The Tattooed Woman Pt. 25

Demeritus moved through the lines with his entourage, careless of the stench, the dramatic sounds of battle, and the more muted accompaniment of screams and moans from the wounded and dying.

Upon a hillock up ahead, he saw the pennants of his Master and the standards of the Fir Bolg and Drow legions that had rallied to him, and fluttering bravely above them, placed higher than all, save for those bearing the emblem of his Master, flew the flags and colours of his own House.

Tall, axe-wielding Fir Bolg Huscarles surrounded the pennants, standing alert and watchful, while behind them were poised the rank upon rank of armoured Ogres that made up the Master's personal bodyguard, each one a fearsome mountain of cruelty and hard muscle, clad in thick bronze scale and bearing heavy long-hafted polearms.

They stood silently, and still, held in thrall, and obedient to the will of their Lord and Master.

The dark figure sat upon his steed seemingly surveying the panorama of violence and chaos that was spread before him, but as always Demeritus was uncertain if his gaze was in truth truly viewing the material world before him, or were his eyes and thoughts instead directed towards some other, less mundane, plane.

The Dragon approached and stood in silent apprehension until his Master stirred, "What ails you Demeritus, you seem somewhat out of sorts this day?"

The twisted figure subconsciously licked his suddenly dry lips and drew a breath, "I, bring news Master."

The creature's helm turned partly towards him, "Would this be the same news that provoked you to violence and tantrum earlier? It must be dread indeed to discomfort you so, and yet still bring you scuttling to my presence."

The sibilant voice turned scornful, "I am intrigued, pray enlighten me."

The Dragon swallowed, "Lady Atropa has fallen my Lord."

The creature sighed, and almost absentmindedly petted the neck of his mount for a moment as it digested the words.

Drawing a breath, it thrust its right hand upward in dramatic gesture and instantly the sky darkened, as if some gigantic cauldron of roiling pitch had been spilt over the clouds. There was an ominous rumble and with its left hand it stabbed a finger at the distant walls of the city.

The thunderbolt lit the heavens and flashed downwards with a deafening howling shriek. It struck to the left of the gatehouse with unbridled fury and the detonation blew chunks of masonry hundreds of feet into the air as half the bastion was swept away in a brilliant instant of spectacular violence.

The rumbling faded, the skies cleared and only the muted screams of the dying could be heard as the creature released its breath with a sigh, "I confess to being somewhat vexed Demeritus."

"Y-yes, Master."

Demeritus almost trembled as the thing dismounted and approached, but he stood his ground nonetheless, for despite the gnawing fear that ate at his intestines there were simply no other choices available to him.

The thing paused before him, "Do you have no explanation, nor even perhaps some platitude to offer me?"

"My Lord, she was carrying out the task she had been assigned, razing the coastal watchtowers to inhibit any maritime aid that could offer succour to the city but in the last engagement she was sorely wounded as she reduced the Broch at Kouni."

The creature mused, "How so? Is she not a Dragon like you, and thus virtually impervious to any of the mundane weapons that the Dark Elves could have brought to bear against her? I doubt a Hero, or artefact was present to challenge her in such a remote and forgotten outpost."

"A poisoned barb pierced her gullet the instant before she unleashed her breath against the tower. Her own scalding venom then seeped into the wound and seared her throat."

"That sounds... inconvenient. What is her condition? Does she still live?"

Demeritus sighed with relief, for here at last there was at least a small fragment of good news to offer his Master, "Yes, my Lord, she lives. She is sorely wounded and has fallen into a healing slumber, and her forces have built a barrow about her, as is their way, but with good fortune, she will emerge in a few years, weakened perhaps, but still able to serve."

"She is your offspring is she not?"

The Dragon shifted its stance and glanced off towards the smoking battlefield, "Lesser spawn, to a lesser mate, my Lord. I shall in time produce a more fitting heir."

The thing chuckled, "Perhaps with a better mate then?"

"As you say, my Lord."

The thing scoffed, "Even after all these years you still pine after Shalidar? Even with your brother no longer presenting any impediment your efforts to woo her are pitiful. She will never acquiesce to your advances."

Demeritus almost snarled, "I am the stronger, her willingness is not a necessary requirement, her obedience will suffice."

"As you say, wyrm."

The thing studied his servant for a long moment and Demeritus felt his insides crawling under the intensity of his gaze. Then it smiled, "You say Atropa shall survive her wounds?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"I think not."

"My Lord?"

The creature raised its helm and Demeritus could see the marred and ruined visage that had been concealed by the visor. One eye had been clawed from his face revealing a cavernous seared hole, while the other was a smouldering orb, not unlike a hot coal, and the malevolent power of its mere gaze almost brought the Dragon to his knees.

"Bring me her heart," he pointed casually to a spot on the ground only a few yards away, "I shall watch you devour it, right there."

"But, she's my daught-"

The backhand blow appeared almost casual, but it struck with enough force to lift the Dragon from his feet and send him sprawling.

"I do not recall asking you for opinion. Obey, or if you have the strength then refuse, and hazard the consequences."

Demeritus spat out several broken teeth and a sizzling gobbet of blood before looking up at his Master through a haze of pain. He felt the shattered bones of his jaw grating as he formed the words, "I... I obey, Master."

The thing looked down at the wyrm at his feet and sighed heavily, "Perhaps you feel my decisions are predicated on a petty desire to punish you or are the product of mere whimsy?"

The pressure from the creature's gaze felt like innumerable livid barbs searing, ripping and tearing at his mind, and the Dragon gave a sibilant groan of pain as it clutched at his skull, "No! Master... please."

The creature turned away and Demeritus slumped forward with a gasp of relief. He winced as he felt the hand of his Master coming to rest gently on his shoulder, "There is purpose to my madness slave. Your obeisance will reaffirm and demonstrate your obedience to my will. Further, the act itself will provide suitable example to your remaining kin of the folly of failure. Besides, did you not say mere moments ago that she was a lesser spawn and no longer of use to me?"

The thing crouched beside the Dragon and whispered, "And there is another purpose, a worthy one for you I think, for is it not said in the oldest tales that the one who consumes the still beating heart of a Dragon shall gain some portion of its power?"

"So say the myths, Master."

The whispered voice was full of calculated venom, "Then I show you great favour do I not? This deed will strengthen you; it may even aid in your healing and possibly ease the twisting of your limbs. Perhaps if your body were hale and hearty again fair Shalidar might not be so dismissive of your advances and may be more forthcoming with her affection."

Standing, the monster's lips twisted in a rictus grin, "Am I not a most generous Master?"

Cowed, the Dragon could only whimper quietly.

...

Nyx crashed against the pillar as she desperately fended off the Drow's attacks. His speed and strength seemed to increase as the Dark Elf faltered, and he laughed at her wheezing, "You're too weak to stand against me. Too slow, too old."

He attacked again and Nyx barely fended away his blade, swallowing she wiped sweat from her brow and snarled back, "Fuck you."

Grinning the Drow moved in, and their blades clashed again and again in a furious exchange until fatigue began to take its toll and Nyx stumbled with a cry, slipping to one knee and clutching the base of one of the worn marble statues. The worn stone face of the ancient deity watched her struggles impassively and she pushed herself slowly back to her feet and held her sword before her again. But its blade tip quivered unsteadily as the strength leeched from her grip.

Tallis snarled and took a pace forward, only to be brought up short by the firm grip of calloused fingers around her arm and she looked back at her Captain in desperation.

Ashunara shook her head and warned, "She won't thank you for it lass."

The younger Dark Elf gave the woman a desperate look as the exhausted Nyx stood at bay before the chuckling figure of the Drow. It smirked, "You know, I do remember your poor daughter. Oh, how she squirmed as I flayed her," he sighed, "and the lost look of pain and realisation as I pushed my sword into her belly and twisted the blade, delicious!"

Nyx groaned and spared a pleading look towards her Captain.

Tallis was about to do the unthinkable and slap Ashunara's hand away but paused as the woman grinned, and giving her a wink, she looked to her old friend and nodded.

Nyx blew out a breath, "Oh, thank fuck!"

The Drow stabbed at her, only for the woman to contemptuously bat his sword aside and slice his wrist to the bone with a lightning riposte. With a chuckle, she shifted her feet slightly and raised her head, and suddenly, as if by magic, her stance altered from unsteady weariness to one of lethal poise.

All fatigue seemingly forgotten she rolled her shoulders and eased the stiffness in her neck before smiling broadly at the confused expression on the creature's face, "Have you any idea how hard it is to make a feckless fucking idiot like you look good in a fight?"

She spat and her smile turned feral, "Right! Let's do this properly."

Moving forward she attacked in earnest, and Tallis saw just how much the woman had been holding back. The speed of her blade would put a praying mantis to shame and within seconds she had cut the floundering Drow twice, once across his midriff and again on the sword arm. The wounds were shallow, but they bled nonetheless, and the hungry eyes of the Dark Elf gleamed at the sight.

He swung at her, but she slapped the blade aside with a swift parry and deftly took off the tip of his left ear in response with a lightning flick of her offhand blade, "Oops, sorry, give me a second and I'll sort that out for you."

Weaving like a snake she slid close and sent a slicing cut towards his side. The Drow moved his blade to parry but it was a feint and before he could recover, she whipped her sword upwards and neatly clipped his right ear before dancing out of the reach of his reply, "There you go, they match again."

Hissing in pain and anger the Drow was provoked into rashness and lashed out. The fierce clamour of swords filled the air at the furious exchange of blades until Nyx moved corps-a-corps and slammed her elbow into the creature's nose. Blood splashed across his face, and he blinked.

Instantly the Dark Elf deftly twisted her blade in cunning fashion and flicked the Drow's sword from his grasp. It clattered to the floor with the finality of a funeral bell being rung, and she grinned.

"You know those romantic ballads where the bold heroine disarms the villain, but in noble gesture allows him to reclaim his sword so the fight can continue fairly?"

The Drow looked up and the smile she gave him was simply awful, "Well, that's not me sweetheart!"

With a vicious thrust, she slammed her blade hilt-deep into the creature's guts. The Drow gasped and blood flowed from his lips as he grunted in pain.

Leaning close she all but kissed him before wrenching her sword savagely with a wicked twist, "That's for Narissa you son of a bitch!"

Stepping back, she gave a scream of rage and whipped her offhand blade around in a brutal arc that slit the Drow's throat from ear to ear. Blood spurted from the wound and his eyes went wide in mute horror. She gripped his hair in one hand and hauled his face up so she could gaze into his pain-filled eyes. With a smile and a sigh, she whispered, "You're right, it is delicious."

With a satisfied chuckle, she moved back and watched as the creature slumped to the floor and collapsed gurgling and twitching as its life blood poured from the wounds and pooled around the body.

Turning to the Captain she grinned, "So, how much did we win?"

Tallis just... gaped.

Ashunara turned to the remaining Drow who eyed the bloody corpse for a long moment before snarling at her, "You will still let us go!"

"We had a deal."

He spat, "And I am changing the deal, let us go or the girl dies."

"I think not."

"We still have the vial of antidote fool! Without it, the girl is doomed."

The Dark Elf gave a sigh of resignation and held out her hand.

Lily, slid from the shadows that surrounded the pillar where the Captain stood, emerging like a wraith skulking from a tomb, and with a shy smile she deftly passed an object into the woman's hand.

Ashunara held up the thing and smiled, "You mean this vial?"

The Drow stared for an instant, but his startled ruminations were interrupted as Elsadore stepped close and brutally thrust her sword into his neck, killing him instantly.

As if by some signal Varoona and Lashelle hurled the crystal spheres they had concealed in their hands. The orbs sailed through the doorway from where the other Drow had been watching the fight and shattered, releasing a cloud of toxic choking vapours that caused the creatures to stagger from the chamber. Blinded and coughing they were easy prey, and if they had hoped for mercy then they had hoped in vain, for Dark Elves are not a forgiving folk, and they fell upon them like wolves.

After it was done Tallis rounded on the Captain, "She could have killed him at will!"

Ashunara grinned, "Obviously, it's Nyx, what did you expect?"

"Then... why? Why go through the charade?"

Lily slid alongside and draped a slender arm around the younger Dark Elf and the Captain smiled, "No point keeping a sneaky wee rogue like Lily about and not using her, but she needed time for her pilfering."

Tallis turned to the girl and shook her head incredulously, "That was a perilous thing to do."

With a brilliant smile that to Tallis seemed to light the very courtyard, the Sunkissed Elf drew her close enough to whisper in her ear, "Ah, but I'm an adventurer, and we're all mad they say."

Ashunara rolled her eyes, "If you two could leave off the frolicking until later perchance I would be obliged, for we yet have work to do."

Tallis grinned, "Mmm, frolicking..."

Lily blushed but her eyes sparkled, "Well, we're Elves after all, it's what we do."

The Captain shook her head with a chuckle and then paused, looking about she frowned, "Where's Azure?"

...

Ellén and the scout regarded each other warily. A half dozen Drow had made effort to breach the chamber with murderous intent and Azure had drawn her sword to meet them, but the slender blonde woman had simply stepped past her and into the passage to bar their way. She hadn't bothered picking up a weapon and the Drow had grinned maliciously as they charged.

It was a slaughter.

Azure watched as the strange creature fussed over Cassie. The havoc she had wreaked upon the Drow was evidence enough that her appearance was more glamour than reality but the scout was canny, and she could see none of the runes that would mark the woman as a sorceress, and there was no evidence of the apparatus used for wizardry, which left what?

"She's not Human, that's a certainty."

The Dark Elf smiled to herself, "When the eyes are confounded there are other senses to use."

The smell of fresh blood made it all the harder but even so, the woman's scent was a curious one, it smelled strange, almost like hot metal on a rainy day. Her strength was prodigious, but neither the shadow she cast nor her reflection in the bright metal of Azure's sword was distorted so she was no Vampire, besides, the grip of her hand had been warm enough.

Azure kept her face expressionless as she pondered, "The tattooed woman displayed such strength. Their scents are different, but there is... something, some tenuous similarity, mayhap they are kin of sorts."

The blonde woman glanced at her, "We're not kin."

"Fuck!"

Ellén chuckled, "Fear not, I do not scry your thoughts, merely read the questions you have in your wary stance and in the way you measure us, glancing at shadows and reflections as you calculate," she sighed, "I do not think the answer you seek will go far towards easing your mind, but if needs must you require to know, then know this, I am a D-"

"Dear friend," blurted Cassie.

Both the woman and Dark Elf stared at her, "What?"

Cassie swallowed under the sharp looks, but she stepped towards the Dark Elf and gazed into the woman's strange eyes imploringly, "I'm saying she's my friend Azure, and I'm asking if such an answer will suffice, for now at least... please."

The Dark Elf considered, "She could have killed me easily enough, and made off with the girl tucked under one arm while everyone was distracted by the fighting, but still..."

Glancing at the torn remains of the Drow she recalled the woman's ferocious reaction when the thrown knife had cut the lass and her eyes narrowed, "She's fond of Cassie it seems," taking in the way the woman was fussing over the girl she felt herself wondering, "mayhap even a bit more than merely fond perchance?"

Azure looked down into the eyes of the young woman and after a moment nodded, "I'll keep your secret Cassie, for now at least, but you'd best make sure I do not regret this decision girl."

Ellén stepped forward with a smile, "Then, I surrender to you Dark Elf," she nodded to Cassie, "she has the key to the chains she wears in her hand, if it would make you feel more secure, I could put them on."

The scout turned to the girl with a confused frown, "If you have the key why are you wearing the irons girl?"

Cassie blew out an exasperated breath, "Oh, don't you start."

...

Within the House of Varro, Matriarch Aventine sat and elegantly sipped at her wine, smiling as she watched the Human blush.

Hildegard stood before her dressed in a spider-silk chemise that clung to her like a second skin, revealing and highlighting the woman's curves. Her hair had already been tended to by smiling and laughing servants and she now gazed at the gowns they held up before her.

The intricate creations were marvellous to behold, and Hildegard dreaded to even consider their cost, "Probably more coin than I've ever even seen before."

She turned to the Dark Elf, "I... I can't wear those. I mean I'd be terrified I tore the bloody thing. They must cost a fortune!"

Aventine favoured her with a cat-like smile and nodded to one of the servants. The woman grinned and gripping the sleeve of one gown she wrenched at it, tearing the delicate fabric and eliciting a gasp from Hildegard, "Wait! I didn't mean to waste the thing, I'm sorr-"

The servant giggled and muttered a cantrip, and the woman stared in open-mouthed astonishment as the fabric reknitted neatly before her eyes, and in a matter of moments the gown was as gorgeous and whole as it had been before its vandalism.

Aventine giggled at the Human's look of surprise, "Magical things we Dark Elves, are we not?"

Hildegard shook her head in mock resignation, "You have an evil sense of humour I'll say that for you," then she paused and pointed an accusing finger at the servant, "hang on a second! She's no Dark Elf, she's Human, like me."