Lord of the Mountain Roads
Chapter VII: Return
A couple of days, a couple of nights had passed without them encountering any of the barbarians or undead. Only the beasts of the Blackspines had crossed their ways; some ferocious enough to hide from, some a welcome addition to their diet. Ancient, frozen snow and old ice have given way to a powdery, white cover upon rock, brought down during the last snowstorm, as they descended on the other side oft he pass. The high, dark trees of the woodmill land were visible beneath, and Setharai felt herself breathe more freely, her sight now not clouded by the stone and mist of the higher peaks anymore.
They stopped on a ledge, from which a gentle slope lead towards the forest and farmland that fed the whole of Naggoroth.
„I think you can find your way alone from here." The Shade made a gesture towards the seemingly miniature roofs and towers of Clar Karond in the distance. It was time, he thought, to end this agreement that lacked any purpose for him. He had yearned for a Druchii voice, but now he was almost tired oft he constant company; he would return to his duty, guarding the graves of his clan, and soon the Dark Rider would disappear from his memory. At least he hoped so. She was a nuisance; she didn't know enough of the dangers oft he mountains, and she didn't care enough to learn. He told himself that he was annoyed by her presence, and when she looked at him, his grey eyes were cold and hard like the centuries-old ice of the Blackspines.
„Ruathac…" She began, but cut off by his gaze, her words melted on her tongue. She turned her face away, shrugged, and began to descend the slope towards the valley. „Thank you. I will not forget." These last words she threw over her shoulder, careless despite the strange tension that pulled on the muscles of her back, froze her knees and pulled her back towards the lonely figure standing on the ledge. Emotion was not something she welcomed. It was just the loss of Umdar, her loyal steed, that moved her enough to seek a companion in someone as cold-hearted, bleak and plain as the mountains. Ruathac had been useful for her travel through the mountains, and she knew she was in his debt. Once she had found another horse and put aside enough gold, she would come back and repay him, somehow.
...
The Shade crouched down, now hidden from view between rocks on the ledge, and took out his pipe. Exhaling smoke, he watched it dissolve into nothing but tiniest drops of the water he breathed out and invisible bits of burned dust in the cold air. Alone again. It was a calm yet bitter feeling, but one well-known, one that Ruathac could handle.
After Setharai had disappeared among the trees beneath, he stood up. It was getting dark; he should be going. They had been incredibly lucky in the last days and nights, but Ruathac was not the one to trust luck too much. He didn't tell Setharai that he had noticed signs oft he presence of humans here – tracks, half hidden by fresh snow, waste left between rocks, the remnants of a makeshift barbarian tribes were bad at nightsight, and he would use the darkness as his ally.
Ruathac did not come far.
From nowhere, a greenish glow suddenly broke from the snow under his feet, and instinctively, he jumped away, just before the rock parted under him, a hungry mouth adorned with icicle fangs. Had he not thrown himself aside, he would have been swallowed by the mountain itself, he thought, feeling cold sweat form on his brow. This was nothing he had seen before; there was no earthquake, not even a visible magical cause for this. For a moment, Ruathac thought about the legends of ancient giant wormthings that had created the tunnels under Naggaroth aeons ago.
From the open wound in the stone, a shadow emerged, its many deformed limbs scratching the surface of the rock as it pulled itself free from its subterraneous prison. The front limbs were formed into pointed, metallic appendages that resembled mining tools, and the remaining skin and chitinous armor upon them were torn and leaking dark blood onto the snow.
Ruathac scrambled onto his legs, almost losing his balance, horrified by the fact that the demonic creature that he thought they had escaped had followed them all along, digging itself through the stone oft he Blackspines.
The mass of mutated bodies that formed the upper torso moved, screeching and growling sounds emerging from its countless mouths and snouts, while the lower body continued to ascend from the earth, the originally arachnoid abdomen not ending in the webbing gland like before, but resembling a bloated tube that didn't seem to have an end. Something moved underneath the transparent, greenishly pale skin, as if the creature was preparing to give birth to something, maybe even more horrible.
A repulsive face formed itself on the crane-like neck, in the thin tentacles and maggots that the thing had for head. „You have angered me." Its many voices spoke. Around it, living corpses and skeletons began crawling out of the tunnel the demon had created. „You have angered me. But you have also given me something, a wonderful gift. I will reward you for your help."
Ruathac looked up at the towering monster. What did it mean with „help"? His confusion lasted only a couple of seconds before it dawned on him. The magical weapon that had pierced the flesh of the thing and that he had pulled free to cut the webs that had bound Setharai was gone. The wound it had left was now covered with scabbed black flesh. The luminiscent fungus that had covered parts of the body has dissappeared; instead, glowing paths of greenish gold snaked down from the healed wound, leading towards the enormous tube. The sorcery that was contained in the enchanted weapon had seemingly reduced the demon's abilities. Now that the sword that had been a thorn in its flesh was gone, the creature was in full control of its powers.
The Shade stepped back, his hand gripping the hilt of the enchanted sword. Maybe, if he could strike the beast with it again, embedding it in its flesh... If the demon was not in possesion of his full power, Ruathac might have a chance... At least a chance to escape.
Suddenly, a ripple went through the pale, endless lower body of the demonic creature. The almost transparent skin burst open, and tangled spidery limbs, wet with dark blood and emanating a weak green glow, fought their way free, a smaller version of the monster rolling onto the dirtied snow.
As the undead and the newly born demon spawn charged, the Shade leapt up and ran - not away but towards the bigger demon.
He hoped he could land a hit before the thing killed him.
...
„What do you mean, you were not able to deliver the message?" The noble looked at Setharai, appalled. „It was of high significance to our House! The raiding season has begun already, and his Lordship Arhigram is still not back from the hunt!"
The Dark Rider showed no reaction except for her words. „His Lordship is most probably dead. I demand no payment." She turned around, taking a few steps towards the double doors of the manor.
„Wait!" The Druchii noble's voice rose up an octave. „Insolent commoner, you will not walk out on me without at least giving me detailed information!"
Setharai sighed. She was tired – having just returned to her quarters after her descent from the mountain, she had only taken the time to take a quick bath and put on clean clothes before coming her for the report. „The detailed information is more suited fort he ears of the Corsair Lords of the City, dread one." This was a terrible act of insolence, calling the noble with the simple title of respect without adding „Lord", but the behaviour of this elf got on Setharais nerves. How different the people here were to the Shade with whom she had spent the last couple of days. The few hours since her return she couldn't help but wonder if the decadent, dramatic appearance of the inhabitants of Clar Karond - their blade-adorned armor and the silk and human skin garbs, embroidered with proud symbols, their ritualized speech, the mimicry of bloodthirst and warrior's honor, their pompous buildings – fit the nature oft he Druchii. Compared to the silent, simple and deadly Ruathac, the Druchii of the City appeared to Setharai as decadent weaklings.
The noble snarled, giving his guards directions to arrest the Dark Rider, and the two elven males in chainmail and coats decorated with the crest of the house crossed their spears in front of her.
Not even stopping in her tracks, Setharai ducked under their weapons, and made a run for the door.
Her feet touched the cobblestone of the street just in the moment when she finished her thought of hunting down that arrogant noble one day, and giving his head as a gift to Anath Raema. One day. Not now.
First, she had to inform the City Lords of the Chaos forces that were gathering in the Blackspines.
...
So, after a year or so, I finally managed an update - a rather short chapter, I have to practice writing again before I can write down more. Hope you enjoy!