Song of Warrior-Princess Camdia

Camdia raised her broadsword to deflect a blow on her right shoulder, staggering back to recover her footing. She stood at her ready stance, eyeing which of the undead warriors would strike next, their scimitars glinting the moon's light. Despite the great tufts of curled and spiked hair that encapsulated her warrior's head she could see through them, her eyes at night turned feline and made the world of darkness glow a soft green, hues and reflections flowing into her eyes. Spotting a undead on the periphery lower it's guard she thought "There...", and turning on her right toe leapt like a demon off the earth, sword pointed straight through the air. The sound of bells and chains echoed as she slashed through the petty armour of old undead knights, bones and rusted metal flew in the follow-through of her graceful attack. A black cape swirling in the forest, leaving the base undead unable to perceive her form til her ghost-white face came leaping out from the void. She struck again and again, concealing and striking as a half-shadow, striking down a dozen warriors in different fashions until one undead remained, stubbornly fearless. Camdia descended like a hawk, kicking away the sword of of the unholy thing, and taking great pleasure in a job well done, separated it with two satisfying strikes. The remains turned to blue ash as she sheathed her fine sword into her belt side. Bringing a black leathery hand radiating with heat to her porcelain face she felt the cold sweat emanating on her face, and her entire body. "The night air is pleasant enough, I ought to walk a bit before I take to slumber" she thought.

A moment passed before this peace was interrupted by an unsensed form, shocked by her inability to notice it, she spun round, hand on her sword hilt. The form applauded from an oak branch, even stranger was its form, a richly dressed harlequin of crimson and dappled gold. "My, my, truly I am moved! Impressed! Astonished!" as its clapped sarcastically, empty darkness behind its masque "Necrons are shattered like grandmother's vases before the great and perditious Camdia! What a show that was!" feeling this creature more odd than dangerous she adjusted her stance, saying nothing in retort. The masque tilting its head to one side "You know I have been watching and waiting, waiting and watching for you to slip up and in and even over all the troubles that could plague this land, and still, even now you amaze me, what can't she do!" she only returned a soft scowl "Ah, but you ask, how long has this gallant gentleman been watching, and when! Ho ho! I shan't ever tell. All I can say is that the true lords of this land have taken a keen eye to your doings, and how we love the exploits of one so... fascinating." she paused a moment before saying bluntly "You speak boldly, with no weapon and in striking distance." It stooped further on the branch, giggling heartily "Oh I know! How shocking, how scary to be threatened by thee! Who has already shredded apart savage beasts! Believe me, I am flattered to received such a delightful threat!" Camdia began to think this thing mad "But be warned dear warrior, threats will not suffice when the lord of this land, dark and foreboding as a child may imagine, entreats you into battle. For you see, his heart yearns for your flesh, to consume in by the sword or by the bedside..." he crouched as his jingling head turned upside down "and all manner of unspeakable acts..." after a stilted pause she said "Let him try." as she turned away in smooth confidence. Walking the path she sensed nothing behind her but the demented laughter of the harlequin.

Coming to a grove of green fairies she felt it a safe place to rest, and building a simple fire sat down in peace. Removing her smooth black gloves, beautiful hands covered in sweat, she brought out her silver rosary, fidgeting on each bead to galvanize her thoughts as she gazed into the enchanting flame. Camdia's mind drifted out, going over the promises broken, the dreams undone, and those still to keep. The faces of her beloved ones, and the lost. She thought on her own self and her apparent worthlessness that she used to imbibe in, but those old thoughts now were indulgences in the world of struggle. 'How foolish it was to think such things when I had no troubles at all, and now that I live on the roads of the world, who has time to stew in despondence? Those days of warm beds and sunlight laughter and I found some silly reason to mark down the mood and be a critic, even it was for laughs' The flames danced a little less as she continued to stare into it. 'Is this truly the life I have now? Travelling with a broken heart and hard feet to and fro with naught to tie me to a place, a home? It would be so easy to give myself to the service of a sensitive heart or a good estate, I could throw down my hands at the first one I meet I bet...' The face of a small blonde boy with a swerve in his hair came into her mind, about 7 years of age '...had things been different, I would have stayed... I would've...' she brought her together, arms round them, as she buried her face in from the dying heat of the flame. No more thoughts came to her but now only her heart shuddered its rare fragility, only for the eyes of heaven. Wallowing to her satisfaction she felt the hood of sleep cover her and laid down.