Time: Midnight ⇒ Very early morning
Location: Town near Roshmi
Mentions: Nabarra
@nasty
Scurrying out of a tavern as the call for war came out would never look good. The hooded figure crawled out of the window on the balcony, then crawled up the drain on the roof. Halastra hung high in the sky. Her purple gaze looked over him. “B-Blessed be… the lady of… of shadowsss.” Hissed the hooded creature as he made Halastra sign towards the goddess and then quickly started to make his way along the rooftops. Below adventurers and guards patrolled. Surely they didn’t expect an attack already. It was far too soon?
The figure reached the edge of town and leaped across the dirt wall that was raised. His agility made it an easy feat. “What?” he heard. Like a shadow, he slinked behind a spike in the ditches. Orange fire-flame went over the place he was at just a second ago. “What is it?” Another voice said. Demi-human? Light elf? The figure wasn’t sure. If it were light elves he could be in trouble. For a while he heard neither voice. Then: “Nothing. I thought I saw something.” “You’re on edge.” The other voice said. “The dark elves aren’t here yet. Keep your wits.”
The orange light vanished again. The cloaked and hooded figure continued running. The trees were close. He ran into them without a second thought. He knew this place well. For half an hour he ran. Until he reached the place.
Before him was a dark elf maiden, digging a shallow pit with some wood and moss laying next to her.
“You’re a slippery one, Radomir.” She teased with her voice.
“War’s declared and you still manage to slip out of the town. So, did you find her?”“Yes-Yes.” Skittered the creature as it lowered its hood, revealing a mouse-like visage. “The Traitor-Deserter. I have found her. She is in the village.” His beady eyes looked at the pit, then looked around. In only two more spots did he see a bit more disturbed moss. The huntress had definitely dug some more traps than that. “Mistress, why wait until the declaration. Why not ambush her in bed yesterday? It's easier. Faster. Cleaner.”
“And useless.” Nimueh cut him off as she stabbed down some sharpened sticks down in the shallow pit she had dug.
“She’s more than just a bounty now. She’s a message.” She hated him questioning her. For one she had lived vastly longer than him and hunted vastly more dangerous game. Secondly, he knew nothing of war. Radomir was one thing only. A survivor.
When it came to game like the infamous Nabarra, you couldn’t immediately strike. Like a hydra, you had to examine the prey. See how it reacted. Then drive it or lure it into a trap. Weaken it day after day after day. Deny it sleep or rest. Keep it on edge for days if not weeks.
“Now-Now… the payment?” Radomir asked.
Nimueh carefully covered the pit trap with some moss and sticks. If the mouse demi-human hadn’t seen the trap being made, he wouldn’t have recognized it. Though maybe he would’ve smelled it. The huntress got up and turned towards the mouse turncoat. With a sweet smile, she said:
“Could you grab the spade over there first?” She pointed at a spade somewhere in the corner.
Radomir grew anxious. The huntress wasn’t known to be nice. Especially not towards non-dark elves. The mouse looked at the spade. It looked normal. Then he looked at the ground. No disturbed moss or grass. Still, carefully he walked towards it, never putting weight on the foot he was moving until he was sure there was nothing but solid earth and root underneath him. From the corner of his eyes he could see Nimueh just standing there, waiting for him. He reached the spade. There was no rope attached to it. Did she really just asked him to bring the spade. He pulled it out of the ground and waited for a second. Nothing happened. Maybe he was really just paranoid.
Then he turned to face Nimueh. She held a knife backhanded. For a second he saw the purple glint of a spider silk thin thread in Halastra's moon. His eyes grew. Nimueh flashed him a cruel smile. He braced for a jump. Wood creaked somewhere. The spade flung away. His feet left the ground. He was in the air. The next thing he knew he was on the ground. Pinned by something heavy. He looked up. A heavy box laid on top of him. Something was wrong with one of his legs. He couldn’t move it. It hurt, though it registered like something distant. “Traitor!” Radomir hissed and screeched. “Traitor! You promised me! Oathbreaker! Turncoat! Snake!”
Radomir kept calling her names but Nimueh didn’t seem to care. She casually retrieved the shovel and put it away.
“Your usefulness vanished when the war started, Radomir.” She said as she walked over to him and crouched before him. Despite this, she still looked as if she towered over him.
“Now you’ll be useful as bait.”“A thousand mouseling curses upon you! A thousand curses upon your father! A million on your people! You will never have Avalia! May the deserter kill you!” He hissed and trashed underneath the weight. With every move the pain became more pronounced though. His leg was burning.
The huntress’ eyes looked over the mouseling. No blood. That was good. He wouldn’t bleed to death just yet. With her hand, she grabbed his snout and turned it to look her right in her cold, icy eyes. Her mother’s eyes. Eyes of sorrow, the dark elf priests had called them. She didn’t feel sorrow now. She felt her rage being answered.
“Save your breath, vermin. I need your screams in a bit.”
Solaris was still an hour out. Nimueh looked at the pyre. It would be big enough. And it was close enough to the forest’s edge to know for sure that it would be seen. An exhausted Radomir hung from a pole with his arms up. Behind it began the traps that led into the forest. In the front was a sign with on it, carved neatly, it read: “We are coming”. In the common tongue. The true message was written in the language of dark elves: “Your sins against your people are not forgiven. Your treason is not forgotten. Blood is owed. We are coming for you.”
It would be clear enough for the one it was meant to. Looking at what she made Nimueh couldn’t help but smile. Large game on Daka could be fun but there was nothing quite like hunting something bigger, something more dangerous. Her heart was racing in her chest. She was excited! Her eyes turned towards the wood piled up at the mouseling’s feet. It was built low. The fires wouldn’t burn high. They didn’t have to. The smoke and the light would be seen easily from the town walls. It would, however, make for a very slow and torturous death.
“Treason. Traitor. A thousand curses.” Radomir, almost breathless, kept saying. The last hour had taken a toll on him. Half an hour ago he could barely yell anymore.
Nimueh just smiled at him and then tossed the torch on the pyre. The oil carried the flame in a ring around the outer edges of the fire. Radomir, somehow having found new energy, began to kick away with his one good leg. His screams were first low and barely audible, then began to grow louder and louder as the flames began to lick his feet.
The huntress didn’t stick around to see how the fire would so slowly consume him. She chose to go up the trees and keep a safe distance so nobody would see her instantly, though she still had a pretty good sight on the small clearing where the pyre was. Radomir’s shouts and screams of pain reached her a few minutes later now. Which meant they’d reach the town soon enough as well. All while Solaris rose over the horizon. It was almost poetic. But Nimueh had no time to mule over poetics like some lovestruck seccenter. She would see her prey for the first time now.
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