The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part II: Allies, Foes, and Bargains
Episode Nine
The battle turned back into their favour after Raveres slaughtered the signalman and Sir Jean rallied several of the faltering Arabyans. Having worked herself into a mental frenzy Raveres set herself towards the main grouping of the Red-Riders and simply began hacking away at them.
She heard her sword lodge itself into the shoulder and collar bone of an opponent and she growled as she speedily kicked the man away as she pulled back her weapon. Without missing a beat as soon as the weapon was free, she then buried the blood-slick blade into another opponent.
Flicking her arm as hard as she could she drew the sharp Druchii steel through his skull and the flesh of his brow like a hot blade through ice. Muscles and skin tore off as blood and cranial fluid spurted while the man died noisily. Her heart was beating and skipping so hard she feared it was going to come up her throat and out of her mouth, but Raveres continued forwards.
Her arm burned, and her shoulder muscles felt like they were tearing, but she bared her teeth, and used pain, anger, and frustration to bolster her attack. With each swing she chipped the weaker steel of her opponent's blades whilst knocking them out of the way or she would land a lethal blow through the sliver of an opening.
The Arabyan guards who had rallied followed Sir Jean as he directed a counter attack against the remaining Red-Riders. Mid-combat Raveres stole a glance away from her opponent and smiled approvingly at the sight of the returning knight and guardsmen.
Her current foe, a lightly armoured rider with long dark hair and deep-set sunken features, took advantage of Raveres' looking away and kicked his leg forwards at Sadalsuud's horse. He had hoped to throw her from the saddle but the she-elf pulled the reins and turned awkwardly, swaying severely but remaining balanced.
The sudden motion caused her stroke to fall and miss its target. Rather than a killing blow Raveres ended up lodging her sword in her opponent's arm. He screamed and looked down in terror at the wound, not only had his attempt failed but he'd been repaid ten-fold. Rather than a clean cut through the limb the blade had passed through one of the bones in his forearm and stopped in the space between the ulna and radius.
With her sword lodged in-between the bones Raveres roared as she withdrew the blade back up. Blood splattered and flicked off her steel in a wide arc as she readied another strike.
With a guttural loud scream, she brought the blade down again and the man let go of his reins to bring his functional left arm up to pathetically defend himself. Her sword came down and cut straight through the other limb to embed into his skull.
With a scream the man's eyes fluttered and he groaned as his horse began bolting from under him. Falling from his saddle Raveres' blade came free from his head and she panted to catch her breath. Sir Jean and the returning cavalry attacked and began following the remaining barbarians as she leaned back in her saddle and allowed herself to relax.
It was terrible, it was bloody, and Raveres began to enjoy it. She moved quicker, things seemed easier to handle, and everything was more natural.
'This is what you were meant to do as a Druchii…' she assured herself, 'You're becoming what you are meant to be…'
She began smiling and a low chuckle escaped her lips as she looked around the field. Men screamed as horse hooves trampled them into the sand; horses whinnied and snorted loudly as they writhed on the ground. Coppery blood filled the air and Raveres could feel it on her tongue and her skin. Broken spears lay here and there impaled into the ground or embedded deeply into a deceased target.
"This is beautiful…"
She smiled and looked around like she was witnessing a religious event. Then she heard Sir Jean's voice and blinked before coming back to her senses.
'What's he saying?'
Shaking her head, she turned to her side and looked at the approaching Breton knight.
"You're mad Druchii!" he shook his head and exhaled nervously, "You've never fought on horseback before that's for damn sure!"
Baring her teeth Raveres smiled eerily. The dark blood splattered across her pale features made her appear like a Wight, or a banshee.
"But we've won have we not?" she asked sadistically.
Sir Jean looked away from the elf to survey the carnage around them. A little more than half of Sadalsuud's men were slain, their horses either remained a few yards away from their fallen masters or they had bolted across the field, back towards the road. Some had dragged their dead riders a few yards before they finally fell out from the stirrups, leaving trenches in the sand and smeared spoors.
Crimson blood stained the sand and there was gore and severed limbs lying amidst fresh corpses and wailing wounded. The knight tensed as he nodded, "Aye… we won…"
Raveres slid from her saddle and made for one of the bodies she had made.
"What are you doing she-elf?"
Looking over her shoulder Raveres moved a few stray strands of hair from over her eye and responded, "I killed these whelps, I own their corpses and anything they may have on them."
She laughed involuntarily, "I'll not let any of these Arabyan cowards at my well-earned spoils!"
Sir Jean tried to hide his discontent but his lips curled in both disgust and disapproval. Furrowing her brow Raveres tilted her head back as she turned to face the knight.
"What? Is looting against your ways too?"
Sir Jean exhaled uneasily and looked on either side of his mount, "It's a nasty reality… I don't like it, but…"
Raveres nodded, "Good, then keep your lack of consent to yourself."
Narrowing his eyes, the knight raised his bloodied sword to point at the Druchii, "Watch your tone elf."
Turning back to her purpose Raveres stooped to begin searching the body of the man whose arms she had brutally disabled. Smirking she took hold of a golden amulet from around his neck and ripped it upwards off its cord. Eyeing the alien talisman with interest she immediately set to weighing it in her hand; judging it and examining the quality of the craftsmanship.
'Nothing special…' she remarked, 'but certainly worth more coin than I have on me right now.'
The man's broken arms had a few bangles of gold and she pried them away from the bloody stumps, smearing the yellow with the free-flowing, brightly, oxidised blood. Moving as quick as she could Raveres removed anything she thought would be valuable and a few guardsmen loudly began to followed suit. Some of them laughed as they went about finishing off the wounded enemies while others began to argue over who deserved what.
Some exchanged their weapons for better ones from their dead comrades and others didn't wait for Sir Jean's signal to return back to the caravan and instead smacked their horses and set off as fast as was possible; not stopping to loot and instead wanting to run back to the safety of the caravan's numbers.
After a short while they had to stop and leave, mostly at Sir Jean's insistence.
…
Raveres rode beside the knight as they left the dead to the carrion and rejoined the trade caravan. Though the 'battle' hadn't even been that long Raveres was impressed by the amount of ground that the slaves, camels, and all, had been able to cover since they had left.
Sadalsuud's fear of the Red-Riders must have been great indeed, for he spared no time in putting to flight; many of the tents and unnecessary camp equipment had been left behind, and many of the fires were left burning; their smoke rising into the sky forlornly.
There wasn't any uniformity as the returning guardsmen approached the caravan but Sir Jean and Raveres didn't spare anytime in galloping towards the fore of the train to report to Sadalsuud. The Arabyan's face lightened and he relaxed upon his camel mount waving a hearty greeting.
Beside the rotund Sadalsuud was a grim-looking, shirtless muscular man who Raveres assumed must have been the head slave-driver of the caravan. In his right hand he bore a cat o' nine-tails. Raveres smirked at the familiar sight of the slave-master's instrument and gave the man a knowing nod of approval.
The man furrowed his brow in silent confusion and shook his head as he turned to shout orders to the men behind him. Having been rebuffed Raveres narrowed her brow and pursed her lips, her tongue rolling around like she had tasted something sour.
On Sadalsuud's left side Jacque was riding his horse, his face awash with relief to see Sir Jean and Raveres' return. As soon as they were in ear-shot the Humans began speaking and Raveres sat back in her saddle as they rejoined the line, she began wiping the blood from her sword on the tail of her blouse which hang out from the bottom edge of her cuirass.
"They fled, did they?" Sadalsuud asked excitedly.
Sir Jean nodded, "Aye, they did."
"I see fewer of my men returned; how many were their number?"
The knight tensed and closed the distance between his horse and Sadalsuud's camel, "I regret that we lost so many, but…"
Having cleaned her blade Raveres stowed the weapon through the metal hoop on the side of her cuirass, she hadn't a scabbard but the improvised clasp would do the job until they got to the city.
Looking behind, Raveres narrowed her eyes over the shimmering sands; small shapes were getting farther away. Those Red-Riders who had survived would surely return and Sadalsuud's men were not at all up to another engagement.
"Sir Jean, we must hasten."
Looking away from Sadalsuud the knight nodded and then spoke with the Arabyan. He in turn called to the slave driver and in a few short moments the whole train gained more speed.
…
The rest of the day passed tensely and when they finally came within sight of the port-city nearly everyone in the caravan breathed a large sigh of relief. Raveres however tensed and breathed hesitantly.
The city before them was ringed by high walls and round towers. The parapets were streaming with brightly coloured banners and men patrolled them closely. Seated near the centre of the city was a palace-keep. Its rounded domes and towers soared high above the city and dominated the landscape.
Water works had irrigated the surrounding valley in which the city was built and so the sight was like a mythical oasis; palm trees grew here and there, marking the edges of fields, small lengths of shrubs and bushes, orchards, and everything else needed to support the population of the city was busy with activity.
Green was everywhere, and the quality of the road increased the closer they got to civilisation. The previous packed dirt and worn-rock was replaced by well-hewn stone, and carefully cut treads for carts.
At first Raveres thought nothing of the city greater than: safety, comforts, and their plan so far. But the closer they got the more people, activity, and life she began to see, and the more nervous she became.
Looking to either side of their slowed caravan she saw peasants driving mules or corralling sheep and goats, working and speaking amongst one another, but then awkwardly they would pause as soon as they saw her. She didn't like it.
Maintaining her pace, she felt like she was part of a strange parade and her nervousness only grew the closer they got to one of the city's gates. The gate kept growing as they came towards it and the sculpture work of the ornate main entrance caught Raveres' attention. Between the two oval shaped towers which constituted the gate-houses, the actual doors and portcullis was crowned with a carved stone lion.
Its teeth were borne and its mouth was open in a frozen roar. The whole sight of the city proved to Raveres just how un-worldly she was. Doing her best to manage her apprehension the Druchii still felt intimidated none-the-less by the sheer size and construction of the city in front of her.
'This is nothing like home…' She thought fearfully. Shaking her head, she scolded herself as she tried to calm, 'By the Dark Mother! Steel yourself Raveres!'
A rider approached them; the peasantry parted at the sound of his gallop. Sir Jean pulled on his reins and bid the elf do the same.
"He's a city representative, he'll speak with Sadalsuud. We are free to ride ahead though."
Raveres nodded but her expression betrayed her.
"Stick with Jacque and I." The knight spoke reassuringly, "We've made many a trip through Al Daouk before, and we know it well enough."
The Druchii nodded before furrowing her brow, "Al Daouk?" she asked.
Sir Jean nodded, "Aye, the city is named after the Emir's family, and the Emir is Sadalsuud's brother as you remember."
Raveres had forgotten, but nodded along and responded quietly,
"Oh, of course."
'Gods below, so that palace is his home?!" she thought, "This place is triple the size of Blacklight Tower!'
Sir Jean interrupted Sadalsuud and his guard's conversation and the noble Arabyan nodded and waved a fair-well. He smiled keenly when Raveres met his gaze and she nodded politely as Sir Jean led the three of them towards the open gates of the busy port-city
The streets were bustling with activity, and Raveres kept her steed as close as permissible to Sir Jean's. The peasantry parted for the knight and she earned a variety of looks; from fearful and confused, to interested and amused.
"We shall ride through the town to our Duke's embassy and there Jacque and I will deposit our cargo and complete our mission…"
Raveres looked to the knight for a brief moment as she tugged on her reins, "Yes?"
"Then we'll… Well, we'll just see how things go from there."
The elf nodded and looked ahead down the busy street. On either side of the three riders Raveres saw peasants going about their lives, urchins begging on corners, slaves carrying loads to and fro. It reminded her of home, but the similarities ended there.
It was warm, and it smelled. There were the 'usual' city smells of dirt, garbage, and filth… But there was something new which overpowered the offal scent. Cooking and spice.
The scent of oriental foods wafted through the streets and alleys as vendors and street-side cooks plied their trade, spice sellers were loudly chanting and showing off their wares, running their hands through bags of product and letting it spill from their fingers sent powerful smells into the air and Raveres' sensitive elven nose was under a total assault of pleasures.
She smelt hints of things which were familiar and immediately took her home, and then in another breath she'd get a whiff of something which was totally alien but utterly enticing, some of the scents were sharp while others were mild; and each made her dry mouth water.
As they trod farther down the road, they passed through the town square and the small city of stalls and merchants -the Al Daouk bazaar- Close to her side she heard the sizzling and chorus of revelry at the cooking of a choice suckling beast.
The sight of cooking meat struck her horribly and her stomach eagerly let out a demand for reprieve as she watched a large rotund female chef begin cut slices of meat from the flank of the beast and served it immediately to customers.
The patrons threw a few coins towards the chef's apprentice and the younger woman caught them and immediately calculated the necessary change.
The speed, the artistic display, the wonderful scene around her was compelling Raveres forwards and she reached to a pouch she'd looted, tied to her belt.
In addition to the gold jewelry, she'd 'liberated' from her dead opponents she'd also collected several purses of coin. The money was quickly burning a hole in her pocket and she wanted nothing more than to spend some.
Thankfully Sir Jean called Raveres' name and shook his head, "No, not now. I swear to you after our mission is completed, I shall escort you through this place. But we cannot stop now my lady."
Raveres looked to her side and saw a few furrowed Arabyan brows and the concerned gazes of some shop keepers and then the cultural divide returned and reminded her; she was not welcome.
"Right… Very well knight, I differ to your…" she paused and regained herself, "To your expertise."
Regretfully she continued alongside the two Bretons, turning and riding down the streets, until finally they reached a building completely unlike any in the whole city. It was made of imported timbers and between the wooden beams holding it up white wattle and daub constituted its second storey while the first floor was reinforced wood and brick. It was a guard's block-house of some kind and posted on either side of its broad doors were two armoured knights.
They were neglecting the visors on their helmets but they were otherwise combat ready, eyeing every passing civilian with disdain. The path of the street's traffic in front of this large building bowed out and around the knights. It appeared that these men commanded terrifying respect among the Arabyan populace.
Sir Jean waved to the dismounted knights and one immediately called into the door's iron-grated peephole. The door unlatched and a mustached man with flowing brown hair quickly exited the building. He smiled at Sir Jean and waved while loudly calling in their tongue as they approached.
Raveres held back a cringe of disgust as she mentally complained, 'Dark Mother, help me… Yet more Bretonnians…'
…
When Mariana returned aboard Annio's ship the captain was passed out in the crow's nest of the aft mast.
Before he fell asleep from a rum-soaked drinking binge he was entertaining himself by firing pistols at flying seagulls and had indicated to his men that none were to disturb him.
Stepping onto the main deck the Estalian witch curled her lip quizzically as she spoke to the first mate, "Where's the captain?"
The massive man was short but broad. His shoulders and neck were thick and his small shirt couldn't be buttoned up properly, and so it hung open, showing off scars, thick chest hair, and a charmed necklace bearing the hammer of Sigmar.
"What's it to you little lady?" he responded coldly.
Pointing behind her to the shouting and noisy brawls in the town's streets she raised her eyebrows and spoke,
"They're tearing each other apart in there!" her voice dropped comically, "More than usual… But I barely escaped with my life! We need to put to sea now."
The mate raised an eyebrow and chuckled before looking to a few of the men who remained aboard the vessel as the skeleton crew.
"Oh? That's so?"
Mariana furrowed her brow and took his patronising tone in stride.
"I have a feeling that the tides are to change and if we want to beat the rush out of port, we ought to make ready now."
The mate stopped chuckling and became somewhat serious.
"How do you know this?"
Mariana thought very carefully about how to proceed, she didn't want to be branded a witch, nor was she sure that Slaanesh's favour was going to arrive in the form of waters or winds changing… but she had to roll with it now.
"A few of those I had spoken with revealed to me as much."
The mate leaned his head back incredulously.
Mariana took a step forwards and lowered her voice, "I swear it… Let me speak with the captain."
He shook his head, but his tone and body language suggested that he wasn't sure.
"The captain's not about to change anything or plot a course today milady, just… Sit yourself in the great-cabin and wait."
He nodded and then turned away from Mariana while walking towards the quarter-deck. She huffed and stomped loudly towards the narrow stairs to the lower deck.
"Prince's blood!" she whispered in a curse under her breath. "This better all work, I swear I'm sick of biding my time…"
Once the woman passenger was out of sight the first mate began the climb to the aft crow's nest.
"Captain?" he called hesitantly.
Dazed Annio stirred and took up one of his several pistols, responding to the question with a shot into the air.
"Aye?!" he then loudly responded.
The first mate exclaimed in surprise, "Gods! What in the blue hell Annio?"
The Estalian captain looked at the former imperial and furrowed his brow in confusion, "What? I was merely aiming for a 'gull. Damnable rats of the sky I tell you…"
The mate adjusted his grip on the mast's railings and nodded sarcastically, "Right… Sir, about our course…"
The captain perked up and nodded, "oh yes?"
"Well, it's just, the men… and myself included… We were hoping to put to sea soon and reach Estalia within the week."
The captain smiled and dropped his empty pistol before reaching for a bottle.
"Aye… I bet that little bitch's been in your ears no doubt." He slurred.
The mate furrowed his brow in confusion, "Sir?"
The captain looked at the empty bottle disappointedly and threw it over the side of the crow's nest into the sea. He leaned closer to his mate and whispered, "I have a bad air about that one…"
The mate nodded.
"You see…" the captain rose somewhat to look over the edge of the wooden railing for any sight of the dark dress of Mariana.
"Her story doesn't seem to add up… and I've been thinking on it this whole time…"
The mate furrowed his brow as his captain seemed to sober up and become deathly serious.
"There's something off about my fellow Estalian…"
Stumbling to his feet the captain hung onto some of the stowed rigging for support and nodded furiously, "She's not right… I mean. A prisoner of the Druchii? For as long as she said she was?"
He shook his head, "Nah, I don't buy it anymore."
He took a deep breath and gazed over the horizon before violently turning back towards the mate.
"That! And her insistence to leave? To go to Estalia, but not naming a port by…-by name?" he grunted and cleared his throat.
"Something strange at work let me tell you… And I've noticed a few things too."
The mate adjusted his grip again and drew a deep breath of his own.
"What has Farenso been doing with her? Or Ba'duli, or or… gah" the captain waved in frustration.
"She's plying something on the weaker, greener members of my crew."
He nodded and stretched his arms, "Something's not right…"
The mate lowered his voice, "What if we left her ashore and put to sea?"
The captain looked towards the mate and narrowed his eyes.
"Perhaps…"
He coughed again and nodded, "Perhaps."
As he remembered something else the captain had a secret smile to himself.
"You know that elf? The woman one… I had her thrown into the sea?"
The mate furrowed his brow and thought for a moment.
"Uh…"
The captain smiled and looked away from his fellow sailor.
"Raveres de Naguii…"
The mate shook his head, "We fought many elves that day… I dare say I can't remember even one of them."
The captain ignored the comment and continued, "You know, I regret throwing her to the waters… she was a beauty to be sure…"
The mate rolled his eyes and nodded, "Aye most women are… But sir what are we to do about the-"
Before he could finish the captain loudly and enthusiastically interrupted.
"We shall set a course!"
The mate's eyes widened, "Wait… what?!"
The captain smiled and scratched his bearded chin, "Aye! Summon the men, I've got a plan!"
"Sir?" The mate cried, confused.
…
Elianna's eyes were wide and she was struggling to remain calm as she stood behind her mistress Lady Naguii.
The two women were wearing thick black cloaks and standing at the edge of a large stone chamber deep within the temple of Khaine in Blacklight Tower. In front of them the bride-priestesses -the Death Hags- were performing a dark rite, at both Lady Naguii's insistence and patronage.
She'd paid the necessary temple fee and bought several captives from the slave market in nearby Karond Kar. At Elianna's suggestion Lady Naguii ensured to specify 'Arabyans' in her order. She was apprehensive as to whether or not the Human clutch she'd purchased were in fact Arabyans to begin with as neither she nor Elianna had ever seen one in the flesh.
The captain of the Naguii household guard personally delivered Lady Naguii's correspondence to her slaver contact in Karond Kar and when the captain finally arrived back with the ten Arabyan men, he avowed that they were the quarry she sought. He boasted that he had threatened the slave-trader with castration until the man swore that the Humans were the ones Lady Naguii desired.
In the time since her bath the more Lady Naguii thought about Elianna's words the more she thought about the potential dangers that Raveres may be facing. From these the desire to ensure a proper offering grew. She had originally wanted to buy twenty fighting-fit and young Arabyan men, but Elianna suggested fewer would still ensure the desired effect.
Considering the total cost of the odd request Lady Naguii eventually agreed. The slaves were rowdy still, yet it didn't take long before Lady Naguii's men broke the last of their will. Now they meekly followed the directions of the Naguii Captain as he followed behind the Lady and her maid-slave to the great doors of the temple.
They greeted the few Death Hags standing outside the stone building awaiting them and then the small procession was led into the sordid and dark depths of the black stone building. Lady Naguii and Elianna were provided with simple black cloaks with which to cover themselves while they watched the private ceremony.
The practised and veteran Death Hags then took over the corralling and directing of the slaves from the Naguii men and they were ordered to remain outside the holy precinct of the dark temple. As Lady Naguii and Elianna followed their hosts into the black halls they were led along towards a great vaulted chamber.
"My lady…" the principal Death Hag spoke, "I bid you please remain silent while we go at our work."
Lady Naguii nodded once and the Hag continued, "When I raise my hands like this you may step forwards towards the dais and we will mark you with Khaine's sigil."
Lady Naguii nodded again before stepping towards a spot out of the way of the working Brides.
With an evil toothy smile, the Death Hag bowed her head lowly and turned from the noble to regard her fresh prey. Elianna's heartbeat was so loud it thundered in her skull; she was terrified. The air was choked with smoke and a rotten coppery taste. The ground was a dark stone, but its surface was uneven and pockmarked with strange abrasions.
Earlier Elianna had stolen a glance downwards as they passed a brazier and saw that the floor was a putrid carmine colour, and that the 'pockmarks' and uneven aspects of the stone was really years' worth and layers upon layers of gore and dried blood. Small pieces of ivory glittered up at her either through cracks in the stone or through the layers of dried, flakey, blood.
Chips of bone… fragments of skull… pieces of broken teeth…
From this realisation Elianna became so terrified she was clinging to her mistress, never more afraid for her life than in this moment. Mentally she swore she'd never say or do anything that would lead her to being brought to this insidious abattoir again.
The first offerings had been bound together and seated on the raised altar in the centre of the chamber. The chanting then started and then the slaves began wailing. Like chattel which had seen the knife coming they knew what was going to happen, and where they were.
The Death Hags began howling as they entered into their dances and their collective trance. The smoke of incense and burned offerings, paid for by Lady Naguii, permeated the air…
The music of the drums added to the ambiance and Elianna felt her fingers grow cold and her body eerily still. Her elvish senses told her two things: that both primordial evil and black magic were in the air. Looking beside her Elianna saw that her mistress was unfazed and it made her even more uneasy.
The stern and sharp features of the midnight-haired Druchii were without any adornments; before they set out that morning Lady Naguii had Elianna remove all her jewelry. In addition, she untied her long hair so that it fell down her shoulders almost to her calves; if she was to be present, she had to bear herself as simply as possible before the holy site.
When the ceremony began in the temple chambers the Brides chanted and danced intricately, weaving their blades through the air and each other's movements. The five slaves which were bound together in the center of the room sat entranced, their previous fearful cries and protestations having numbed to an eerie calm.
The Death Hags were smiling at their prey and had been weaving a foul magic over their weakened minds. They weren't gagged, they needn't be; their placation had been assured by the spell which was marked upon them as soon as they were forced upon the dais. The ritual drums began quickening in their beat and then the five Death Hags which had been circling and erotically dancing with each other set towards the centre of the room with their knives held high.
At first the slaves appeared smiling as the five others watched on in horror stifling their own screams and weakly trying against their bonds. Then the noise of the music and the chanting stopped. And the spell was broken… And the screaming began.
The five slaves on the dais immediately realised what was to come and Elianna shook violently as she looked away and covered her mouth. Lady Naguii stood silently, her face expressionless and stony as she watched the ritual. The other slaves began a chorus of suffering and screaming, fighting harder than ever before to try and escape.
But their captors smiled, this was nothing they hadn't seen before; and none were going to miss their turn with the knife. Elianna faltered in her standing and she did something which she never thought she'd do. She stepped forwards and hid her face in the back of her mistress' cloak.
More surprising was that Lady Naguii said nothing, and did nothing except for moving her left hand to Elianna's side. The small motion not only condoned the Asur's action, but encouraged her to remain pressed against her owner's back.
Elianna's fear was so maddeningly great that she mentally regressed to that of a child. In a perverse way, though she knew she was a slave, she had always subconsciously thought of Lady Naguii as not only her complete master, but also as her mother.
And as the blood-curdling screaming grew ever louder Elianna bit her tongue to continue to remain silent, burying her face into Lady Naguii's back and continuing to shake in total, abject fear.
The Death Hags cackled and incanted words and phrases of the dark speech as they gored and brutally eviscerated the offerings. The slaughter continued, and with every blow struck a man screamed and gurgled noises which caused the slave against the Druchii noble's back to shudder and quietly whimper in fear.
The chorus of screaming Humans began getting weaker as each member was finished off, their dying breaths climbing to awful crescendos before finally becoming silent. Then the next slaves were brought forwards and the Death Hags set upon them in much the same fashion as the first five. The cutting and the slashing, the loud wet striking of metal through flesh, it made Elianna cry as she cowered behind her mistress.
Then the room grew quiet except for the crackling of the braziers and the elated and excited breathing of the Death Hags. The screaming in the halls had been so loud that for a few seconds after it stopped Elianna imagined she could still hear it as it echoed through the very stone of the chambers. Then the low silence was broken by the sound of motion; the lead Hag looked to Lady Naguii and waved the signal.
Without hesitation Elianna's owner stepped forwards. The Asur nervously clutched her mistress' cloak but her grip was so light and meek that the material easily slipped from her fingers the farther that Lady Naguii walked.
Eventually the Asur was forced to open her eyes when her mistress passed out of her reach and when she witnessed the full sight before her Elianna felt heart stop. Immediately the Asur slave collapsed backwards, unconscious, from fright.
The Death Hags each were naked, having shed their thin clothes over the course of the ritual, but by now they had become painted in their victim's blood. Sigils and symbols had been lovingly smeared by each sister upon one another and the light of the braziers reflected off their blood-drenched blades and smeared bodies.
Lady Naguii heard Elianna stumble and fall behind her, the Asur's body and head loudly cracked against the hard and blood-slick floor, but she remained silent and devoid of reaction. She had only done such a ritual once before, and she knew that she must remain as still as if she were facing her Drachau, or the even the Witch King himself.
For she was about to beseech an even greater power still: The Lord god, Khaine.
Standing before the small raised step of the chamber's dais Lady Naguii halted and bowed her head in respect. The lead Death Hag raised her blade and pointed it accusatorily at her,
"Why hath you dared to step before Khaine's chosen brides?"
Lady Naguii remained silent and averted her eyes, staring towards the floor at the flowing pond of blood which was quickly pouring from the dais. The Death Hags cackled amongst one another.
"Thou art a fool! A miniscule servant before the dread majesty of our lord."
The noble finally looked up and her eyes met with the principal Death Hag's.
"Sisters in murder… Bare her boldly!"
Driving her blade into a twitching body amidst the pile in front of her the Death Hag spat and hissed loudly as she took a deep breath.
"Show her skin so that we may flay her resolve and make incision for her!"
On either side of Lady Naguii two Death Hags approached her. With a growl and a loud scream, the lead Hag issued an order to the noble, "On your knees!"
Silently Lady Naguii lowered herself, feeling the warm blood soak her skin along her legs through her clothes. The Hags on her sides brought forward their knives and took hold of her clothing. Cutting through the material and ripping away her cloak and the top of her plain dress Lady Naguii was eventually made naked above her waist.
Her flesh rippled to the air and her skin became covered in goosebumps, her nipples hardened, and her cheeks burned with a strange embarrassment to be seen in such a state by so many unfamiliar eyes. But she remained quiet, her breathing remained calm, and she kept her head and sight level.
Stepping over the mound of bodies the principal Death Hag walked towards Lady Naguii and stopped before her. Without a word two Hags took hold of her arms and held them outstretched. A third came from behind and pulled Lady Naguii's head backwards until she was staring at the ceiling, her neck exposed and vulnerable.
"Are you a faithful servant to our dark lord?"
The principal Hag held her blade high above Lady Naguii's chest; it was aimed for her breast and heart.
The Hag bellowed loudly and deeply, "Answer him!"
Without hesitation and full with resolve Lady Naguii spoke confidently; "I am!"
"So, by what dare impudence has driven you to seek our audience?"
With a snarl Lady Naguii screamed her response, her words echoing into the chamber.
"I bring the gifts of blood, and ask only what every Druchii is ought!"
The Hag laughed loudly, "You are 'ought' nothing! You are naught to enjoy even the ravenous feasting of the maggots upon your eyes! What do you dare to demand of the dark lord?!"
With venom in her tongue Lady Naguii spat her rehearsed prayer.
"Vengeance! An endless bath of blood! Glory and victory!"
The Hag moved her blade down to her side and lowered herself to Lady Naguii's level.
"And what was this? What were these for?"
The hag pointed behind her at the bodies and Lady Naguii's head was let loose to move again. She looked over the mangled and brutally slaughtered men and nodded.
"These are kinsmen of my beloved's foes… I seek a curse upon the people who would dare to seek harm upon her and my house."
The Hag nodded and stood back up. Waving two additional Hags forwards she then pointed at the men and they set to dipping their swords into the Human blood. Then they moved towards Lady Naguii and began drawing the blood coated tips of their weapons against her chest and skin.
Painting the same sigils and symbols which adorned their own flesh they purposefully pressed the sharp tips of their steel hard enough to draw her Druchii blood. The principal Hag closed her eyes and was uttering an indiscernible chant in a whisper as she began shaking and pacing the whole dais in a circle. The small cuts in her skin began to burn and Lady Naguii felt the sharp nails of the Hags holding her arms begin to dig into her flesh.
Their grip continued to deepen and she gritted her teeth as the burning in her flesh began to climb in intensity. Their long, jagged, and gruesome nails began to break through her skin and Lady Naguii snarled under her imprisonment. The principal Hag threw her head back and extended her arms as euphoria and a possessive trance overtook her.
"Open your mouth and present thy lying tongue…"
Dropping her blade, the principal hag held out her open palm. Lady Naguii seethed and cringed at the fire which was growing in her flesh and the razor-sharp nails which had cut into her skin but she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue wordlessly, as she was bid.
An attendant Hag presented a thin needle like weapon to the lead bride and as soon as she felt the steel in her hand she stepped forwards.
The tip of the needle-like blade was dripping with a purple liquid and the lead Hag quickly extended her arm and brought it towards Lady Naguii's exposed and wiggling tongue. Expecting it to be driven through her Lady Naguii mentally prepared for the piercing; but just as it approached the Hag stopped and simply tapped the dripping metal to her tongue.
As soon as it made contact there was a second of reprieve where Lady Naguii felt nothing. Then the Hags which were holding her let go and stepped away from her, their hands having left bruises and several deep divots in her pale skin. Then the revulsion came.
Bile rose from her stomach and without control Lady Naguii vomited it forwards; it was black and odorless and the burning in her skin returned a thousand-fold. The Hags nervously looked at one another and the principal Hag stepped back from Lady Naguii cackling and throwing her arms up excitedly.
"Yes!" she shouted.
Tears involuntarily streamed down Lady Naguii's face as blood began to flow from her nose. Black bile clung to her chin and her skin felt like it was loosening from her bones as she swayed from a sudden and encompassing malaise.
"Yes!" the Hag screamed again. Her eyes were wide and she had taken up her blade once more, ritualistically cutting her palm as she screamed in delight.
Blood began to ooze from Lady Naguii's pores and her eyes thundered as her body became wracked with unimaginable pain. She looked at her hands in horror as no sound escaped from her throat. Blood vessels burst under her skin and began flowing freely to the surface and she regarded her chest in complete terror; her nipples had become engorged and blood dripped freely from them in a sordid perversion of her sex.
Her eyes looked to the principal Hag and wordlessly the Hag understood that an explanation was due.
"Our lord…" she shook madly with excitement, "You have been blessed!"
Lady Naguii began to see swirling smoke around the floor of the chamber as her body continued to burn internally. Then a voice came from another plane and boomed into her mind, shattering any sense of thought as it invaded every aspect of her being.
It was like metal and blackness at once given sound. At the first syllable of the voice blood dribbled from Lady Naguii's ears and nose eventually became a free-flowing torrent as the world around her changed.
Through the excruciating pain questions rolled around her head innocently. And the voice chuckled hollowly.
"No little Druchii… I am not Khaine himself. Think of me as his… messenger. Were the dark lord to speak to you this way… well."
The voice chuckled again, "I dare say you wouldn't handle it as well as this."
The pain lessened and Lady Naguii began to see a vision around her; the chamber disappeared and instead she saw rolling sands as far as the world extended. Then she saw a figure, clad head to toe in black Druchii armour. Their face was obstructed by a full visor helm. For arms they bore a simple black and gold sword.
The Druchii was in mid combat with invisible foes; frozen with their weapon held aloft and body contorted in mid-motion.
"You have many questions and many concerns. I know them now." The voice paused and it's tone rose in disappointment, "They are so trivial… So much so that I would never have appeared for this. But…"
The vision changed and Lady Naguii immediately saw a Druchii she recognised as Raveres. Her daughter was in some kind of underground sandstone chamber, she was wearing the same armour as the figure before, though this time she was helm-less and her face was marred with blood and dirt.
In the vision she knew that the armour had become dented and damaged from blades and the teeth of beasts. It appeared almost ruined, yet still functional.
"There is one which I felt was above the others…" The voice chuckled again, "Though the revelation of which may just drive you mad. But I avow it has given me nothing but entertainment."
The vision showed great red eyes appear ahead of Raveres. They glowed like two massive flames but remained wreathed in darkness.
"She lives, oh yes."
A relief flooded the back of her mind, and despite everything else Lady Naguii felt a joyous flash of pleasure.
"And she has been chosen, indeed she has been claimed… A daughter of yours no more, she is ours…"
Lady Naguii twitched and gargled her words amidst blood and bile which flowed past her teeth and lips and struggled to speak; "S-she's, a champion of K-Khaine?"
"No, no… Nothing so grand. Merely…"
The voice stopped and muttered incomprehensible speech to itself, "A pet."
Lady Naguii's vision began to fade and her body began to numb.
"Yes. Fear naught. A pet she now is, and a pet she shall be. Ours."
Lady Naguii felt her eyes roll back into her head as all sense of time, physicality, and space evapourated.
"Oh, and I'll have you know; the offering's howling was particularly satisfying."
The voice began a deep cackle which began to fade along with Lady Naguii's consciousness. The ritual was a far greater success than the noble lady had bargained for.
…