Author's Introduction:
This story draws inspiration from various sources and other works.
But at its core this story is about the adventures of a young Druchii, Dark Elf.
Born into a minor family and without any real chances to inherit she decides that she has to make her own way. Whatever that may mean, and whatever that might cost… She'll learn, make allies along the way, stumble and err.
There will be a whole wide world for her to explore and danger around each corner. This tale will have swords and sorcery, death and destruction, sex, and blood.
Warhammer Fantasy is a beautiful and lore rich universe. And there will, hopefully, be a little something in my story for everyone, knights, princes, dread lords, dwarves, humans, elves, demons, dragons, magic and steel…
Read and review or leave a comment to let me know what you think; did you like it? Have I made a contradiction? Did I breach the lore? Or is there an issue with syntax or grammar?
Please let me know! It helps me to improve, and to craft a better story.
Lots of love,
VV
So without any further ado, it is my sincere hope that you'll enjoy:
The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part One
The modest port north of Blacklight Tower saw ships coming and going from the Sea of Malice to the Sea of Chill and then into the great waters beyond.
While not as important a trading port as that of Karond Kar, Slaver's Point, or nearby Har Ganeth, the traffic of Blacklight Tower's port was therefore typically limited to small raiding vessels, local fishing boats, or independent traders and their comparatively small loads of cargo.
It was summer; the waters flowed freely, and sunlight shone through bleak and thinning clouds over the relatively sleepy Druchii town.
Far from the Black Court and far from the scheming powerful estates of the noble families, Blacklight Tower and its citizens enjoyed a unique quiet which was often lacking in the more populated centres of Naggaroth.
That is not to say that the city didn't also have its share of blood sacrifice, wailing slaves, and plots, just that it was far less numerous. Those 'in power' in the town sought to remain under the notice of nearby Karond Kar and so ostentatious displays of the citizens' wealth were limited only to the appropriate holy days of the calendar.
A young Druchii family was currently seeing its prospects and its fortunes begin to climb, but despite the success of this family, and the activities of some of its members, there was one who sought to someday out do them all…
…
"So you mean to go through with your plan?"
The stern and commanding voice of a masculine Druchii sounded amidst the general hum of the tavern.
A young, long haired, female Druchii sat opposite the modestly dressed male and nodded confidently.
The male sighed, it wasn't a sigh of resignation; he was more surprised in his blood than anything.
He awkwardly looked towards the wide windows of the establishment and tapped his fingers rhythmically along the smooth wooden surface of the table between the two Druchii.
Out of the corner of his grey eyes he looked at his child and maintained a level tone as he asked his next question.
"How long are you intending to be away from Naggaroth?"
The young woman cleared her throat and did her best to remain sure.
She had rehearsed her words with one of her home's slaves several times, and the questions she had her slave repeat back to her were eerily similar to the ones that her father had so far asked.
"Just a few years at most…"
She knew the most important part of her interaction with her father was to come.
If she were to receive his blessing here it meant that the 'hard' part of her journey at home was over, and the rest would be actually holding up her word…
"After my company…" she paused and averted her eyes downwards to the well-presented and sparsely touched food on her plate.
"…That is; the company I will be journeying with secures enough spoils and slaves to make good your investment I shall return and present myself to you."
She looked back up at her father to see that he had raised his chin, and was looking down at her over his nose. Typically this was an expression he reserved for his children when they were unruly, or for clumsy slaves around the family's home.
But it always had a way of making her feel displeasure; no… actually it made her feel wrathful.
'Why couldn't he ever look at me like he does the first born?' she'd often think petulantly. 'Both my first born brother and first born sister enjoy fathers favour!'
Many a time she had thought about killing him while he slept… but, her brothers would probably scourge her to death… And that's not even addressing the fact that father was never alone; at least one of his bodyguards and two slaves were with him at all times…
He'd acquired a pair of Norscan brothers many years ago and the two former raiders had acclimatised to their new roles as his most brutal defenders quite well, at least as well as bearded and uncivilised humans could be expected…
As much as any Druchii she'd felt like and enjoyed plotting a murder, or planning out her revenge… But the longer she'd brood about it the more she realised that it wasn't ever in her interest to actually try and kill her father.
Theirs was a wealthy family. Not extravagantly wealthy… but certainly not that of common tradesmen!
Her father furrowed his brow, pursed his lips, and as he raised an eyebrow turned his attention to his plate.
The establishment that the father and daughter, along with their entourage, were in was less of a tavern, and more of a place for the families of the small town to dine and conduct business at.
The hall itself was part of a larger building and safe conduct had been assured by an unspoken agreement amongst all in Blacklight Tower's demesne of its status as neutral ground.
Picking his fork back up he pierced a cut, bite sized, piece of meat.
He inhaled sharply through his nose and clicked his tongue, "I am curious Raveres… What level of profit could one expect from this place that you've mentioned?"
He punctuated the question by chewing the soft and seasoned meat quietly in his mouth.
The younger Druchii felt a sudden rush of excitement, 'He said my name! A-and he actually asked a question! In his business voice too!'
Her heart beat a little harder as she hid her glee.
'He's seriously considering my proposal!'
'Calm down… calm down. Now answer him, just like you practised.'
"Well… after the initial costs for provisions and crew, the place that has been chartered sees bountiful crops, untouched and virgin land and soil, as well as primitive and supplicant populations."
He cut more of his dinner off the bone and 'hmm-ed' along as she spoke.
"Jaylish, that boy I know from the Kalinside family? He's set up a similar operation and if conservative figures are correct…" she hushed herself in case of eavesdropping patrons before continuing, "He's now seeing annual returns of goods and slaves worth in the hundreds of thousands!"
Eating another piece of meat Raveres' father looked up before reaching for his goblet of wine. Taking a sip he nodded, wordlessly indicating that she was to continue.
"We could see as many as fifty or so healthy and strong slaves after our first expedition, and from there any foodstuffs or exotic goods would be able to be preserved before bringing them back home."
Swallowing the older Druchii laid down his fork and leaned back in his chair.
"And then?"
Raveres looked down before readying herself.
"Then, as I said, I would present myself and all that I had brought to you; in the hopes that it would please you, father."
Raveres' father nodded and he sighed again, "You've been planning this for a while…"
She nodded.
"And the late night sessions with your mother's coiffure slave… That's been what?"
Raveres held her breath before answering, "I've been using her to practise…" her voice dropped in youthful embarrassment, "…this moment."
The male Druchii put down his fork and brought his hands onto the table; covering over his right with his left.
"You know…" he began.
"I had half a mind to suspect that you were up to something, but it never would have occurred to me that this was it."
"Your siblings have begun to go their own ways, but each in direct service of, and glory to our family…"
His voice began to take on its grand, pontificating, tone. Raveres felt his typical familial speech coming, but she held fast and remained stoic. She wasn't about to give him any excuse to say no to her request.
"My father came to this area of Naggarond with only the Witch King's blessing. And that is by no means the truth… My father did not really enjoy favour in the Black Court. He was not even known by any of the older noble families… He was able to have married well and he the received blessings from the gods for his enormous run of luck."
Leaning forwards and towards his daughter the older Druchii continued,
"He was lucky right up until he was gutted by some low born sell-sword over a case of mistaken identity…" he dryly laughed, "What we have right now, the legacy which has been built off of a man who was murdered like a pig in an abattoir, is only because of what I, and my brother have done."
Raveres had heard this many times before… and she nodded as he declared; "For our family."
"I've frozen my balls off in the north fighting those gods-damned chaos savages…" he laughed, "I thought I'd never sire any more progeny, but regardless… So far each of my children has been able to fix the family's duty firmly in their minds."
'Oh gods… here it comes…' Raveres cringed.
"Take your eldest brother for instance. He's a Dreadlord Legatus."
Raveres' father's chest swelled with pride, "In his last letter he told how he was in command of nearly three thousand troops. And what of your eldest sister? She's married well, her husband's among the few Druchii bearing royal assent to trade in the south."
Raveres hated the constant comparison to her siblings.
She was the second youngest of eight and felt woefully out of her league when compared to her elder siblings… Each of them had more years and more experience than her, and enjoyed what seemed to be far more fortune than her…
Being so low in the birth order also meant that Raveres was also not looking at a legitimate level of influence in the family's affairs, or allotment from the family's estates…
If she was going to ever be able to exert her will, this expedition was her only real shot. But she continued to hide her nervousness and watched her father attentively.
Though in a strange break of character her father stopped himself, apparently she wasn't masking her thoughts as well as she had hoped…
"You disapprove?" he asked.
Raveres' eyes shot widely open, and quickly she jumped to verbally defend herself, "No, no! I merely-"
Her father raised a hand and cut her off.
"Say no more of it."
He looked at her plate and then back up to her face.
"Your companions…"
She tensely nodded, afraid that his consent was now about to be raised out of her reach.
"They know well enough to stay away from your…" he raised an eyebrow and wordlessly indicated with a gesture what he was referring to.
Raveres nervously smiled and nodded, "I'd kill any of them were they to so much as think of me in that way."
He nodded approvingly.
"Good… That's what the slaves aboard are for, surely…"
Raveres' father had lived his entire life without ever having set foot aboard a ship.
Not once in his military past had he ever been near a troop transport, each campaign he had ever been on he had gotten to by marching.
And now having spent almost two hundred years in the comfort and warmth of his home, tended to by slaves, and well taken care of there were a few things he began to take for granted and assume about the world outside of his affairs, and his dynasty.
'I doubt we'll be able to have too many slaves for our own uses outside of sailing the ship…' she thought, 'The ship isn't going to be big enough for that many comforts father…'
But she wasn't about to voice her thoughts, and instead focused on the serious work at hand.
"So…" Raveres began; her heart was beginning to thump loudly as she anxiously approached the golden question head on,
"Do I have your support?"
Her father reached for his goblet and took a long sip of his wine.
Each second Raveres itched and sweated as anticipation infected her from her forehead to her toes.
"I would like to meet this captain first."
Raveres sharply exhaled, 'H-he… he agreed! Wait, did he agree? Well it wasn't a 'no'!' she took a breath, 'but it wasn't a 'yes' either…"
Meekly she began, before finding her voice and mustering some of her earlier confidence, "So… that's a yes?"
The male Druchii moved his head forwards in a nod.
"Unless your captain is an excessive fool… Yes… you have my blessing."
Raveres hid her smile just a little longer, she'd now have to play up to and listen extra attentively to her father until she actually left.
"But Raveres… mark my words, if you come back with a bastard child, or if you fail our house in anyway, and still return? I will cast you out of the family and have you paraded through the town."
Raveres had seen her father serious before, and she knew he wasn't making an idle boast or an exaggerated threat.
One of her brothers had shamed the family, and though she was too young to remember what he had done, she did remember vividly her father meting out the punishment in front of all her immediate family and the household slaves and servants.
The sight of her father wielding a barbed scourge had never fully exited her mind, and since then she had lived in respectful fear of her father's wrath.
"I will not fail you, or the family, father."
He nodded curtly.
"Good. Now I may consider this business closed, and I release you from my sight."
Raveres stood from her seat and bowed her head as she took a step back from the table.
"Take Riccard and make your way back home."
Upon hearing his name the large and muscular human stepped from behind Raveres' father's chair and walked beside the female Druchii.
"If she strays from the path Riccard..."
"I won't father! I swear."
Eyeing his daughter hesitantly the elder Druchii relented.
"I will explain this request of yours to mother. Now go…"
Raveres bowed again and then turned towards the exit of the warm hall.
Stepping outside she allowed herself to finally smile and breathe easily.
'You did it!' she thought, 'and! He said yes!'
"Congratulations Lady Raveres."
The Norscan slave spoke the Druchii tongue, but like many he retained an accent and limited vocabulary. Though in Raveres' opinion it helped Riccard retain an intimidating charm on any who might wish her, her father, or her family harm.
She tilted her chin and gloated haughtily for a moment before beginning to walk down the lightly populated cobblestone street.
"I suppose it is a form of accomplishment isn't it?"
Riccard held his left hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword and nodded, "Aye, milady. Your father's become much more despondent as of late. In all honesty I'm surprised he agreed."
Raveres looked at her bodyguard and furrowed her thin eye brows, "What? He's not seemed all that different to me…"
Riccard nodded but risked an answer which bordered on excessive familiarity; "Well, you don't spend all your day with him, do you?"
The Druchii held her tongue, he was right of course. And though another master may have hit their slave for such perceived insolence, Riccard was her father's property. In fact though she had grown up attended to by her family's slaves she was reminded often that they were not hers to discipline.
Neither were they hers to do with as she pleased…
So rather than mope or impotently brood, Raveres grew instead to try and enjoy the company of those in her family's employ.
While it may have been poor form, and against convention, she enjoyed her quiet moments with Riccard, he and just a few other slaves were the only ones she was so familiar or comfortable with.
While many Druchii believed that allowing house slaves to retain a 'personality' caused them to develop more unseemly behaviours, Raveres' father and mother felt that beating your slave past the point of servitude and into a catatonic state was far more unseemly when entertaining guests then having a slave which might display 'cheek' or even, Khaine forbid, 'wit'.
Though she wasn't about to admit Riccard was correct Raveres nonetheless pursued the point; "How has he been regarding my brother?"
Riccard knew well enough not to bite and divulge sensitive information about his master; but he played along and translated a typical Norscan phrase of his tribe "Wars often throw many fortunes into the air... Only the gods know the outcomes."
Raveres smiled, "Still have your wits don't you human?"
"Aye, as long as your father permits."
The female groaned as she looked at a spot of uneven road ahead, water and garbage pooled in the space between some missing stones, and a few Druchii urchins were loudly cheering while throwing stones at a Skaven slave.
The matted fur and disheveled appearance of the Skaven made it clear that he was a labourer of some kind; perhaps on his way to or from a task, hunger and desperation had driven the creature to currently rifle through the refuse.
Raveres turned her nose and a small scowl of disgust formed across her lips.
"Ugh… I detest Skaven, but I detest orphan urchins even more…"
Riccard chuckled, "Shall I make them wet their pants milady?"
Raveres smirked, "That'd be good fun! Go on Riccard… show me what you humans do…"
The Norscan gruffly laughed and stomped his feet as he growled and roared at the children while charging them.
The small dirty Druchii began screaming and running down a nearby alley while the Skaven slave shrieked and scurried along the edge of the street on all fours, his potential meal abandoned for fear of real punishment at the hands of a brutish and large human.
Raveres laughed loudly, accompanied by a few nearby adult Druchii, as Riccard returned to his mistress' side smile erupted across his bearded and scarred face.
"Now, to the house?" the human asked.
The Druchii female nodded, "Alright, alright… Come on…"
The two walked closely together down the main street before turning out of the market quarter and towards the wealthier height of the tiered town. Raveres' family manse was nestled towards the centre of the noble quarter and near the walls of the citadel around which the town had been built.
It wasn't called Blacklight Tower for nothing…
And on the crest of the rocky hill which overlooked the small port was a walled keep and tall central tower. The rest of the town was protected by a curtain wall which encircled this Druchii castle and kept the inhabitants safe from raiders or any of those who would endeavour to put the castle town to siege.
…
Raveres' family's mansion was built in accordance to the ordinances and customs of the town and so was very much in keeping with the style of the Druchii nobles.
At first it was a small villa, but over the years, as her family's fortunes improved, her father made additions to the original centre hall; adding two wings and a larger entrance way around an inner courtyard with an open air pool and small fountain.
When Raveres and Riccard approached the mansions' front steps the armoured guardsman nodded and hit the end of his halberdier against the thick wooden door.
The hit was rhythmic and was actually part of a coded language.
Each member of the family had a signal, and there were also hits for if it was a guest calling or official business.
The door unlocked and a silk clad elf slave stood to the side of the thick, rivet, and double barred wood.
She bowed her head and her mid-length blonde hair fell onto her front as Raveres entered.
The female high elf had been acquired as a youth by Raveres' mother and served as the mansion's hostess.
She was beautiful and had a sharp mind, able to woo and soothe the mercantile Druchii guests that the family often had to entertain, but it was the fact that she was obviously a pureblood high elf which helped to impress and interest guests and business relations.
"Welcome home Lady Raveres…"
The high elf's voice was quiet and meek.
She knew of Raveres' plan, and was currently waiting to see the Druchii's expression. Hopefully her father had acquiesced and Raveres was going to be in a good mood.
Slowly the elf looked up and felt pleasant relief.
Raveres was smiling.
Closing the door behind Riccard, the elf immediately came to assist Raveres in taking off her cloak.
"So, my lady… He said yes?"
Raveres let out a laugh and nodded as the slave unclipped the dark grey cloak from her shoulders.
"He did Elianna… I'm actually going to be leaving Naggaroth on my own for once!"
The slave couldn't help but feel success herself, any of the family's gains were in a way, her gains too. The individual victories of the members she'd grown up serving had always felt in an odd way somehow her victories too.
After all without Elianna, without Riccard, and all the other servants, slaves, employees and guards Raveres' family would have had a much harder time operating.
Elianna had somewhat grown up alongside Raveres, and though the two were different in station and blood they were close enough in age that comparisons between the two women were often made by bolder or inebriated guests.
Of their female slaves Elianna was the only one allowed to wear silk. The dress which she currently wore was of a quality just below that of the ladies of the house.
Though she was encouraged to, Raveres seldom wore finery. She wore only a few pieces of golden jewelry; a few rings on her fingers and simple emerald cut studs in her ears.
Elianna, though a slave, wore a golden gilt collar around her neck, more symbolic than practical; it often complimented her appearance and could have easily been mistaken for an elaborate choker rather than a slave's shackle.
Under the bottom of her thin dress there were two black and gold anklets around each of her legs, and if she moved quickly they jangled together and alerted of her approach.
Her long elvish ears were pierced in several places and an intricate series of silver and gold rings gave her an asymmetrical appearance.
Everything about her was dressed to impress.
But despite her clean and carefully manicured appearance Elianna still complied with any order her masters gave her. She naturally had no choice, and had long ago internalised that she never would.
The easiest and least degrading of what she could be expected to do was remove her family's footwear and travelling clothes.
The smell of the outside streets was revolting in the summer as the ground had thawed and loosened, but Elianna had developed a skillful way of removing Raveres and her family member's boots with the least amount of exposure to filth.
Despite this skill there remained a piece of cloth and a small wash bowl on the floor of the doorway. Elianna would never dream of touching dirty hands to her master's clothes and so a quick wash was not an inconvenience to whichever Druchii she was helping at the doorway.
In fact the small courtesy was a pleasant feature of Raveres' household and she was thankful of it each time she returned…
As Elianna hung Raveres' cloak in the small alcove to the right of the door the Druchii turned to Riccard; "See to my armour, and make ready weapons for my departure."
The Norscan grunted, "I'll sharpen your blade myself."
With a curt bow of his head he began walking across the foyer and towards one of the servant's passages.
A small armoury had been dug out in the foundation of the mansion and it contained enough arms and armaments to equip every member of the household and staff in the event of a riot, siege, or some other occasion that would necessitate such a defence of the corridors and chambers of the noble home.
Raveres tilted back to watch Elianna descend to unclip and pull off her mud and filth coated boots.
"You will leave cleaning my boots for later; in fact, give the task to one of the boys."
Elianna nodded as she placed the leather footwear down against the wall to the left of the door. Once her legs were free of the elf slave's hands Raveres began walking barefoot across the warm tile of the heated room and towards the mansions' staircase.
She raised her voice as she began mounting the steps.
"After you've delegated that, bring one of the strong eunuchs with you and assist me in packing."
Elianna bowed her head as Raveres ascended out of view, "Yes milady."
…
Darting towards the servant's passage, her ankle rings clanging loudly, Elianna began calling: "Boy! I need one of the boys!"
Getting closer to the mansions, always busy, kitchen Elianna could hear the sniggering and shrill laughter of the slave children.
The children were recently acquired as collateral for a debt owed to Raveres' father. The debtor had seemingly defaulted and so, rather unexpectedly, the household had added four youths, each around ten years of age, to the rolls of the mansion's staff.
Two of the young boys were hitting each other as a third looked on loudly cheering as Elianna entered the hot kitchen.
One was Druchii, and the other two were human.
The Druchii and the smaller of the human boys were both smacking and punching at each other while the largest of the three watched and yelled encouragement.
The kitchen staff continued working, occasionally turning from the evening's meal to watch the children's bout.
Elianna rolled her eyes, 'These brutish country peasants…'
Though Elianna was a slave, she was one of the house's senior staff, and she was still a high elf; as such she had cultivated a haughty and elite attitude towards her 'fellow' slaves.
She was never comfortable among the others and they often felt uneasy around her, treating her with a similar degree of respect and fear to what they showed Raveres and her siblings.
"Boys cease your foolishness this instant!" she sternly roared.
The children stopped mid action and each looked at her wide eyed.
"One of you shall clean Lady Raveres' boots, I don't care who… Just see that it's done or I'll have you whipped by Crag."
The children scurried past her towards the foyer, trying to fight each other over who would be first to the assigned task.
Elianna looked towards the kitchen staff and they each hurriedly turned back to their work.
"Has anyone seen Crag by the way?" she asked.
One of the human cooks looked away from the hot oven in front of them and pointed towards the slaves' dormitory corridor behind her.
"I believe he was in there…"
Elianna turned and began towards the 'male' dormitory.
The few male slaves that the home had, had all been gelded, the only exceptions to this policy were Riccard and his brother but they were keenly aware of the risks and were not about to do anything to potentially lose their balls…
Those two, 'functional', males aside, there wasn't about to be any unnecessary breeding amongst the slaves in this home.
And with so many daughters, Raveres' father was wisely looking out for the purity of his future grandchildren as well.
Elianna smiled to herself as she recollected her master's remarks on the subject;
"If more slaves are needed that's what the market is for…" the Druchii would often declare, "We don't need them fucking like rabbits, and stinking up my house with their ululating and vulgar noises."
The slave Crag was therefore a eunuch, but the actual logistics of the procedure had fortuitously not sapped his strength.
He was apparently bought from a slaver who'd acquired him from the far off continent of Ind… But Elianna doubted such tales. Though she'd never left nor known anything but Naggarond her whole adult life…
Crag was darkly skinned and bald on his face and head but his arms were broad and his body was covered in scars from his time as a fighter before being sold as a 'draught-horse' slave.
Opening the lockless door to the dorm Elianna saw that he was sitting on the floor of the male bunkroom with his legs crossed and head bowed low.
"Praying to your gods?" she asked quizzically.
He sighed and exhaled satisfactorily.
"Aye…"
He clapped his hands together before standing and turning to face the elf.
"What must I move?"
Elianna smirked.
"Raveres requires a chest… She'll be leaving on a journey and you will carry whichever one you select to her chambers for her."
The man nodded.
"It shall be done."
Elianna turned to leave but a queer sensation shivered across her bare shoulder.
"Crag?"
He looked at her with his intense and dark eyes, "Yes Elianna?"
"What was it you were praying for?"
He softened and his shoulders relaxed, "That my strength may yet endure… Without it I shall die. And if I die, who then will carry Raveres' chest?"
Elianna laughed, "Does it work?"
He raised a non-existent eyebrow, "Praying?"
She nodded.
He flexed his arm and watched the muscle move, "So far…"
Elianna furrowed her brow and wordlessly left the room.
Crag sniggered and wiped off his plain clothes before following the elf.
…
Raveres packed everything she thought that she'd need and a few days later, when the captain said that they had the tide and wind she departed.
Her father and mother watched approvingly as their youngest daughter boarded and the dark ship left the port.
Her parents were accompanied by a few of her siblings, many of their slaves, and much of their guard.
It was a quiet affair. But it spoke volumes to Raveres' spirit.
And the sight made her feel a surge of glory she'd never felt before.
Before she'd left her mother bestowed an amulet of Khaine and implored her; "Wear it until you are returned to us… And bathe it in the blood of your first killing. Such an offering will lend you the favour of the dark lord."
Raveres pressed a hand to her chest, feeling for the powerful talisman under her thick clothes.
She waved once to her family before turning towards the bow of the ship.
The sailors unfurled the black sheets of the ships' rigging and the mates yelled orders as they went about their work.
The captain and leader of the expedition was a newly appointed dreadlord and bore a 'writ of iron' from Har Ganeth. This in addition to his personal ambitions and dedication to raiding the seas earned him a letter of marque, sealed with the Witch King's standard.
Raveres could not have found a better sponsor to attach herself to.
She looked ahead at the cold and smooth waves and felt encouragement as the wind whipped around them.
Strands of her hair flew in the breeze and she took in the salty scent of the air before stepping closer to the captain.
The dreadlord held command over the crew and the mission, but as the financier Raveres was second in command.
Her status as a relatively unknown Druchii inspired suspicion in the crewmen, but with the captain's endorsement she felt confident that any doubts in her abilities would swiftly be quashed.
All in all Raveres was optimistic about what was to come, and she couldn't help but feel the call of destiny from across the waves.
…
The first week of sailing was calm and uneventful.
Raveres found in the ships' Lieutenant a competent sparring partner and the two would train with each other using wooden swords on the main deck of the ship.
The training helped keep her skills sharp and provided some welcomed entertainment for the crew.
At the end of the first day Raveres noticed that she was the sole female Druchii aboard the ship, and that there were not nearly as many slaves as she had thought there was going to be and among them, there was but one woman; a brunette human, purchased for the ship by the captain to act as courtesan and companion should any of the men wish to pay for it…
This led her to be very grateful for her cabin having a lock and bolt for the door, though she had announced to the crew that if any of them so much as looked at her in a licentious manner she'd gouge out his offending eye and hurl it into the sea.
The ship was called 'Witches Wail' and was a multi-decked human ship, captured and repurposed for the Druchii it bore large holds and several cabins; it was a former merchant frigate and Raveres was happy that the holds would be able to accommodate more than enough cargo to make good on her father's investment.
The ship had four masts and Raveres was more than pleased that the frigate was able to make fifteen knots due to the streamlined keel and design of her hull.
The crew numbered around one hundred and fifty and was more than capable for what Raveres and the captain had planned.
Leaning against the quarter deck's railing the female Druchii looked across the clear horizon with a mischievous smile.
This was the first time that Raveres had been to sea for days on end and she was happy with herself that she had so far acclimatised to the rolling waves well.
Any sign of weakness could not be allowed in front of the men.
The fact she'd never actually killed another warrior, Druchii, or even slave! Was also something that she was not about to divulge.
Everything about her youth and inexperience was going to be a dear secret…
All she had to do is maintain the façade… And they'd never know the difference.
Poking out from below deck a younger Druchii runner yelled, "Lady Raveres to the captains' cabin! Officer's meeting!"
She pushed herself off the railing and immediately thumped across the wooden deck towards the portal to the lower deck.
As she passed the crewmen saluted her and gave her a wide birth.
Entering into the captain's large cabin she saw the captain pointing at an exquisitely drawn chart.
The lieutenant and first mate were shaking their heads as Raveres clicked her heels, announcing her arrival.
"Ah; the golden girl!"
The captain affectionately referred to her with some variation of such a pet-name.
At first she resented it, but by now she'd actually come to like the constant reference to her status as the money behind this whole operation.
"What's the matter captain?"
The lieutenant answered before the captain could, "Well Dorath here wants to adjust our course last minute!"
Raveres furrowed her brow and quickly closed the door to the cabin behind her; it was immediately obvious that this was a discussion not for the crew's ears.
"Oh?"
The lieutenant nodded and looked sternly across the table at the captain, "Oh…" he repeated.
The captain crossed his arms; "It'd add a few days at most!"
Raveres spoke quizzically, "Where would this detour take us?"
The captain smiled sadistically and leaned towards the map.
"Well," he pointed to a roughly drawn charcoal line.
"From the stars this morning and our speed so far I've projected that we're right about…"
He measured with his hand,
"Here."
Indicating a stretch of open ocean Raveres naturally saw that the closest land was that of Ulthuan's Shifting Isles.
"Let me guess…"
The captain leaned back and smiled.
The lieutenant huffed and the first mate remained silent.
"You want to raid one of the elvish towns?"
The captain nodded, "Aye…"
Raveres raised an eyebrow, it wasn't the mission… and she didn't feel like risking the wrath of a better equipped High Elf battleship, but…
She couldn't be seen as a coward either.
"What are your thoughts?" she asked, looking at the first mate.
The grizzled Druchii rubbed his chin and looked up at the female.
"I say we take it."
"We get ourselves some white sails, elvish clothes and it will assure the safety of our return journey."
Raveres nodded.
The captain smirked in satisfaction.
The lieutenant held his tongue.
"We're agreed then?"
The captain held up his hand and the grizzled first mate followed, Raveres couldn't help but think the plan sounded strong… But she honestly didn't know one way or another.
And her lack of confidence made her also raise her hand in agreement.
'These sea-dogs know raiding better than I…'
She cringed, 'I can't risk their confidence now… we're so close to our goal…'
The lieutenant looked at the captain, mate, and then Raveres before reluctantly raising his hand as well.
"Splendid!" the captain crowed, "Unanimity!"
Sitting up he made his way to grab a bottle of ruby port he kept beside his hammock and he grabbed four wooden cups.
After pouring each officer a healthy portion of the beverage he held his cup aloft and smiled, "To bleeding our financier Raveres!"
Raveres smiled.
"May Khaine bless her first raid!"
The mate and lieutenant repeated the invocation and they touched cups.
The alcohol was a welcome burn across her tongue and Raveres nervously began thinking about the coming attack.
…
After informing the crew of their new heading, the men were all encouraged with the knowledge they'd be blooding their blades so much sooner than they had previously thought.
At night the Druchii ship slipped along the dark and rocky coast, very few lanterns were lit and the men all maintained deathly silence.
The ships cartographer kept a watchful eye to the heavens and ensured that they were still heading for their target; a trading port north of Mistnar fortress.
When the lights of the town finally came into view the crew all held their breath as they began to imagine the spoils to be had.
"Make ready the ballistae." The lieutenant ordered quietly.
"Adjust our glide, bring in the sails!" the captain hushed.
Raveres had shed her thick warmer clothing and was wearing a simple blouse under her cuirass. She followed the first mate's advice and left off the rest of her armour; in a raid speed and surprise was everything.
Unnecessary armour and weaponry would only serve to slow her down.
Though gunpowder weaponry was not a Druchii specialty the ship was equipped with a few cannon left over from its previous human owners.
The rolling weapons were aimed out of their respective portholes and loaded with shot, waiting the captain's order to open up hellfire.
Over the side of the ship two of the frigate's lifeboats were readied and waiting to descend into the water.
The captain nodded to the other officers as Raveres and the first mate descended from the quarterdeck.
"We're going to be going for any of the wealthy homes as well as town hall. Take anything you can carry and if you take slaves, make sure they're pretty ones!"
The men gruffly laughed.
"May our slaughtering please Khaine! Let the arrows fly!"
With that the men all roared as one.
The cannons below deck fired and the ballistae bolt throwers above deck let loose their oil covered projectiles.
Raveres and the first mate climbed over the side of the ship and were followed by many of the eager and bloodthirsty crew.
The small boat descended into the water and the whole while Raveres held her left hand to her chest.
She was thankful for the cover of night that none of the crew could see her nervousness or apprehension.
Her heart beat faster than she'd ever felt it beat before and she could feel her fingers shake from the adrenaline.
'Here we go…' she repeated in her head.
'Follow the men… follow the men, don't make a show of it… it's just like sparring…'
She laughed nervously, 'Except; don't get hit.'
The small boat skipped across the water as the reaper bolts and cannon balls soared overhead.
The men still aboard the ship fired their crossbow repeaters or maintained the ships' position.
The town now echoed with screams and shouts as bells rang out in desperation.
The first mate yelled to Raveres and his men as they came closer to one of the port's lower docks.
"Keep your spoils to coins, jewels, and that which can be carried! I do not want any of you idiots bringing a goddamn rucksack of candelabras again; keep in mind the weight of us plus our treasure! We will not, I repeat, we will not be making multiple trips back and forth to the ship."
Raveres nodded quickly and the men loudly agreed.
The boat came to the dock and the men jumped onto the wooden platform.
Swords drawn and teeth bared they sprinted up the docks to the nearest buildings to begin their work.
Raveres followed behind, her chest heaving within her armour.
Her neck sweat and her hand felt clammy on her swords' handle, the excitement was almost too much for her as she realised; 'This is happening… this is really happening!'
'Whoo… come on Raveres! For gold and glory!'
Following the crewmen onto dry land Raveres noticed immediately her body's natural compensation for sea waves was no longer necessary, and the solid ground below her feet stayed in place.
She nearly tripped at first but swiftly she was able to recover and maintain her forward momentum.
Ahead an armoured high elf night guard readied his spear and he yelled to his comrades, "Get the people out! The Druchii are here!"
Around him several guards and soldiers in varying states of dress and equipment came into view and made a line across the street before them,
Raveres could barely understand the high elves. Their language was similar to hers, but her whole life she'd never actually heard the 'mother tongue' or 'true elvish' and so it seemed like a comically exaggerated accent.
The crew men ahead of her were readying for the brawl and leapt towards the unprepared guardsmen.
Raveres saw for the first time real combat and the sound was like a symphony: the rough clanging of metal, the piercing of armour and the grunts and wails of men as they injured one another.
She began to smile and her hand tightened around her blade's handle.
'Now… I must prove myself! Now!'
She tensed and her feet twitched as she came alongside her fighting comrades.
The high elf who naturally stood opposite her in the two lines eyed her with surprise.
She narrowed her eyes and let her mind clear.
Raveres wasn't about to wonder what he was surprised at, she didn't care, and it didn't matter to the fight.
All she had to do was parry that spear and drive her blade through his chainmail… 'Ha he's not even wearing a breastplate! Bury your steel in his flesh… baptise yourself… become a true Druchii…'
'Here we go…'
Minding her footing and the fighting occurring to her sides she began teasing an advance towards the elf.
He at first backed up, but quickly began making short lunges towards her with his weapon.
Her eyes widened as she parried and dodged his attacks.
'He's faster than he looks! Damn it Raveres… riposte the cunt! Riposte!'
She groaned loudly in frustration, she was able to parry and avoid his attacks but she'd yet to see an opening for her to successfully riposte after her feinting.
Then she saw it, the elf misjudged her position and distance and he over extended his lunge.
'He can't recover in time…' The thought raced and her body moved on its own. Years of dry training in her family courtyard had finally paid off.
She easily avoided his strike and took hold of his spear under her left arm while lunging forwards with her right.
The force she'd put behind the attack drove the blade easily through his gorget and the mail underneath.
She'd punctured his chest and a lung and he quickly fell to his knees; fear and disbelief across his clean and handsome face.
Bringing her foot up to his chest she pushed him backwards while simultaneously ripping her blade from him.
Her heart was beating so fast that she couldn't believe that time was flowing as it was.
And she became cold in her limbs as a strange fear came over her, her blade was not giving way!
'Come on, come on!'
She kicked the dying elf as hard as she could finally pulling free her weapon, but behind the crumpled, dead, elf a swordsman wearing a simple tunic and his long hair loose pointed at Raveres and sprinted towards her.
The crew on her sides were each locked in their own melees and she quickly readied her sword as she lowered into her practised 'en guard'.
The swordsman yelled loudly and performed a fleche.
Raveres stepped back and raised her blade to try and counter.
She succeeded in narrowly averting death, but the swordsman collided with her and the two fell to the ground.
Straddling her chest the swordsman brought his gloved hand down to her face in a punch.
His face was filled with rage and he happily prepared to pound Raveres into a pulp.
The first hit collided with her cheek and pushed her head against the stone ground loudly.
Her ears rang and she struggled to move her left hand to defend herself.
The fall had winded her and she struggled to breathe especially now with the weight of the rocking and live elf on top of her.
She had to do something she had drilled herself never to do…
She had to let go of her sword.
If she didn't she wouldn't be able to defend her face and make sure the elf didn't drive his blade through her skull with only one hand.
After letting go of her blade she brought her hands up and the two became locked in a loud and brutal wrestling fight. The male eventually got the upper hand by sitting up slightly and bringing his full weight down onto Raveres' chest.
Though she was wearing a cuirass the blow still was enough to cause her to cough and lose her grip on his sword hand.
Her heart beat so loud and fast she swore it was about to explode; the elf brought his blade above her and was about to bring it down into her horror strewn face, involuntarily she began to let out a raspy cough laden scream until the swordsman was finally impaled from behind.
The first mate pushed the groaning elf off of Raveres and quickly extended his hand to help her stand.
Warm blood splattered across her face and she could feel her head pulse loudly as her ears continued to ring.
Her chest didn't stop hurting and her heart showed absolutely no signs of slowing.
She wanted to be sick… she felt shaken and off balance.
Her whole body was in a state of shock, but she was caught at the moment, forced to maintain some semblance of control.
When she came to her feet the mate handed her sword back to her and slapped her face.
"Keep your wits about you! If you die your father will have us all killed!"
She nodded, though she couldn't quite hear the mate's words.
"Keep fighting men! Push the bastards back!"
Raveres leaned against the corner of the nearby wall and took a moment to regain her breath.
The few elf guardsmen who remained alive were routing down the street, followed closely by a few of the more zealous crewmen.
'The… the amulet…' keeping her sword drawn Raveres walked to the corpse she had made and quickly shot her left hand down the front of her cuirass and in between her breasts.
The amulet of Khaine was slick with her sweat and she had trouble bringing it up and out from her armour.
When it hung against the metal of her chest she descended to her knees and touched the dead elf's blood covered puncture wound.
Wetting her fingers she quickly began smearing the warm blood against the talisman.
Under her breath she prayed, hoping to invoke the bloody god's favour.
Mid prayer she felt a rumble of revulsion in her stomach.
She looked at the blank expression of the cooling corpse and she immediately turned to her side.
Using her sword to steady herself she began vomiting onto the blood stained cobblestone.
It was painful and she felt her muscles and throat burn, but she pushed herself up into a stand as soon as she finished.
'Keep… going…'
She took several steps down the street and kept mentally chanting, 'keep going, keep going, do what they do…'
The doors to the houses were being smashed in and the crewmen began their rapine plunder.
Raveres avoided the shops and the middle class homes and continued down the main street towards the large display of torchlight.
Rounding the corner of the street she came to the town's empty market square. Ahead in the centre of the open gardened area she saw the mate and many of the crew at the doors of what she assumed was the town hall.
They were using a garden bench to batter the doors and the mate was ordering "heave! Heave! Put your backs into it you sea-dogs! Heave!"
Raveres steeled herself and quickly walked up towards the men.
The doors cracked in an awful sound and began to give way.
Sheathing her sword she immediately took hold of a side of the bench and helped smash the improvised battering ram into the door again and again.
…
When the Druchii finally left the town and began sailing off they had been able to successfully empty the town's coffers.
The elves must have been preparing for something important because the vault of the white stone building was filled with coin and bullion.
Though the captain had ordered that they not make more than one trip in the small boats the Druchii were not about to let slip such a large catch of treasure.
They couldn't believe their luck…
And as they sailed away into the night the crew peeled their eyes for any sign of pursuers.
Their previous objective of stealing white sails and elven clothing fell by the wayside when the avaricious Druchii saw the hoard they had 'fairly' won.
They now could set ahead to their original mission confident that they were blooded and surely blessed by Khaine.
…
The next day saw the Witches Wail sailing as though nothing had slowed its original course.
Raveres, however, was not handling her first battle as well…
Sitting in her hammock she'd remained in her cabin since returning to the ship, but sleep hadn't come to her and instead she persisted in a state between sleep and waking.
She'd wrapped herself in her fur bedding and shook while sweating; hoping futilely that the rhythmic swaying of the hammock would somehow soothe her nerves.
"I did well… I did well… I did well…" She would occasionally whisper when her shaking and nervousness reached unbearable levels.
She'd killed at least three elves that night that she was certain of… but the face which had burned itself most into her mind was that of the swordsman who had gotten the closest to killing her.
Each time she'd close her eyelids his rage filled expression would fill her vision and she'd be forced to open them again.
Her cheek had swollen and her face stung with tightness and pain; it was a powerful, constant, and frightening reminder of her very close brush with death.
She had stripped herself of her armour and her bloody clothes the moment she was safely in her cabin and its door was locked behind her.
She'd washed off the blood from her face but she had to reduce herself to completely bare skin, and her undergarments too came off. They remained on the wooden floor of the cabin where she had shed them.
Since then she'd remained in her hammock, tightly wrapped in its' warm fur. Her sweat-covered and sore body enjoyed the embrace of the bedding, but she remained oppressed.
Though she had taken off all her clothes and she'd even removed the ribbon from her hair she still felt covered in something.
And though she was exhausted, this feeling of being covered and the face of the elvish swordsman kept her in a tormenting state of formless anxiety.
On the deck above she heard the ship's bell ring, announcing the beginning of the 'day'.
'I'm not going out there… I don't have to go out there… Yes… that's right, I don't have to…'
Her thoughts immediately began to trip over as she tried to stay focused.
A knock at her cabin door made her hands shake and her legs twitch involuntarily.
"Lady Raveres? The captain would like to see you on the quarterdeck."
'No… no… not going out there…'
She remained silent, 'I can outlast him… I can outlast anyone…'
Eventually the owner of the voice walked away.
Relief flooded her blood and she finally had a cause which allowed her body to relax.
The exhaustion and the weight all seemed to fall at once, and though it seemed like such a trifle thing she finally felt the embrace of sleep cover her.
…
Above on the deck the captain and lieutenant used spyglasses to inspect a small shape at the edge of the horizon behind them.
"Could be elven?" The captain asked.
The lieutenant nodded, "Aye… could be human too… we are approaching the trade lanes."
The ship's runner saluted and clicked his heels and the two officers turned to face the young man.
"Lady Raveres is still asleep sir."
The captain laughed, "My, my! Still tired? Gods these nobles… a little bit of work and they immediately need a day off…"
The lieutenant smiled and immediately turned back to watch the ship behind them.
The runner saluted and left as the captain waved him off.
"We can outrun them." The captain announced confidently.
The lieutenant nodded again, "Aye… but should they follow us to our destination in Araby?"
The captain pursed his lips and closed his spyglass.
"That'll be all lieutenant."
The junior officer held his tongue and saluted, "Sir."