Four Women Pt. 01

Kodahka performed a short ceremony and it brought up memories of her own days in the Priesthood of Torin. She had administered the rights of death to more than one comrade.

Shortly after the fall of Thelite the group known simply as The Seven, found themselves in the city formerly known as Thel-Thelite, not yet changed to its modern name of NorFanton. Acting for their own reasons, they had infiltrated the Grand Cathedral of Pset, and had set fire to it. Most of the cathedral had been destroyed. To this day only the burned out ruins of the evil hall still stands.

The raid had not been with out its cost. A comrade, a warrior known as Perigan, had taken a fatal sword thrust in the melee of their flight. They had dragged him from the ruins as they made their escape across the city. Neshendra and the Priestess Abith had done their best to heal the warrior..., but it was too late. She would never forget that funeral. There was great sorrow in all of the faces of the band. Tears streamed down her own face and the dwarf, Drahg, had paid his own tribute by singing the Dwarven Death Chant. This was the highest praise a Dwarf could give a fallen companion, and they were all moved by the honor he gave to their comrade. Neshendra and Abith, a Dwarven Priest of Alin Tarkerin^[5], had both performed the rights of death upon the grave of their friend. They were all grief stricken, but also knew that their friend Perigan would not have minded giving his life in such a noble cause. The destruction of the Psetians' most unholy place had been a great defeat for the foul religion.

In the days that followed Neshendra and Dravis began to fall in love. Dravis comforted her in the loss of her family. Slowly she began to heal, to accept the loss of her loved ones. The love of Dravis was not a replacement, but helped to keep her from drowning in her own grief, and guilt.

Meanwhile the little band of adventurers took some time off from the adventuring life. They spent the time in the small town that sat as a juncture between Spendecar, Deepfire, Thel-Thelite and the once great city of Thelite. This town known as the Cross Roads,was growing as a place of commerce. Times were not at there best, though, as the threat of the Psetians grew with each passing day.

They made love. It had been a time of glory for the girl, still not truly a mature woman. She thought that she had it all. The life of the adventuring Priest, and the love of a good man. Certainly she missed her family, but her love of Dravis helped to diminish her pain.

Then the group moved on. Neshendra and her comrades found themselves in one after another enterprise. Life was oft dangerous, but she relished in the adventure that they lived. Only one thing marred this almost perfect existence. As the days passed, Dravis began to seem distant. At first she thought that perhaps she misread him, but over time it became obvious that he was growing apart from her.

"Dravis..., will you marry me? Will you give your heart unto mine?"

"Oh my love... I am a Bard. The road is my bride, the music I play..., my mistress. Oh we have been so good together, but..."

"Then you..., you never intended..."

"Have I mislead you..., my love? Have I made promises?"

The tears streamed down her face as the seasoned Priest of Torin ran from their shared room. She left her friends that day. She had decided that she could no longer commit her life to the Priesthood. She had planned on leaving it for Dravis anyway, for Priests of Torin are not allowed to marry. Neshendra no longer felt worthy to wear the mantle of Priestess of Torin.

The Gauntlet

Another week passed and travel through the endless growth became no less arduous. The jungle was intermittently dense, occasionally clear, as they traveled its lush environs. Neshendra had never considered herself a great leader, and now she found that she had to practice every skill of persuasion, intimidation, and bribery, that she had ever learned.

The climate grew even hotter and more humid. The party had been unable to find fresh water for days. Kodahka had been casting his magic to purify water, but even with that the water barrels were running perilously low.

It was the seventh afternoon following the battle with the archers. Durnin took Neshendra aside, "If we don' fin' water soon, we are goin' ta' be in real trouble."

"I know corporal," Neshendra replied, "Let's not dwell on it. If we have to, we'll stop for a couple of days and have Kodahka purify some of this stagnant water that we keep passing."

"Aye, ma'am."

More days passed in the endless morass. Somewhere after the attack by the Elven Archers the band of adventurers had completely lost track of the diminishing trail. The going had become more and more difficult and Neshendra found herself spending most of the trek in cajoling the mercenaries. She was astounded that they did not understand that their only hope in getting through, was in putting as many miles as possible behind them each day.

"Come lads..., on your feet! Let's get going!" Her cry after a short lunch break on the eleventh day after the attack by the Elven archers. Her party of mercenaries moaned and groaned as they gained there feet, but they finally did stand and begin to continue forward leading their tired horses.

After the lunch break Durnin had volunteered to take the lead and with it the arduous task of trail blazing. Neshendra found herself in the rear, Timian just in front of her on the narrow track. Neshendra was tired, enjoying a little break from the role of leader and all that went with it. She was reaching back for her water bag when from the front of the line she heard one of the men cry out.

Suddenly the jungle itself was alive..., animate. Vines were shooting from about her, grabbing her arms and pinning them against her torso. And then her legs... The rope-like appendages wrapped around her right leg, and she was pulled from her horse hitting the ground hard causing her to see flashes of light. She could hear the muffled cries of the others as she began to be dragged along the jungle floor, both her legs now pinned by the animate vines. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, she was pulled across the rough ground. Neshendra then felt that her feet were tangled in the gnarled stump of a tree, or perhaps some long dead vines. She was not sure, as she could not see, but what ever it was between her feet, she attempted to hold on to as she struggled to free herself. It was to no avail as the vines yanked her free from her foothold and crushed her chest even harder, squeezing all but the last of her breath from her body.

Neshendra knew that she had only short minutes until the life was squeezed from her body. She feared she would be eaten by what ever was pulling her inexorably towards it. Using an old trick taught by one of the instructors at the Cathedral of Power, Neshendra completely relaxed, giving herself some small movement and perhaps a chance. As Neshendra felt the first signs of loss of consciousness, as black dots began to swirl at the corners of her vision, she slowly began to stretch her hand down her body towards her boot. She bent as much as she was able reaching for the Dagger sticking from the top of her right boot. Closer and closer. A little more freedom... She felt she had a real chance now. And images... Images of her sister, Delia. She was dancing in the moonlight of some Thelitian celebration. The fes..., the Festival of Light... Now Neshendra felt as if she were in a warm bath. It felt so good..., Dravis gently washing her back...

Come awake! Oh Gods she needed air. Something hard..., something hard and wooden in her hand. The Dagger! Her arm, somehow free. The last of her energy...; she pulled her arm away from her body and, turning the blade, plunged it with as much power as she could muster into the spongy wetness that was the vine wrapped around her chest. And then nothing...

She lay on her back gasping for air, fighting to become fully conscious. Neshendra was unsure how much time had passed. Her vision slowly returning and... The others! Oh God's the others, she thought. And now she could hear. She could hear thrashing about and the scream of a terrified horse.

Oh God's I have to stand. Mightily she strove to fight off the dizziness, to stand and help her companions. Battling to stay conscious she was finally able to gain her feet and push her way through the hanging vines and tall grass. Neshendra pushed and struggled in the direction in which she had heard the sounds. Her progress seemed agonizingly slow and she cried out in frustration at the fear that gripped her heart. Finally she broke through and beheld a horrible sight.

There were eight of them. Giant things. A few feet between each, unevenly spaced across a plant-clogged glade. Plant things with huge maws ringed with razor sharp, six inch teeth. They looked as mutated sunflowers. Some of these sunflowers were gorging on one of the horses and one of the men. It was Dregor and he had been ripped in two. His upper torso was being dragged towards one of the maws. It was facing him, his dead eyes staring into space. Another of the creatures was chewing with an ugly grinding sound upon the other half of his body. She realized with revulsion that she knew this because she recognized his boots as it swallowed the last of him.

Then the controlled anger that always proceeded her into battle. Her comrades were all about her, most unconscious or perhaps worse. Neshendra withdrew her sword and began chopping at the vines like a madwoman. She was screaming with rage as she tossed a dagger uselessly into the maw of the creature that had eaten her friend. Slowly, as she continued to hack at these animated monstrosities, her men began to come awake. The plants continued to attack her. One after another the foul things attempted to wrap around her, or whip at her head. She fought furiously and soon she was not alone, her comrades stood aside her also battling the creatures. And finally they were all on there feet.

"Move, move... Get away. I'll cover your retreat!!" She yelled as they began to gather themselves and try to escape the vile monsters.

Neshendra suddenly noticed Kodahka arise from the jungle growth. Somehow, he had freed himself from the creature that had held him. He began to perform strange gesticulations and to speak in the Arcane language of the Priesthood of his God. Kodahka made a final gesture and then pointed his hands towards the creatures and flames burst forth from his hands, engulfing the foul monsters. Moving his hands back and forth, he directed the flames at one after another of the beasts. Neshendra felt a moment of satisfaction as she heard the monsters begin to scream in pain.

"Run!," he yelled above the flames to Neshendra and any of the others that might remain,

"All will be aflame about here! Run!"

Neshendra did as the Priest instructed and ran in the direction that her men had taken. She ran with the smell of burning flesh in her nostrils and she was unsure whether it was horse, or man. Eventually the group stopped. They gathered their collective breaths atop a small hill that Neshendra believed was south and east of the road that they had been following. She couldn't be sure, as they had been unable to find the road for many days. Neshendra had been concerned about the fire spreading but soon realized that the wet undergrowth was preventing it from burning too fast. It appeared that the wetness of the plant life would stop the flames from spreading altogether.

Meanwhile Galinon, the younger of the two guards that she had stood watch with that first night, had somehow been separated in all the confusion. They spent hours calling out to him, looking in the area around where they had gathered. Neshendra doubted that they would ever see the lad again. Either one of the monsters had gotten him, or he was hopelessly lost in the Ingel.

All of the horses were gone. Water would now be less of a problem as there were fewer men, and no horses. Now, though, food would be the real problem. The group all rested, Neshendra worrying over what should be their next move.

That night the group rested underneath the gnarled and ugly branches of a fig tree. The following morning Neshendra roused her men, and after eating a few of the ripe fruit they had quickly picked, the group pushed hard to put miles behind them. Neshendra kept silently berating herself. Less than four weeks into this journey and I've lost half of my men. We'll be lucky to last another week at this rate, she thought to herself. She kept her worry private, though, realizing that it was doing her nor her men any good.

And then their luck seemed to turn. That very evening they came upon an obvious deer run. Although no hunter herself, Skel an older guard from the east was excited about the discovery. According to him, it meant that water had to be near by and that perhaps they would get lucky and soon have fresh deer meat.

They had only traveled half of that day, but decided to wait out the hours until dusk anyway. As luck would have it, a doe and her fawn did come down the run. Though not the normal prey for the desperate hunters, necessity forced them to try for the mother and its young offspring.

They had covered their scent as well as they could, but the group almost lost the two animals as at the last second the doe seemed to catch their scent. Timian and Skel reacted quickly. Each brought down a prize with a quick bow shot. The men all gave thanks to Madrak, the God of the Hunt, and then had a small celebration as they cut the meat and cooked it around the fire. The group had decided to chance the fire as they wished to dry some of the meat to take upon the journey with them. They did all this after following the deer run to where the dear and fawn had been going. The hunters had been correct, for just a few hundred yards through the heavy thicket they found a spring with fresh, cool, water. Kodahka would not have to expend his strength in casting his Purify Water spell.

The group made camp far enough away from the spring, so that the animals of the jungle could come to drink in the night. All that night, and the following day, they rested and drank plenty of water. The group jerked the venison, eating some of it. All of their water bags filled, they set out the second morning after one more drink from the spring.

A few more sameness filled days passed for the weary adventurers. The band had made camp in the lee of a dead fall. Neshendra sat upon a small log, basking in the glow of small fire. Since the fight with the plants travel had been much faster and as water was no longer a worry, the journey had actually become easier. Timian and Skel were on watch when Durnin sat down beside her. It was just the two of them.

"Ya' done as good as any coulda', ya' know. Gosh..., when I come through an' back, the trail were still mostly there. Ya' see a caravan from down south ways had jus' cut through."

"So you have been through the Ingel..."

"Yeah..., an' lucky we ain't seen the little ones."

"The little ones...?"

"Yeah'n they attacked my friends both comin' an' goin'. Short little evil lookin' men. An' so many ovem'. They all had sharp an' deadly spears..."

"Thanks..., you're really cheering me up."

"Ah..., theys' nothin'. Ya' got us through the ugly plants an' they was much tougher than any little people. I never seen the like before..."

"So why chance this place again? And don't tell me it's the money."

"Five crowns..., that's a lot of money." Neshendra said nothing. She sat looking away from the fire waiting for him to continue. "But no... Not the only reason. I come as a guard. They was a group of adventurers. Strangers. They had pack animals full of tradin' goods. Truth be..., we ha' much luck an' a quarter the trouble we ha' this trip. Course their was uh' lot more of' us. Any road... We gets to this town, an the next thing us guards knows is that these assassins is attackin' us. They keeps tryin' again an' again. Then we kills one of these here assassins, an' there's another! They keeps comin'. They was after this red-haired She-Elf that was part of the group. Every where we go they is there. I mean..., we stayed with it for awhile. But then the other men..., they come to me..."

"You left." Neshendra said finishing his sentence.

"Yeah... An' I feel like I lost myself after that an' all. I feels like I gots' ta' make amends. I gots' ta' go an' find that red-haired Elf an' somehow..., I don' know. I hope it ain't too late..."

I ngel

Some how they marched on. Hours turned to days, days into weeks. Food safe to eat was scarce, but somehow they managed to fend off starvation with hunting and judicious foraging.

Neshendra had completely lost her reference points. Durnin was no help as he was as lost as was she. For days the group had been following the mountains as the going was easiest at the base of the mountains of the Ingel, but Neshendra knew that at some point she and her companions would have to turn due south and away from those mountains. This because Neshendra had heard in passing that the mountains turned eastward from there southern track at some point in the vast Ingelian Jungle.

Eight weeks into their journey, as the sun filtered its rays through the surrounding jungle one morning, Neshendra decided to get her bearings. "We are going to take a break today. I am going to climb the mounts we follow and see what I may see. I'll return before sundown, but if I don't..., continue... Move on tomorrow. Turn due south, whence you can. Should I have trouble, Durnin..., you are in charge."

There was some discussion among the others that she should not go alone, but she finally prevailed in her wishes as the others knew she would not be dissuaded. With all argument finished, she began her climb.

After she was out of sight Durnin took one of the group aside. "Follow 'er Skel. You be keepn' close. Don' be afraid to come to 'er aid, an'..., you jus' keep both of ya alive!"

As she traversed the steep hillside the day became overcast and humid. Through the occasional break in the tree cover, she could see gentle but dark clouds building over the mountains in the direction she climbed. A couple of hours into her walk the cloud cover let go. The gentle rain began to fall and Neshendra welcomed the break from the sameness of the weather. As she glanced about her taking a breath while she looked for the easiest way up the mountain, she thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. After a few seconds she saw nothing, and so decided that she must have imagined it.

Climbing higher she reveled in the break from the thick jungle. The higher she climbed the more clear the air and the foliage. Although true that the climb had been a necessary thing, Neshendra admitted to herself that she was enjoying it all the same.

On the spur of the moment, and knowing that she was alone, Neshendra removed all of her clothing and began to scrub them with a rock. That done she frolicked naked in the rain, her sword and mace ever close at hand.

Although thirty-six years old, Neshendra's mixed Elven blood gives her the appearance of a woman a dozen years younger. Skel tried not to watch, but found himself transfixed at the sight of Neshendra naked and dancing in the rain. Her long, wet, tresses slapped back and forth as she turned her head about enjoying the rain falling upon her upturned face. It was an incongruous vision, the soldier that Skel knew acting and appearing as a young and carefree maiden. Turning away in shame he waited hidden behind an outcropping of boulders as she finished.