Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.36T)
Welcome to my weekly serial. This is a rough draft that I am working on, for your reading pleasure.
It is a fairly grim tale, so be warned.
Here is the first post from this series.
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The windows in the cartography room did not have the same narrow frames and iron bars that protected the bottom levels of the tower. Retaak understood; he would not want to view his art, if he were the cartographer, in a room reminiscent of a jail cell. Things of beauty were always better enjoyed in natural light.
This thought flashed through his head as he grabbed Uyaashie, who was still trying to speak and thus surprised enough that her hands did not dart to her weapons, and threw himself through the largest window in the room. The glass gave way as his forearm crashed into it, shattering despite its thickness. Retaak’s next step carried him and Uyaashie out into the air. As he passed the threshold there was a strangely disorienting feeling as the room they had been in seemed to shift in perspective; the magic that made it bigger on the inside that out playing havoc with his senses.
Retaak landed on his feet, the tremendous muscles of his legs absorbing most of the fall. He grunted and fell back on his posterior, rolling awkwardly over one of his weapons, cradling Uyaashie to protect her from harm.
He heard Ashoktyaar land beside him, wincing at the sound of something breaking.
After regaining his breath, Retaak stood and placed Uyasshie on the ground. The Hob woman, produce a wicked looking knife, glaring at him.
“Later,” he said, looking up. He saw Uyage framed in the window, unfocused, parts of her seeming larger than they should be as the magic of the room warped his perception.
Uyage’s bowstring sang, then she looked down at him and jumped. Retaak planted himself and caught her in his arms. She was heavier than Uyaashie, but he did not falter, earning a rare smile from the taciturn orc. It quickly faded.
“We need to move, Retaak,” she said. “The mage is coming up behind him and I’m not certain a jump from that height means anything to a Deathseeker.”
Retaak nodded. Has Ashoktyaar not been poisoned he might have tried to fight the two elves. He would love telling Ushochhushi that he too had slain a Deathseeker. The frown would almost be worth the injuries he sustained.
“Oh, Dread Lord watch over us,” said Uyaashie.
Retaak turned. The Hob was kneeling next to Ashoktyaar, whose leg had splintered on impact with the ground; a bone was sticking through the skin between the knee and the ankle. The flesh around the wound flailed like hungry maggots, trying to knit together.
“I forgot to roll,” said Ashoktyaar, looking embarrassed.
Retaak chuckled, kneeling beside Uyaashie. He reached out and grabbed the trolls broken leg, roughly setting the bone to allow for proper healing.and then picking him up.
Uyage fire three more arrows in quick succession. “Go!” she roared.
Retaak began to run down a nearby alley, carrying the troll on his back. They could not afford to give the mage a clear target. Uyage and Uyaashie ran after them. They move closer to the sounds of fighting and looting, hoping that the two elves would be dissuaded from following. Retaak moved as fats as he could, only stopping when he was certain that they were somewhat safe. He looked to Uyage for confirmation.
“The elves did not follow us out of the district,” she said. “But someone else had picked up our trail. Be ready.”
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