Moonlight shimmered uncertainly on the surface of the rolling ocean. The seas were calm, gently lapping against Denerim's shores. On the docks all was quiet and only those who weren't supposed to be out and about were slinking silently through the shadows. On top of a roof overlooking the sea-side warehouses were two elves, Kallian and Sticker watching all the events going on below from their hiding place in the shadow of a chimney.
Their gazes were intent on a particular warehouse a street away that, though seemingly abandoned had the distinct look of being inhabited. Every few minuets a shadowed figure would walk by the warehouse, a normal enough occurrence except that it was always the same person. A watch guard stationed on the street. Another walked the roof, looking out at the city below for possible threats.
"So, we sneak past those two, slip through the front door, and I'll watch your back as you make a grab for the maps." Kallian murmured, watching the patrolling guards. "They got this place under wraps good."
"Yeah, the boss got cautious after our old base was dug up by some guards. The idiots found it on accident, lookin' for a place to store some goods they'd swindled." Sticker explained briefly, watching the guards pacing as well. "The inside won't be so secure. Hopefully, the pigs'll be dead drunk by now, unless their routine changed since I left." He sounded doubtful of that, his face expressing the same.
"Well then…" Kallian stood, cracking her back and loosening her shoulders. "Let's get on it, then. No sense in waitin' much longer." Sticker nodded and the two slipped off the roof and into the shadows of the street. The two moved noiselessly through the shadows, attracting no notice from the guard on the street as he lazily patrolled the front of the warehouse. An alleyway between where they were trying to go and the wall they were hiding by loomed as a bright patch of empty space in front of them. By unspoken agreement Sticker went first, darting across the empty space.
On the roof the sentry saw a flicker of movement and paused, doubling back to take a closer look at the alley. Kallian held perfectly still, pressing her back flat against the wall behind her and waited. The sentry looked right where she was standing twice but didn't seem to see her. After a moment of searching the alleyways the man turned back to his routine, mumbling about cats.
Releasing her breath slowly, Kallian looked to make sure the other sentry wasn't looking then darted across the open space and the two silently ran to the door while remaining under the shadow of the eaves. Sticker opened the door and stepped inside, Kallian following quickly after. The moment she was over the threshold she was assaulted by the potent smell of a cooking fire mixed with a strong overly of body odor and singed hair. In short, it smelled exactly like how she imagined a warehouse full of men would.
The warehouse was both for storage of cargo and boats, two channels of deep water cut out in the floor for docking. One of the wet docks was already occupied by a boat that Kallian could just barely see over a mountain of unevenly packed crates that stretched toward the ceiling. The walls were hidden by similarly disordered stacks of crates, making any number of excellent hiding places.
The two elves took advantage of them immediately as a couple of men walked by; talking and laughing boisterously in the way that men did when they were on their second pint of strong ale. Once they'd passed and were headed to the other side where the boats were, Sticker broke cover and lead the way to a set of sliding paneled doors that stretched high to the ceiling. They were half open, just wide enough to allow people to pass through unhindered. Sticker wasted no time passing over the threshold and quickly hid behind another stack of crates that took up a quarter of the room.
Kallian crouched next to him, observing the obstacle before them. Five men sat at the bench table eating in front of the cook fire that was smelling up the whole warehouse. Beyond that was an open faced room filled with bunks, some of which were occupied by sleeping men, and a few that were sitting up still and chatting. Sticker pointed out where they needed to go; a door to the right of them hidden by the shadows of yet another mound of crates that was serving as a wall between the eating area and the sleeping area. The door's outline was defined by the soft light of a candle around the edges, marking it clearly despite the hard shadows being thrown over it. Open space loomed between them once again and before Kallian could begin formulating a plan to cross the space unnoticed, Sticker tapped her on the shoulder and pointed up.
The rafters above were shrouded in darkness, but as far as Kallian could see they would get them where they needed to go. Nodding in understanding, she looked to the drinkers once more before standing slowly and started the perilous climb up the crates. When they got to the top she was too short to reach the beams, so she gave Sticker a hand up and once he managed to balance himself, he braced his chest against the beam and hauled Kallian up by the hand.
The rafters squeaked under their weight initially, but if any of the drinkers below heard, they didn't look up to inspect the noise. Sticker paused a moment to make sure that Kallian was properly balanced before traversing the rafter, quick light steps taking him over the length of it with only the occasional squeak of old wood and shifting of dust to mark his presence to those below. Kallain followed with similar movements, and when they reached the other side Sticker sized up the distance between them and the mound of crates below. It was a fair drop, probably too far to fall without making a great deal of noise. Carefully he crouched on the beam as close as he could get to the highest standing crate slipped off, catching himself from falling by holding onto the beam with his hands.
The wood groaned in protest to the movement, more dust shaking off of the rafters farther up near the ceiling. Below, the conversation waned a bit, the others listening to see if the roof would make the noise again before picking back up their conversations, waving off the noise as the old warehouse settling.
Sticker let go of the beam when one of the drinking thieves cracked a joke, making the others at the table laugh loudly. He landed with a soft thump on the top of the box but nobody paused from their drinking this time. Relieved that so far they hadn't been caught, Kallian hung off the rafter as well, Sticker catching her around the waist when she let go and noiselessly set her down on the top of the crate. They didn't pause long; the two elves making the tense climb down from the box mountain, Kallian stopping on a crate that was just above the floor as Sticker continued down toward the door that was their goal.
She waited and watched as he went inside, opening the door slowly to prevent the old hinges from squeaking too loud. It smelled a bit like a brewery in the room which was no surprise given the two kegs of unspecified liquid resting in their cradles near the left wall. In the middle of the room was a long dining table that had seen better days, the surface scarred from knives and pitted with stab marks, the legs missing chunks from being repeatedly kicked. On the opposite side was a small bunk hidden behind the casks, a man lying there partially under the covers with a bottle of something in his slack hands and was snoring loud enough to wake the dead.
Not daring to close the door after himself, Sticker stood and looked over the table scattered with papers. Some were just writing, others numbers, and a handful were maps. He crept around the table, shuffling the documents as quietly as he could as he looked for the plans to the Denerim estate. Once he was sure he was caught, the snoring man on the bunk ceasing in his noise making abruptly to turn over. Standing dead still Sticker watched as the man lifted the bottle in his hands to his lips, took a swig, swallowed, then got comfortable again and resumed snoring.
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Sticker started going through the papers a little faster and when he didn't see what he was looking for turned toward the dresser on the wall opposite the bunk. The candle lighting the room was perched there, casting unsteady light on his work as he opened the drawers and rifled through the documents, fake signets, lock picks and empty bottles of booze and ink. Just when he was about to give up he opened one of the lower drawers and found the plans he was looking for. Withholding the urge to sigh with relief he folded the papers and tucked them away in a pouch on his belt. Glancing up one last time to make sure that the man in the bed was still asleep, he went back outside, closing the door behind him gently and gave Kallian the thumb's up.
Nodding in understanding, she turned to start climbing the boxes again and head to the safety of the rafters. She only got one step up when a man, bottle in hand, came swaggering around the corner. "Oi, Ilan! We got an idea-"
He stopped dead, spotting the two elves, and there was an tense moment of silence as the two parties stared at each other, unsure what to do. Then the man opened his mouth to yell for help and Kallian launched from her place on the mountain of crates, drawing her dagger from her belt in the same swift motion and slit his throat.
It was too late, however; he'd already made a noise and the sound of his body falling to the floor attracted the attention of the others. Sticker started running, Kallian following hot on his heels as they abandoned any pretense of being sneaky and simply made a mad break for the exit. Those who were drinking at the table leapt after them once they saw the elves break cover, the time it took for them to stand giving the two enough time to reach the sliding door long before them.
Sticker wasn't sure what he'd hit until he'd danced out of the way of trouble, having collided with the chest of a large man who was coming in from the warehouse. The man shouted in surprise, but Kallian was not so lucky. He had been warned already when Sticker shot by, and when he saw the smaller elf try and do the same he reached out and grabbed her around the wrist, tugging her to an abrupt stop and twisted her arm behind her back, bringing the elf against his chest.
Kallian gasped in pain, finding herself suddenly caught and lashed out with her drawn dagger. The man's hand stopped her, clamping around her other wrist and twisting it until she was forced to let go, taking her weapon as his own and immediately brandishing it against her.
Sticker went to help extract Kallian from her attacker, but stopped abruptly when the man looked up, meeting him dead in the eye and laughed, the others from inside coming to back him up now.
"So, you run off an' get yourself a girl, is that right knife ear?" The man asked, his stale breath blowing into Kallian's face as he pinned her against his chest, his meaty arm preventing her escape and the knife at her throat preventing her from being reckless.
"Yeah, I did. Let her go Farst, she ain't who you're angry at." Sticker replied without hesitation, his stony glare centered on the dirty man. The two men obviously had some history, the glares that they cast at each other telling a novel's worth of tales about the enmity they felt for each other.
He laughed, jerking Kallian as she made another bid at wiggling out of his grasp. "It don't work that way an' you know it." Farst grinned, rubbing the blade against Kallian's neck and she shied away from it as best she could. "We'll take yer girl as consolation, then beat yer face in for leavin'. After we cut off your dirty thieving hands, that is." The others laughed at that, their murderous intent clear.
"Don't you lay a hand on me you rotten gutter sucking swine." Kallian hissed, trying again to wrench out of Farst's arms.
"Damn mouthy bitch you got Sticker." Farst growled. "We'll fix 'er for you, don't worry." With a feral grin he grabbed at Kallian' breast roughly, squeezing hard before moving his hand and tugged at her shirt until the thin fabric tore.
Kallian went utterly still, her body ridged as a plank with her eyes gone wide in fear. Her mind was screaming at her to do something, the utter terror of being helpless and trapped while some dirty man had his way with her roared to the surface with a vengeance. She didn't think anymore. There was no room left for thinking. The wild need to escape consumed her.
The font of her shirt ripped almost in half, caught only by the hem at the bottom. Farst seemed pleased that he'd cowed the elf girl into submission so easily, and then he doubled over in pain, nearly retching when an elbow suddenly slammed into his stomach.
Kallian turned, felt something tug at her neck and there was a brief flash of pain but she ignored it. Balling her fist, she punched Farst in the throat then slammed the flat of her palm into his nose, breaking it with a crunch and a spray of blood. He flailed his dagger weakly as a means of defense against the sudden assault and Kallian simply took the weapon from him. She stabbed it into his belly, turned the blade and wrenched it out of his side. Blood coated her hands and side, and Farst's entrails spilt out onto the floor. He collapsed, trying to hold them in as his blood splattered on Kallian's boots, but she didn't stop to watch him die.
They would all die. All of these leering men that wanted to harm her. She would kill them all. No man would ever touch her again.
Sticker watched, half amazed and half horrified as Kallian dove into the fray, covered in spattered blood and nearly half naked yet seemingly unconcerned by that fact. The air became thick with the metallic tang of blood and Sticker began to notice that she was enjoying the slaughter, her lips pulled back in a feral grin, bleeding from half a dozen wounds, but never tiring. She was caught in the battle rage, and when one of the men who had been fighting her disengaged to run away, she threw her dagger at him, the blade sinking into his flesh just under his left shoulder blade.
The two elves didn't stay outnumbered for long, the thugs either fleeing or dying to Kallian's rage and Sticker's precision strikes as he tried to cover her flank. She slashed the last one through the throat and as he fell Kallian followed him, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest and spitting curses. Finding that they were suddenly alone except for a few bodies, Sticker looked around to make sure that there was no one left to fight before going to Kallian and standing behind her as she still stabbed the lifeless body.
"Kallian…" He mumbled, not sure what to make of her. She didn't seem to hear him though. "Kallian!" Still there was no response, then the blade she was using broke off at the hilt in the dead man's chest and she stared at it, seemingly bewildered.
Kneeling, Sticker reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Kallian, he's dead, you don't have-"
The second his fingers brushed her skin Kallian whirled, back handing Sticker across the face with her fist then slammed the broken dagger against his shoulder. If the blade had been whole it would have probably killed him, but instead she broke his collarbone, making any number of small lesions with the sharp points of the broken blade.
Sticker drew back quickly with a cry of pain, staring at Kallian, and she stared back, broken blade in hand. Suddenly she gasped and dropped the weapon with a clatter. "Oh Maker…" She whispered her eyes going wide and watery. "I'm so sorry Sticker, I never woulda… I didn't mean…" Then she broke down in earnest, wrapping her arms around herself and sitting on her knees with a bowed head, sniffling and trembling. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, her voice small and didn't look up at him.
Sticker was stunned, both by the pain in his arms and the sudden transformation. He'd never seen Kallian cry. Ever. It was only after staring at her for a long moment that he realized blood was pouring out of her neck from a knife wound. "Kallian, you're bleeding. A lot!"
Startled, Kallian reached up and touched her neck, a look of surprise on her tear-streaked face when her hand came away covered in blood. Absently she tugged off her wrist markers, folded one up and pressed it to the wound then tied the other around her neck to keep it in place.
His heart sank when he saw what she had been concealing under the fabric and realized belatedly that this was the first time he'd ever seen her without them on. Scars stood in relief against her tan skin. There were so many around her wrists he wondered if it was all scar tissue there. He'd seen something like this before from prisoners who'd spent time in the Denerim dungeons for long periods, but never to this degree of severity. "Maker Kallian…" He breathed, eyes glued to the intense scars. "What did they do to you?"
She remained silent, staring balefully at her lap for a long moment until she was satisfied with the tightness of the fabric around her neck. When she finally did look up, it was with anger and hatred in her eyes. "You don't want to know."
He was shocked by her firm tone, wondering how she had pulled it off when looking like such a wreck. "No, I think I do." He replied, his gaze flicking to Farst who was lying in a puddle of his own blood and guts. "I really do. You didn't just get angry; you went crazy. I wanna be prepared if that ever happens again. You nearly killed me." He gestured to his broken collarbone with his good hand.
Tugging the ragged ends of her torn shirt together in the vague hope of achieving some degree of modesty, Kallian let her gaze fall again. "You were outside the Alienage so you wouldn't know…" She inhaled and released a shuddering breath. "Didja hear 'bout the massacre in Denerim estate?"
Sticker nodded his head. Of course he'd heard. Everyone had heard. The majority of the Arl's castle guards had been slaughtered by elves, and it was the reason for the Purge after Howe had taken over. Rumors had it that the Arl's son had only barely survived the attack, his personal guards finally managing to stop the rebellion before he was killed.
"That was me." She muttered, getting to her feet unsteadily and swaying where she stood.
Sticker got to his feet, holding his damaged arm close to his chest and moved to support Kallian. She flinched from his touch initially, then let him provide some support so that she didn't fall over. "Are you… serious?" He knew that Kallian was good, the dead men scattered around them were proof enough of that, but to take out an entire retinue of guards? It seemed… far-fetched at best.
"I am." She replied in a quiet voice as the two picked their way out of the building. "Sorris an' Nelaros… The Arl kidnapped me, an' they came to save me. We tried fightin' our way out but…"
"You were captured." Sticker finished when Kallian paused, the pain of the memory clear in her voice. "How long?"
She didn't need him to specify. "A month, maybe more."
Sticker swore quietly under his breath. "Why weren't you executed?"
"I wish I had been." Kallian replied in a whisper, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out the memories that were assaulting her. "They kept me because they could, because they… because I could amuse them."
"Maker Kallian, it's a wonder you're sane." The smell of blood faded when they got outside of the building, overpowered by the scent of the sea and fish that was a staple of the Denerim shoreline. Sticker looked to the skyline and realized with a sinking stomach that it was going to be a long trip from here back to home.
"We'll make it before mornin'." Kallian murmured, as if she could read his thoughts. Nodding silently in agreement, Sticker started the long trip back, the two walking in tense silence through the empty streets.
I should be a game level designer, seriously. Maybe one day I will scan all of the sketches that I've done of the battlefields and show you all what kind of effort I put in to making these in-story areas believable for you guys. Ah well… But this was fun, right? Setting up my horrible horrible scheme to create a love triangle that will never be fulfilled because our favorite hard-hearted red-headed elf sitting in the middle is dead scared of men. And there was some character development in there too. Oh, and nudity. Some violence as well. Damn, I've just made a nearly M-rated chapter, eh? Pulling out all of the stops here.
Also, merry holidays! Everyone be safe, and all that.