The Tattooed Woman Pt. 11

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Chapter 11: Death Comes for Us All

Matriarch Arissa rose from her bed in a foul mood. She had always been a woman who enjoyed her pleasures and the sleeping gown she wore was of finest spider silk but tonight, like many of the nights before, it gave her no comfort and sleep had eluded her yet again. She donned a gown of soft wool and tied the sash about her slim waist as she moved away from her bower and towards the door of her chambers.

It was the dreams she mused as she slipped along the upper corridor towards her library. The floor was well polished, and her bare feet made no sound as she walked, passing without thought the many portraits and artworks she had spent centuries collecting. Yes, it was the dreams, images of fire and dread that persistently haunted her when she slept of late and thus, she was coming to despise and fear the bedtime hours with no small passion.

She passed a footman who bowed respectfully in her presence. She barely took note of the man, a human slave who had been brought to her household in chains, like so many others, some years past.

Perhaps a tincture might lighten her mood. She had found through experimentation that certain concoctions would for a time cloud the dreams and allow a night of deep slumber, but she disliked how the same brew would also mire and slow her thoughts. She paused and considered a moment before turning back to the human, "You! Fetch me one of my maids, Kymeera if she is awake, or Saladora, whomever, I care not."

As the footman hurried off on the errand she had set him Arissa resumed her walk to the library where one of the household guards opened the ornate, heavy door at her approach. She glanced at the tall half-orc, resplendent in a well-made gambeson bearing her house crest and favoured the creature with a minuscule nod of acknowledgement. The guard did not speak or appear to heed the gesture as was proper.

Arissa favoured half-orcs as guards, they were generally well-appointed and capable, more handsome she thought than pureblood creatures, but also more easily disciplined. She knew that many considered her a simple hedonist, but her guards were well-trained and equipped, and she had insisted on having a master from the Academy of Swords as trainer. She herself had watched Mistress Camille in the courtyard from time to time. The woman was handsome in a way, but she was also a dour humourless creature who didn't appear to drink or indulge in any earthly pleasure whatsoever, but she was certainly skilled at least.

The Matriarch stepped out onto the broad balcony and looked out over her estate. Hers was one of the most northerly houses and her keen eyes saw the edge of the great Dorcha Coille that bordered much of her lands, the trackless black forest that ran all the way to the Obsidian Mountains in the distance. Her woodsmen and foresters fetched good lumber from the edges of that mighty wood but only monsters and evil spirits lived in the deep and hidden places under that endless sea of trees, and who knew what resided among those pitiless far-off mountain peaks.

Her estate was a remote one, her family having seized the unwanted lands long ago. In fact, the closest settlement was not even of the Fae, for the village of Blackspire lay just across the veil in human lands. She herself had travelled there in the past for there was a slavers market to be found in Blackspire and it was a good source of labour. However, while she found the local fare to be of sturdy enough stock she sometimes despaired at the lack of more refined specimens. For such, she was required to breed them herself or send traders down to the Oppidan delights of the Dark Elven settlements in the Southlands.

An ancient watchtower had been built to guard the road between the human lands and the Fae and a small garrison still stood sentinel at that remote post. Captain Migdara was the current commander of that outpost. Now there was a woman who enjoyed her libations. She was hardly the sharpest arrow in the quiver but at least she had a sense of humour and while her dinner conversation was not the most delicate, she was at least amusing.

Arissa toyed with the brass telescope mounted and placed upon her balcony but was disturbed when Saladora slipped silently into the chamber, moved to her side and bowed respectfully, "You sent for me Mistress?"

Arissa turned to the half-elven woman and tried to smile, "Come now Saladora, you've not worn my collar for almost half a century, I am no longer your Mistress, can you not call me 'Milady', or even by my name if we are not in company?"

The girl gave her a shy smile, "Old habits Milady."

"Was I so cruel to you girl?"

"No Milady, you were not cruel, though I confess the memories of those first years of service are not fond ones for me."

"Eventine, the Housekeeper?"

Saladora grinned, "Yes, she was ever a stickler for protocol and that things were properly done, and she was oft free with that switch of hers. I am curious though, if I may. She was Dökkálfar, how then did she fall to slavery?"

The Dark Elf shrugged, "Oh, her house, like ours were slavers and they thought to be our competitors, so my mother ruined them. When they fell destitute, she further humiliated them by taking their first-born daughter into our service as remuneration of a portion of their debt. Strangely she found the girl, Eventine, rather agreeable, but they were of a kind, both as ruthless and crafty as each other and she swiftly became her favourite. Many suspected, though they dared not even whisper it, that they became rather close."

Arissa chuckled, "It may surprise you to know that I too felt that switch from time to time, for as I said, she was my mother's favourite slave, and mother ran a strict house. I was often sent to Eventine for discipline for I was very much an insolent and precocious child. Did you know my mother offered her freedom more than once, but she always chose to stay? A difficult woman, but loyal in her way I suppose. Was she hard on you?"

The girl laughed, "She was hard on everyone, but no, she did not pick on me in particular, but she had no tolerance of laziness or shirking."

"I did not take you for a shirker Saladora?"

"No, but I had my eye on one of the stable lads, who was sweet to me. Eventine thought that those that served in the house were above such things as cavorting with the common hands and she made her disapproval well known."

Arissa chuckled as she fidgeted with the telescope, "And did her disapproval halt your 'cavorting' entirely, or did you still manage the occasional rendezvous?"

The girl laughed, "Oh, we had our moments let's say, and leave it at that to spare my blushes."

"Fair enough, now, if I may interrupt our reminiscence, for I would appreciate it if you would fetch me a soporific, for sleep eludes me, again."

"At once Milady, I'll prepare the tincture myself."

"Thank you kindly, my dear. Upon your return, you can regale me with tales of your illicit frolics with the handsome stable lad."

"Milady!"

Arissa laughed, "I jest girl, now off with you lest I be forced to find a switch of my own."

Once the servant had gone Arissa turned her attention back to the telescope. On a clear night like this, the lights of the distant watchtower should be just about visible. She focused and fidgeted with the device as she peered through its aperture.

The watchtower was aflame from the lowest basement to the tallest battlements.

Arissa staggered back from the instrument, "Queen of Night!"

A clamour from below drew her attention and she peered over the balcony. One of the gate guards had collapsed in a heap and dark-garbed figures scaled the outer wall in some numbers, moving with a smooth fluid grace that was as swift as it was unnerving. There was a clatter and a cry as more of the household guard ran towards the intruders and the courtyard erupted into a melee. Flames burst from the stables and servants' quarters and screams were heard from all about the estate.

A crossbow quarrel slammed into the balcony railing a fingers-breadth from her hand and another clattered off the wall behind her. There was a loud crackle from below and two of her guards screamed as they were engulfed in a crimson miasma that devoured them.

She saw many dark figures break through her outnumbered guards and rush towards the house itself. There was an almighty crash as the outer gate all but exploded into shards as a hulking brutish figure smashed through the stout wood with a bellow of rage. A great number of black-clad figures flowed into the courtyard in its wake.

Arissa hissed, "Ogre!"

The raging creature lumbered forward with surprising speed and picking up an unfortunate soldier bit his head off before hurling the body away with a howl. The corpse flew some twenty yards before smashing into a wall with a sickening wet sound of impact. Arrows slammed into the beast, but its heavy armour and thick hide allowed the thing to simply shrug aside such attacks with contempt and it too moved towards the house, stamping another guard into red gruel as it did so.

The library door flew open as Saladora rushed back into the chamber. Arissa saw the girl was utterly terrified, "Milady, we are assailed, the doors..."

Darkness flowed along the corridor behind the girl, snuffing out even the witchlight lanterns like water dousing a mundane torch. Even Dark Elven eyes could not pierce such a magical gloom though Arissa could see well enough to know that shapes moved within that darkness. She spoke a word and the black cloud recoiled from the door. As it did one of the dark figures was revealed and her door guard promptly skewered the thing with his spear, more flowed from the darkness and attacked him. Blades scored his armour and slashed his limbs but instead of falling he bellowed his rage and slammed the shaft of his spear into one of the things and stabbed another through the body. Others slipped from the shadows, and they flowed over the half-orc, their stabbing red blades silencing his roars.

Arissa grabbed Saladora in a rough grip whose strength surprised the girl and all but dragged her to a bookshelf which slid aside to reveal a cunningly hidden passage. She shoved the girl inside, "Run!"

A bolt slammed into the Dark Elf's back, and she grunted in pain, but at her touch the bookshelf closed, and she turned.

The dark figures seemed to almost flow into the library, they were slender, their mail was black, as were their blades, though crimson blood dripped from more than a few, their hair was silver, their eyes were blood red, and their skin was the colour of pitch.

Arissa shivered, "Drow!"

The creatures stalked closer, and the old Dark Elven matriarch found their insolent smiles utterly vexing. She crushed the pain from her wound beneath her will and drew herself up, "Vile creatures, you have spent too long tormenting helpless farmers and stealing human children, but now you attack a Dark Elf and we are not so helpless! Let me show you..."

One of the things slid forward with almost blinding speed and buried its shortsword into her belly, it twisted the blade cruelly and whispered, "Show me what, you pathetic bitch?"

Arissa gasped as the blade was twisted, but she looked the thing in the eye and spat blood over its face as she grinned, "Let me show you the folly of your decision, fool!"

She grabbed the creature in a grip of iron and speaking a word of power she stamped down on the library floor. The house bucked beneath her, walls cracked, books fell from the shelves and windows shattered. The creature shrieked as brilliant flame engulfed the woman and incinerated them both, armoured mail and all, then with the death of their mistress, the fire spirits ran wild! They lunged for the nearest creatures to clutch them in their fiery embrace, burning and scorching everything they could reach. A dozen of the black figures fell screaming as they were consumed along with the library and most of the upper floor of the house. Others fled the building, chased by the wicked elementals until the sorcerers outside dispelled them. But by then the entire house was ablaze.

Outside a thing, that had taken a vague semblance of human form, sat on a beast that looked for the moment at least something like a horse. It watched the blaze with disinterest before turning to one of the Drow Captains, the creature bowed low to make its report, "The house and estate have fallen Master, all resistance is crushed, and we have taken many slaves. What is thy bidding?"

The thing looked back at the flames, "Kill them all."

The figure listened to the screams as the slaughter was done for a little while before casting a glance to one side, "Demeritus."

A figure slithered from the darkness. It was tall, but hunched, as if its cadaverous frame could barely support it and the robes it wore were a tattered ruin. The thing leaned upon an iron rod as it shuffled forwards and bowed with a hiss of pain, "My Lord?"

"Do you know of the place they call 'Morrigan's Stone' perchance?"

The creature considered, "I have heard of it, there is some barbaric altar there I think?"

"Indeed so. I sense something troubling thereabouts."

"A threat?"

The creature's voice was a terrible thing and Demeritus quailed as the blood in its veins all but froze at the very sound of it, "I did not say so! A quarrelsome spirit perhaps, nothing more. Yet I find my sight thwarted and I am unable to peer into that place and this is... troubling."

"The spirit must be powerful indeed to thwart you Dread Lord?"

"Save your flattery for those who care, have a warlock conjure a portal to that place and dispatch a cadre of your most vicious hounds. They are to kill everything they find there."

"Shall I dispatch a magus with them to conjure a way back to us, if I do not, they will be lost."

"I care not if they are lost or no, as long as my will be done."

Demeritus swallowed nervously, "It will take time to conjure a portal to a place unfamiliar and beyond our scrying my Lord."

The creature sighed, "Your complaints become tiresome, do you desire that I rebuke you?"

"NO! Dread Lord! Forgive me, I shall see it done immediately!"

"Begone."

...

As the first light of dawn crept over the mountaintops the tattooed woman's eyes snapped open and she flowed to her feet with such speed that Cassie was sent tumbling from her lap with an inelegant squawk of dismay, knocking over the old broom that had been propped against the doorway.

The little slave looked up blearily at the woman towering above her and saw that for the first time ever she looked utterly confused. Her gaze flicked back and forth like some startled creature as she looked about, and one hand flew to her hair.

Cassie sat up and reached for the blankets, "What's the matter?"

The woman's head snapped round and looking down she transfixed the girl with her gold-flecked eyes. Cassie recoiled in fear and the woman blinked before seeming to come to herself. She nimbly dropped to one knee and reached out to her, "I'm sorry girl, I didn't mean to frighten you, I... I... must have had a... dream, I think."

Cassie grumbled as she pulled the blanket about her and shivered, "You scared me half to death."

The woman helped wrap the girl up, "I'm sorry," she looked at her small fire and to Cassie's amazement it just ignited, "How did y..."

The woman stood and looked off across the forest and her voice was distracted and distant, "It's a small thing, think no more of it..."

"But..."

"There are Dwarves approaching Cassie, would you not see them?"

"Dwarves!"

Nyx and Ashunara watched as the company of heavily armed and armoured creatures marched through the heavy snow. Each stood only a little more than half the height of a tall man, but they were as broad as an Orc, and they bulldozed their way tirelessly through the snow. Each wore heavy mail and a conical steel helm with neck and nose-guard, they carried round shields and had a footman's pick tucked in their broad belts, their marching chant was like some ominous funeral dirge for they were a dour folk some said.

Nyx turned to the Captain, "Those wee bastards march faster than I thought."

Ashunara nodded, "I'm glad they're not after us."

"Think they'll catch up with him?"

The Captain considered and shook her head with a feral smile, "I think... I think they're going to run smack into whoever, or whatever is chasing us, and won't that be sad, for whoever that is."

Nyx grinned, "Those lunatics are not to be fucked with. Unless it's a small army pursuing us, they'll go straight through them like shit through a goose," she gave a sigh of complete insincerity, "oh dear, what a shame."

Ashunara chuckled, "Yes, sad, isn't it? Still, slaughtering whatever is after us might just slow them down long enough for Gorsini and his crew to escape. You know, I'm not sure how I feel about that."

Nyx nodded towards the snow, "Eyup, a couple of those fuckers are headed our way."

"Shit, got any booze left?"

"Only the stuff I keep for special occasions," Nyx complained, "those wee shites probably won't even appreciate it. They'll just sneer and say how it's not as good as whatever Dwarven bilge water they're swilling these days."

"Better break it out anyway, you know what they're like."

"But captain!"

"Stop whining and get on with it will you. I'll buy you a new bottle if we ever make it back to civilisation."

"You fucking better."

Ashunara grinned, "Hey, wait a moment. Should you not be buying me the drink, you know, to celebrate your well-earned promotion?"

"Kiss my arse!"

"Maybe later, now go fetch the booze leftenant."

The two Dwarves strode towards the tent and stopped as they reached it. Both gave a perfunctory bow and the one in front spoke in the hard guttural tongue of their kind, "I am Centurion Garok-Kral, this is my Optio, Verados-Gore, we hunt humans this day. Tell us what you have seen."

Ashunara nodded but did not bow, "Good day to you Centurion, and respect to your Optio. The humans left here early yesterday; we allowed them to pass for we had no quarrel with them."

The Dwarf spat a curse, "No quarrel! They had one of your kind did they not?"

Ashunara smiled, "Had."

"So, you succoured one of your own and left my kin to rot?"

The Dark Elf sighed as if disinterested, "I did not know Dwarves now required Dark Elves to rescue them, had I but realised they were so helpless I would have involved myself in Dwarven affairs for certain. Now, surely, we have insulted each other enough to satisfy our ancestors. Will you share our fires and have a drink with me?"

The Dwarf grinned, "Aye, the formalities have been observed well enough. As for your offer, I'd be honoured, Captain. If I may, would it be an imposition if I requested you tell me of their numbers and disposition? I have a fair idea from the tracks, but it's useful to confirm such things."

Nyx handed her a flask and she passed it to the Dwarf as she spoke, "Not at all, there are a score of them, well-armed and armoured, all in mail and with some crossbows as well as their swords. They had a woman among them, a foreigner from the north I think, she seemed to have some magic about her. One man was wounded and was being dragged in a travois when they left. They looked an experienced lot."

The Dwarf unplugged the flask and guzzled at least half its contents. Ashunara grinned as Nyx swore under her breath. The Centurion passed the flask to his subordinate and nodded, "A fine brew Captain, surely not up to Dwarven standards, but fine enough on a cold day. Not, of course, that we Dwarves mind a little cold."