Twists of Fate (Yuna & Alvis Alendran's 1x1)

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Crimson eyes gazed out amongst the city of Tethyr. It was once more lively and beautiful. But as of late, civil war had torn it apart. The same grace that used to reside in the mostly Elven city was now replaced with fear that bordered on paranoia. Mind you, it was all with good reason. But that didn't make the situation any less annoying for any of the residents, be it elves, halfings, or humans. Needless to say, Aowen was no exception to this rule.

A weary sigh passed her lips as a slight breeze danced across her skin. It was still autumn though winter was definitely approaching quickly. Hopefully it would arrive with a new sense of hope and good reason to keep the Drow away. Over the months ... no ... years, they'd been fighting against their dark-skinned kin. It wasn't too much of a surprise given Drown did tend to perform raids. What had taken everyone aback, however, was that they chose Tethyr over any of the two neighbors; Amn to the north or Calimshan to the south.

Not that Aowen herself wished for ill will to come to any of the bordering countries. But damnit all, why them of all the places?! It was incredibly frustrating. The fights had resulted in the Drow winning some and losing some. Of course, this was the same for the elves.

However, with her race staying above the surface, it was a bit harsher. Each fray resulted in more and more supplies being needed. Thus, at this moment, medicine, morale, and a few other things were rather low.

Even still, Aowen knew giving up would be the worst thing to do. Not just because it wasn't in her nature, but she'd hate herself as would her clan. Though to be somewhat fair, she cared far more for herself than the opinion of others. She'd been that way since her adolescence.

As another breeze blew across her light brown locks, Aowen moved a few strands away from her out-of-place red eyes. Those had been a good reason many of the elves were uncertain of her. Aowen was no fool. She knew one of the primary reasons they put up with her unusual orbs was because she was one of their best rangers and rogues. She was needed, damnit. The moon elf would definitely have the support of her parents .. if they were still alive.

An odd illness that no one had been able to find the cause to took them away from Aowen years ago. It'd been a tiring, but certainly not impossible, chore to raise herself. In the end, Aowen felt mostly confident on how she turned out. She was a bit more strict and uppity than most of the other elves. But honestly? That had saved her time and time again in the past. So as far as she was concerned, such mannerisms were the right ones to use.

Her head shook as she got rid of the flashbacks, focusing once again on the here and now. Her hands raised, pulling a hood up to keep her skin from getting too cold. A light brown cloak was around her, a matching tunic underneath. Black pants and sierra hunting boots adorned her lower body.

On the inside of her right boot was a hunting dagger. Her back, on the other hand, held a quiver and longbow. If she had to choose between melee and ranged, Aowen would eagerly take the latter in a heartbeat. But she'd already been in a few scenarios which hinted she would need to switch every now and again.

Rumors had gone around Tethyr that a raid was to happen sometime today. Most of the other elves had, for whatever reason, refused to heed the warning. As far as Aowen went, however, she had been ready since dawn arrived. The sun was starting to hide away which was a bit of a blessing and a curse. The threat seemed to be over; and yet at it's peak at the same time. These were Drow after all. No sane dark-skinned elf would dare try an ambush while the sun was around.

Thus, if something was indeed about to happen, it'd likely be soon.

Crimson eyes glanced quickly around before Aowen spotted a tree. Her hands reached up as she began climbing up. Most of the other elves had already gone back inside or were doing their daily routines. But not Aowen. She was getting ready. From this height and vantage point, she'd have an easy hideout and would be able to simultaneously spy on anyone who tried to come in or leave the city. That plus her expert aim with a bow and arrow made her all the more deadly from here.

One last sigh echoed as it mingled in with the wind. Her eyes closed for a few brief moments before they opened. Her hands moved back once again, this time taking a hold of her bow. She notched two arrows and got her fingers ready, grasping the string but not yet pulling back. She'd let them fly loose when proper targets appeared in sight.

Until then, she'd at least allow herself to get ready. During times like this, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Night was falling. And that was exactly what they had been waiting for. Ktonos del Valuken looked behind him at the hunched forms of the picked crew that he'd brought for this raid. Not like most raids, where multiple houses contributed men to the cause, this was purely from his own people. He needed men that would do what was needed, and when he needed them to do it. Ktonos was taller than most Drow, topping nearly five foot eight, and thickly built for his kind. Most of his people wore chain, carried light weapons, and fought fast and light. He wore hammered mithral plates, the breasplate armour granting a little more protection and fit him better than chain ever had. On his back was a rare weapon to be seen. An elven courtblade. Long, curved, and fearsomely lethal, it was a signature of his. He fought fast, but hard and powerfully, able to get through most opposition with sheer brute force. The sun had complete it's descent, adn he could still hear the sounds of gaiety from the city. As the clouds moved to cover the moon, it was time to get on the move.

Piwafwi close around him, Ktonos ghosted along the ground. His men were fanning out behind him. The first task was mayhem and distraction. Then it would be more about avoiding the main points of resistance for awhile, before they moved back in to do a few costly and harsh strikes. And then they would leave. But for now...it was time to make things happen. Ktonos moved his hands rapidly, the signs being read by his people. With a gesture, the street before them was suddenly shrouded in a cloud of darkness. The drow plunged into the mess, the shouts of alarm turned to screms of pain and terror. Blood was in the air as the soldiers ripped into the folk around them. A few slipped out of the darkness to pursue a few fleeing citizens, daring the lighted paths.

Ktonos moved into an alley, seeing what looked like a lone watchman, trying to rally people to him. Ktonos placed his blow, taking his head off at an angle, but turning the blade to allow the sudden jet of arterial blood to land on the flat of his blade. It was art, pure and simple. Slaughter and blood was the medium he chose to express himself in, and his people had applauded his work. An elf stumbled near him, and Ktonos swept his blade in a rapid pair of stroke, pruning the arms from the man, and kicking him away. He moved into more panicked citizens, lopping arms, legs, but at this point never a head. He left behind him a trail of screaming, mutilated forms. Mercy was a weakness amongst his people, adn Ktonos would do nothing to show weakness. He smiled, and plunged back into the darkness.

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Aowen's teeth gripped her lower lip as her ears picked up on the sounds of footsteps approaching. Sure enough, the damn Drow were approaching. An inward scoff echoed in her head. Well, she had tried to warn the people. But it didn't mean she would enjoy what was about to happen. Her hand shook in a mix of anger and fear as she began to pull back on the strings but stopped half-way. Their ears were as keen as hers. Even if it would take time for any of them to climb up, some of them could very well be mages. And with the possibility of one of them shooting her down and causing Aowen to fall - literally into their hands - that wouldn't be good. Her head bowed as she tried to think. So what should she do? Help out in some form or fashion ... right?

But then that would also give away where she was. Her grip on her lower teeth tightened as she slowly placed the arrows back into her quiver. Suddenly, this was feeling more and more like a bad hiding spot. And yet, it was one of the best at the same time. The view from high up easily spelled out that if she had waited in the village, she would have probably wound up dead. Each scream made her cringe and hold more tightly on the branch above her. Right now, she thoroughly hated herself. This seemed like the coward's way out ... well, it almost did. But Aowen knew better. Both rangers and rogues had one thing in common; they had to rely on stealth. The perfect chance would arrive. She'd just have to wait it out.

Until then, however, her eyes scanned below, taking note of the Drow. There seemed to be one in particular who stood out as their leader. The lack of women in this raid was ... interesting. Usually there were far more females than men. The priestesses had damn powerful spells. Tons of the scars on her back all but spelled that much out. Were they purposely keeping the women away? And if so, for what reason?

She definitely had full intentions of finding all of these answers out and more. It'd be risky, very much so. But this had been something Aowen had tried to insist on doing for a while now anyway. So she saw no point in delaying any longer.

Not too far from her hometown, the Underdark city of Ust Natha was supposed to be nearby. If she could follow them back and get answers, she could see about getting help. There would probably be several survivors from the village. On the off-chance that wasn't the case, however, she could likely get assistance from Amn and Calimshan. And with both having primarily humans who typically despised Drow as much as her kin, it'd be a hell of a turning point. Or it should be, at least.

Tempting as it was to follow the leader into the city and watch every action he performed, Aowen kept still. She'd wait for the frays to finish. When they did .. she would follow and infiltrate their city, gather all she needed to know, then head back.

The drow fighters looked to the main street where they could hear the rising sound of somehting more terrible than the screams. It was...laughter. A hideously amused laughter, rising loud and strong over the sounds of slaughter. The few guardsmen that had managed to assemble looked at the fading darkness and blanched at what they saw. a carpet of flailing, maimed people, blood pouring from their rapidly beating hearts. A quagmire of mud was behind the crimson stained warrior that held his long blade in both hands. He was...smiling, and as he swept his blade about to a ready position, his laughter began again. The watchmen assembled to face the warrior, but they were set upon from behind by his housemates. As the men fell under the stabbing blades, Ktonos ran a finger along the side of his blade, gathering a levy of blood on his finger. He licked the blood off, his eyes rolling back for an instant of ecstatic bliss.

He turned back to his men.
"We go. Fire the buildings. And then put this place to your back." The drow nodded, one of their number pointing and searing lances of flame shot out, each one touching off the building it struck. Soon alf the village blazed, and the drow made good on their escape, heading back into the plains.

Crouched low, piwafwis close, keeping themselves hidden from view, the drow left but a single casualty behind. The fool had been poor enough in luck or skill to fall, and they left him where he fell. He was of no concern any longer. They reached the entrance to the the Underdark. Ktonos waved his men through, and paused. He sucked in a deep breath, savouringthe chlll air, so unlike what it was like down below. He shook his head. the surface did have some draw to it, there were...reasons to linger. But not enough. He had tasks to perform back home. he folowed his men intot he tunnel, and began the march home.

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The sight of body after body collapsing onto the ground made Aowen's heart sink. This clan may not have been the best to her. But they were still elves when all was said and done. That was more than enough incentive for her to feel sad for them all. Even the one who was barely alive may as well have been killed. It'd be merciful as opposed to all he would have to suffer and endure. All the sights and sounds had made Aowen's heart and mind wildly race. Her hands were shaking as she forced herself to continue to hold onto the branch. If she let go ... no! She didn't dare think on that. The likely results caused a shiver to trail down her spine.

Her head shook as she looked down in time to see the Drow beginning to leave. She waited until she was certain their focus was on their destination before slowly climbing down. By the time the last Drow went through the entrance, Aowen was a good ten to twenty steps behind if not more. Anything that would have dared cause a noise; a branch, twig, leaf, any and everything were all avoided. The elf refused to step or press against anything that would alert the Drow of her being so close to them. The extra precautions were worth it. However, this did make Aowen move a bit slower than she would have preferred.

Thankfully, she was still able to keep up and see where they had gone to.

After a brief countdown from ten in her head, Aowen began to proceed. Slowly but surely, she got closer ... closer ... before she was inches away from the entrance to the Underdark. Her heart was pounding against her chest as she stared at the door. This was it; now or never. Still, she knew she'd come too far to just turn her back. More than that, her village needed help. If she didn't move forward, that would truly be more shameful than her having hid up in the tree and watching the massacre.

After allowing herself to take a deep but soft exhale, Aowen mustered up the courage and walked through. Her eyes blinked as they began to adjust. Low-light vision was all well and good but it wasn't the exact same as darkvision. When she was certain she could see fine, Aowen began to walk through. Now that she was in different terrain, the rogue and ranger made even more certain to keep her steps extra light, the volume matching. As her eyes continued to adjust, her hand moved back as she grabbed two arrows and began to slowly notch them upon her bow once again. This time, she let herself pull the string back. For now, however, her aim was kept toward the ground. She didn't to risk letting them fly recklessly. The accuracy of these shots would need to be dead on.

And that would be easiest to achieve if she waited a bit more. If Aowen let fear get the best of her, they'd be released too soon and ... well ... she didn't wish to think of the scenarios that would likely follow after that. Her head shook again as she continued onward, keeping her ears and eyes alert for any hints that suggested the Drow knew she was here.

Ktonos and his war party stalked along the passage, knowing well where each foot should fall to make the best time. They'd made the trip before. More than a few times as well. They were seasoned veterans at this task. The deeper in they went, the warmer it became, their infravision showing things more and more clearly. They were coming to a fork in the tunnel, one leading in a long curve to the west, the other heading to the north west, and sloping down much more steeply. He nodded to his men, and they passed through the northwestern tunnel, but one paused to rig a wire across the mouth of hte tunnel. It was low, very low, but set directly over the only clearly stable footing. It was a standard practice to leave something behind to ensure that nothing followed them. They were close enough to the surface that not much moved around here. The deeper they went, the more likely they were to find roving clans of goblins, or even orcs and more exotic creatures.

They continued deeper in, Ktonos noting that all of his men were in the right position. If anyone fell, someone else would note it. They were not going to suffer through any surprises. And they were making good time. ANother few hours, they'd reach one of the dividing points. A great underground lake. It was difficult to cross without he boats that were left in place to ferry peopel across, but not impossible if one was suitably determined. They picked up the pace.

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Aowen made certain to walk in time with the Drow, helping ensure that her own steps merely sounded as if they were just their own. Each time she moved forward, her heart raced and beat roughly. This was definitely intimidating, to be so close and simultaneously far from the same group of raiders who had just entered her home. Thankfully, the dark environment helped keep her concealed as did the fact Aowen was wearing dark colored clothes. She always kept herself pressed against the walls, using the shadows as a form of cover. When they halted, however, so did she. While the wire got set up, Aowen squatted down and watched the process. A slight frown crossed her face. They had done their research it seemed. Not only had it been placed well, but it tempted anyone to simply cut the damn thing.

And while Aowen did have the ability to do such a thing, the real question was would that be wise? Not likely. But if the best place to keep one's balance was being removed by the trap, it almost felt like there was little to no choice.

As her eyes moved from the wire to up a bit more, Aowen saw they had gone ahead. Dexterity was one of the natural fortes of any elf, thankfully. However, it was about to be tested. Her arms moved as she placed the arrows back once more. They then went out beside her. Even though Aowen wanted to get rid of the trap, she knew it wouldn't be the best option. If any of them saw it had been tampered with, it'd be obvious she was here. Simultaneously, the same would apply if she had bothered trying to disable the wire. It was one of those 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' scenarios.

It had been subconsciously done, but Aowen realized she literally held her breath as she stepped over the wire. There had been a few times she'd nearly tripped or made some of the rocks fall, signaling where she was. Luckily, Aowen had kept her footing and managed to continue the trek downward, still following the Drow.

The longer it continued, the more she felt her legs burning and aching. But her head shook no. She couldn't just forget about this and turn around. Aowen was definitely too far to just give up. Moreover, the chance of being found by trying to retreat would be much worse if she dared made any attempt to pivot on her heels and walk away. So she would have to keep going.

The path ahead, however, made her grip her lower lip in frustration. The sight of the water tempted her further to stop her pursuit. She had no idea what may or may not lurk in the waters and that alone could be so much more dangerous than the actual Drow themselves. Even if there had been any spare boats, that would give away for certain they were being followed.

Goddamnit ... she inwardly cursed before moving towards the water. After taking a deep breath, her right forefinger and thumb pinched on her nose. And then ... she slowly submerged herself into the water. Every time she went up for air, Aowen tried to make certain to create as few ripples as possible. At most, only her eyes and some of her hair would be seen. Even then, though, she tried to keep it limited to a few seconds before diving back under, repeating the pattern when the desire for oxygen became strong.

The water made her shiver and her nipples harden under the tunic. Despite all the obstacles, however, Aowen was determined to continue to focus on not losing the dark-skinned elves. She would follow them and get home successfully. These efforts would not be in vain. She was definitely ready to take any and all steps to ensure this much.

There was a good set of boats set out. Each one was crewed by only a single being, a Grey orc. Strong almost beyond measure, and surpisingly good at metal work, these beings made a good living ferrying people across the waters. They were also more than capable of defending their boat from anything that might threaten them. Ktonos had paid them well for their service. No one knew the lake like these orcs. Deft, quick strokes pushed the boats along the lake quickly. Ktonos took the time to look around. A glimmer of something on the surface of the cold water, and then it was gone. He stared at the point, only to see it reappear later, and then vanish again. A point of heat. And there was nothing in this lake that he knew of that was warmer than the water. Something was after them. The thought didn't alarm him as much as set his heart beating a little faster.

No real sport to be found in the village, only slaughter. Could it be that what followed them might offer a better round of entertainment? It was certainly an appealing thought. A smile on his face, he signed to his companions the news that they were being followed. They'd not make it easy for their pursuer, but they would ease their pace slightly. After all, it was of no use to anyone if they outpaced them completely. As teh boats ground up on hte opposite shore, Ktonos nodded to the grey orcs, who accepted his fee, and then reclined in his boat. Ktonos spent a moment with his men, making sure that they were in good order. A slight glance showed their pursuit was getting close. It was admirable really, being able to swim across the entire lake like that. He had to respect that. But he also knew that the cold waters would take a toll on the person as well. It might be getting pregressively warmer down here, but he knew very well that there was a section they were coming to that was almost blisteringly cold. They passed through a narrow tunnel that would lead to larger chambers, but within that realm was a white dragon. Ktonos felt no desire to face such a beast, but the area was ice covered because of it. A short break in that area might help push their pursuit to a more...desperate state.

They got underway again. The passage kept going down. It was another half hour of even paced movement before they felt the temperature dropping fast. There was a faint breeze, adn the tunnel moved to show an expanse of stone that was covered in snow. Ktonos led his men through it quickly, but he called for a halt on the far side. They'd wait here a few moments, take in a little food. And leave their pursuit to enjoy the climate change.

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A few times she'd snuck up to get air, Aowen's heart sunk. Had she been seen? During the short seconds her eyes could see above the water, it almost seemed as if eyes had fallen upon her. But the actions suggested she was fine. Still, Aowen kept it tucked away in her mind. With how they'd placed the trap so well, she wouldn't put it past them that they had seen her but were waiting. The fact she had skipped fighting seemed to be helping her out a bit also. If she'd been in the frays, her body would have been too sore to go through with this. What was equally amazing was the lack of creatures in these waters. Most held at least one dangerous ... thing. But she wouldn't begin to complain aloud. She'd definitely take any and all of her blessings.

A few times she peeked above the water, Aowen had almost sworn she detected .. cold? That made her frown slightly. Had she been led to a frozen abyss? By the time she got to the end of the crossing, it almost seemed like that literally could have been true. A shocked gasp left her lips as she pulled herself out, not wanting to freeze in the water. Shivers adorned her lips as she breathed quickly. Her arms held herself as they moved up and down.

"S-s-so-son ... of ... of a bitch!" she whimpered, forcing her eyes to look around herself. This trek was becoming more and more realistically impossible. Even if she got past this cold, what would be next? Why was it even here in the damn Underdark of all places? This was so annoying and confusing.

Even before her mind had finished thinking, her hands seemed to act. They moved away from her chest and pulled out what seemed like a normal bag out. After murmuring a command word, however, it expanded. As irritating as they could be, she was glad to have still gotten at least one bag of holding. There had been a few emergency items she'd hidden away. While this type of scenario hadn't been the reason she originally thought to purchase such a thing ... ah well. She was glad to have something.

After finding a new change of clothes, Aowen began to strip, grateful that no one else was around. This would otherwise look so out-of-place but she did have reasons behind it. Staying in the damp clothes would make her much more likely to fall ill. And given she hadn't yet completed following the Drow, it would be bad to abruptly become sick if not worse in here.

By the time she finished, it almost looked like she had never swam in the water at all. The only giveaway? Her still wet hair. But she could deal with that later. Once the last article of clothing covered her body, Aowen felt ... somewhat better. Not completely. The temperature around her was still incredibly cold. But at least the likelihood of becoming ill wasn't nearly as high.

Now came the real problem; had they gone the obvious route? She didn't see any alternatives. So it seemed obvious as to where she should go. Nodding to herself, Aowen began slowly walking forward, pulling the new hood up over her face. True, it may not matter soon. But until then, she'd keep any and every advantage she had. Compared to her pace in the beginning, however, Aowen had definitely slowed down. The cold hadn't exactly helped out nor was it doing so even now. In fact, she felt herself slowing even more, even thinking of closing her eyes.

"No .. " she murmured weakly, refusing to take a nap. That 'brief sleep' could easily become an eternal one. And that ... didn't exactly appeal to her.

"What do you see?" Ktonos signed to teh mage amongst them. The man smiled thinly, and showed him. An elf. Surface dweller. She...she had been tailing htem for a very long time. The viewing spell that had been tossed behind them had it's sensor high up, at the ceiling of the tonnel, and didn't show much detail. But the person was undeniably female as she undressed, and redressed herself, trying to combat the deep cold. Ktonos smiled, and the mage swallowed. It was not a smile that showed any mirth. It was the smile that promised that someone was going to suffer under Ktonos will. Sometimes it proved amusing. Other times...the depths of cruelties that the Weapon Master had visited was enough unnerve even some of his own house, who thought themselves lucky that he was on their side. And he was clearly planning something.

Ktonos thought of the remainder of the trip. The mage carried a scroll that could speed their passage home. But the scroll was expensive, adn not to be frittered away lightly. But if they had a prisoner...well, that might warrant the use of the tool. He moved his hands in precise patterns, the band moving forward to a rounded cavern. piled rubble lay everywhere, making rugged terrain to say the least. THe band moved through the area, setting out typically faint tracks of their kind, before moving to differing positions. Several of them enacted levitation, taking them into the air, adn pulling their piwafwi cloaks close to shield them from view. Others carefully picked their way along the piles of rubble, sinking into ambush positions. Ktonos still had the smile on his face. It was going to be a fun day.

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In between blinks, Aowen felt her eyes becoming more and more heavy. Her head shook as she dug her fingernails into her palms, forcing herself to stay conscious. "Not yet. Almost .. there ... " she reassured herself, reaching back and getting her bow and arrow ready. Even though this situation had a very likely chance of turning into a melee-focused one, she wanted to try to keep her range for as long as possible. If - no, when - the time to change tactics arrived, she would. But not before then.

The steps were beginning to feel longer and harder to go through with. Aowen was close to rummaging through the bag and using one of her teleporting scrolls. But finally, she saw signs, tracks that she was close. The adrenaline rush from the sights her crimson eyes had found woke her up. When the realization that the elf was very likely in immediate sight registered to her, she stepped back and hid behind a wall. It wasn't the best she'd had. But if she could keep even part of her body hidden away, it would force them to reveal themselves. And this did go back to the high possibility of enduring a melee encounter, yes. But maybe this could be turned around in her favor despite Aowen being in their territory, their land.

Think .... focus ....

Her eyes closed as she took slow, calming breaths. The tracks all but spelled out the Drow hadn't gone too far. And most elves knew the basics of their own enemies. Thus, there were probably some mages and wizards among the group. Even if their leader was exempt from that role, the ability to dwindle the numbers would help her out.

Her fingers slowly pulled back on the string, placing it parallel to her right ear. Her aim went up higher, more towards the ceiling. And finally, she peeked from around the corner, letting herself be seen for a bit. However, her guess had been correct as she saw that some of the Drow - mages or non - had indeed used levitation. Her aim had already been mostly in the right place. However, she adjusted it quickly yet efficiently as possible before letting go fo the string and allowing the arrow to fly towards one of the floating Drow. Whether it hit or not .. well ... she'd hear soon, maybe see the next time she peeked back out.

For now, though, she began notching another arrow. Now more than ever, she was glad her mother had given her this specific quiver. It was enchanted to never run out of arrows, blessed personally by Corellon Larethian himself. As she notched another one, Aowen pulled back yet again and prepared her ankles. They tensed up, ready for her to repeat the pattern of revealing herself long enough to shoot, hide to get another arrow ready, and repeat.

Their pursuit was...good. Better than he'd expected, and perhaps as good as he hoped. The arrow made a good flight, stirinking the shoulder of a floating drow. Breath rushed from the struck man, and Ktonos pointed. The mage amongst them hissed a few arcane syllables, adn waved a hand. The tunnel behind their quarry lit up with blazing light, a wall of flames filling the tunnel to prevent any kind of escape. A series of faint clicks came, small bolts from hand crossbows as they took shots at their prey. Ktonos and a few other stalked forward, Closing range. He knew that he was well shielded from arrows, so made no effort to hide his presence for the moment. He drew out his long bladed weapon, the light from the fire reflecting brightly on the lethal edge of the blade.

A few quick gestures had his peple in proper motion. One of them was crouched on the top of a rubble heap, taking careful aim. His handbow was different, a stack of three bolts held in place on the top of it, giving him more shots. The moment she started to swing out for another shot, he fired. And again. And again. Each bolt was highly unlikely to inflict much damage, but each one was tipped with venom that was made specially to weaken, or even subdue a foe.

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Truth be told, Aowen was only amazed to be doing as decently for one reason; the cold. It was an ongoing environment hazard. That being said, the longer this fight continued, the worse it'd get for her. Even as her fingers kept the arrow notched and held firmly, she could feel them and her arm trembling. She wanted to let go even though her aim hadn't been decided yet. Her head shook no as she bit upon her lower lip, fighting every urge and temptation that was trying to dominate her. "Goddamnit, no!" she hissed lowly, panting slightly as her head glanced up toward the ceiling.

It was around then that the fire showed up. Her crimson orbs studied the orange-red flames and inwardly frowned. Any and all opportunities to decide against this were pretty much gone. And she'd already fired, hinting of her location. Even if she desired to try to pull a scroll out and use it, that'd be reckless, possibly foolish. It'd take far too long to activate the magical parchments. And even if time wasn't an issue, there would be of having to constantly avoid crossbow bolts and other various weapons.

Speaking of .. those did indeed come into play. Thankfully, that had been a good reason she had chosen her tactic of using a wall for cover. The bolts would have to try to go past the barrier which, even if enchanted, was easier said than done. It it was doable, she knew. Aowen waited until the noises of bolts flying towards her died down if not completely halted altogether. When her ears detected little to no noise, she moved back out again.

No sooner than she let the second arrow fly toward the Drow she'd - apparently - wounded as opposed to kill, something else caught her eyes. Three small bolts. Her hand grabbed a part of her cloak, purposely pulling it so they'd fly through and rip the cloth. It mostly worked .. except for the last one which nicked her right arm, right above the elbow.

"Ngh!" The longbow deftly went over her back as she yanked it out. At least this one wasn't barbed, thank gods. She'd heard horror stories of such weaponry but had never run into anything. That was good, at least. It would have made pulling the small bullet out more of a chore than it needed to be. But there was the other infamous fact of Drow that she had known and was beginning to feel; the venom working on her.

"... Damnit .... " she murmured weakly, her pants and breathing becoming faster. As she began to reach for more arrows to notch, Aowen had to blink a few times. Why did her bow feel heavier all of a sudden? Wait ... that was part of the venom? It had to be. There were few other sources and she wasn't usually that frail.

A low but irked "Hmph," passed her lips as she pulled her dagger out from the boot. She carefully removed it from the sheath before slowly beginning to back away while still avoiding the fires. This hadn't just gotten worse; it had become no doubt one of the worst possible scenarios. While she wasn't fond of leaving her bow out in the open, there was no point in trying to take it with her, not if it was this heavy to her.

Maybe if she could try to wait it out? No, that was stupid. An antidote ... she needed one. Her eyes glanced slowly down to a pouch at her side. Didn't she have spare anti-venoms there? It was worth looking for.

Her right hand kept the dagger at the ready, her left beginning to work on opening the pouch; all the while, her eyes and ears tried to keep her alert for the incoming Drow.

Warrior he might well be, but Ktonos had always shown his mind to be...flexible when it came to learning things. The art of stealth had been easy to learn, and his piwafwi had always made it easier. But in this moment, he was glad he'd not bothered. His face still split wide with a grin, he shifted his stance and stepped around the rock wall. His blade was sweeping in at a harsh angle, the tip of the enchanted blade striking a line of sparks from the ground. The flames and the sparks gave him illumination to see her with plain vision, and he noted the look and shape of the elf before him. Oh, he was going to be able to enjoy this one, that was for sure.

"You've followed a long way from home elf!" He shouted as he moved in an attack. His blade danced around, three distinct feints the drew the eye easily before swinging in a wide cross swing, the blade turned so that that unsharpened back was leading. He had plans for her, adn he needed her alive for them to reach fruition.

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The sound of metal connecting with the ground and sight of sparks reflecting in her red eyes made Aowen look quickly up. Maybe her concentration had been too heavy upon herself? Regardless, she hadn't heard what she had noticed as the leader approaching! Worse off, he was literally all but in front of her! Her left hand pushed her backward, helping Aowen perform a backwards somersault. It wasn't the most in range. But it was something.

Weakened or not, his words had no doubt fueled Aowen on. Her eyes narrowed as she forced herself up to her feet, holding the dagger out in front of her as a way to block the incoming blows. "As did you given the hell you decided to spread to my home, bastard!" she angrily retorted, coercing her ankles to move. One swing became a second, a then a third. Each had a relatively easy timing to figure out.

However, by the time the last one approached, the venom had made her grip weaker than usual. So in the midst of placing her blade in front of her, it flew out of Aowen's hand and landed behind the Drow. The dagger had taken most of the impact, at least. But now what?

Part of her wanted to beg and plead for mercy. But she wouldn't let herself sink to such pathetic measures yet. Moreover, would he really listen? Not likely. The display she'd seen earlier all but proved that much. She glanced at the eyes across from her before slowly bowing her head, holding her arms up at her sides in defeat. As much as Aowen hated resorting to this, she did know her limits. More than that, she wanted to pass out on her own whim, not from this bastard or the venom.

At least that was her preference. Whether she got it or not would be another story. But perhaps if she cooperated ... well hell. It was worth an attempt.

SHe was fast, moving in a good pattern that Ktonos had to follow to keep up with her. A fight. A real fight. SHe was moving to parry each feint, showing that she was not without some skill in this area. The blade in her hand went pinwheeling away though, as the wound from the small dart had clearly made an impression on her. He widened his stance, ready for her move. She was cornered now, and would likely be at her most dangerous, ready to try a ploy of some kind to get herself...free...

She was giving up.

She. Was giving. Up. Ktonos had the sudden impulse to carve her chest open and rip the heart from her body. But he also knew that such an act would not salve his mood. His hand shot out, the back of his armoured hand crashing into the side of her face, and he shook his head. He'd been ready to take her seriously, a worthy opponent, one that was worthy of his time and effort. And she quit on him. It was simply not to be bourne. A twist of the hilt on his courtblade had a smaller blade extend from the pommel, a close fighting blade, adn he swept it up her side, ripping the cloth from her body. He tossed his sword to another adnvancing drow, and got a hand around her neck, pushing her back tot he rock wall she'd hidden behind. The look on his face promised nothing but misery. The wall of flames vanished, plunging them back into darkness.

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If Ktonos thought he was furious, that was nothing compared to her own inner wrath. It just wasn't as obvious as his own fury. But she was definitely angry, oh gods yes. First her home had been unnecessarily ambushed, then she got hit with a poisoned bolt, and now .. she had been forced to stop a fight. Unfortunately, her logic didn't try to switch around. She wouldn't have been able to do anything for much longer, not like this. The venom was still coursing through her blood and veins. The best fight she would be able to give him was one where at least the poison was gone. Surely, he knew that much.

A weak wince passed her lips as her back impacted with the wall behind her. The light ripping sounds made her realize he'd done away with her cloak and hood, allowing for Ktonos to see her hair and eyes much more clearly. Finally, his hand found her throat. A new sensation of desperation entered Aowen.

Gods, he's going to outright kill you, isn't he? Just like he did the others ..

The fear was enough to make her hands raise and try to slip in between his, pressing desperately against his skin as she tried to seek out any pressure point, any sensitive spot to hit and try to make him let go. Even if she deserved it, Aowen didn't want death. Especially not like this.

Her hands scrabbling on his own gave him a small surge of enjoyment. She was starting to fight back. And that was something that he valued. His men were spread out in a loose ring around them, ready to capture her if she managed to escape his grasp. It wasn't llikely, but they believed in being prepared. Ktonos shook her, glad of the armoured gauntlet he wore. She'd not find exposed points to loosen his grip, not through the heavy leather and mithril. He drew her towards him, and then slammed her into the rock. And then again. His free hand went lower to draw out one of the drow longknives that he carried, adn sweep it up her front quickly and without a second thought, slicing the shirt open, and leaving a faint trail of a cut on her skin.

The drow all grinned, loving the show that their leader was opting to put on. And once again, all of them were glad that someone this strong, this...dangerous, had opted to remain on their side, adn not stand opposing them. It would never end well for them. Only one warrior amongst them wasn't grinnig widely. He looked a little...disconcerted by the apparent violence of Ktonos towards this elf, and more importantly, the direction that the encounter seemed to be moving in.

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Struggled gasps and coughs were leaving as Aowen's hands continued trying to work frantically. But honestly, even just allowing the faintest amounts of oxygen to keep entering her lungs was greatly helping out. She'd prefer getting his grip completely if not very loose. But she could feel it; that was asking for way too much in her current state. Her head tilted back as she helped assist more air flow, helping her continue to breathe. Her eyes caught sight of the male Drow's. For a few moments, they were face to face .. before ...

Wham!

Her spine and the back of her head both impacted with the wall. A weak whimper and groan passed her lips. She didn't feel any blood, thankfully. But goddamn, that hurt like a bitch.

Wham!

She was tossed back yet again, making her cry out in agony, her hands and body trembling violently. Her head weakly shook from side to side as Aowen managed to weakly keep a few fingers in between his hand, ensuring at least some air was going to her.

"S-stop ... please .... " she pleaded, coughing a few more times as her eyes began to fight between opening and closing quickly.

Ktonos heard the faint croaking words as she seemed to be fighting for breath. The begging was doing nothing for him, well, nothing good. But he did release her neck, his hand finding a home in her hair. Holding a handful, he jerked her forward, kicking her legs to bring her to her knees on the stone floor. His free hand gripped the cut shirt and pulled it back, tearing the garment from her body. The bared flesh made his smile turn to a half snarl, but no one watching could be sure if it was anticipation or simple unhinged rage. Both seemed to be very likely with the weapon master. Ktonos bit down on the finger of a gauntlet, adn drew it off of his hand, freeing hte hand from it. He let the glove fall, and used his newly bared hand to slap the elf woman hard across her face.
"Thought you might stalk us? Bring death to us did you?" He hissed at her, his words in a flawless unaccented elven, as though he had spoken the surface tongue for a long time.

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More coughs and gasps left as her neck was finally let go of. The sense of relief was also one of torment. In exchange for being able to breathe freely, Aowen felt the agony switch from being choked to having her hair firmly held. Sure enough, her hands had remained up, trying to work on prying the fingers off of her brown locks. When the tunic was ripped away, she compromised with herself. Her right hand tried to pry his fingers away while her left covered her chest, hiding it as best as she could from the other Drow. Shame mingled in with the growing frustration and anger that had been swimming through her since they had stepped foot into her home. Not only was her mood getting worse, but her body was becoming more and more weak.

"Agh!" As the bite connected, her hand moved down, helping her other cover her breasts. Finally, the slap connected. Her head stayed turned away from the impact, partly due to not wanting to look at Ktonos again. Also, she was too weary, more so now that the adrenaline rush was dying down once again.

The Elven accent didn't phase her as much as it might have another elf. She knew Drow were capable of speaking the Elven tongue; it was just something they didn't typically do.

A weak smirk managed to cross her face as her head shook from side to side. "Not escort Death .. by myself, no. But yes at the same time."

"A spy. Come down into our place. And seek to try and kill us?" Ktonos half snarled. It was...amusing really that she was trying to maintain some sense of modesty by covering herself with her arms. His free hand went around her neck, and he hauled her to her feet. The blade of his knife went under the waist of her pants, adn he pulled. THe fabric resisted slightly, but the edge was razor honed, and backed with mild magics. The newly loosened pants came away with a loud tearing. "And do you now regret your temerity? THinking to stalk the drow in our own places? Have you any idea what is about to happen to you now elf?" Ktonos demanded, enjoying this moment. SShe was obviously not stupid, but there wass a certain amount of enjoyment in the way he was taunting her.

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Her teeth gripped her lower lip again as she watched and felt the blade slide down and near her waist. The leather fought back for a brief while. But soon, it fell away, revealing silk undergarments barely concealing her purities. Her one hand finally gave up trying to force Ktonos's fingers away from her flesh. Instead, they grabbed for the ripped cloak, holding it in front of her as a makeshift blanket. While it was partly a weak attempt to keep herself as decent as possible, Aowen was doing it much more for warmth than anything. As the new set of questions resounded in her ears, Aowen closed her eyes to reflect on them all. The strongest and most significant inquiry was whether she'd had any regrets or not.

.. Do you? she asked herself, staying silent for a few moments. Her chest rose and fell, hinting that even if barely, the ranger and rogue was still conscious. Finally, her head moved from side to side. As her eyes opened again, they looked up to Ktonos.

"Not exactly. I regret how things turned out, definitely. My actions though? No. I'd hate myself more for letting you leave and not trying to do anything. I have guesses ... none pleasant. Though to be fair, terms like 'generous' don't really go along with your kind. So I wouldn't expect such things anyways. If I didn't understand that risk though, rest assured ... I wouldn't have bothered coming here to begin with."

If he had any doubts, the tone her voice held - resolve despite the desperate situation she was in - would confirm to Ktonos her words were very genuine. Physically, she was exhausted, weakened, and close to being forced to give up the struggle. Mentally, however, was a completely different story.

Ktonos cocked his head as she spoke. Resolve. It was still present in her, adn that was a good thing really. He wanted to see some life in her. Though how long that would stay after he'd done something to...break her in... was open to debate. Ktonos was not a merciful creature. not by nature, not by nurture. He was a violent one, bred, born, and trained to take life, and it was his own inclination to revel in that action. He was a good killer. And was equally good at taking advantage of the spoils of his conflicts. Just like now. Ktonos nodded to one of his men, who swept the long courtblade out, slicing the cloak off, making it useless to preserve anything really. Ktonos spied an appropriate stone that would suit his purposes.

Not releasing her hair, he dragged her the few paces that he needed to toss her over the rock, stomach on the stone. A drow stepped to each arm, adn gripped it, pulling her tight over the stone as Ktonos snipped the silk undergarment from her with a smile. He reached around to find the clasp on his armour, and rest his finger on it, hissing a word in an arcane sounding tongue. The armour poppped loose, letting his loosen his pants, and bring them down. He grinned as his fished his member free, swinging around. His men all tensed, looking forward to teh show. Ktonos nodded to their mage, who stepped forward and dipped a small dart in a liquid, adn jabbed her shoulder with it. It was an antitoxin. It wouldn't cure her completely, but it would give some life to her. Ktonos did like a struggle when he was about to indulge himself. He pressed a hand just over her ass, keepingher pinned to the rock, while his fingers moved to explore her sex.

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Throughout the slow process of being stripped, Aowen wanted desperately to believe this was to make the cold worse for her. It did appear to be how things would go as her cloak was removed, leaving her with just the pair of panties covering her virgin entrances. All the while, as everything continued to happen to and around Aowen, she never let her eyes move away from Ktonos'. Blink at most but not once did she make her own turn away. She wanted to somehow show despite the massive amounts of disadvantages, she didn't want to give up yet.

Honestly, it almost seemed as if the Drow had done so for a while. Silence hovered over the two elves before finally, she felt herself shoved onto a rock. A weak cry passed her lips. Her body tensed up as her arms were held down. Instincts kicked in despite her wanting to pass out and sleep. Instead, Aowen jerked her trembling arms, trying to free herself from the other Drow. Suddenly, the very real fear that had been racing in her head was starting to become more and more real. And it was all but confirmed as the panties were removed and her nipples were kept in place, hardening from the natural temperature of the stone and cold.

"No! Please no!" A sharp gasp echoed through the cavern as his fingers found her slit. Her arms fought harder as she pulled and yanked rougher against the other Drow. Her leg raised as she kicked backward. In truth, it could make his fingers move away and she wouldn't care. Something, anything to keep this from happening would more than suffice. She'd prefer to hit his sternum or force a rib to puncture a lung if not his heart. But that was begging for too much.

That being said, she'd take anything she could get. Then again, it almost seemed like he had the same logic.