Author's notes: This is my little project that I have been working on for two years now as a character in a LARP. grins She is also in my armies and this is her story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Malus darkblade or the dark elves as a race, what they do though can be taken as artistic licencing as no one really knows how dark elves would act. Sueing me will earn you nothing as that about as much as I have in my bankaccout.
Chapter 1: Assassin's blade
It was dark and cold in the darkness of the city. Towers like blades stabbed into the reddening of the sunset. To those who looked on it was as if the towers had ripped a hole in the fabric of the sky. Those that watched the sky though where the ones that where to fall to the true blades of those that worked beneath, the cities night was starting early as the hour of feasting fell upon them. The city of Hag Greaf waited for its lords to break bread with abated breath for at this hour the most danger awaited. Death at the time of feast was an evil omen and to be the murderer was even worse. Death at the hands of the faithful of the temple awaited even one of their own that disobeyed this law.
At this time a lone woman sat at a window watching the ebbing of the sun. Light was barely worth anything here and you could tell by the pale hue of her skin that she had not been in the suns embrace for many a year. It was a pale cream colour with pale silver veins mapping the entire surface of her body. Her nails where long and seemed to be painted a soft silver colour that glinted strangely in the waning light. Her hair was long and black with unchanging highlights of pale red-brown. Her almond shaped eyes where a bright violet that held knowledge well beyond the years her fragile body seemed to be. High eyebrows graced her forehead, delicately tapered and finely pointed, her lips where a deep red, like that of a rose. She was slender and perfect in almost every way and now she sat poised and ready for anything. Twin swords where strapped to several thin leather belts crafted to look like intertwining branches. She wore a simple outfit of a chiffon white blouse with a red armoured corset pressed easily over the top; her arms were protected by silver vambraces as were her legs. She wore simple doe skin trousers died black and tight against her legs, thigh high boots covered the trousers.
She sat languidly near the window her eyes lidded in contentment as she watched the sun going down, her family where safe and her endeavours today had gone better than expected. She was feeling pleased with herself and was taking this moment to relax. Not too far from her left hand was a small table decorated with cutting knives and implements drenched with fresh gore. Next to these was a silver goblet full of blood wine. She has only just mixed it and steam rose from the liquid to mingle with the stream of scent that lingered around the room. She glanced at the heap on the floor as it let out a moan.
An afternoon's work was laid out before her feet, a restful activity of pastime that all her apparent kin shared. Although she rarely enjoyed the sport today had been different, today she had enjoyed the knife, the flesh, the scent and above all the ecstasy of the event. She had loved it for the first time of her life.
He had been a noble elven knight of some great repute when she had started. Now he was spent from the screams, the passions and many other things besides. He had enjoyed himself just as much as she and she knew that if he could at this moment he would beg for more…but it had only been a diversion and if he did not survive this night he would be served to the slaves as a decent piece of meat to their thin stew. If he survived he would be trouble and so she would enter him in the arena, another way for her to make money and set her family in a position within the city. She would enjoy that event if it ever came to being but the way he was tonight she doubted he would see the morning if she decided that she needed satisfying later.
The bundle shifter slightly drawing her gaze, which narrowed slightly as she contemplated the man, rather as a hunter regards its prey.
A knock at the door drew her attentions away from the creature on the floor and lifted her head to where the sound came from. She growled low and tried to ignore the sound, whoever it was would not distract her from her current happiness. The door opened slowly with a creak as she turned back to the window and stared out over the city sprawled below. To the person that entered she would look as if she had not even acknowledged them. The elf moaned again and the sound of steel being unsheathed rang through the small bedroom. The moaning was quickly silenced as steel slid through bone.
"Now, now Malus, it's not polite to enter without knocking," The woman chided.
"I knocked," The man defended his cause.
"Without acknowledgement then," The woman growled slightly again at the correction, "It is even worse to destroy a slave that does not belong to you." She still had not turned away from the window and smiled as he answered her.
"It was annoying me."
"And it was my play thing for the night…how will you repay me?" The highborn glanced around the room and caught sight of a large leather covered, high backed chair. He grabbed it roughly causing the woman to glare at him, narrowing her dark violet eyes, "And don't destroy the furniture…that's dwarf leather you know!" In answer he pulled it harshly to sit across from her and sat in the chair staring at her. His sword point resting on the floor he leaned forward and placed his chin on the pommel glaring at her with cold grey eyes.
"That can be dealt with later." His voice was harsh now, with an edge of anger.
"What troubles you cousin?" she replied finally turning her whole body to face him. For a moment his eyes where appreciative and then they returned to being cold and hard again.
"There was an attack earlier." He grinned at her and let one hand wander to his back from which he withdrew a large cloth bound item.
"And this has what to do with me?" the woman asked clearly intrigued by what Malus held in his hands. She was leaning forward and reaching out to it and was about to touch it before she checked herself and pulled back. His grin widened and became crueler as she watched. He removed the package from her sight and leant back one hand still on his sword.
"I think you know. It was an attack on my mother." She shrugged.
"And? There are attacks made on your mother every day!"
"This on was by an assassin…of the temple and he was after something else…or rather someone." He dusted his gloved finger tips off on his armour and then studied them, "He was after the dragon hearted elf that is not truly one of us." He pulled the package back out and pulled off some of the strings dropping it at her feet. The cloth fell away revealing a simple dagger, glowing with magical energies. "He was sent after you…" his sneer became a wide grin as he leaned forward, "Aradwen."
Author's notes: Hope you liked it.