The Story thus far: After barely being allowed into
the city of Commodore’s Crossing the Elf who is also an Elf, Millraven Finn
Izzle has been pickpocketed, waylaid, and nearly talked to death. She’s found
that the people she was originally going to work for were going to use a
powerful magical artifact to take a turn toward the totalitarian, but just as
she was about to celebrate the loss she was informed that another, even more controlling and less tolerant group
has taken possession of it…
“So,
if I’m understanding you correctly,” Millraven began, “You want me to go and
retrieve the Blue Streak from this other, scarier group and deliver it to you
at the same time I avoid the council of ministry who are, by now, wondering
where the mercenary they sent for AND their precious magical artifact have
gotten to. Right?”
“That would be right.” Merrybelle
responded, and again Silas took over for her from there, “It is of the utmost
importance that the streak be recovered. The organization that currently
possesses it is, shall we say, less than savory and only their ignorance of the
language of magic keeps them from using it to fulfill their foolish and evil
aims.”
“Just who are these people?” Millraven asked, “You make
‘em sound like the Knights of the Hill or something.” Silas swallowed “That is exactly who they
are.” Millraven took a breath and
clenched her fist. She felt her nails drive themselves into her palm, nearly drawing
blood. She spoke through gritted teeth.
“I’ll take the job.” She said. Silas looked a little
surprised, “You don’t know all the details yet, they’re holed up in a set of
ancient ruins set up with traps, monsters, and all the trimmings. “
“I don’t care.” Millraven
replied, “The Knights of the Hill and I have a score to settle and if I can
thwart their aims I will. Being able to rob them of a few members is icing on
the cake.”
“Sounds like this is personal.” Brand Anlace said, “I’ll
be going in with you to deal with the traps. I need to know you aren’t going to
cost us our lives.”
Millraven glared down at the
Halfling “I’m driven, not stupid.” She responded “I know when to keep my
cool.”
Brand shrugged and looked at his fellow conspirators,
“I’m okay with it if you guys are. We can’t wait on this much longer anyway.”
He turned to look at Millraven, “However, I see the slightest indication that
your feud with the Knights is going to get in the way of grabbing the streak
and you can deal with the traps yourself, you dig?” Millraven nodded and looked grim.
The sun was setting; tomorrow
they’d travel to where the Knights of the Hill were keeping the Blue Streak of
Commodore Cramden. She was already tired
and not exactly appreciating the way the Halfling rogue was looking at her, as
if he were attempting to size up her ability or personality. She probably shouldn’t have seemed so eager
to take the job. She gave a mental shrug
and made her way to an Inn for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
Her day began early. Brand
picked her up fresh from breakfast and the two began to shop for supplies. They
left town with a week’s worth of provisions each and began the journey to the
place the Knights of the Hill were supposedly waiting with the Blue
Streak. Together they gasped as they
cleared the fog choked bowl that was Commodore’s Crossing and emerged into the
bright sunlight.
Brand walked beside her,
keeping up with her pace despite his lack of stature. Millraven studied him,
again feeling a bit odd that he was so easy to look at. She sighed at the fact
that his face wasn’t pasted on someone taller. She could not help but watch the
way he moved with an easy grace and speed that spoke of years of training
combined with phenomenal natural talent.
She found herself a bit envious, but also intrigued.
For the first few miles they walked in silence.
Millraven was actually kind of enjoying it, despite the dark and desperate
nature of their errand, though she could feel the tension building up in her
companion. The question all but visibly hung on the air. She couldn’t do
anything but wait for it. Finally he
took a breath and asked.
“So what’s with you and the
Knights of the Hill?” he asked, “I mean, they’re jerks and all, but you’ve
obviously got something personal built up.”
Millraven nodded and began to
explain, “They took my little sister.
They lynched her for being a half elf, claimed her “human soul” would be
‘Better off that way, without the stain of Elven blood upon it.’”
“Eep. Ms. Finn Izzle, I’m
sorry.” He said, frowning “Guess I put my foot in it huh?” Millraven shook her head sadly and
spoke, “My family and I ignored the warnings.
Sure the Knights of the Hill hate any thinking creature that isn’t a
human, and sure they hate human/Elf relationships most of all, but we thought
because my step father was the mayor of my home town that they’d leave us alone.
One of their greatest goals was the establishment of human self-rule after all
and we were the only town with a human at the helm.
We thought wrong. It was no protection. They
came upon us in the night like thieves, them and their effigies of their hanged
God of the Hill and they beat my stepfather to the point where he can no longer
walk, kidnapped and nearly sold my mother and I to slavers and hung my little
sister from a tree. She was 10 years old; young to a human, an infant by the
standards of elves and half-elves. I
think they should be wiped from the planet, but because they give to charities
and do positive things for pure human families they’re tolerated. Thus, when a
chance to legally kick their asses for something comes along I take it. Call me
Millraven by the way, please.”
Brand nodded, “A pleasure, though I wish our
meeting could have resulted from better circumstances. We had better slow down
here, those ruins are supposed to be right ahead. We need to be prepared before
rushing in.” Millraven nodded in agreement and then leaned against a tree,
reviewing her spells. Magic was dicey for those who were entirely dedicated to
its usage, Millraven had to take extra care with it, making sure her spells
were duly memorized and chosen to work with the steel that she wielded alongside
of mystic might. One wrong move or improperly spoken word could mean the failure
and loss of a spell for the day, or it could mean spell backfire which in the
worst case could cost her life.
Brand suddenly reappeared from
out of nowhere. He had slipped away so quietly that Millraven hadn’t noticed he’d
left. A grim look marred his handsome features. “You’ll want to take a look at
this.” He said before leading her to a hill and directing her to hunker down
behind some bushes at its crest. The camp was there alright, in that aspect the
information the five had received was dead on. However the ruined structures
were a lot more heavily guarded than they’d expected and groups of humans,
zombies, and other enslaved monsters patrolled the grounds with frightening efficiency. Even Millraven paled at the sight, but she,
like Brand knew that time was limited, they would, eventually get over their
distrust of the magical tongue and use the streak to erase any word that had to
do with any non-human race in any language.
Once the non-human races lost their titles and words they would become
non-entities and thus much easier and justifiable to destroy and humiliate.
Millraven steeled herself and
nodded to Brand. They’d have to be smart, quick, and strong, but that would be
no problem for either of them. Now it was only a matter of time, when dusk
approached and brought with it darkness, so would they sweep down, ready, if
not eager to complete their near suicidal mission.
Here is where our adventure begins in earnest and Millraven speaks about some of the tragedies that have marked her life thus far.
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