Author's Note: Winces…. Yeah, I know, it's been a long, long, long… LONG AS HELL time, and I'm sorry, but you know how it is. School, life, life, school…. School… anyways, here is the second re-written chapter, and the third should be up soon, followed by the fourth. To my reviewers, thanks so much! To new readers, well, hope you enjoy!
Kaia Moonchild
Road to Neverwinter…
Vanwa proved to be a stallion among stallions, Majandra discovered as she swung in and out of consciousness during the long, wet ride from the ruins of the Lion's Head to Neverwinter.
"Stay strong for me, Vanwa," She murmured as the black continued his steady pace towards the distant city lights, each jarring step sending bolts of pain through her body. "We're nearly there, my friend. Nearly there…" her words trailed off as she swayed forward in a swoon, head spinning from blood loss. In the hours since leaving the wreckage of the inn, the knife wound had sealed over, but threatened to reopen with every second, or so the trickle of warmth down her side told her. Any lesser creature would have perished under the strain of remaining on a horse during a hurricane, but not many beings had the strength or determination of the Fey'ri.
Nine thousand ninety heads on dead corpses, Nine thousand ninety heads! Rekkei sang insanely in the back of her head, projecting images of the horrifying Blood Wars into Majandra's consciousness. The off tune, off color words caused bile to rise up in her throat. I cut one off, play a round of golf, Nine thousand eighty-nine heads on dead corpses!
"Shut up, Rekkei!" Majandra squeezed her head between her hands, trying desperately to shut out things she didn't want to remember. It had only been a few weeks since she'd escaped her cruel mistress in Sigil, but that wasn't even a hundredth of the time needed to comes to terms with the centuries of insanity spent serving in the Blood Wars. "Just, leave me alone!" Vanwa's ears pricked at the sound of her voice, and he whickered gently, almost as though he were trying to soothe his rider.
Don't you like my song? Rekkei replied in a whiny voice that sent shards of pain into Majandra's brain. I'm boooored! Why can't we kill something? Come on, Maggie, you know you want to!
"I'm not like you!" Majandra snarled, baring her fangs and unsheathing the claws on her hands. "I don't need to kill to be complete! I don't have to do it anymore, never again, now that we've left Sigil, and you'll just have to get used to it!" Rekkei seethed in the back of her head, but at least she was relatively quiet. Majandra sighed and sat up. There, rising above the trees in the distance, lay the great city of Neverwinter.
"I'm coming," She whispered as her eyes drank in the grand buildings and towers she could make out from where she was. She estimated that it would be at least another two or three hours before she arrived at the city gates, if Vanwa stayed at his current pace, and then who knows how long until she found the thing that had been calling out to her even from the planes above. "Just wait for me," she could feel the connection getting stronger, the bond that whispered of a balm to her shattered mind and soul. "I'm coming."
Suddenly, Vanwa began snorting irritably, flinging his head from side to side and struggling against her loose grip on the reins. "Whoa, boy," Majandra struggled to get him under control, but it was as though he were being goaded by some unseen force, or maybe- Without warning, a broad headed hunting arrow thudded into her wounded side, eliciting a scream of agony at the pain of her insides being torn apart.
"There she is! That's the monster!" Majandra struggled to remain conscious as hunting horns began blaring from behind her and human voices called out her position. "Take her down! She's the one that destroyed the inn and stole Shadowmere!"
A hail of arrows began raining down upon Majandra and Vanwa, startling the horse out of his agitation and into a gallop towards the distant city. Behind them, the hunters booted their own mounts into a canter, and the chase was on.
Bent as low as possible over Vanwa's neck, Majandra hung on for her very life as the powerful horse leapt ditches and forded streams, each step making her head spin in anguish. Finally, to keep the shaft from moving and harming her any more, Majandra grasped the arrow in one hand and squeezed as hard as she could, weathering the bone shattering pain as only a veteran of war can. The bolt snapped, but the arrowhead inside twisted with the motion, throwing her once more into unconsciousness.
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It's too quite… Rodger Caim, huntsmen, thought as he guided his mount through the tall grasses and trees with a sure hand, sharp eyes scanning the ground for signs of the monster's passage. He and the men of the nearby farm had been tracking the murderous demon ever since Yoren, one of his mates from the neighboring village, stumbled into town drenched in blood, most of it not his own. The call for arms had been raised, and he, along with a score of other able bodied men had ridden into the woods in search of what Yoren could only describe as a child of the Hells.
Moonlight drifted through the branches of the forest, giving the illusion of a leisurely night ride. Suddenly, the calm was broken as a hunting horn rang out from up ahead, startling Rodger's horse as the forest came alive with frightened animals.
"They've found her!" A fellow huntsmen rode by him, bow unlimbered as he spurred his horse to the chance of a kill ahead. "Come on, man!"
Rodger kicked his horse into a canter and followed, an eager grin stretched upon his own face at the thought of bagging the demon and returning home a hero. He quickly outstripped the other riders and their plains ponies, coming close enough to their quarry that he could see the dark liquid painting the coat of her mount the color of violent death as she passed through beams of moon and starlight.
He was nearly upon her, the group at his heels, when the earth seemingly erupted at their feet, throwing screaming horses and men into the air as monsters clambered from the depths of hell.
"For shame, human," Rodger felt his pants dampen as he was picked up by the leg and hung upside down in the air as though he weighed no more than a child, only to meet a pair of glowing, crimson eyes. "Didn't the bitch that whelped you ever teach you that stalking a woman is wrong?"
Rodger opened his mouth to reply, but his words became a garbled mess of blood and guts as he felt a hand tear through his insides. All around him, he could hear the remnants of the valorous hunting party dying at the hands of hell's hounds themselves, limbs hitting the loamy ground with muted thuds.
"D-demon…" the spark of life in Rodger's eyes faded, and his body was tossed unceremoniously aside.
"They're all dead, Chorwal." A huge, ugly slaad stomped up to the tiefling and dropped a score of heads at his hooved feat. "Any more orders?"
"No," the half-demon shook out his ivory white hair and wiped his hands on his crimson pants. "Our job here is complete. Majandra should arrive in Neverwinter as planned, and our employer should be able to take things from there."
Chorwal watched as his death squad of grey slaadi reentered the portal they had emerged from, and then moved to follow them. You may have escaped me the first time, Majandra. He thought as he felt the tendrils of magic propel him through the planes and towards his home and headquarters, Sigil. But you should have known better. No one escapes Mistress Indara's wrath, and no one evades my grasp for long. Take what time you have and enjoy it, but know you will be mine once again!
The portal shut with a crack of a filled vacuum, and the forest returned to its previous state. Blood dripped quietly in the moonlight, and animals returned to their business of feeding. The forest was a constant, and not even the presence of human corpses could disrupt that for long.
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"Do you see her?" Metal and leather creaked as the lookouts, twin brothers shifted on the high walls of Neverwinter, clutching their cloaks to their bodies as they were buffeted by the cutting winds.
"What do you expect? No." The first brother shrugged at the harsh tone and marched to the next torch over. He was used to being the "stupid one" of the two, but tonight all of that would change. Something moved at the edge of the woods, and he leaned closer to the edge, eyes squinting against the glare of the torchlight and moonlight shining on the snowy field that ended at the walls.
"You see that?" he called out to his brother. "Out there, heading towards the Dog Gate!"
"I see it, damn you. Move your ass. We have to get down there to meet her before anyone else sees her." The two had been given explicit orders to take the package inside as soon as it arrived, and to deliver her to their employer's manse in the Black Lake District.
The brothers hastened down the slippery stairs and to the mostly unused Dog Gate on the western wall of the city. Muscles straining, they pulled the rusty gate open just as a black stallion slid to a stop in front of it, withers covered in steaming sweat. Steam billowed from the magnificent horse's nose as he fought to breathe and cool himself down, dancing slightly to keep his unconscious passenger on his back.
It took a few minutes for the brothers to finally calm the stallion and bring him within the walls, and only once the door was closed could they see to the woman draped across the horse's back.
"Bane's blood, a demon!" the first brother cursed when they had her on the ground, horns gleaming in the torchlight.
"Indeed." The twins jumped as footsteps heralded the arrival of their employer. "I trust she's still alive?" the man spoke with the haughtiness of the aristocracy, voice matching his finely tailored clothing and warm fur cloak.
"She's wounded, sir," the "stupid one" replied, "Arrow wound to the side, and it's a heavy bleeder."
The employer snorted irritably, "Fine. Eddard, you know what to do. Wrap up here and deliver her to my mansion posthaste. The priest will be there shortly, and I don't want to keep him waiting."
"Aye, sir." Eddard drew his sword and whirled on his brother, sinking the steel deep into his gut.
"Wha-what the hell? E-Eddard!" His brother choked as blood rushed to his lungs, trickling down the sides of his mouth.
"How does it feel, Ned?" Eddard twisted the blade roughly and grinned with glee as the light in his brother's eyes faded. "Who's the stupid one now!" Silence was his only reply. Chuckling madly to himself, the former twin tied the stallion to a small cart lying nearby and then loaded the woman into it. He left the Dog Gate as he'd found it, but for the bloody ruin that was once his brother lying in the center of the courtyard. But honestly. What was one more body in a city where plague killed hundreds every day?
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"Duck!" Majandra ducked as ordered, eating dirt as the drill sergeant planted a boot in her back. "Faster! Do you want to get your fucking head taken off by a devil? Get up and do it again!"
Majandra scrambled to her feet as ordered, bruised and beaten body protesting the motion as she raised her sword back into guard position. It's just a dream. She told herself as the great sword wavered before her eyes. Just a dream. I escaped from here, so it's just a dream.
"Duck!" she threw herself down, choking on a groan as she felt a whip lash her back. Just a dream! Wake up, damn you! "Not good enough, my pretty little spawnling. What would Mistress Indara say if she were to see what a disappointment you are?" Tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks, but she forced herself back to her feet. This was the Abyss. Her home, if she really wanted to call the chaotic mess of blood and demons a home.
"She would beat me even worse than you, Chorwal." Majandra replied bitterly, eyes blazing as she lifted the heavy sword once again and settled in a guard position. "Now come. Enough of this farce!" Chorwal's eyes shone in reply, and the air was soon filled with the shriek of steel on steel.
Majandra gave it her all, but she knew where the reoccurring dream would end. It was the same one she'd had ever since Mistress Indara had kidnapped her from her home on the Prime Material Plane, stealing her from her father's dead arms as her hounds destroyed the tiny village that had been their home. She'd been given to Chorwal upon her arrival, for training at first, but that proved to be just another lie in the multitude her Mistress had told her.
A helpless cry escaped her lips as she was disarmed and thrown roughly to the ground, Chorwal's form casting a shadow as he loomed over her. Wake up! Please, dear gods, wake up!
"I'm going to make you mine…" he hissed as he slowly lowered himself on top of her, crimson meeting crimson in a hungry glare.
"No!" Majandra struggled, but it was to no avail. "NO!"
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"No!" Majandra woke with tears of frustration streaking her cheeks, eyes blazing in anger as Rekkei giggled in the back of her head. "Shut up, Rekkei." She muttered, calming herself down as she took stock of her surroundings. She was manacled to the wall of a bedchamber; arms stretched high to the sides of her head with a larger band of iron keeping her body pressed against the marble.
A fresh bandage was wrapped around her waist, calming her further in the knowledge that though she may be a prisoner, whoever had caught her was trying to make a good impression. They wanted something from her.
In the back of her head, she could feel the presence that had drawn her to Neverwinter was even closer than before. "Where am I?"
"The Black Lake District of Neverwinter," a smooth voice said from the doorway directly across from her, and she raised her head to see a man garbed in the robes of a cleric of Helm. "Welcome, Majandra Damar."
"So you know who I am," Majandra said casually, relaxing into the wall as though it were the most comfortable thing she'd ever touched. Quite frankly, compared to some of the real horrors she'd faced, this oh-so-terrifying cleric could have done better. "Who the hell are you?"
"No questions!" The man snapped, lightning lancing through her body at his words.
Not too creative, Rekkei noted thoughtfully as Majandra forced a grin onto her face from the pitiful attempt at torture. But I'll give him points for the attempt at intimidation. What's next, I wonder? A scary accomplice with a whip? Oh, my, this is simply too much!
The "torture" ended as abruptly as it began, and Majandra let her smile widen, revealing sharp fangs. Two could play at this game. "Understood…sir." She resettled herself, wincing slightly at the tender wound on her side as it brushed the ring around her waist.
The cleric grunted and stared at her for a moment, empty eyes drinking in the fey'ri's exotic features. "Why have you come to Neverwinter?" he asked, forehead wrinkling all the way to his balding scalp. I would love to take it, wouldn't you? Rekkei giggled, referencing the cleric's graying head. "Consider your words carefully, demon. The geas I have put on you is one of the most unpleasant, as I would love to show you. Tell me what I want, and you won't experience it."
Geas? Majandra thought simultaneously with Rekkei, an uncommon occurrence. Her respect for the man increased slightly. Damn, looks like the game is over.
"I'm looking for something," Majandra replied seriously, tail curling around her waist as she spoke. The way they'd tied her up left her nearly sitting on her tail, something that hurt far more than the lightning had. Her tail was ultra-sensitive, a fact she tried to keep as hidden as possible from everyone.
"What is it?"
"I don't know," she replied with a shrug. "I was hoping to find it on my own time, but it looks like that's not going to happen."
"Indeed it's not. Meldanen!" The door to the room opened, revealing a short man with curly black hair on his face and head. He was dressed richly and in dark robes, the mark of a successful sorcerer.
"Yes, Desther?" the sorcerer replied, bowing slightly. Majandra's eyes narrowed slightly at the two men. Since when did cleric's work with sorcerers, much less black robes?
"What is the status of our army?" Desther demanded. "They must be ready soon, now that we have our general."
Bet you thought you'd never hear those words again, didn't you? Rekkei cackled as Majandra's entire body tensed at the word general. The only thing she wanted to avoid more than battle was leading others into it.
"They will be ready in two months." Meldanen replied assuredly, hands settling in his sleeves as he spoke. "The goblins have been…troublesome, to say the least, and many of the men have refused to work with them. There have been murders, but my sergeants have managed to tame them to a degree. Yes, two months should be enough time."
"Good." Desther grunted, turning back to Majandra. "Now, what am I going to do with you for the next two months, hmm?"
"Well," Majandra replied, "It's not like I can escape you, what with the geas you've placed on me. Let me get to know the city, especially if I'm going to be leading some kind of army against it."
"Not the city, fool," Meldanen glared at her, and she met his eyes neutrally. "The Academy of Heroes is our target."
"Why?" Majandra asked, forgetting the earlier command. The pain wasn't as bad this time, and she barely flinched.
"You will be briefed later." Desther replied, clapping his hands. The manacles fell off her instantly, and she rose to her feet with a full body stretch. "For now, the streets are yours. Be wary of what you say and do, for your actions will always come back to my ears."
"Of course," Majandra's tail lashed as she cracked her shoulders. "I know, the geas. Where are my weapons?"
Meldanen gestured and a chest appeared. "Your artifacts interest me, demon. Where are they from? I may demand to study them."
"They're from places you would seek death before seeing," Majandra replied as she buckled her wakizashi about her waist and clipped the collapsible pole arm to the sword belt. "Demand all you like, but the only way you're touching these will be taking them from my cold, dead hands." She raised her eyes to meet his, letting the crimson cat's eyes glow to show just how serious she was.
"Enough posturing." Desther interrupted the tense situation, to Meldanen's relief. "Do as you will, Demon, though be ready to come to my side when I give word."
"As you say, Master." Majandra bowed and invoked her power, disappearing from their sight with a crack of displaced air.
She reappeared on top of the house, leaning against the tiles as she looked out over the city. Where are you? She wondered, eyes drinking in the magnificent buildings. It would have been a very pretty night, but for the screams of the dying. Are you waiting for me as well?
She stood like that for a while, musing, and then leapt from the roof to the ground below, passage unnoticed but for the ravens roosting and rats scurrying.
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Aribeth awoke in bed with a start, chest heaving as she fought to calm herself. It's arrived. She thought to herself as she rolled out of bed and strolled to the window, opening it wide to let in the cool, predawn breeze. May Tyr protect his children, it's arrived. She lifted her face, letting the air cool the sweat from her skin.
"Ari?" Fenthick murmured sleepily as he rolled over in bed and found her missing, "What's wrong? The sun has barely reached the horizon."
"Nothing." Aribeth replied, climbing back into bed and her fiancé's arms. "Go back to sleep, my love." She settled herself, Fenthick's easy breathing calming her racing heart, but not her thoughts. Will you be the one?
A/N: (Stretches) Ah, now THAT felt good! Chapter two of the redo complete! Hah, if only I can find the motivation to do the next few… oh wait, I know! Reviews! Please do it.