Post by xavria on Nov 16, 2008 15:12:42 GMT -8
Xavria sat upon a rocky outcropping just outside the entrance to the dark elven village, running a whetstone along the edge of her new blade. The sharp sound of stone striking metal made the spot between her shoulder blades tickle and she rolled her shoulders as if to dispel the sensation. Her hand moved the stone along the edge from hilt to tip. The movement become monotonous, her eyes watched, yet the blade seemed to disappear as she was drawn back into the land of memories.
The smell of smoke was thick on the morning air, so much smoke; it was choking, burning the eyes, the nose, and the lungs. Perhaps her mother had burned breakfast again. The child rolled over on her pallet, her hand brushing against the outer wall of the cottage, and quickly jerked it away as the heat burned her flesh. She jerked fully awake from the pain, sitting up and finding the room smothered in thick black smoke. This was not due to mother's cooking!
She crouched low on her belly; wiggled forward off her pallet toward what she hoped was the doorway. She inched along and kept her head down as the smoke roiled above her head. She was plodding along fairly well, when her hand brushed against something on the floor. Fingers traced along the outline of the object, it seemed familiar, but in all the panic and confusion, it took a few moments for her brain to put it together. Her fingers trailed up higher on the object feeling cloth and the arm beneath it, slender muscles beneath cooling flesh. A scream tore from her throat and she hurried on her way forward, her mind warring with logic at what was happening. She made it to the main room of the cottage where she came upon two more bodies, that of her father and baby sister. She pushed past the pain these images caused and made her way to the front door that stood open, allowing a cool breeze to waft inside, fanning the flames that were now licking up the walls of the cottage to the thatching on the roof.
Xavria crawled out into the dark cold night, trembling with fear and loss, her mind and heart hurting as if she'd been struck two mortal blows with the sharpest double-edged blade. But blessed numbness soon overcame her as she knelt there amidst the ruins of the tiny village, the wind blowing ash and smoke around, obscuring the fleeing forms of the other families who had called this place home. But their escape was cut short, their screams peeling through the air like the chime of hells bells as the vermin who had laid waist to their homes came out of the darkness like wraiths, cutting them down when they tried to run.
Fiery light was cast aloft, its sputtering ambiance illuminating her tiny frame as she knelt upon the cold ground. She froze; terrified to lift her gaze to see what kind of hideous monster had discovered her. But self-preservation at last gave her a swift kick to the proverbial rear and she lurched up, a feral cry erupting from her throat as she lashed out at the large frame of the orc that meant to grab her. She beat at his legs with her tiny fists, tears of anger and fear cutting through the soot that marred her pale cheeks. She was grabbed by the nape of her neck and hoisted off her feet, legs kicking, trying to strike out at her captor. Her face was brought within inches of that ugly mug and she could smell the feted stench of his breath as his beady pig eyes glared back at her.
"Fresh meet for the Cap’ in!" He tossed her scrawny little body over his shoulder like a sack of turnips and headed back the way he'd come, to meet up with the other raiders who'd come ashore. Two of the raiding ships had already shoved off the beach and the men at the oars were putting their backs into it to beat the tide. Xavria was tossed into the bottom of the nearest boat and the orc who had abducted her quickly followed, shoving her down onto her belly as he grabbed her arms and pulled her wrists behind her back, quickly lashing them together with strips of hide. His large foot then came down on the middle of her back and pressed her down into rough and splintered wood of the bottom of the boat. She kept struggling, the bindings cutting into her wrists, her cries and shrieks fighting to be heard above the crash of the waves. At last her orc captor had had enough of this and he cuffed her upside the head with his beefy fist and blessed silence reigned.
The constant sway of the ship roused her some time later and Xavria found her unable to move but a few inches in either direction. She blinked in the gloom, her eyes adjusting to the dimness of her cell. Hands tried to rise, but she found them still bound behind her back in metal shackles. The echo of chains met her ears, making a chill race down her spine. She tried to move her feet and found them similarly bound. Shifting against the wall alerted her to the collar about her neck, a short length of chain securing the collar to the curved wall of what she now realized was the area below the decks of a rather large ship.
There were other captives, she made note of now, as her head began to clear little by little, though the throbbing pain at her temple continued to nag. Moans and whimpers of pain filled the air, making the little girl join in, her teeth chattering as fear once again took an icy grip upon her heart and squeezed. There were shoats from above, in a language unfamiliar to her. Heavy footfalls thundered down the steps and the orc who had taken her away from the only home she had ever known approached, casting his piggy eyes around.
Xavri instinctively shrunk back as far as she could, but she had nothing to fear this time, she was bypassed for a much lankier adult male, who had once been the village bard. He was dragged from the floor and up the stairs to the deck. Silence for a few brief moments, but then the horrible screaming began and Xavria's young mind could only imagine what was being done to him. She had missed the previous day and a half of this same treatment, had she been awake for it she would have known they had numbered forty. They now dwindled to twenty-five. When she asked what was happening, she was informed that none knew for sure, only that those that were taken above deck never came back.
Several days passed, and each day more and more of her people were led up the steps to what she knew now was their ultimate death. So much blood had been spilled, it began dripping between the deck boards, splatting here and there like crimson raindrops. Xavria looked up just as one rather large droplet rained down, bursting across her forehead. She shrieked and tried desperately to wipe it away, but her hands were still bound behind her. As if hearing the screams of her people, as they were one by one systematically slaughtered was not enough, this was enough to drive her over the edge, to break her fragile mind. She sat there wide eyed, shrieking inconsolably while the others tried desperately to silence her. She thrashed and strained against her bindings, chains scraping and howling as her little body fought with all of its might to flee.
This time several pairs of booted feet came clattering down the stairs, in the lead, the large robust frame of the Captain, who wasted little time in grabbing the still shrieking little dark elf by the collar, hoisting her up as far as her chains would allow, his feted breath blasting her in the face with its fowl stench. "SHUT MOUTH!" He growled, and Xavria wailed, kicking out with her feet, arms struggling behind her back. But she did not cease her cries, and the Captain, the terror of the seas Uthanka unshackled her and dropped her to her knees upon the floorboards, his mates grabbing hold of her as one grasped a large fistful of hair and wrenched her head back, anticipating their Captain would slit her throat right then and there. A large dagger was produced from a sheath at his belt and the other captives fell silent.
At last Xavria ceased her cries, paralyzed with fear as she stared up at the large Orc wielding the blade. Uthanka stepped forward again and instructed the orc not holding the girl by the hair to force her mouth open, revealing that wiggling, glistening pink muscle. Thick fingers grasped it and the knife made one pass, plucking that little tongue from its hiding place. She screamed, briefly this time, before she was dropped to the floorboards and secured in place once more. Blood welled in her mouth, flowing down the back of her throat and making her gag, until she turned her head to the side and spit it out. She was thinking this torture was a fate worse than death, but why hadn't he just slit her throat like the others, what was so special about her?
She was nothing special, no, just young and malleable. She could be molded into whatever was necessary. She was made aware of this within the coming weeks as the dark elf population below decks was whittled down to a handful, the very young and strong all that was left. They would be sold off to the highest bidder as soon as the ship pulled into its last port for the season. Xavria would be one of them, well, might be, if she lived long enough. The cruel extraction of her tongue and subsequent infection that settled in soon after robbed her of her strength and sickness prevailed. She could barely lift her head off her chest when food was brought, or water was ladled out. At last, the Captain, deciding to cut his losses, ordered the girl to be hauled up on deck and tossed overboard to be food for the fishes.
At last her brief life would be over, the pain would end and she would rejoin her family in the hereafter if she were lucky. Her frail body was hefted and tossed over another shoulder and she was carried up the steps to the deck and unceremoniously tossed overboard. Her body hit the water with a rather miniscule splash. She floated on the waves created by the wake of the ship as it passed, unable to lift her head, she swallowed several mouthfuls of salty sea water, causing her stomach to rebel and what little was left of the contents in her stomach rose up to be expelled from her mouth. The last thing she did before she lost consciousness was to cry out with all her heart for every god and goddess she could think of, and even those she did not know, to save her.
A bracingly cold wind buffeted Lucrexia as she stood at the side of the ship that was blessedly bearing her farther away from ‘home’. This trip in particular had been agonizingly long and excruciating in that her father had actually pretended to show interest in her activities. Fortunately, he was easily distracted. Drawing a deep, sea spray laden breath, her slender gloved fingers gripped the rail as she concentrated on compartmentalizing that part of her that she showed to her family. Amber eyes gazed out over the gray foam capped water, noticed the swells that forewarned of the storm ahead.
Chill rain drove tiny needles against her cheeks as she raised the hood to her cloak, the ship's crew coming alive behind her with preparations of what was to come. As she turned to retreat to her cabin, something caught the corner of her eye. Frowning, she turned back, eyes narrowed as she studied the growing swells. There, small but recognizable. A child this far out? She had to be seeing things. Drawing the small spyglass from her cloak pocket, she peered through it to the pale object bobbing in the sea. So it was. A body. A child. Pity. How unfortunate to be lost at sea and die cold and alone. But wait...did it...? Yes, a small pale arm rose from the water and seemed to struggle to hold on to life. All thoughts of ‘how’ and ‘why’ dashed from her mind, the noblewoman launched into action.
"Captain! Child overboard on the port side. Alter your course and put the longboat over."
"Beggin' yer pardon Lady Ouss'afin.... but ye must be seein' things. There be no other ships for miles and a body in these waters would be long dead and food for the fishes."
"Do NOT gainsay me, Captain. I own this ship. I said alter course for that child. You will do it, or you will see precisely how long a body can survive in these waters." Her voice crisp and cold with no leniency in it, the captain paled and gave the orders. As the longboat was lowered, Lucrexia turned to go below, calling out her own orders as she departed.
"Bring the child to my cabin. Bring blankets, hot water, wine and soup. And if it dies before it reaches my quarters, so will all the men in that boat." Reaching the relative sanctuary of her cabin, she shed her soaked cloak and lowered herself into the lone chair to wait. Unsure of what had come over her, she rubbed her brow. Mercy was never one of her strong traits; besides, it would have probably been more merciful to let the creature die out there than to try to rescue it. But something insisted she make the effort. With a heavy sigh, she lit the hanging lamp and waited.
Half an hour later, the frail form of the child lay swaddled in blankets, her head propped up by pillows as Lucrexia bathed her brow. It was quite obvious the child’s life was hanging by the proverbial thread, her flesh pale and clammy, her lips just beginning to loose that ghastly blue tinge as circulation began to return. The child trembled and whimpered softly, aching with the onset of fever that burned like an inferno through her frail body. For Lucrexia, it would be many long hours; perhaps days before she would know if the child would even wake from this state.
On the fourth day after her miraculous rescue from the cold waters that should have been her last resting place, Xavria’s eyes fluttered open and she saw for the first time the woman who was her savior, whom she would grow in time to call ‘mother’. She was apprehensive at first when Luci coaxed her to explain how she had come to be out at sea. With the loss of her tongue, Xavria had to show Luci by way of rather crude doodles what had become of her home and her family, and finally what had happened to her….
“Daydreaming again, Xavi?” Sadori asked with a bit of curiosity, stepping up beside her young charge, looking over the naked sword blade lying across her lap, the sharpening stone forgotten in her hand. The girl had come a long way, but she still had so much to learn, such as never letting her guard down. Especially if she wished to live to see her dream of becoming a knight bloom to fruition.
The smell of smoke was thick on the morning air, so much smoke; it was choking, burning the eyes, the nose, and the lungs. Perhaps her mother had burned breakfast again. The child rolled over on her pallet, her hand brushing against the outer wall of the cottage, and quickly jerked it away as the heat burned her flesh. She jerked fully awake from the pain, sitting up and finding the room smothered in thick black smoke. This was not due to mother's cooking!
She crouched low on her belly; wiggled forward off her pallet toward what she hoped was the doorway. She inched along and kept her head down as the smoke roiled above her head. She was plodding along fairly well, when her hand brushed against something on the floor. Fingers traced along the outline of the object, it seemed familiar, but in all the panic and confusion, it took a few moments for her brain to put it together. Her fingers trailed up higher on the object feeling cloth and the arm beneath it, slender muscles beneath cooling flesh. A scream tore from her throat and she hurried on her way forward, her mind warring with logic at what was happening. She made it to the main room of the cottage where she came upon two more bodies, that of her father and baby sister. She pushed past the pain these images caused and made her way to the front door that stood open, allowing a cool breeze to waft inside, fanning the flames that were now licking up the walls of the cottage to the thatching on the roof.
Xavria crawled out into the dark cold night, trembling with fear and loss, her mind and heart hurting as if she'd been struck two mortal blows with the sharpest double-edged blade. But blessed numbness soon overcame her as she knelt there amidst the ruins of the tiny village, the wind blowing ash and smoke around, obscuring the fleeing forms of the other families who had called this place home. But their escape was cut short, their screams peeling through the air like the chime of hells bells as the vermin who had laid waist to their homes came out of the darkness like wraiths, cutting them down when they tried to run.
Fiery light was cast aloft, its sputtering ambiance illuminating her tiny frame as she knelt upon the cold ground. She froze; terrified to lift her gaze to see what kind of hideous monster had discovered her. But self-preservation at last gave her a swift kick to the proverbial rear and she lurched up, a feral cry erupting from her throat as she lashed out at the large frame of the orc that meant to grab her. She beat at his legs with her tiny fists, tears of anger and fear cutting through the soot that marred her pale cheeks. She was grabbed by the nape of her neck and hoisted off her feet, legs kicking, trying to strike out at her captor. Her face was brought within inches of that ugly mug and she could smell the feted stench of his breath as his beady pig eyes glared back at her.
"Fresh meet for the Cap’ in!" He tossed her scrawny little body over his shoulder like a sack of turnips and headed back the way he'd come, to meet up with the other raiders who'd come ashore. Two of the raiding ships had already shoved off the beach and the men at the oars were putting their backs into it to beat the tide. Xavria was tossed into the bottom of the nearest boat and the orc who had abducted her quickly followed, shoving her down onto her belly as he grabbed her arms and pulled her wrists behind her back, quickly lashing them together with strips of hide. His large foot then came down on the middle of her back and pressed her down into rough and splintered wood of the bottom of the boat. She kept struggling, the bindings cutting into her wrists, her cries and shrieks fighting to be heard above the crash of the waves. At last her orc captor had had enough of this and he cuffed her upside the head with his beefy fist and blessed silence reigned.
The constant sway of the ship roused her some time later and Xavria found her unable to move but a few inches in either direction. She blinked in the gloom, her eyes adjusting to the dimness of her cell. Hands tried to rise, but she found them still bound behind her back in metal shackles. The echo of chains met her ears, making a chill race down her spine. She tried to move her feet and found them similarly bound. Shifting against the wall alerted her to the collar about her neck, a short length of chain securing the collar to the curved wall of what she now realized was the area below the decks of a rather large ship.
There were other captives, she made note of now, as her head began to clear little by little, though the throbbing pain at her temple continued to nag. Moans and whimpers of pain filled the air, making the little girl join in, her teeth chattering as fear once again took an icy grip upon her heart and squeezed. There were shoats from above, in a language unfamiliar to her. Heavy footfalls thundered down the steps and the orc who had taken her away from the only home she had ever known approached, casting his piggy eyes around.
Xavri instinctively shrunk back as far as she could, but she had nothing to fear this time, she was bypassed for a much lankier adult male, who had once been the village bard. He was dragged from the floor and up the stairs to the deck. Silence for a few brief moments, but then the horrible screaming began and Xavria's young mind could only imagine what was being done to him. She had missed the previous day and a half of this same treatment, had she been awake for it she would have known they had numbered forty. They now dwindled to twenty-five. When she asked what was happening, she was informed that none knew for sure, only that those that were taken above deck never came back.
Several days passed, and each day more and more of her people were led up the steps to what she knew now was their ultimate death. So much blood had been spilled, it began dripping between the deck boards, splatting here and there like crimson raindrops. Xavria looked up just as one rather large droplet rained down, bursting across her forehead. She shrieked and tried desperately to wipe it away, but her hands were still bound behind her. As if hearing the screams of her people, as they were one by one systematically slaughtered was not enough, this was enough to drive her over the edge, to break her fragile mind. She sat there wide eyed, shrieking inconsolably while the others tried desperately to silence her. She thrashed and strained against her bindings, chains scraping and howling as her little body fought with all of its might to flee.
This time several pairs of booted feet came clattering down the stairs, in the lead, the large robust frame of the Captain, who wasted little time in grabbing the still shrieking little dark elf by the collar, hoisting her up as far as her chains would allow, his feted breath blasting her in the face with its fowl stench. "SHUT MOUTH!" He growled, and Xavria wailed, kicking out with her feet, arms struggling behind her back. But she did not cease her cries, and the Captain, the terror of the seas Uthanka unshackled her and dropped her to her knees upon the floorboards, his mates grabbing hold of her as one grasped a large fistful of hair and wrenched her head back, anticipating their Captain would slit her throat right then and there. A large dagger was produced from a sheath at his belt and the other captives fell silent.
At last Xavria ceased her cries, paralyzed with fear as she stared up at the large Orc wielding the blade. Uthanka stepped forward again and instructed the orc not holding the girl by the hair to force her mouth open, revealing that wiggling, glistening pink muscle. Thick fingers grasped it and the knife made one pass, plucking that little tongue from its hiding place. She screamed, briefly this time, before she was dropped to the floorboards and secured in place once more. Blood welled in her mouth, flowing down the back of her throat and making her gag, until she turned her head to the side and spit it out. She was thinking this torture was a fate worse than death, but why hadn't he just slit her throat like the others, what was so special about her?
She was nothing special, no, just young and malleable. She could be molded into whatever was necessary. She was made aware of this within the coming weeks as the dark elf population below decks was whittled down to a handful, the very young and strong all that was left. They would be sold off to the highest bidder as soon as the ship pulled into its last port for the season. Xavria would be one of them, well, might be, if she lived long enough. The cruel extraction of her tongue and subsequent infection that settled in soon after robbed her of her strength and sickness prevailed. She could barely lift her head off her chest when food was brought, or water was ladled out. At last, the Captain, deciding to cut his losses, ordered the girl to be hauled up on deck and tossed overboard to be food for the fishes.
At last her brief life would be over, the pain would end and she would rejoin her family in the hereafter if she were lucky. Her frail body was hefted and tossed over another shoulder and she was carried up the steps to the deck and unceremoniously tossed overboard. Her body hit the water with a rather miniscule splash. She floated on the waves created by the wake of the ship as it passed, unable to lift her head, she swallowed several mouthfuls of salty sea water, causing her stomach to rebel and what little was left of the contents in her stomach rose up to be expelled from her mouth. The last thing she did before she lost consciousness was to cry out with all her heart for every god and goddess she could think of, and even those she did not know, to save her.
A bracingly cold wind buffeted Lucrexia as she stood at the side of the ship that was blessedly bearing her farther away from ‘home’. This trip in particular had been agonizingly long and excruciating in that her father had actually pretended to show interest in her activities. Fortunately, he was easily distracted. Drawing a deep, sea spray laden breath, her slender gloved fingers gripped the rail as she concentrated on compartmentalizing that part of her that she showed to her family. Amber eyes gazed out over the gray foam capped water, noticed the swells that forewarned of the storm ahead.
Chill rain drove tiny needles against her cheeks as she raised the hood to her cloak, the ship's crew coming alive behind her with preparations of what was to come. As she turned to retreat to her cabin, something caught the corner of her eye. Frowning, she turned back, eyes narrowed as she studied the growing swells. There, small but recognizable. A child this far out? She had to be seeing things. Drawing the small spyglass from her cloak pocket, she peered through it to the pale object bobbing in the sea. So it was. A body. A child. Pity. How unfortunate to be lost at sea and die cold and alone. But wait...did it...? Yes, a small pale arm rose from the water and seemed to struggle to hold on to life. All thoughts of ‘how’ and ‘why’ dashed from her mind, the noblewoman launched into action.
"Captain! Child overboard on the port side. Alter your course and put the longboat over."
"Beggin' yer pardon Lady Ouss'afin.... but ye must be seein' things. There be no other ships for miles and a body in these waters would be long dead and food for the fishes."
"Do NOT gainsay me, Captain. I own this ship. I said alter course for that child. You will do it, or you will see precisely how long a body can survive in these waters." Her voice crisp and cold with no leniency in it, the captain paled and gave the orders. As the longboat was lowered, Lucrexia turned to go below, calling out her own orders as she departed.
"Bring the child to my cabin. Bring blankets, hot water, wine and soup. And if it dies before it reaches my quarters, so will all the men in that boat." Reaching the relative sanctuary of her cabin, she shed her soaked cloak and lowered herself into the lone chair to wait. Unsure of what had come over her, she rubbed her brow. Mercy was never one of her strong traits; besides, it would have probably been more merciful to let the creature die out there than to try to rescue it. But something insisted she make the effort. With a heavy sigh, she lit the hanging lamp and waited.
Half an hour later, the frail form of the child lay swaddled in blankets, her head propped up by pillows as Lucrexia bathed her brow. It was quite obvious the child’s life was hanging by the proverbial thread, her flesh pale and clammy, her lips just beginning to loose that ghastly blue tinge as circulation began to return. The child trembled and whimpered softly, aching with the onset of fever that burned like an inferno through her frail body. For Lucrexia, it would be many long hours; perhaps days before she would know if the child would even wake from this state.
On the fourth day after her miraculous rescue from the cold waters that should have been her last resting place, Xavria’s eyes fluttered open and she saw for the first time the woman who was her savior, whom she would grow in time to call ‘mother’. She was apprehensive at first when Luci coaxed her to explain how she had come to be out at sea. With the loss of her tongue, Xavria had to show Luci by way of rather crude doodles what had become of her home and her family, and finally what had happened to her….
“Daydreaming again, Xavi?” Sadori asked with a bit of curiosity, stepping up beside her young charge, looking over the naked sword blade lying across her lap, the sharpening stone forgotten in her hand. The girl had come a long way, but she still had so much to learn, such as never letting her guard down. Especially if she wished to live to see her dream of becoming a knight bloom to fruition.