Pieter couldn’t help but swallow nervously as they slowly moved through the dark forests near Lathatabar. He still wasn’t the biggest fan of the “city’s” new name, but he was even less a fan of being pressed into service driving wagons for the foraging parties that were sent out at night. The mountains they had landed in were frigid, and while the Red Wizards were finally pulling their weight in managing the farms, there were still only pitiful yields, and if anyone wanted to eat, they needed to scavenge. Even the prayers of the priests of Lathander, new and old, yielded only the barest of essentials, as if the Dawning Light himself had been weakened by the new world.
While the forests around the city were plentiful, there were always dangers hiding in the trees. Strange, human looking, but almost goblin-like creatures ambushed solo hunters to the point that it was a standing order for all foragers to go out in groups of two at minimum. Unfortunately, they couldn’t go in large parties anymore either, at least not during the day. Several groups had already vanished, and rumor was that the winged-things had eaten the foragers. The thought sent a shiver down Pieter’s spine, and he gripped the reins more tightly, trying to just stare at the familiar comfort of the back of a draft horse’s head.
The man beside him chuckled, then spat to the side of the wagon.
“Loosen up young’in. If’n ghouls were gonna gitcha, there’s plenty of wizards that can dig some up for ya.”
Pieter’s lip curled and he glanced at the man with a look of disbelief. He’d been paired with the white-haired man a few weeks ago, and still hated all of his uncivilized mannerisms, especially the bouncing in his leg that made his crossbow rattle.
“Don’t pretend being out here doesn’t make you nervous Kalf. You were there yesterday when only a horse came back with half it’s neck gouged out. Something did that, and it came from here.”
“And if that something were around, do you think we’d still be seein’ so many lights?” Kalf asked.
He pointed a dirty finger into woods on either side of them, and Pieter did find some comfort in seeing the flicker of torches and lanterns lighting up the dark. They’d been milling about on the path for over an hour, but hunters had started trickling in, with most making light as soon as they had their catches. Already the wagon was half full with game and gathered fruits and vegetables, but it wasn’t filling fast enough. He hated that they went at night, but it was the best way to avoid the winged creatures, and since the human-goblins only attacked those by themselves… He was as safe as he could be outside the walls of the city. He still wished they would run for home. Walls existed for a reason.
He snorted and faced forward.
“I don’t get why I have to be out here. I was a slave trained in washing feet, and it was a safe position that I’d much rather be filling than this one.”
“Like you didn’t get beat like all the rest,” Kalf scoffed.
“I did my job, and my master was kind, not to mention wealthy,” Pieter said. “Now he’s dead and I’m “free”, but here I am, being thrown to the wolves with nothing but a rusty sword and some fat old man who, frankly, stinks. At least with a collar around my neck, I had a warm bed, hot meals, and I could bathe regularly, and, there was no risk of me being eaten.”
“All so ya could be better at washing feet,” Kalf said. “Sorry youngin’ but there’s no escaping bein’ a slave. If it ain’t some wizard or merchant with his coins, it’s the rumblin’ of your belly. You’re more’n welcome to go back, but you know what th’ Lady’s rules are. Ya work, ya eat. Simple ‘s that.” He laughed and slapped Pieter’s back. “And she don’t need a foot washer!”
As the man laughed like he had told the world’s funniest joke, Pieter felt another shiver run up his spine. A few leaves spiraled down from above, landing in his lap, and his eyes shot up, wide and alert as he looked for something moving in the trees. He found nothing, but the sound beside him fell away. For his many faults, Kalf was always aware of his surroundings, and Pieter felt mildly pleased that his wariness had sparked the same in his comrade.
“What’cha see?” Kalf whispered, his eyes also scanning the dark above them.
“Leaves fell,” Pieter said, holding a few that had fell in his lap. “They’re green still. Something knocked them down. I also got a chill. Might be nothing though.”
“Never doubt yer instincts boy,” Kalf growled, rising to his feet.
The man drew a bolt from the quiver next to his seat and loaded it into his crossbow. The guards quietly standing around the wagon watched as the man stood, silent for once, in complete focus. He scanned the branches above them for a long moment, then raised his crossbow and fired. Everyone waited in silence, and more leaves fell as the bolt cut through leaves until it thunked into a branch thick enough to halt it’s momentum. They all continued to wait, totally still. Pieter held the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes still scanning the trees, not daring to take a breath in case it triggered an attack.
After a few precious, long moments, Kalf grunted and lowered his bow, then plopped back into his seat. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief as he spoke.
“Might’ve been some new forest critter,” he grunted. “Don’t worry about bein’ jumpy young’in. Better jumpy then dead.”
“Well, I think if everyone takes a breath, we can be relaxed, and alive,” a third voice said from behind them. Pieter and Kalf whirled around to find the smiling, tattooed face of an elf, easily identified by his pointy ears. He crouched, balanced on the rear of the wagon, his arms resting on his knees. The elf raised both his hands away from the hilts of the scimitars gracing his waist.
“No need for alarm gentlemen, I’m just here to ask for your quiet surrender while my friends round up the rest of your foragers.”
Pieter’s eye twitched as he saw a torch in the distance vanish, followed swiftly by another. As the lights closer to them began to vanish, he faintly heard the alarmed cries of men being set upon by unseen monsters. He gulped and looked to the elf, who met his eyes, still smiling.
“Just lay down your weapons my friends. I’m sure we’re not actually enemies, odd circumstances and misunderstandings have just made it appear so. Just lay down your weapons and come with me peacefully, and I’m sure we can get you some better fare then-” he looked into the wagon, then grunted and shrugged, then smiled at Pieter again “-well actually, I could use some squirrel. I’m afraid our hosts are going to spoil me fat with all their delicacies.”
“Hands up elf,” Kalf growled.
Pieter looked to the man to find him again standing, his crossbow already loaded with a fresh bolt.
Gods, he’s fast when he wants to be, he thought.
The elf spread his hands, still smiling as met Kalf’s eyes.
“No need for that friend, I’m just trying to help. The gryphons are a friendly, civilized people. They just need to be assured you all don’t mean war, and if we can talk, maybe arrange a meeting with Lady Tatiana, then we can discuss settlements, and farms, and all the joys of a nice, peaceful society.”
His smile took on a nervous look.
“Wouldn’t you rather have that then be put in the dirt? Because I assure you, that bolt won’t land. I know you’ve heard of Kathranis Shadowsong, Blademaster.”
“Aye, I ‘ave,” Kalf said. “Also heard what you’n yer kin did to Galdug. He wants yer head. Says ya can’t be trusted.”
“Galdug’s an ass, and in all fairness, he attacked me,” Kathranis said. “What happened to him was self-defense.”
Kalf aimed the crossbow directly at the elf’s heart.
“So’s this. We need the food, and yer not stoppin’ us.”
Pieter watched as the elf seemed to wilt. Kathranis kicked his legs out and sat on the back edge of the wagon, his boots resting gently in their already-gathered-bounty.
“I apologize then,” Kathranis said with a sigh. “This will not be pleasant unfortunately, and I only had until they finished with your compatriots to convince you to come peacefully.”
Pieter looked to the forests around them to find that all the lights had gone out. Only the light of the torches around the wagon pierced the darkness now, and he could almost feel it closing in around them as still unseen figures moved in for the kill. He reached out a hand to yank on Kalf’s tunic.
“Maybe we should hear him out,” he said quickly, his eyes scanning the trees around them. “Kalf, it’s just us-”
He yelped as a boot met his face, and he fell backward in his seat, clutching his face in pain.
“You might be fine with washing feet boy,” Kalf spat, his eyes on Kathranis, “but some of us would rather die th’n live like rats.”
Pieter looked to Kathranis to find the elf still wilted, but his eyes narrowed, a hand on the hilt of one of his swords. Pieter looked back up to Kalf, who’s fingers strayed dangerously close to the trigger of his crossbow.
“Kalf, don-”
The man vanished in a gust of wind and a screech of steel. The guards around the wagon similarly found themselves snatched into the air, their weapons left in the dirt as they were carried through the trees and into the air above. Pieter shivered as their cries of panic filled the air, but after a moment when he found himself still on the ground, he looked around, wondering why he had been spared. He found only the elf, once again smiling, but now standing. He stepped carefully around the food in the wagon and extended a hand toward Pieter.
“Come on, up you come. Let’s get you somewhere warm and with some food.”
Pieter stared at the hand, then felt a rush of shame as he thought of Kalf’s… He supposed they were Kalf’s last words now. He didn’t want to die, definitely didn’t want to be carried off by some man-eating beast. He had to get away, had to run for his life to get the message back to the city. The first step of that was getting away from the elf.
He drew his sword in a swing, forcing the elf to dance back to avoid getting cut by the chipped blade.
“S-stay back,” Pieter stuttered. “I’ll fight too. Y-you can’t take us all.”
Kathranis sighed, looking mildly irritated as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I keep saying it, but you’d love the gryphons,” he muttered. “Stubborn as mules, the lot of you.” He threw his hands up, then met Pieter’s eyes. “I apologize, but this, you have brought on yourself. Valan?”
Pieter sensed movement behind him, but didn’t even half-turn before the pommel of a sword slammed into his temple, sending him falling into blackness.
****
Pieter awoke with a gasp, then a groan as a pounding in his head made itself known. He tried to bring his hands up to rub at his eyes, but found that they stopped half-way up. Blinking his eyes open, he was forced to squint as a brilliant blue magelight floated in the air just above his head. Looking at his wrists found them bound with rope, which was in turn tied to the stone table sitting before him. He looked around, found that he could see the edges of a stone cell. He’d never seen the inside of a cell, but as far as the rumors he’d heard about prisons went, he thought it at least looked clean and well maintained. He shivered and wished he could rub his arms. The cell could stand to be warmer though.
As he pondered that thought, the door opposite him slammed open, and a strange looking human-looking creature walked in. What appeared to be fur covered her face, and a spiraling horn poked out of her forehead. The creature, he guessed it was a she given her somewhat soft looking appearance, sat down in a chair before him. She had a slight smile as she spoke in a soft, comforting voice.
“I’m glad to see you awake. I trust your head does not hurt too much?”
Pieter stared at her for a long moment, then managed to stutter out a reply.
“N-no. Or, not that much. The light’s too bright.”
The creature clicked her tongue, and her horn glowed with what he assumed was magic. The light drifted higher and dimmed slightly. She smiled at him again.
“Better?”
Pieter licked his lips nervously, but nodded. His head did feel far better without blinding light right in his face. Briefly he wondered what exactly what the creature was, and how she could speak Common so fluently, but he dismissed both of these questions. In his time in servitude, he’d seen his master summon all manner of demons and devils that could learn Common at a moment’s notice. No, the important question was what did the creature want. He was in a cell for a reason, and as the pain faded and his mind became clearer, he remembered just how he came to end up in a cell. The elf had taken all of his… well, he hesitated to call them friends, but they were familiar, and though he wasn’t treated the best, he certainly wasn’t abused by them. Not to mention that all of his human compatriots still spent the time to make sure he was fed, warm, and not out of his mind insane.
This creature though, she wanted something else. It was clear she was going to interrogate him, and though he was sure he couldn’t last long, he had to at least try. For Kalf’s memory.
“Would you like something to eat?” the creature asked. “A blanket perhaps?”
Or I won’t last at all, Pieter thought as another shiver ran down his spine. A blanket and whatever could be served hot sounded like heaven.
“Both please,” he mumbled, looking down with a touch of shame at being so easily broken. “It’s freezing in here.”
The creature smiled and folded her hands on the table.
“I can have both brought to you, I just need to ask you some questions first.”
Pieter shifted in his seat.
“Of course, but I’m afraid I don’t know much. I just got assigned to the wagons because I can work well with animals.”
“Just answer as honestly as you can,” the creature said. “Now, let’s start with who you-”
She was interrupted by a somewhat muffled scream that set Pieter’s skin crawling. The creature looked mildly annoyed at the sound, but with a deep breath she began to speak again, only for Pieter to blurt out;
“Who are you torturing? Is it Kalf?” When the creature didn’t respond immediately, Pieter leaned forward. “You need to stop. He’s just a stubborn idiot, but he doesn’t know anything either! He can barely drive a wagon, let alone keep secrets. I mean have you smelled him? I promise, he’s not hiding-”
“Let’s focus on what you know,” the creature cut in, her smile visibly taking on a forced look. “Then maybe I can get you a hot meal and a blanket, yes?”
Pieter’s mouth felt dry as her veneer of hospitality disappeared. He sat back uncomfortably in his chair, doing his best not to think of the mystery scream as he nodded up and down.
“Ok,” he answered meekly.
The creature let out a sigh, but her smile became a touch more genuine looking again as she started again.
“Who do you serve, Pieter?”
“How do you know my name?” he asked.
“You’ve been asleep for some time,” she answered. “And while we haven’t learned everything, we’ve learned enough.”
The answer was cryptic, and it left Pieter’s mind racing. He certainly hadn’t told her, not consciously at least. Had the guards already given him up as a martyr? Had Kalf? No, the man was a fat slob, but he was loyal and if his… friend, would remain loyal, then so would he. It wasn’t in his nature to resist, but Pieter had to try, if only to take heart in the knowledge he hadn’t caved immediately.
“G-Galdug the half-orc,” Pieter stuttered out.
This time the creature’s smile dropped completely, and she let out a long sigh, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.
“Pieter, I thought I told you to answer me honestly.”
“I am being honest!” Pieter said. “Galdug gives out all the orders, and he punishes anyone who steps out of line, and-”
The creature held up a hand, motioning for Pieter to stop. The creature then took a deep breath and leaned forward, fixing him with a gaze that stared into his very soul. Another scream split the air, this one slightly louder. The creature tapped her fingers on the table, not even flinching at the bone-chilling screech.
“That can be you Pieter, or you can tell the truth and receive comfort. Which will it be?”
Pieter swallowed.
“I always take orders directly from Galdug.” The creature’s tapping froze, and another scream filled the air, louder than before. He couldn’t help but blurt out; “But he takes orders from Lady Tatiana! Please, just sotp torturing him, that’s all I know!”
The creature smiled.
“That’s better. Thank your for your honesty Pieter, let’s keep to that, shall we?”
The screaming fell quiet, and the creature shifted in her seat, smiling at him.
“Now, you have been honest with me, I will be honest with you. I know a spell that well tell me every little thing you know.” She leaned forward, still smiling at him. “I’d very much like to use that so we don’t have to waste any more time. With your permission, I will cast the spell, and then we can get you that blanket and a hot meal.”
Pieter shivered under her gaze. Her words were honeyed, he knew that, especially given how quickly her attitude had changed when he’d lied, but at the same time… She had so far been truthful with him. He just had to make sure that he’d survive whatever information he gave up. She was his key to that. She was the key to no more freezing wagon rides, to no more jerky and moldy bread. He swallowed, meeting her eyes.
“I— I want to make a deal first,” he said.
The creature’s smile seemed to widen and she inclined her head.
“That is fair. Speak your terms, Pieter.”
“I want good food and drink, like a proper roast, and ale!” he said. “And a proper bed, no must pile of hay.” He panted slightly, but his mind was alight with desires, and his brain forced more words from his tongue. “And something to read, and hot bath!” Glancing down, he found that a bath alone would not be enough. “And some new clothes,” he added. “Or at least a wash for these ones.”
“That can all be arranged,” the creature said.
Pieter smiled, then thought about the silence filling the air, thought about what had come before. He was being selfish, only looking after himself. He could hardly be blamed for that, given the situation, but still, at least one request for his fellow humans couldn’t hurt.
“And no more torture!” he blurted. “I hate hearing it, and it won’t work anyway. Most of them were soldiers anyway, they won’t break under torture.”
“They won’t, but you will?” the creature asked.
Pieter squirmed in his seat.
“Probably,” he mumbled. “Just, learn what you need and don’t hurt anyone else, alright? Please?”
The creature’s smile took on a wicked glean.
“You won’t hear a thing,” she said. “And I promise, no body outside this room will be hurt. You have my word.”
Pieter nodded slowly, not liking the look in her eyes, but not really having much other choice. She… still looked trustworthy, and if it brought him luxury and his fellow humans some peace, that had to be enough. He gulped.
“S—so how does this work?
The creature’s horn began to glow, and she pointed it at his forehead.
“You will feel a pressure, simply let it pass,” she answered. “If you try to resist, try to fight it, you will be in pain. Just take a deep breath and let me in.
A small green ball of magic left her horn and floated toward him. Though every instinct told him to fling himself away, Pieter leaned forward, hoping his physical submission would help the creature’s magic work. The ball of magic floated into his head with a slight tingle, and the creature smiled.
“Very good, now a little deeper…”
Inside his skull, Pieter suddenly felt an immense pressure. He tensed, but, remembering her words, he did his best to relax. He let out a long, shaky breath and screwed his eyes shut as the pressure intensified.
The pressure became more and more intense until it all at once vanished. Suddenly he couldn’t… do. Think. It was all… difficult.
Then in a great rush, he was back. Pieter took a gulp of air, then set to coughing as the creature leaned back in her chair and sighed, holding her head.
“Nothing useful in the surface thoughts and a magic block toward the core.” Her eyes flicked up from the table as she tapped on her temple. “Oh you poor little creature, what to do, what to do?”
Pieter felt another shiver race down his spine, this one not at all related to the temperature.
“D-do?” he stuttered. “I did what you wanted. I, I was open and-”
“Shut up,” the creature snapped. “I played along as my princess ordered, but I won’t tolerate your inane babble if you won’t give me what I need.”
Pieter recoiled as she shot to her feet, kicking the chair to shatter against the wall. He yelped as she grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward so that they were nose to nose. Pieter quivered in place as she growled in his face.
“I have not failed my lady once, not when she was a warlord, not now that she is a princess, and I have no intentions of failing her once she is queen. You will not stand in my way human. Now beg, weep, do what you will. I will have the information my queen requires.”
Pieter tried to yank himself backward, fear filling his chest, but the creature’s grip was ironclad. Another green ball of magic left her horn, and as it entered his head. Pieter began to hyperventilate, waiting for the pain to start. Tears filled his eyes as he stared at the creature, who simply stared back with a determined glare. The glow of her horn intensified, and he felt the same pressure as before. It faded quickly though, and for a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. Then it began. It started as a tickle.
Pieter began to scream.