Peering into the pitch black darkness of the night with his vision already adjusted, Ralas tightened the grip upon his hand held crossbow as he fought the rising anxiety within him. Surrounded by the trees of the Black Forest, he was accompanied by nine of his kinband, each one a fellow Autarii experienced in the ways of stealth, forestry and murder. Clad in a city-kin crafted Kheitan of tanned human flesh and a thick black cloak made from the fur of a bear, Ralas should have felt warm in his garments, instead he felt an unnatural chill which cut to his bones.
Each member of the Autarii war party was like Ralas, a veteran of many battles. Each of them were a kinsman he would equally trust to either put a knife in his back when it proved profitable or to save his own own. Leading their party was Nalthien Maar, the eldest son of their clan's Urhan and a master swordsman with twin blades.
Unlike the rest of the Autarii party, Nalthien wore the garb of a Corsair. Clad in armor of plate and chain which proved to not only be protective but surprisingly also light and easy to move in, he wore upon his back a cloak of dragon which itself was also as effective as steel. The most distinguishable aspect his wargear were his twin swords which glowed with a ruby red light, both blades had gilded hilts shaped in form of sea dragons and its enchantments were said to be a gifts from a Sorceress of distant Ghrond.
Having lived for three centuries and having fought in many battles across Naggaroth, Lustria, Ulthuan and Elthin Arvan, there were few things which could make the Autarii feel fear, and yet what they sought, what they hunted, had filled him with a deeper dread than anything he knew. For many weeks now, something had been killing the hunters of many Autarii clans within the Black Forest, it had left bodies shriveled, desiccated and soulless as if they had been dead for centuries, without these hunters, many clans faced the threat of starvation or the predations of the wild beasts, Frost Goblins, Orcs and fellow Druchii.
Some say what the thing which was killing his kin was one of the Pale Queen's Rephallim. Others say it was a Maelith, perhaps an unnatural and sorcerous beast of chaos, or even a daemon of the Dark Prince that hungered for elven souls. None of the stories which passed were very assuring for none among the Autarii actually knew what they were dealing with.
In past week alone, five members of their own clan had been found dead with their bodies turned into dried husks like the others. Nalthien had been quick to demand vengeance for among the dead was a maiden many of their clan believed was the former Corsair's betrothed. He had sworn to Anath Raema that he would slay this creature and present its head to the Savage Huntress.
Ralas and the rest of their kinhband had "volunteered" to join with some less willing than others. If Ralas had his way, he would have had the clan get out of the Black Forest and move elsewhere. He actually would not have minded abandoning his clan and striking out on his own were it not for his Oaths towards his clan.
Now stuck in the wilds where an unknown and certainly unnatural creature was killing his people, Ralas continued to warily search through the darkness. Looking towards his kin to make sure everyone was there, Ralas did quick head count and he was swiftly alarmed that one of them was missing.
'Where is Hadroth!?' hissed Ralas with alarm as his kin quickly looked about the forest as well with crossbows raised.
'He was here just a moment ago!' hissed the voice of Kelamir who wielded a heavier variant of the Uraithen.
'Be silent and keep your damn eyes open!' commanded Nalthien with a snarl.
Obeying their leader, the Autarii party maintained their vigil. With his heart pounding beneath his chest and sweat beginning to mat his hands, Ralas thought he saw something move in the shadows. Pulling the trigger of his crossbow, a trio of bolts flew into the darkness and he heard no shriek of anguish.
Silence continued to surround the party as they formed up into a defensive circle and several tense moments passed. Something heavy suddenly thudded upon the snowy ground behind Ralas and in the center of their formation. Quickly turning around and looking towards what had landed, he quickly swore in the Mother of the Night's name as he saw a withered husk which lay upon the ground.
It was Hadroth he realized for the corpse wore the same silver chalice amulet he had always kept after that raid on Bretonnia a century ago. Hadroth's eyes were gone and his body looked like one of those walking corpses that roamed the desert realms south of Elthin Arvan. His mouth was stuck widely open in a silent scream as skeletal hands clutched his withered neck.
A unintelligible whispering sound began to emanate from the forest, it was a deep, rich voice which filled Ralas with a primal sense of fear. The whispers soon became more coherent and it spoke to them 'You will die… you will all die…'
Feeling a sudden chill upon his spine, Ralas suddenly heard Kelamir scream as dark tendrils suddenly embraced him. His screams were not the pleasing thing Ralas would listen too when torturing a creature, it was a deeper sound of agony as his very spirit was agony. Trying to back away, Ralas suddenly felt something hard constrict his left leg and he fell with surprise towards the snow ground.
As he tried to get up, he felt more things wrap around his body and soon he could not move. As terror swiftly built up within him, he heard the whisperings continue.
'You will die… you will all die…' continued the voice like a chant as the party of Autarii were slowly surrounded by an unnatural darkness and a chill which reached their very souls. They were doomed, Ralas knew that there was no escaping the darkness which came for them.
Years Later...
Shelaniryeth giggled with amusement as a surprised shriek came from the small, fur-clad goblin was caught in her trap. It hung upside down from the branch of a tree with, it's right foot was ensnared by a a strong cord of rope, its smelly fur hat had fallen to the snowy ground and revealing the bald plate of its head. It loudly squealed in its crude, high pitched tongue as it flailed about and when Shelaniryeth emerged from her hiding spot from behind some bushes, she asked 'Do you want to be friends?' The creature looked at her with terror and it continued to babble in its language. The Autarii child then replied 'I think you do.'
Pulling out a hunting knife, she heard the creature begin to wail and cry before she plunged her knife into its gut. Silly little greenskin she thought for the creature which a bit earlier been armed with a bow was clearly out hunting but it quickly became distracted by the shiny silver coin she had left for it. The greenskin did not even notice the trap she had set and its foot got snagged by the rope.
Gently sliding the tip of the knife across its chest and up towards the groin which was thankfully covered by a crude fur garment, she suddenly smelled a foul stench which began to emanate from the creature and liquid began to drip down its loin cloth. The creature had just soiled itself and the magic of the moment was just ruined.
Angry and annoyed that her new "friend" had made a bad impression of itself, she quickly plunged her knife into its gut and she began to saw around its belly. The goblin cried in agony as it continued to beg and plead towards the Autarii child who continued to have fun with cutting up the creature. Upon the greenskin's ugly little visage, she imagined the faces of some of the other children in her clan of whom she did not have a particular fondness for.
The continued screams of the greenskin was soothing to the Autarii's ears, she giggled some more she cut and cut, drawing out its agony and pain. When she had felt satisfied, Shelaniryeth eventually plunged her knife into its now emptied right eye socket and silencing the creature forever. With a smile upon her lips as her doeskin tunic was now stained with green blood, she felt the pent up rage and frustration all gone now.
While the idea of running off into the woods and living by herself had once been a tempting thing. Shelaniryeth knew full well what happened to Autarii girls who would try to run away, or what would happen to those who were capture by the other clans. With a sigh, she sheathed her hunting knife and went back towards the camp of her clan and she hoped that she could get through the day without trying to knife one of the other children.
Walking back towards the camp, she had along the way, picked up a woven basket which she had set down earlier. The basket was filled with several poisonous mushrooms and plants which were either edible or useful in the creation of toxins used by her clan's warrior. Of course it was not like they would bother to send anyone to guard her, they wouldn't mind if Shelaniryeth herself got eaten by wolves or the other clans.
Moving under the shadowed eaves with the ground littered by frost and leaves, she eventually felt eyes looking at her from the surrounding brush. 'I know your there!' she shouted with a hint of annoyance, towards whoever of her clan was watching her. When no answers came, she grunted and stepped forwards until stopping before a pile of leaves.
'Really!?' she called out again, the old trap under a pile of leaves thing was just so unimaginative. Going around the pile of leaves, she took a few steps forwards until suddenly, she felt the ground suddenly collapse underneath her. With a surprised cry, Shelaniryeth fell down the freshly dug pit and landed hard upon the ground beneath.
Sprawled upon the now leaf filled ground, she felt the stinging pain as her elbows and knees were scraped. Groaning in pain and trying to get up, she heard the cruel laughter of the other children.
'I'd be careful if I were you!' shouted the voice of a boy named Lathar who was the Urhan's youngest son 'those Needle Biters must be as angry as an orc by now!'
With eyes widening with shock, Shelaniryeth looked down to see several small, skittering spiders crawling about. Feeling several sudden stinging pains upon her arms and legs, she began to shriek and flail about frantically as the spiders began to bite her flesh, each one injecting a mild poison which made it feel like needles were puncturing her skin.
Quickly looking around the pit, she leapt towards the nearest wall of earth and she desperately began to climb. With the same cat-like grace most of her kind possessed, Shelaniryeth easily climbed to the surface, her relief at getting out had quickly evaporated as she saw a group of four children waiting for her.
Before she could utter a word, one of the children, a girl named Xerenal who was holding a stick had smacked the piece of wood upon Shelaniryeth's head. Feeling a sudden sense of vertigo, the Autarii child fell back into the pit of spiders as the laughter of the other children had filled her ears.
Sitting upon a sturdy wooden chair with a fire in front of him, Urhan Maar listened to the words of the scout with dread. The Whispering Doom, as the clans had begun to call the thing which now lived in the Black Forest was on the move. For ten years, the creature had ravaged many of the clans and brought nothing but death and ruin.
While no one was still quite sure what it was, the idea that it was a daemon of the Dark Prince had been reinforced for on multiple occasions it had specifically appeared only to attack elves. They had tried to lure it out with slaves from the lesser races, only for the creature to ignore them. When they had tried using other elves as bait, the creature appeared and yet none of their attempts to kill it had proven successful, their last attempt in particular had cost the Urhan an eye which had shriveled to dust in its own socket.
Urhan Maar had led his clan away from the Black Forest and towards the south and for the last eight years, they had not been bothered by the thing. Unfortunately, all that had changed when one of his scouts, Sahair Blackbolt had returned with a desiccated head which had once belonged to one of their clan members, Lorhain Serpentblade.
The all too familiar marks of The Whispering Doom's work was etched upon the skull of Lorhain who had just the previous night, brought back a fresh whole deer for consumption. They would need to move the clan again, perhaps even make an offering to distract it while they moved for such a thing had worked in the past.
While there were many in the clan the Urhan would wish to get rid, most of those he wanted to kill were also too valuable to waste. In the past, the monster seemed to ignore the slave things they kept for reasons unknown to them so even they would not be of any use. With a grin, the Urhan realized that of course, there was one member of his clan no one would really miss.
A bit of a shame though, he would have enjoyed keeping the child around a bit longer so he could have seen the look in her face when explained his intent on making her a Tent Wife to his youngest son.
Awakening with a groan, Shelaniryeth eyes opened to see the curved roof of a tent as her back lay upon several furs. The dim lights of candles had illuminated the tent as their clan's Wise Woman quietly sat near her.
'Foolish child' hissed the rasping voice of the crone who was known to their clan as Mother Issara, 'I send you on one simple errand and you bungle it.'
'I am sorry Mother Issara' said Shelaniryeth as she looked away from the crone's dark eyes 'The other children had set a trap for me.'
'And you should have learned to avoid it!' replied the crone in a tone which was both chiding and filled with quite anger 'how can you expect to become one of the Shades when you fall for such a simple trick'
Shelaniryeth wanted to retort, to snap back at the Wise Woman, but she knew from experience that it would be no use. Noticing that she did not feel any of the stinging venoms of the spiders, the child could already tell that the crone had given her some antidote for the venom.
For as long as she could remember, Shelaniryeth had often been the target of the other children's cruelty. Boys would pelt her with balls of snow which were often mixed with hardened, ice, stones or sometimes dung, girls would say harsh things which cut her on a deep and emotional level and those were on the good days. On the bad days, the other children would use her as target practice for slings or blow darts or even set traps such as earlier.
The only reason why her clan did not have her killed was because of some debt her father held towards the Urhan, one which she supposedly was now charged with one day repaying. While she did not weep much for her father's passing, his death all those years ago had proven to be… disadvantageous to her.
Her father had been a somewhat respected figure among their clan; he had proven himself to be a skilled warrior who prowess in battle was well respected by the elder members of their clan. Shelaniryeth of course had remembered him for his harsh words and the beatings he would give her.
Of her mother, she knew nothing about except that she was dead, slain by the Autarii of a rival clan. The only beings amongst her own clan of whom she felt anything other than loathing, was for the wretched Tent Wives which were the only slaves they really kept.
Each one, from what she had been told were Druchii women who had been captured in raids against the other clans or from the cities. Each had their heads shaved and tattooed, their eyes plucked out, with ears, tongues and vocal cords cut out as well. Each of the wretched things were cripples who lived their lives without sight, without hearing, and without voice.
The Tent Wives were kind to her because it was their purpose, to be hospitable towards their masters or towards guests. Shelaniryeth could see that two of the creatures were also in the tent, each one carefully mixing herbs and poultices by smell and feel. One of the slave things carefully carried a small bowl filled with a pungent mixture; already the child knew that this was likely to be one of the many medicinal tonics the Wise Woman made.
As the slave thing offered the bowl to her, Shelaniryeth propped herself up her left elbow and she took the bowl with her right hand. Placing her lips to the bowl and drinking the tonic, she suppressed the urge to gag and spit out the extremely bitter and sour thing. Finishing the tonic with a relieved gasp, she coughed and sputtered a bit as she wiped away some of the mixture with her sleeve.
The entrance to the Wise Woman's tent had suddenly risen with a pale hand lifting it up to reveal one of their clans hunters named Sahair. 'The Urhan requests for you attendance Mother Issara' he said.
With a silent nod from the crone, she rose up on legs which were surprisingly strong for an elder of her age. 'Rest now and I shall return later' commanded the crone before exiting the tent and leaving Shelaniryeth alone with the Tent Wives.
The slave thing which had brought her the bowl had then begun to gently massage the child's shoulders and head. Feeling the pleasant pressure from the Tent Wife's hands, Shelaniryeth allowed the creature to do her work. Despite the lack of sight, hearing, or voice, there was something about this Tent Wife which seemed to make the thing gravitate towards the Shelaniryeth.
On multiple occasions in the past when the child had been recuperating from what "pranks" the other children had inflicted upon her, this one particular Tent Wife always seemed to be the one who would attend her. She never knew the slave's original name, not that it would matter for the Tent Wife would not even be able to hear it, but there were times when Shelaniryeth wondered who the slave had once been.
Had the slave once been a member of another clan? One of the city-dwellers? All of these were questions the Autarii child supposed that she would never know. Looking up to the empty pits of where the slaves eyes had once been, the creature mouthed silent words like before and Shelaniryeth could not help but feel that it was trying to tell her something.
'We are moving the camp' commanded Urhan Maar as he addressed his clansmen.
'And where will we go?' asked one of his Shades, a warrior by the name of Khallos 'If we go further south, we will enter the regions contested by the Shadow Spite and Venom Wing clans.' His voice was filled with suppressed fear for word of the monster's renewed presence had quickly spread around the camp.
'I shall decide upon that later' replied the Urhan who made it clear in his tone that he wished no argument 'we will also be leaving the beast an offering so it may leave us be while we move.' The attentions of the many Autarii were quickly caught by the Urhan's mention of an "offering".
'Worry not my kin' said the Urhan 'no one within this tent will be left behind.' There was a unified feeling of relief amongst his kin and soon many of them quickly were already wondering who would be left for The Whispering Doom. It did not take long for his clansmen to quickly come to the conclusion on who it would be and many gave looks of approval to the Urhan.
Without needing a verbal confirmation from the rest of his clan, Urhan Maar nodded and waved for his kin to make ready.
Sitting cross legged while patiently waiting for the Wise Woman to return, Shelaniryeth watched with now mounting boredom as the Tent Wives silently awaited the return of the crone. They had already finished mixing up a number of poultices and salves and after cleaning up, they knelt obediently at the center. Beginning to grow weary and even starting to doze off, the child heard the crunch of snow outside the entrance main entrance of the tent.
'Come out here child!' commanded the voice of The Wise Woman from outside.
Quickly getting up and obeying the crone, Shelaniryeth went to the entrance of the tent. Pulling up the fur flap, she saw the grim face of Mother Issara as she was accompanied by two of their clansmen. Before the child knew it, the two clansmen quickly grabbed Shelaniryeth who struggled in their grasp.
She tried to get her knife, but quickly realized that she had been relieved of it when she had been taken into the Wise Woman's tent. Shouting curses as she struggled and tried to fight back but the two fully grown males were much stronger than her, she saw the grim faces of her clan with the other children giving her a sadistic look of glee. Her limbs were soon bound with rope and her mouth was gagged by her clansmen, continuing to struggle, she looked at her clan with a mixture of rage, hate and fear. Stepping forwards from the group was theUrhan who was clad in a suit of black scale armor.
With his one eye, he gave Shelaniryeth a contemptuous look and spoke 'We will be moving camp, but not without you child' he said coldly 'I saved your father's life once in Lustria a century ago and he owed me a debt, that debt has passed on to you and as Urhan I will now consider that debt settled, with your life.' Eyes widening with horror, the child shouted muffled curses at the injustice of this.
'You will be given as an offering to The Whispering Doom, and with your death, our clan shall live on' said the Urhan. The crone then came towards the child as she placed a shriveled hand into a fur pouch by the side of her dress, the crone then pulled out a handful of a powdery substance and she began to whisper words of power.
Smoke began to rise from the powder within the crone's hands and it drifted towards Shelanyireth, she tried not to breathe as it surrounded her but it soon became impossible without depriving herself of air. Holding her breath for as long as she could while still struggling with her bindings, the child's lungs began to demand for air. Already panicking, she lost control and took a deep breath of the cold forest air and the smoke.
'Don't feel too bad though' she heard the Urhan say 'I wanted to make you my son's personal Tent Wife'
Her vision began to blur and she suddenly felt dizzy. She heard the voices of her kin mocking her fate and as more than a few called her a weakling and were glad to be rid of her. As Shelanyireth lost consciousness, she felt nothing but hate and anger towards her clan.
Awakening once more after being knocked unconscious, the child found that everything was dark around her. She felt cold, so very cold as she was surprised that her clan mates had also stripped her of all garments. Still bound by rope and left naked in the woods, they had removed the gag over her mouth.
Terror began to well up within her as she noted the silence of the forest around her. There were no birds, insects or wolves which made their usual noises, just an eerie, unnatural silence. Continuing to struggle with her bonds, she should have known that it would be useless but the she would be damned if she did not try.
For many long tiring minutes, Shelanyireth struggled with the bonds until her bare flesh bled and still she was no closer to freedom. As the freezing cold began to take its toll and weariness set in, a part of the child's own consciousness was already telling her to give up. Tears of rage and fear began to pour from her eyes as she knew that it was true and yet she did not wish to submit, she desired to keep on going until she achieved either freedom or death.
An unnatural chill began to creep into her and for a moment she stopped with her struggles. Looking up with fear, she saw something was moving in the darkness. She heard a deep but unintelligible whispering voice coming from all around her. Her heart began to beat faster and she clenched her bowels as the whispering became louder.
Wanting nothing more than to scream in fear and in hate, she shut her mouth and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Mentally, Shelaniryeth began cursing the gods, the monster which came for her and most vehemently, the people of her clan. She cursed the names of each of her clanmates as she hoped that they would all suffer in the Mirai, she cursed them and hoped that all of their lives would end with the worst of possible fates.
As the long agonizing moments drew on, Shelaniryeth noticed with surprise that she was still alive and the whispers had ceased. Slowly opening her eyes and hoping that the monster had lost interest in her for such a thing had happened in the past, the child looked up and her heart skipped a beat.
The monster, The Whispering Doom was a floating nimbus of pure darkness with black tendrils which flailed about its form. Shivering in the cold as she looked up to it, Shelaniryeth noticed a pair of deep purple orbs which looked to be eyes within the nimbus. The orbs gazed expressionlessly upon her, as if it were studying her.
Shuddering at the thought that it may be a creature of the Dark Prince, the child knew well enough for one such as she, a plain old death would be preferable than what a daemon could do. Doing her best to not be fearful and attempting to look as defiant as possible, she then heard the whispering voice again but this time it was clear.
'Left in the woods, naked and alone…' said The Whispering Doom 'left in the cold to die…' it added before slowly circling around her. 'Left with fear, anger, hate… such hate…' continued The Whispering Doom.
'If your going to kill me then just do it!' hissed Shelaniryeth with anger 'put me out of my damned misery so I may at least be rid of this cold!'
'Defiance?' asked the voice with curiosity as it continued to circle her 'good… so very good... and to live with hate… to live with anger… such a strong thing... defiance, hate, anger… what it needs… purpose…' it said.
'Just get it over with damn you!' hissed Shelaniryeth as she looked up to the moving darkness.
'Death… is it death you seek child?' asked the creature.
'What does it look like!' she shouted back in reply 'My clan has made me to be a damned offering to you!'
'Betrayal from kin?' asked the voice 'reason enough for hate…'
'They only kept me around to be made a cripple and to serve them as a slave!' replied the Autarii child with vehemence 'I hated them long before this, so yes it is death I seek! I would prefer it if they all died!'
'You wish for them all to die?' asked The Whispering Doom.
'Yes' hissed Shelaniryeth with hate and rage 'I want them to die! I want them all to die!'
'Now… it has… purpose…' the shadow-thing. In a blink of an eye, Shelaniryeth was covered in the unnatural thing's darkness; she tried to scream but something solid and strong wrapped around her mouth and silencing her and soon there was only darkness.
'Come on! Let's move!' commanded Urhan Maar as his kin finished loading up what they could from the camp while he rode upon the back of a black horse.
Tents were folded up and loaded upon pack horses along with a number of weapons, armor and supplies. He planned to take the clan west near Clar Karond where he had many profitable dealings with the city's Vaulkhar. From there, he could call in a few favors and prepare his clan to capture the territories of another, weaker clan, maybe one in the west in the Shadow Wood.
Urhan Maar hoped that one day; someone puts an end to whatever The Whispering Doom was. He had already lost two sons and many clan members to that monster and it had been quite the headache for him on trying to stay in power as well as dealing with the other clans. Looking to the rest of his clan, he hoped that they would be able to get to Clar Karond with acceptable losses.
His horse then whinnied in fear and he noted the pack horses suddenly began to become agitated. He then heard a deep and all too familiar whispering voice which filled him with dread. His clan suddenly stopped for a moment as they too realized what the whispering voice was.
'Run you fools!' roared the Urhan as terror began to build up within him.
Not needing any further encouragement, the Autarii began dropping their packs filled with provisions whilst they held on to their weapons. Looking to the Wise Woman who began whispering words of power, her spell was interrupted as she suddenly clutched her chest and began to violently spasm. In a sudden horrid moment, the crone opened her mouth to scream but no words came out as her flesh began to slough off of her body like melting wax.
From all around the camp, living shadows fell upon them like a fog and leaving the entire Autarii clan blind. Kicking his now terrified horse into a gallop, Urhan Maar now cared only for saving his own life, he ignored the screams of his kin as rode on. He felt someone being struck down by his horse and he felt whoever it was being trampled under its hooves.
Hardly caring at the moment for whoever he had hit, the Urhan continued to ride on through the veil of unnatural darkness as the whispers continued. Feeling the cold wind on his face, his blindness was suddenly lifted as he could see the natural darkness of the night. Quickly looking around and trying to re-orient himself with his surroundings, he heard the whispering voice once more but this time it was different.
In the distance, he saw a shadowy figure waiting for him; its form was more feminine with eyes of deep amethyst. The creature raised its arms as if trying to welcome him and in a blink of an eye it was already flying towards him with incredible speed. Rephallim! He thought with terror as he kicked his horse into resuming its gallop.
Pointing his crossbow at the ethereal creature, he unleashed a trio of bolts which passed through its body. As the Rephallim drew closer, he could make out its voluptuous features, the creature spoke in an unknown tongue as her arms were widely spread as if desiring to wrap him in an embrace.
Lord of Murder he thought! For the creature was even faster than his horse. Before he knew it, Urhan Maar felt the unnaturally cold caress of the Rephallim as its arms were now wrapped around his body. He screamed in terror and agony as he felt the thing pressing its ethereal lips upon his own.
His flesh began to shrivel as his one remaining eye rolled up. It was as if time moved forwards with each millisecond being equivalent to a century. Soon the Urhan fell off of his horse and he crashed into the snowy ground, all that was left of the Autarii chieftain was a withered husk, devoid of any life or even a soul.
Despite the darkness which had engulfed the clan, Shelaniryeth watched with deep satisfaction as her entire clan died. She reveled in the sight of the death of her clan mates, especially those of the other children who she wished she could have brought herself. Surprisingly, the Tent Wives who were chained together had survived; the slave things were left confused and terrified, all except the one who had often seemed to care for her.
When screaming finally stopped the child went towards the bodies of the dead and took what garments she could. Clothing herself in a fur tunic of deerskin, she saw the unnatural shadows now forming near the slaves. Although she still feared the shadow-thing, Shelaniryeth knew that if it desired her dead then it would have done so already.
The shadow-thing then began to take shape near the slaves and in a blink of an eye; it was replaced by a tall creature wearing what looked to be a black cloak of feathers. The Whispering Doom, whose face was concealed by a featureless mask of silver looked towards the Tent Wife which did not cower from it. The creature then removed a piece of silvery metal, a knife Shelaniryeth realized and the creature handed it to the slave.
The Tent Wife took the blade in her hands and nodded towards the black cloaked creature. Her mouth moved and spoke a voiceless word before quickly plunging the knife into her chest, much to the child's surprise. The creature then bowed its head in silence towards the now dead slave.
Having shouted in surprise at the slave's actions, Shelaniryeth took a step forward before the creature looked to her. The Whispering Doom then pulled back its hood to reveal a long mane of black hair, it then gently removed its mask to reveal the features of an elf. The Whispering Doom was no unnatural creature she realized; it was a Vauvalka, a renegade sorcerer.
'You have nothing more to fear from me child' spoke the sorcerer in a rich and deep voice.
'What are you?' asked Shelaniryeth with trepidation.
'You may call me Arhulan, child' replied the sorcerer 'I am of the Aesanar and sworn to the King of Shadows.'
The Shadow King, thought the Autarii child with dread, he was one of the Shadow Warriors of Nagarthye, one of the hated Asur of distant Ulthuan.
'We are more alike than you think… child' said the Asur as he took a step towards 'you have your mother's eyes you know.'
Taken aback by his words the child replied 'my mother is dead! She was killed many years ago by another clan!'
That is true nodded the Asur who continued to look down upon Shelaniryeth 'Rienelith died when she had had been taken alive by the Autarii, all I have done is to finally put her at rest.' He then glanced back towards the body of the dead slave.
'Why should I believe you, Asur?' asked Shelaniryeth skeptically 'for all I know, you may be lying to me'
'And what would I gain from that child?' asked the high elf 'your clan is dead and now you are orphaned, there is very little I can gain by lying to you now.'
'Then what is it you seek, Asur?' asked the child as she narrowed her eyes, for while she was well aware that this high elf could easily kill her, seeing the death of her clan had somewhat made her feel more ready to face death.
'I seek for you to come with me child' replied the high elf 'come with me to Nagarthye and continue the long war your mother had fought, continue to fight against the tyranny of the Witch King.'
'And if I refuse?' asked the child
'Then I shall leave you here and let Morai-Heg decide your fate' came the cold answer of the high elf. 'But know this' he added 'if you join me, then you shall have the chance to slake your thirst of vengeance, to unleash the anger and rage which boils within you upon those who hated you.'
His words were quite convincing to the child. There was an anger within her, an anger born of the years of abuse she had faced from her clan. While she was satisfied to see her clan die, she was disappointed that it was not by her own hand.
Weighing her options, it was not like she had much of a choice. Alone, she knew that she would not last very long in the wilds, but with this stranger, her chances of survival would be much higher. Besides, if she did not like him, she could always put a knife in his back later.
'Then I shall accept' said the child as she looked the Asur in his amethyst eyes.
'Good, I know you would child' said the high elf as he offered a hand to her 'what is your name'
'Shelaniryeth' she said curtly.
'Too long of a name' commented the high elf 'from now on, your name will be… Shaelyn'
With a nod towards the high elf, she took his with a grim look on her face. The Shadow Warrior then began whispering words of power and soon both they and the remaining slaves were wreathed in unnatural shadows.
After a few moments, the shadows around them had disappeared, leaving nothing but the bodies of the slain as snow slowly fell from the night sky.