Tristeza
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jun 1, 2009
1. Burning coals
She was viciously dragged by the neck across the floor leaving trails of dirt, muck and other assorted sources of grime across the polished white marble. Her captors pulled her chains along unceremoniously like a wild beast, giving her no room to get on her feet or otherwise straighten herself into something other than gasping mess. Not that the heavy binds keeping her wrists behind her back or her ankles restrained to each other did her any favors either, but as far as these men and their lord were concerned this captive deserved nothing but the worst treatment. Else, she'd already be dead. After all, she did murder, maim or otherwise humiliate hundreds of the fief's soldiers by herself, and lead the other warriors of her comparatively small tribe of savages into a guerrila type warfare that nearly decimated the lord's forces. After all, they were expoliating them from her home for a bunch of shiny rocks. Who wouldn't fight back?
The court of onlookers watched in awe, some disgust and a secret kind of fascination at the creature that was being presented to them clad in little more than the bloodied, filthy remains of her light leather armor, barely covering anything other than her private bits. She was a savage in their eyes, and the lord ordered nothing be done to take that edge away. If not for the obvious curves of her top and bottom, they'd most likely doubt she was even a woman! After all, where the finely raised lady had milky smooth, unmarred skin, hers was a dark olive etched in nearly black fang-like tattoos across her back, arms and legs. Even on her face, to their shock, she sported one fang across each cheek, from her eyes almost to the jaw-line. While a proper lady had a soft and supple body, untainted by the vileness of physical labour, hers was clearly toned, like a lioness primed for the hunt. The lady kept her hair silky and perfectly coifed, hers was reduced to a raaty, caked dark cocoa mess after continuous days of persecution without rest. Even her eyes, albeit a shining green as brilliant as freshly rained on grass, made the nobles flinch at the pure rage they held. If she was human was still up for debate.
Someone was quite obviously parading about the courtroom, jovially boasting about some exploits when she finally skidded to a halt beside the soldiers, nearly falling nose first on the hard ground when the chains fell limp. They didn't want her filthying the precious carpet after all, the servants would already have a hell of a time cleaning the rest up. At least now she could breathe properly.
"We have entered a new age, my loyal subjects, for we have finally secured the source of dreams! It was a long and harduous battle with the savages, but our kingdom is now in possession of the lands with the biggest known concentration of Crystal Aether of the known world!" The charming voice swooped the crowd, snatching enthusiastic applause while the girl tried to regain her bearings. All she could tell from under her mess of a hair were a pair of perfectly polished boots circling around before her. Ah, this should be the foreigners' so called lord or king. The one responsible for her grief. She glanced back over her shoulder, assessing the cuffs on her wrists and the distance she could stretch the chain. Maybe-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the violent yanking on the back of her head, lifting her off the floor by her hair. It took some effort to bite back the scream. On the other end of the hand pulling her was a confident, unapologetic face. Strong chin, smug smile, golden hair framing the face in a perfect wave and a pair of the second iciest eyes she'd ever seen, baby blue. By the strength of his grip and the width of his shoulders a trained military man despite the ornate garments and the golden crown on his brow.
"I present to you the last general of the resistance that stood between what was rightfully ours. Nia, the Fang." The king announced to the collective gasp. His eyes roamed across the girl's body unabashedly, further fuelling the quiet rage simmering within her. "Our greatest foe in this campaign, who would have thought it would come wrapped in such a package?" The snide laugh and sneer of the vassals followed the comment, as did the release of the grip, letting Nia crumple into the hard floor once again, curling into fetal position on her side.
The man continued his monologue, turning his back on her to further adress his followers. "Of course, I will not let the suffering of our people go unpaid! And you say, 'but sir! They have nothing to give!' And I reply nay! They do! They shall pay with their blood, sweat, tears and body, for the fairest will be sold as slaves and the rest will mine our Aether until their dying breath!" He glanced back just to point at the girl. "And as for that one, I, Allistair Ronald Crystin, will personally ensure her fate will know no rest, even after she begs for the sweet release of Death."
Absolute euphoria took hold of riled listeners, from the queen and her attendants to the foot soldiers keeping guard over the prisoner. "Who's with me?" The king welcomed the cheers with open arms, basking in the adulation like a cat in the sun. Forgetting the huntress right behind.
She struck like lightning, fast and precise. In a flash, Nia jumped on the king's back and wrapped the chain linking her wrists around his neck as tight as her fury could muster, locking it under King Allistair's jaw before he could react and giving it her best shot to jam her knees into his upper back. The glee gave way into confusion and panic, the celebration cut short by screams of horror.
The soldiers that had brought her in had the first instinct of grabbing the lines connected to her neck and yank them, but it did little to deter the girl turned assassin from her aim. She would go down, but he would come too! Each yank only served to further shake the king's foothold under her tenacious grip as he flailed trying to get her away, his skin quickly growing redder and redder as the iron dug further into his wind pipe and the pressure on his spine mounted. Just a little more and it'd snap like a dry twig, and then she could go in peace, nothing lef-
Something cold hit her back and all the feeling in her body disappeared, hit by a sudden wave of numbness and weightlessness. Before Nia could puzzle it out, a second bolt of blue light followed. The world went blank.
She was viciously dragged by the neck across the floor leaving trails of dirt, muck and other assorted sources of grime across the polished white marble. Her captors pulled her chains along unceremoniously like a wild beast, giving her no room to get on her feet or otherwise straighten herself into something other than gasping mess. Not that the heavy binds keeping her wrists behind her back or her ankles restrained to each other did her any favors either, but as far as these men and their lord were concerned this captive deserved nothing but the worst treatment. Else, she'd already be dead. After all, she did murder, maim or otherwise humiliate hundreds of the fief's soldiers by herself, and lead the other warriors of her comparatively small tribe of savages into a guerrila type warfare that nearly decimated the lord's forces. After all, they were expoliating them from her home for a bunch of shiny rocks. Who wouldn't fight back?
The court of onlookers watched in awe, some disgust and a secret kind of fascination at the creature that was being presented to them clad in little more than the bloodied, filthy remains of her light leather armor, barely covering anything other than her private bits. She was a savage in their eyes, and the lord ordered nothing be done to take that edge away. If not for the obvious curves of her top and bottom, they'd most likely doubt she was even a woman! After all, where the finely raised lady had milky smooth, unmarred skin, hers was a dark olive etched in nearly black fang-like tattoos across her back, arms and legs. Even on her face, to their shock, she sported one fang across each cheek, from her eyes almost to the jaw-line. While a proper lady had a soft and supple body, untainted by the vileness of physical labour, hers was clearly toned, like a lioness primed for the hunt. The lady kept her hair silky and perfectly coifed, hers was reduced to a raaty, caked dark cocoa mess after continuous days of persecution without rest. Even her eyes, albeit a shining green as brilliant as freshly rained on grass, made the nobles flinch at the pure rage they held. If she was human was still up for debate.
Someone was quite obviously parading about the courtroom, jovially boasting about some exploits when she finally skidded to a halt beside the soldiers, nearly falling nose first on the hard ground when the chains fell limp. They didn't want her filthying the precious carpet after all, the servants would already have a hell of a time cleaning the rest up. At least now she could breathe properly.
"We have entered a new age, my loyal subjects, for we have finally secured the source of dreams! It was a long and harduous battle with the savages, but our kingdom is now in possession of the lands with the biggest known concentration of Crystal Aether of the known world!" The charming voice swooped the crowd, snatching enthusiastic applause while the girl tried to regain her bearings. All she could tell from under her mess of a hair were a pair of perfectly polished boots circling around before her. Ah, this should be the foreigners' so called lord or king. The one responsible for her grief. She glanced back over her shoulder, assessing the cuffs on her wrists and the distance she could stretch the chain. Maybe-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the violent yanking on the back of her head, lifting her off the floor by her hair. It took some effort to bite back the scream. On the other end of the hand pulling her was a confident, unapologetic face. Strong chin, smug smile, golden hair framing the face in a perfect wave and a pair of the second iciest eyes she'd ever seen, baby blue. By the strength of his grip and the width of his shoulders a trained military man despite the ornate garments and the golden crown on his brow.
"I present to you the last general of the resistance that stood between what was rightfully ours. Nia, the Fang." The king announced to the collective gasp. His eyes roamed across the girl's body unabashedly, further fuelling the quiet rage simmering within her. "Our greatest foe in this campaign, who would have thought it would come wrapped in such a package?" The snide laugh and sneer of the vassals followed the comment, as did the release of the grip, letting Nia crumple into the hard floor once again, curling into fetal position on her side.
The man continued his monologue, turning his back on her to further adress his followers. "Of course, I will not let the suffering of our people go unpaid! And you say, 'but sir! They have nothing to give!' And I reply nay! They do! They shall pay with their blood, sweat, tears and body, for the fairest will be sold as slaves and the rest will mine our Aether until their dying breath!" He glanced back just to point at the girl. "And as for that one, I, Allistair Ronald Crystin, will personally ensure her fate will know no rest, even after she begs for the sweet release of Death."
Absolute euphoria took hold of riled listeners, from the queen and her attendants to the foot soldiers keeping guard over the prisoner. "Who's with me?" The king welcomed the cheers with open arms, basking in the adulation like a cat in the sun. Forgetting the huntress right behind.
She struck like lightning, fast and precise. In a flash, Nia jumped on the king's back and wrapped the chain linking her wrists around his neck as tight as her fury could muster, locking it under King Allistair's jaw before he could react and giving it her best shot to jam her knees into his upper back. The glee gave way into confusion and panic, the celebration cut short by screams of horror.
The soldiers that had brought her in had the first instinct of grabbing the lines connected to her neck and yank them, but it did little to deter the girl turned assassin from her aim. She would go down, but he would come too! Each yank only served to further shake the king's foothold under her tenacious grip as he flailed trying to get her away, his skin quickly growing redder and redder as the iron dug further into his wind pipe and the pressure on his spine mounted. Just a little more and it'd snap like a dry twig, and then she could go in peace, nothing lef-
Something cold hit her back and all the feeling in her body disappeared, hit by a sudden wave of numbness and weightlessness. Before Nia could puzzle it out, a second bolt of blue light followed. The world went blank.