Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.51T)
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 band trekked carefully through the woods, heading now toward the Desolation of Karniloth. They stayed close to the river, partly as a way of navigating and partly to look for a way across. The deep ravine was a difficult obstacle, with walls to jagged and rough to scale and waters too turbulent to cross in most places.
Retaak led Albyursia on a rope as they walked. He did not mind carrying her, but he also did not want her to be come too familiar; thoughts of her jest in the moonlit alcove on their way out of Oystkivat still lingered. He was oddly attracted to this Elf who smelt of earth, pine… and blood.
He did not like leading her at the end of a rope; it smacked too much of the way Ushochhushi treated his elven slaves. The thought of seeing Albyursia kneeling, submissive and naked before the Seneschal filled him with revulsion. If that were her fate then it would be better that he defied Ushochhushi and died, although that path would lead to the death of the rest of the band, which was even worse.
At midsun on the the second day, Uyage called for them to stop. “We are close to the old bridge across the ravine. There is a chance that it is guarded, or that the Bloody Axes await us in ambush. I will range ahead and see.
“What if they see you?” asked Uyaashie. “We will be too far away to help.”
Uyage looked at Uyaashie, and for a moment Retaak though she might slap the Hob woman. He started to move but felt Kuzat’s hand on his knee. After a moment Uyage nodded almost imperceptibly, almost a regal bow from her.
“I thank you for your concern, sister,” she answered. “But if I am seen I will run, and few can catch me in the woods when I am on my own.”
Uyaashie smiled, pushing up her glasses. It was her first sign of levity since Ashoktyaar died. “Be safe, sister.”
Uyage nodded. After a moment she turned and
Retaak breathed easy. Uyage was slow to trust and her relationship with Uyaashie was a weakpoint in the band. It was good to see them move towards trust, as all right-hearted beings do when they shared trials and sorrow.
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While they waited, Kuzat and Uyaashie gathered mushrooms and edibles while Retaak prepared a stew over a tiny fire. He removed Albyursia’s bonds and sat her down on a log.
“You trust me without ropes and a gag?” she asked. “Do you not fear I will try and escape or shout for help?”
“You won’t find help here, and the collar stops your magic,” he said with a shrug. “And I cannot satisfy my curiosity if you are unable to talk.”
The Elf woman cocked an eyebrow and smiled, but said nothing.
“How did you learn our language, truly.” he asked.
“You are Wildborn, are you not, Retaak?” she asked. He nodded, she continued. “I learned it from Wildborn orcs in my lands. I was a guardian, tending the trees, when they wandered through our forests. At first most of us wanted to kill them, because we had never met an orc free of the Dread Lord’s grasp before. Our elder had, and she bid us to leave them in peace. They stayed among us for some time and we became friends with them…”
Retaak, listened, entranced at the idea of other Wildborn, as Albyursia spun tales about the ‘freeborn’ as she called them.
He did not notice Uyage’s return, until she cleared her throat, breaking him from his reveries. “The way is clear. We should cross before night falls.”
Retaak wondered how much she had heard. Uyage was not as distrustful of Wildborn as other Fellspawn were, but she was still suspicious. Albyursia’s tale would seem strange to her, eat least. He nodded and stood. “We will eat here and then go.”
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