Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.44T)
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 prison dungeons under Greyrock could hold an army. While this worked in their favour, in that they could avoid the guards and inhabited areas, it did make navigation difficult. Even Uyage made a few wrong turns.
They crept down the ancient stone passages quietly. Albyursia was as silent as the rest of the band, moving between Retaak and Uyaashie. Elves were swift, but not known for strength and she seemed eager to be gone from Greyrock.
Retaak had a thousand questions for the Elf woman. Her magic and importance to Ushochhushi and her captors was merely the aperitif to his curiosity. She was not from the same nation as the elves that Retaak was familiar with, the Brouvians, what part of the world did she hail from and what sights had she seen that were beyond even the Dread Lord’s reach? How had she learned to speak Digut, the tongue of the Fellspawn so fluently? How had she come here? These would have to wait while they made their escape from the bowels of the great fortress.
Distantly, Retaak could hear shouts of alarm in the prison, distinct now from from the fighting outside. He kept his weapons in hand; even Uyage could not evade every patrol.
The scout stopped, raising a fist.
“They’ve found our entrance, Retaak,” she hissed. “There are at least six of them.”
“Do we risk battle to escape through the path that we know?” asked Kuzat.
“Six elves is nothing to me,” growled Ashoktyaar.
“They have Deathseekers and mages in Greyrock,” said Albyursia. “I would urge caution. If you remove this collar, I could help with my magic.”
“Quiet, elf,” hissed Uyage.
Retaak weighed their options. A fight was a gamble, but they had marked all of the traps in this passage and could escape quickly. Searching for another, less predictable exit might serve them well or it might give the elves enough time to corner them.
“It is better to face this fight, than one unknown,” he rumbled.
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Retaak barrelled around the corner, Ashocktyaar at his side. This time the elves were ready and two of them immediately fired bows. An arrow slapped into the Retaak’s shoulder, uncomfortably close to his neck. he bellowed and surged forward.
One of the bow wielding elves fell as Uyage’s arrow blossomed from his chest. A robed figure stepped forward to take his place, drawing runes in the air. A mage! Ahead of them the shadows shifted as Kuzat played tricks, foiling the aim of the remaining archer.
Then Retaak and Ashoktyaar reached the line. Four elves locked shields, blocking the corridor. Retaak kept running and slammed right into them; without anyone bracing them from behind the elf line was too weak to stop him. Ashoktyaar leapt into the breach, cleaving an elf in half with a vicious backhand and then send another to the ground in a ruined red heap with an overhanded cut. Retaak pushed the archer out of the way, scrambling to get to the mage, who cast his spell and then raised his staff to ward off the Ogres attack. The wood splintered as Retaak cleaved through, cutting the mage down, but he hears a grunt of pain from Ashoktyaar behind him.
“Nooo!” shrieked Uyaashie.
Retaak turned to see Ashoktyaar staring a his own hand. His veins burned and his flesh crumbled to ash as the spell consumed him. Retaak stumbled forward reaching for his friend.
“I tried brother–” and the rest of his word were lost. Retaak grasped his hand, felt it burn and fall apart. The troll struggled valiantly, but fire was Troll’s bane, and moments later he was gone.
“We have to go,” said Uyage, voice shaking.”They are almost here.”
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