Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.42 T)
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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Three elves stepped into the intersection, talking amongst themselves. The kept moving, not even glancing down the corridor that the band occupied. Even a casual glance would reveal himself or Ashoktyaar; there was just not enough space for them to hide effectively. His heart was just beginning to slow and his grip on his weapons ease as one of the elves turned and looked directly at him.
Adrenaline shot through his system, and saw Uyage take aim from the shadows. But something stayed his hand. The Elf’s expression showed no alarm, only a brief puzzled look before he laughed and said something to his companions as they moved down the tunnel and turned a corner, voices gradually dwindling. Retaak only relaxed when he could no longer hear them.
“How?” asked Uyage, letting her bow down. “They looked right at you Retaak. There is no way that elf could not have seen you.
“It was Kuzat,” said Uyaashie, smiling at the goblin.
“What did you do?” asked Retaak.
“A bit of magic, a bit of misdirection,” said Kuzat. “I knew that the guards would see you if they looked too closely so I tricked his mind into thinking that you were something harmless that was supposed to be there. A barrel or a door perhaps, his mind made the choice of what to see.”
“A good trick,” said Ashoktyaar. “You saved those elves from a gruesome death.”
“Perhaps,” said Retaak. “He also saved us from being discovered. I know you would love to wade through the blood of our enemies, Berserker, but we have a prisoner to rescue.”
“If you can call delivering her to Ushochhushi a rescue,” said Uyage. “He is well known for his lust for Elf women.”
“I doubt he would give my my freedom and set himself against Greyrock and the Dreadlord’s right hand just to find another slave to rape,” growled Retaak. “Ushochhushi has ambitions beyond Seneschal, he won’t indulge himself blindly until he reaches that apex?”
“Beyond Seneschal?” asked Ashoktyaar.
“Yes,” said Retaak. “It is not unknown for a Dread Lord to succumb to a rival. I believe that this is what Ushochhushi seeks.”
“And yet we are compelled to follow him,” said Kuzat. “And thus to share his fate if he falls.”
“Such is the way of the spawn,” muttered Uyage.
“For now,” said Retaak. “I expect this elf to be very dangerous in some way. I do not know what she has that Ushochhushi wants, but it must be of great importance to his plans.”
“We should move,” said Uyage after a moment. “The longer we spend down here, the more likely the guards will stumble on some sign of our passage.”
Nimble, silent Uyage led them down several passages. The grey stone of the prison was oppressive, eating sound and warmth. They passed cells with sleeping prisoners, some of them spawn, but avoided being seen. As they closed on their goal, the halls became brighter and the cells became both larger and better secured. The smell of stone was replaced with that of wood, though Retaak could see none of it.
They turned down the last corridor, surprising the four guards standing in front of the cell that they sought. One of them reached for a rope on the wall, but Uyage put an arrow through his reaching hand and then fire another into his throat. Retaak and Ashoktyaar charged the remaining elves who shouted and met them with sword and shield.
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