sniffed back her tears and began to quiet her sobs.

“W..Where’s… M…Mysidia?”, Maya asked between her shaking.

Pergy shifted her eyes uncomfortably trying to avoid the topic. Maya had just seen her house destroyed and received news that her mother had been at near death. Telling the young Kerran cub that a close friend was in danger might set her off again.

“You…you said she was in danger…”, Maya said looking with fear to her father.

“Yes, but her husband and two brothers are going to rescue her, Maya.”, Aust said kneeling down to his daughter. “She’s going to be just fine.”

“You… you have to save her, Daddy. Momma said she was in danger. The Darkfury’s are supposed to protect her from all harm. We made that promise…”, the child started to ramble.

Pergy eyed Aust curiously. What was so special about this woman that caused an entire Kerran clan a life pledge and Tunare to give a barbarian a Blessing?

“Your mother is sick, Maya. You don’t want me to leave your mother, do you?”, Aust tried to explain to his little girl. Maya looked down and bit her lip slightly ashamed.

“..Aust…”, the faint name trickled off of Feja’s lips.

Pergy turned to Feja and motioned for Raevenwolf for them to fall out of sight.

Aust quickly turned his attention to his wife and in a flash, was by her side, holding her hand. He winced slightly as he saw the various scratches and wounds that littered his wife’s beautiful face.

“Maya is right.”, she said weakly. “Mysidia is in danger and we must help her.”

“What happened?”, Aust asked, trying to hold back the waves of emotion from taking hold of him.

“Akahsha…”, she said softly.

“Why would she do this to her??”, Aust asked confused.

Feja licked her cracked lips and took in a deep breath. “Not that Akahsha… Her daughter. She is setting out to finish what her mother couldn’t.”

Feja grunted a bit trying to shift her weight in bed. When she felt the sharp pain of her stomach wound, she yelped and fell back into position.

She paused for a moment before continuing. “…We have to help them save her.”

“You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”, Aust said sternly.

“It’s my duty, Aust.”, Feja tried to explain.

“Begging your pardon, Feja, but I haven’t got that kind of power to heal you. I haven’t used it in a very long time…”, Pergy gently interrupted.

Feja looked at Pergy and shook her head. “No… you don’t… but she does.”, she said and pointed to her own daughter.

Maya’s green eyes widen as she looked back at her mother. “I … I don’t know how to do that, Momma…”

“Pergy will teach you.”, Feja said with her voice trailing off. Her dark blue eyes rolled to the back of her head before giving into exhaustion again. Pergy bit her lip and cursed under her breath. Now they were on a time clock.

Aust called out to his wife, but only silence returned. Pergy pushed past him, grabbing Maya gently around the arms.

“Close your eyes, child.”, Pergy said softly.

Aust tried to get to his wife’s side, calling out to her. Pergy turned her head and gave Aust a stern look. “This would go a lot easier if we had silence.”

She turned her attention to Maya who was now shaking with fear. “It’s all right. I’m going to teach you how…”

She bent over the child and held her arms out for her. “Close your eyes and picture this warm golden light…”, Pergy started.

Maya began to picture what the early fall sun looked like against the wheat fields by her house. That color of gold she held clearly in her mind. She stretched out her fingers in front of her as if she tried to touch each strand of wheat.

“Very good… Now picture that light entering you, gently warming your insides…”, Pergy continued. Pergy watched Feja carefully. Blood started to trickle out of the mother Kerran’s mouth. Aust began to pace the floor, trying to keep quiet. The energy within the room was so intense, it almost seemed tangible.

Maya began to feel the golden light warm her from the inside out, like how it feels to get into a warm bed after being in a chilled house from a crisp night.

Outside of Maya’s imagination, Feja began to gently convulse. Pergy closed her eyes and silently prayed to Tunare. They were losing her.

“Ok, Maya, now take that warmth and push it out of you and onto your mother. Like you’re giving her a warm blanket that you had.”, Pergy explained.

Maya’s eyebrows furled under the intense concentration. Pergy really hated putting someone so young through such a hard task, but they were running out of options. Pergy simply didn’t have the power to do what Maya would. And if she had any of her mother’s talent, she would be able to do what Pergy can’t.

With all of her inner strength, Maya pushed that golden light out of her and pictured her warming her mother. At first, nothing happened. But as she began to give her mother more of this “warmth”, a bright golden light began to glow over her mother’s convulsing body.

Maya could feel the knot in her abdomen. She tried with all of her might to push this “knot” out of her body and into the warmth. Somehow, her instincts told her that this was the right thing to do and that this is where her magic resided. Maya’s insides quivered when she began to focus on this knot. She could feel her breath growing short, yet she could feel this golden light around her and on her mother.

The light grew brighter and brighter. It had gotten so bright that Pergy and Aust couldn’t look at it anymore and had to turn their heads away from such intensity.

When Maya couldn’t “push” on the knot anymore, she gasped and limply fell into Pergy’s arms. Aust looked at his daughter in complete awe. He had witnessed his wife casting spells before, and he had seen the same amount of intensity, however this came from an 8 year old girl. No child should have had that amount of power.

Feja opened up her crystal blue eyes and looked at her daughter who was magically fatigued. She gave a huge proud smile and placed her paw like hand on her cheek.

“Did…it work?”, Maya asked faintly.

“Aye, lass… I’d say ye healed th’ rest o’ the block, too..”, Raevenwolf said jesting, but she too was completely speechless about what she had witnessed.

“Yer daughter has quite o’bit of fire power…”, Raeven mentioned quietly to Aust.

“So it would seem.”, he mused back. Aust folded his arms across his chest as it puffed out in pure pride.

__________________

MysidiaDrakkenbane

The slaves’ pens underneath Deathfist Citadel were slightly better than the holding cell they placed her in when she arrived. But that really wasn’t saying much. She had a small cot flush against the left wall and a small pot in the far right corner to serve as her bathroom.

There were a few rats that chirped and skittered about and she found herself having to fight with them in order to keep them away from whatever slop the orcs fed her for the day.

They would take her out of her cell and force her to do usual manual labor. At first, she scrubbed and cleaned whatever they wanted her to; from pots and pans to bloodstained floors and slime covered corridors. As long as she kept to herself and kept silent, they pretty much left her alone.

During her travels around the citadel, she noticed several larger orcs walking towards a very large set of wooden doors. She could hear the unmistakable sound of orcs chanting and grunting in a sort of cheer and the slight scent of dust and death trickled its way out of the splintered cracks in the door.

She narrowed her eyes at the doorway for a moment before becoming startled as one of the orc guards rounded the corner. She quickly moved her attention to the floor in front of her and continued her scrubbing.

The orcs had grown accustomed to seeing her around the citadel and all of them took an unusual delight of having a Rydian as a slave within the confines of their stronghold.

“Ah. Dah slave woo-man is curious. Ha. Ha.”, the guard said as he caught her looking at the doors.

She didn’t answer but continued to scrub. She knew if she had asked, he would have hit her. They would have rather seen her working and not hear her at all.

“Do you want to know what’s inside?”, the orc said getting down fixating his gaze on her face. She looked up and furled her brows in curiosity, but still said nothing.

“Perhaps if you do good here, you will find out one day.”, the guard said and laughed evilly as he walked away.

As he rounded the corner, she stopped again and wiped her brow on her stained sleeve. She looked at the doors curiously once more and sighed, before finishing her floor.

That night, as she emptied her bucket onto the damp earth in the courtyard, four guards began to walk towards her, snickering and grunting in their language. She could understand them, as she had learned the language long before she ever fell into that deep slumber.

From what she could hear, they were up to mischief and most of it dealt with her in some form or fashion. She could feel her blood beginning to run cold as they walked closer.

The guard that was appointed to her, to make sure she didn’t run, started to laugh when he began to hear what his friends were talking about. Mysidia quietly began to grab one of the farming tools leaning up against the wall. She started to mix the water into the dirt with the tool, slowly twisting the metal part of the rake off of the wooden stick.

The four of them surrounded her and one of them reached out and grabbed her long blonde braid, feeling it between his fingers. She swallowed hard, feeling the lump of fear beginning to choke her.

She knew what they wanted. And up until that moment, she had kept far away from their contact to stay out of their minds with that kind of element. Her inner strength, no matter how fast it was fading, kept her silent and her mind open and thinking.

The orc that stood to the left of her ran a finger down her arm. She could feel the bile build up in the back of her throat. They all laughed and made a few crude comments about what actions they were going to take on her.

The situation was growing severe, quickly. They were beginning to draw a crowd. She looked up into the snickering and sneering faces of her captors. They began to circle around her and hopelessness clung thickly to the sweet night air around them.

One of them finally made the move and grabbed her wrist, causing her to freeze. He began to squeeze his hand, feeling her bones wriggle under his grasp. She winced slightly, but never loosened her grip on the rake she had.

“I’m tired of talk.”, the one orc said in his native tongue. He lunged for her, hoping to throw her off balance, making it easy for them on their vulgar attack.

“That is one freedom I will NOT allow.”, Mysidia recanted, speaking orc. She quickly tugged on the staff, causing the head of the rake to fall into the mud. Now she had a weapon she was proficient in using.

She swung it wide over her head, causing three of the orcs to back off. The fourth one, larger than the other three, lunged for her, since he was nearly at her backside. He crashed into her, causing her to stumble in the fresh mud she had made minutes earlier.

Using her weight and the strength of the staff, she pushed back, causing the orc to stagger in his steps. It gave her the perfect opportunity to strike him swiftly and hard in his nether region. Having the largest of the four down gave her a better advantage.

The orc, grabbing his groin region, dropped to his knees and crossed his eyes in the excruciating pain he was in. The other three orcs looked up shocked, but it quickly turned to anger as they all bum rushed her.

She managed to trip two of them, but the third tackled her to the ground. She fell hard, feeling the wind get knocked out of her from the blow of the fall.

The tackle apparently hurt the orc as well, since he barely moved after the fall. She rolled over onto her side and used her staff to get her up on her feet. She noticed the orc had hit his head on a rock and lay unconscious.

She staggered, gasping to get oxygen into her lungs. The scrapes she received when she fell, began to sting with the mud that had entered in them. Her slave tunic was ripped at the shoulder and fresh blood had bubbled up to the surface.

The orcs never gave her the chance to get her breathing regulated. The two charged her again and nearly tripped her. She held on to her staff, falling to her knees. She felt the sick thud of the slap against her skull and she yelped in pain. Her vision blurred from the blow.

She swung her staff outward in front of her and felt it catch against the side of one of the orcs. She could hear the distinct sound of a rib or two cracking under her force. Her vision snapped back just in time to see the last standing orc charging her. At this point, the crowd they had drawn were cheering and hollering at them. Some chanted “Get her!” others jeered at how well Mysidia was doing.

The remaining orc and her guard wizened up and drew their daggers they had sheathed. She held her staff out in front of her to stop whatever would come her way. One orc swung to the front of her and the other, around the back. They executed a pincer attack with little to no effort and Mysidia began to panic.

Before she could react, a dagger swiped at her arm, and she could feel her skin tear from the edge of the knife. She screamed as she felt the sharp pain mangle her flesh. She swung her staff high over her head and swiftly down, connecting it against one of the orc’s skull. A thick black stream of orc blood shot out of his nose and mouth.

High above the commotion, the elder orc watched with a morbid curiosity. His massive bodyguard grunted in a slight approval.

“For using what little she has, she is a rather agile fighter.”, the elder said approvingly.

“How can you let dish woo-man get away with such insholence?”, the large orc said.

“It’s their own fault they left such a weapon unguarded. Let this teach them the lesson. That way, I won’t have to.”, he replied.

The large orc winced as he watched Mysidia stab her staff into the unsuspecting skull of one of the orcs. She gave a grim satisfactory grin as she felt his skull cave into the pressure.

The elder held his hand up. “Enough!”, he roared.

Everyone stopped short and looked up at the interruption. Mysidia, who was bloody and gasping for breath, brushed aside a bloody strand of her hair, her violet eyes defiant.

The elder orc nodded to a few in the distance and before Mysidia could protest, the grabbed her by the arms. “Bring her to my chambers. The rest of you clean this up. You will be getting a reprimand later.”, he said.

Mysidia’s head was bagged with an old dusty burlap sack. She coughed as the copious amounts of dust invaded her mouth and nostrils. She could feel herself being dragged and sucked in her breath as she felt her wounds get pinched.

She heard the distant sound of heavy doors opening and she was thrown to the floor and the sack ripped off her head. She looked up sharply and saw the elder orc sitting on an ornate chair. Plates of food were scattered about the table in front of him and she felt her stomach knot under the hunger she felt.

“That was quite a show you put on.”, he started. She kept her silence.

“I can’t say that I’m pleased with your behavior, Mysidia.”, he said shoving a piece of mutton in his mouth. The smells of the food made her mouth water and she found herself swallowing quite often.

When the orc noticed her kept silence, he grunted. “You may speak.”

“Menial chores are one thing, but I will protect myself every chance I get. If they had not provoked me, I wouldn’t have attacked.”, she said gingerly bringing her legs closer to her. She looked at one of her shoulders and began to fidget with the wound, now angry and swollen from the mud that entered it.

“Noted. You do realize that I can’t let this indiscretion go unpunished.”, he said looking at her. She bit her lip and looked down, feeling the fear take hold of her again.

She fought with all her strength, to hold back the tears, but exhaustion, frustration, and fear forced through her iron will and they began to stream down her face. The orc watched her for a few moments before continuing.

“Twenty lashings I think should suffice.”, he said and watched her reaction, “..unless you can give me a more suitable punishment. I am not without reason.”, he said continuing his meal.

She looked up as two tears fell. “What would you want of me?”

The large bodyguard approached the elder and whispered something in his ear. The elder’s eyes lit up and he began to give a small laugh.

“Why, yes! I believe that is a wonderful idea.”, the elder exclaimed. “You will serve your punishment in the arena, Mysidia. If you survive your fight, you live to see another day. If you lose…well… No loss on my part and the beatings you will take will serve in place of your lashings.”

Mysidia’s eyes widen with disbelief. She looked down at her shackles. “Without my magic?”, she asked.

“Well.. yes. That would give you an unwarranted advantage and we can’t have that, now can we?”, he said grinning wickedly. He nodded to the guards that brought her there. “Take her to her cell and have the shaman see to her wounds. Rest well, Rydian. You will need it.”

When they placed the sack over her head again, she let the tears flow freely. She was doomed to die in that wretched place. At the very least, they were going to let her die in battle. She knew, however, that none of the ceremonies would have been done for her, none of the prayers or proper burial procedures. Tunare would simply have to forgive them. What was once a proud and thriving race has now been reduced to arena fodder.

They tossed her in her cell and locked the door behind them. She knew that the shaman, to treat her wounds, wouldn’t be by until much later. So with what little water they gave her, she began to clean and treat her wounds as best she could.

She watched a few rats scurry about and noticed them walking around this particular spot. She watched their behavior for a few moments before continuing on her wound. When she felt that the guards were no where in ear shot range, she spoke to the spot on the ground.

“You can go ahead and come out. There is no one around to catch you.”, Mysidia said to the ground.

As if on cue, the image shimmered and before Mysidia, stood a very well dressed and heavily adorned ratonga necromancer. Mysidia’s eyebrows furled with deep curiosity. And much to her surprise, the necromancer bowed with a deep respect.

“Meesa sorries to be sneakings up on youssa like dis. Buts meesa didn’t thinks that deys would gives meesa a private audiences…”, the ratonga said and smirked slightly.

“And you would probably be right.”, Mysidia said growing ever more curious about her “visitor”.

“And you are….?”, Mysidia asked.

“Oh! A thousand pardons. Meesa Aconitine, and meesa is very honored to meets youssa.”, Aconitine said and bowed again.

“Aconitine…”, Mysidia said and chuckled. “Wolfsbane?”

“Oh! Youssa knew messas twin!”, Aconitine said and gave a bright smile.

“Uh… no… Aconitine is… you know, never mind.”, Mysidia said shaking her head. She doubted that Aconitine knew the actual meaning of her name anyway, so she let the topic drop. “I’m not going to bother asking how you got in…”

“Meesa sneaks onto the ships that brings youssa here. Meesa had to brings youssa a message…”, Aconitine said, her face growing very serious.

“Well, you’re here. Go ahead.”, Mysidia said, easing onto her straw palate.

“Youssa in grave dangers, Queenie Lady.”, Aconitine said putting her head down.

Mysidia laughed outright. The moment her body began to shake under the laughter, the sharp pain shot through her insides and she winced slightly.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly safe, here.”, Mysidia said in a snarkish tone. “You’re a tad late on the deliverance, Aconitine.”

“No..”, Aconitine said shaking her head. “Youssa have a lot bigger problems than dis.”

“Oh? Like what?”, Mysidia asked slightly cross. Adding and compounding her horrific day wasn’t placing her in the best of moods.

“Not whats… Whos.”, Aconitine replied.

“Well?”, Mysidia said impatiently.

“Akahsha.”, Aconitine whispered.

__________________

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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