The Chronicles of Valen Ch. 05
“Disclaimer: Valen, Nathyrra, The Seer, and several of the other characters are the property of Bioware. If you’ve played the game, you’ll recognize them. The rest is the invention of my twisted little imagination, including Morrighu Badb and the goddess she serves.”
* * * * *
Imloth watches them and sees the intense look on Valen’s face. He runs toward Valen, who is now supporting a wobbly paladin on her feet, “Valen, what’s the matter?”
Valen growls, “That damned frog bit her and she didn’t know it was poisonous.”
Imloth says,” Wait here. I’ll get the Seer.”
Morrighu sits down in the middle of the floor and says, “Now I’m dizzy,” as Imloth rushes off.
Valen sits down with her and says, “Keep your hand down and your head up. You’ll be fine in a moment.”
She leans against him and says, “My defender, indeed. It seems I’m racking up quite the debt to you.”
She yawns and he says, “You can pay me back by taking down the Valsharess. Oh, and no sleeping for you. You must stay awake. Talk to me. You promised to tell me a story.”
She smiles, “And here I was thinking that the floor was looking particularly comfortable. What shall I tell you? I know that we agreed on no more seriousness. I know, my siblings were always a source of amusement. I’ll tell you about something that Arwydd said when my mother was pregnant with my youngest sister, Myfanwy.”
Morrighu giggles to herself for a moment, “My mother was fairly advanced in her pregnancy and Arwydd wasn’t very old yet, perhaps three or four at the most. She had asked my mother why her belly was so large and my mother explained that we had a new little brother or sister in there. My mother took Arwydd’s hand and put it on her belly and let her feel Myfanwy’s kicking. This became a daily ritual for the two of them. Right before breakfast, she comes in and tugs on my mother’s sleeve. Mother would stop whatever she was doing and Arwydd would put her hands on her belly and wait until the baby kicked. Some time later, one of my father’s friends came over to visit and this man was a bit too fond of his ale. He had a paunch and was sitting in a chair in my mother’s kitchen, speaking with my parents.”
Morrighu fights to keep a straight face, “Arwydd walks up to him and gently places both of her hands on his belly. She stands there, with her hands on his belly and waits expectantly. Finally, he asks her what she’s doing. She looks up at him, all innocence, and says, ‘I can’t feel your baby kicking.’”
Valen and the on-lookers laugh in spite of themselves.
The Seer rushes up and says, “Just hold still.” She casts a healing spell and Morrighu sighs in relief.
She turns to look at Valen, “Now you see why I asked you to join me. You have already proved your worth to me by protecting me from things I do not even know are dangerous.”
She yawns again and starts to rise. Valen rises to his feet and helps her up.
She curtseys to him and says, “If you have no objection, I think I will be off to bed. I would, however, appreciate your assistance with something tomorrow. Will you meet me on the practice grounds in the morning?”
Valen nods his agreement and with that she and Nathyrra are off to the women’s quarters.
Imloth approaches Valen, “So, what do you think of her?”
Valen looks in the direction that she has gone and grins, “I think the Valsharess is right to fear her. We had a long talk tonight and I think…I think the Seer might be right. All I have to do is keep something stupid she’s not aware of from killing her, like that damned frog bite. She’s smart about it, though. She told me that she knows she ’stands on unfamiliar ground’ and doesn’t know what the dangers are. She’s not afraid to ask for help when she thinks she needs it and she doesn’t feel like she has to know or do everything. All in all, it bodes well for us, I think.”
Imloth chuckles, “That’s not what I meant, Valen. Your military assessment of her is one thing. I mean, what do you think of her? Do you like her?”
Valen pauses, thinking and then answers, “Imloth, I don’t see how I can separate the two. Under other circumstances, yes, I would like her and would go out of my way to seek out her company. However, we are not in other circumstances. I don’t even know if I trust her yet. The Seer has pinned all of our hopes on her. If she fails, we may all fail. She did give me a promise that if she falls, her goddess will send others to help us, so I suppose we shall see.”
~*~
Nathyrra looks at Morrighu, “Did he kiss you?”
Morrighu laughs, “No, he did not. Nor would I want him to….yet. You’re right though, he’s adorable when he blushes. You wouldn’t think it with the way he stomps around in his armor, but he’s actually quite the gentleman.”
Nathyrra looks at her, surprised, “Really? I would not have thought it, either. So, what’s he like? Other than you, the Seer is the only one he really talks to, well, maybe Imloth.”
Morrighu thinks for a moment, “Hmmm…three words, polite, attentive, and sweet. He’s got a sense of humor, when you can coax it out of him. Mostly, he’s too busy trying to be serious, but he lightens up when I get him alone. He’s quite good company.”
Nathyrra wrinkles her nose, “I seriously doubt that anyone who’s met him in battle would call him ’sweet’ or consider him good company. I suppose I’ll take your word for it.”
Morrighu laughs, “He’s different when he’s away from everyone else. I’m not sure how to explain it. He smiles more and laughs more when it’s just the two of us.”
Nathyrra laughs, “Either that or you make him happy. I think he’d rather die than admit he likes you. He’s so concerned about the Seer.”
Morrighu laughs, “Yes, so I have gathered, Although, I think I have made at least a temporary peace with him on that account. I do hope that Rizolvir gets my under-padding ready soon. I’m ready to get started.”
Nathyrra looks at her curiously, “Where are we going? Wandering around the Underdark without a plan is extremely dangerous.”
Morrighu sighs, “I think we shall go to the Isle of the Maker first. I’m given to understand that there are golems there and I have some experience in dealing with golems. However, I think I’ll save that tale for the boat ride. I’d rather not have to tell it twice. Besides, it will help to pass the time. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go bed. I have to be up early since I promised Imloth I’d come and drill with the Seer’s guards. Now that I have my own armor back, I intend to give Valen a better run than I did this morning.”
Nathyrra grins at her, “That I’d like to see. If you don’t mind, I’d like to come and watch.”
Morrighu grins back, “You are more than welcome. I’ll wake you when they come to wake me.”
Nathyrra laughs, “You have a deal. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The two part, each to their own quarters.
The next morning, Morrighu is wakened by a knock on her door. She tosses on a robe and runs down the hall. She taps quickly on Nathyrra’s door and waits for a response.
Nathyrra calls out to her that she is awake, so Morrighu darts back to her own quarters and gets ready.
~*~
Valen, Nathyrra, Imloth, and the guards arrive at the practice grounds to find Morrighu kneeling placidly with her practice blades in her lap.
She rises fluidly to her feet and bows to them, “Imloth, Valen, if you would be so kind as to arrange everyone much as you were during my arrival in your temple, I would begin the exercise. I’m given to understand that some of you doubt that at least six of you would have fallen, so I would like to demonstrate. I’ve asked one of the House Maevir commanders to referee the exercise.”
Nathyrra nudges Valen, “She certainly looks impressive.”
Valen has to admit that the she does. The red and black trim on her golden armor, the black feathers that adorn her helm as well as her blood red cloak, all add to the effect.
He sighs, “There will certainly be no mistaking her for another.”
He moves into his approximate position and gestures Imloth and the guards to do the same.
Morrighu walks over to the referee and he puts a blindfold on her, checking carefully to make sure that she can’t see before she returns to her position in the center.
Nathyrra joins the referee off to the side.
Morrighu turns to Valen and Imloth and bows, “Shall we begin?” and assumes her stance.
One of the guards says hesitantly, “We didn’t bring practice weapons. These are all bladed.”
Morrighu laughs, “I am warned then,” but maintains her stance.
The referee calls the start and Morrighu moves like lightening. A few flicks of her practice blades and blue blossoms on seven of the guards.
The referee calls out, “Hold your positions!” and all of the participants obediently freeze. He wades in and taps those that have what appear to be fatal strikes.
They move to the side and take a seat to watch.
The referee returns to his position on the sidelines and calls “Resume!”
A few seconds later, he halts them again and removes the last of the guards.
Only Imloth and Valen are left to face her. Soon it’s only Valen.
Morrighu speaks, “So, what is our bet to be this time? Since you are so impoverished from buying my dinner, I will let you decide what my prize is to be for besting you.”
Imloth chimes in, “Valen, you must be very poor, indeed, if her appetite stretched your finances. She hardly eats at all. I could make you a loan, if you wish.”
Valen laughs, “Perhaps not at lunch, but she seems to make up for it at dinner. As for your prize, perhaps I should get you a frog?”
Everyone laughs and Morrighu says, “Hmmm….Doesn’t that mean you’d be basically my property? So how are you are at polishing armor and cooking? Interested in trading in that armor for an apron, are you?”
Everyone roars again and Valen taunts her back, “You would not want my cooking and I think the apron would look better on you, but it’s not drow tradition for you to get me a frog. We’ll have to think of something else. How about another story? You win, I tell you one. I win, you tell me one.”
Nathyrra is surprised at the good natured taunting between the two and says something to Imloth about it. Imloth replies, “They were like this the first time. The two of them seem to understand each other. It’s good to see Valen laugh so much. I think she’s been good for him.”
Imloth looks at her and says, “Do you have any idea of what she thinks of him?”
Nathyrra laughs, “We talked last night and she said he was ’sweet,’ attentive, quite the gentleman, and good company. Can you imagine? Our dour and forbidding tiefling is ’sweet.’ I simply cannot see it.”
Imloth laughs, “I told you she was good for him. He’s…different around her.”
Nathyrra frowns at Imloth, “Odd, she said the same thing.”
They watch the two of them circling each other, dodging and feinting, but no real striking as yet.
Morrighu calls out, “Are you going to strike, or just probe all day? I’m not going to give you an opening. You may as well get used to it.”
Valen growls at her, “Why don’t you attack?”
Morrighu laughs, “Don’t mind if I do,” and with that she presses her attack.
Valen finds himself driven backward before the ferocity of it, but he knows that her stamina isn’t fully recovered and wonders how long she can keep up the pace. He tries to turn her aside and finds that he’s unable to. She drives him relentlessly knowing full well that pressing her attack now is the only hope she has of besting him.
She sighs to herself in her helm, “Ye gods! I hope I never have to fight him. With his height, his reach is nearly double mine and his strength…”
Aware that she has her limits, he wishes to end the bout quickly. He tries an old trick to draw her in to the path of his flail, but she counters it neatly. Using the spring of the steel and the flat of her blade, she reverses the travel of the head of his flail.
To his surprise, he finds that he has to duck the head of his own flail. This gives her the opening she’s looking for. She uses her foot to hook his and take him off his feet. In short order, he’s on his back and she has her foot in the center of his chest and her blades are poised for what would normally be a death strike.
Valen lays there stunned looking up as the referee calls, “Hold!”
Morrighu removes her helm and looks at him, grinning, “So, perhaps that apron doesn’t look so bad after all?”
Valen laughs and grabs her foot, meaning to do a simple knockdown and says, “For that, you really are getting a dunk in the rothe beast’s trough.”
As he tries to throw her, she does something like a half of a child’s cartwheel and lands on her feet away from him. “For someone who intends to give me a dunking, you certainly seem to be laying down on the job.”
He leaps to his feet and makes a grab at her but she sidesteps him. She turns and sprints, relying on her superior speed to outdistance him and avoid a dunking. He’s off after her, right on her heels, his speed nearly a match for her own.
Nathyrra laughs and looks at Imloth, “Should we follow or do you think they’ll be alright on their own?”
Imloth grins, “I think that if we leave them alone, they’ll be rather better than all right. Care to help me drill the guards?”
~*~
Laughing, Morrighu runs in a random pattern attempting to shake Valen’s pursuit.
Valen, also laughing, follows her closely matching her changes in direction. He sees her hand go to her side and realizes that her stamina is finally running out. He puts on a burst of speed and launches himself at her, tackling her.
Still laughing, she falls to the ground pinned by him, “You know I really don’t want to be dunked. I just had my armor cleaned. Now that you’ve caught me, surely there is something I can do that will dissuade you.”
She flips over, still allowing herself to be partially pinned and he finds himself swimming in that smoky olive gaze again.
He sighs, looking into those eyes and runs a gauntleted finger down her cheek.
She speaks softly, “What prize would you have of me, Valen?”
He rolls off her and pulls her closer, cradling her against him. He sighs again as he feels her arms twining around him. He sighs again and brings his hand up, threading his fingers through her hair to cup the back of her head.
He kisses her gently on the nose, looks into her eyes for a moment, and then bends to kiss her. It starts off softly with him pulling gently at her lower lip with his teeth, until she responds. He feels her lips quiver and moves to cover her mouth with his. He feels her yield to his insistence and her lips part, allowing an opening for his tongue. He explores her, tasting her, continuing to deepen the kiss. Finally, he feels rather than hears her moan in response and he breaks off. He looks at her, chuckling.
She lays there looking at him, slightly dazed, her eyes unfocused.
He says, “Now that is what you should look like after being kissed properly. We will continue this…discussion after you have proved yourself against the Valsharess.”
She presses her forehead to his and looks into his eyes and says, “Why did you do that?”
She feels the rumble of him chucking again, “Because I felt it best to…declare my intentions. It has been pointed out to me that I am not the only one who has an interest in you. Come, we should get back before they come looking for us. I will tell you on the way.”
With that he releases her and rises gracefully to his feet and pulls her to hers.
They start walking and he explains, “Imloth asked me what I thought of you so I told him. Then he said, ‘That’s not what I meant. I wanted to know if you like her.’ I had to think about it to answer and the answer was that under other circumstances, my feelings would run to something rather more than liking you. Then after the whelp gave you the frog, Rizolvir, and I had a discussion that made me realize that your feelings toward me seemed to run to something rather more than friendship. Since you said that you thought I did not like you, I felt it best to…clarify matters. Confusion often leads to misunderstanding and I would not have any of that between us. Rather than spend a lot of words explaining, I decided that the most direct course to declaring my intentions and determining yours as well was simply to kiss you and see what happened.”
She spins to face him, grinning, “It is a performance you are invited to repeat often. If you wish to wait to do so, then so be it. It is your loss. My experience has been that any chance for happiness should be seized when it presents itself.”
He laughs and says, “Now that the air has been cleared on that account, tell me why you felt it necessary to put your foot on my chest? Surely you knew that I would try to throw you.”
It is her turn to laugh, “You are a hard man to read, Valen, and perhaps a bit dense when it comes to women. I have been trying to get your attention since I woke looking into those blue eyes of yours.”
“The marker I placed on you let me…,” she pauses as she struggles for the words, “get a sense of you. I don’t quite know how to explain it. You were…soothing. It was like balm on a raw spot I didn’t even know I had. Seeing that you were fatally handsome with red hair and blue eyes certainly got my attention. Finding out that you are nearly if not fully my equal in combat as well, you were really too much to resist.”
She gestures helplessly, “Even Feya, Macha, and Nemhain cannot match me. You are a rare thing, Valen.”
He blushes at her praise, “How does your goddess feel about….us?”
Morrighu laughs, “She approves of you. For the record, so do the other Three which is highly unusual.”
He looks at her strangely, “How would they know?”
She laughs again, “Because we are all bonded to the goddess, we can…sense each other, though her.”
She closes her eyes, “Macha is practicing. Feya is somewhere staring into a campfire. Nemhain is…well, I won’t tell you what Nemhain is doing,” and with that she colors deeply and opens her eyes.
Valen laughs, “You are even more beautiful when you blush. I must make a note to find new and creative ways to make you blush.”
She rolls her eyes at him but remains silent.
~*~
Imloth and Nathyrra watch as the two of them walk slowly side by side, back to the practice ground. They see Morrighu stop and turn to face Valen.
She reaches up and moves one of his forelocks behind his ear, smoothing it carefully. Imloth notes that when she turns back, she’s the one blushing and he chuckles to himself. He also notes the now shy glances that pass between the pair.
Nathyrra looks at Imloth and says, “They seem to have settled things without her being dunked.”
Imloth laughs and says, “Well, perhaps not in the rothe beast’s trough, anyway.”
~*~
Morrighu walks over to her helm, hooks a toe in it and kicks it into the air and catches it. She calls the first swordsman over to her and begins drilling him in how to counter her attacks.
Valen watches her appreciatively as Imloth approaches him. “As Nathyrra noted, she does not appear to have been dunked. How did you two settle things?”
Valen looks at Imloth and grins largely, “It’s private.”
Imloth nods, “Good, it’s about time you kissed her.”
Valen looks shocked, “I never said that.”
Imloth chuckles, “Why else would the two you come back here, you looking pleased with yourself and her blushing like a maid at her first dance?”
Valen sighs, “There’s not much that escapes you. However, I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention it to Nathyrra.”
Imloth chuckles, “The two of you have already caused enough gossip, I see no reason to add fuel to the fire.”
They turn and watch as Morrighu drills each of the guards in turn.
Imloth turns to Valen, “She really is lovely, but I don’t envy you at all.”
Valen looks puzzled, so he continues, “If you make her angry, she might just take your head off.”
Because of his respect for Brutus Stilus, Dalin De’ Vega would refrain from committing murder upon Damon Dea, and would sit back and let his heart break at the cruelty the one his eyes beheld suffered.
“Damn them!”
Harruseus Kwaltus {Harrus for short} sat beside Dalin De’ Vega. A lanky man who’s only real purpose was to provide weaponry for the militia of the Shaman nobles. Sooner to be expendable if anything.
His wife Sara Jasmien Kwaltus next to him served more than her husband did, in more ways than one. She was considered the whore of the entire court. Very few of the men in the tribe have resisted her sultry charms,… or if you want blunt words… her whorish offers of blow jobs and anal screws. The only reason no woman ever insulted her to her own face was for the obvious. She was wife to a noble.
“Damn them!”
On the far south end of the great table, sat Maximus Dol Maximus. Quite possibly one of the most powerful men in the world. Destined to be ruler over it all once this war was over. Everyone relied on him for expertise in war and battle. He was the only man, in fact, that Sabrina Kie Dou Mou would marry. She even made the offer and was excepted on demand.
She alone was the only person Maximus Dol Maximus had any respect for. Seeing as she would fight for whatever she believed, and stand for it even in the hardest of moments. To the point of committing murder…
As he always thought it should be… respect no one who fights and stand for other than what they believe in. Good or bad, right or wrong, you deserved no respect unless you stood by your convictions. He always thought that if Rasputina would just stand to her husband, then he would stand beside her out of respect, but seeing as she did not. His views came to be that she deserved everything she got from him for being an impudent being.
“DAMN THEM!” down came Damon Dea’s fists upon the great table with his loud hard voice echoing throughout the room.
“Calm yourself, Dea.” Came the order of Maximus Dol Maximus.
“How can I be calm when the Remuk is under attack!” Heavily breathing from his fast growing anger, Damon Dea stood from his chair and laid both hands upon the table. “The Goths stand against us. The Utites stand against us. The Nurbasus stands against us. And the Goddamn Yekiq stands against us!”
“We still have the support of the Daqualisies.” Came the soft voice of Brutus Stilus who always fought for calm in himself, even in Damon Dea’s outbursts.
Sabrina Kie Dou Mou intervened. “We always have the Manduks with us as well, we are in no real danger.”
“Uh, point of order?” Dillonus Kiek held his finger up, much to the disproval of the court. “The Goths are rather powerful… perhaps it would be best if we tried to stray from being their enemies and make them allies instead.”
“Dillonus Kiek.” Damon Dea’s normal routine of ‘nose-in-the-air’ attitude came into play. “Speak only when you have something better then your fantasies to share.”
“I agree with him.” Putina’s heavenly voice took stand.
“Do you now, my love.” Damon Dea mused and mocked.
Putina’s eyes stood down her husband as she returned his mocking stare and continued. “The Goths have always been powerful and quite agile. Especially when time comes for night attacks. Perhaps making them our ally would prove a much more interesting, if not, appropriate bargain to make.”
“She’s right.” Brutus Stilus agreed.
“The Goths are our best bet as far as winning this war. Why would we want to turn down such an opportunity as this?” He sat with a bemused stare at Damon Dea’s wife. Admiring her for the talent she inherited as far as intelligence goes.
“Tell me something, Brutus.” Jaysin sat back in a cocky manner as he spoke. “Do you want your children growing up worshipping the wrong gods and preaching a life of carefree in the darkness like some blood drinking, bastard or whore of the Goth nation.”
He stood up and started towards Dillonus Kiek, stopping to place his hands on the man’s shoulders as he carried on.
“They stand for morals that seem rather, well, out of the ordinary.” He knelt beside the man. “They preach against blood line bedding affairs. So to say, one cannot bed his own sister, daughter, mother even… Why would you want to place an alliance with a group of extremists like these? The type of people who probably eat their own kin in death? The kind that would live by foolish laws, and forbid the right laws? The type of people who find battles and gladiators to be a barbaric and wrong custom?…”
Squeezing Dillonus Kiek’s shoulder rather hard, drawing a massive amount of pain from the man as he laughed. “Must we align ourselves with a hysterical group of dreamers in the dark?”
“Well said.” Came a surprising voice.
When normally it was Damon Dea to agree with that man everyone knew to be his lap dog. A royal ass kiss, one might say. This time, it was the voice of Maximus Dol Maximus agreeing. A rather rare and unexpected turn of events to this court.
“There will be NO alliance with the Goths,” Maximus Dol Maximus stood, placing his own hands at his hips. “… nor with any of our enemies. If these bastards wish to even once be against us, what’s to say they will not do it again? Kill them all.”
“So!” Came Damon Dea’s voice. “Any objections.”
“Plenty.” Brutus Stilus spoke. “… but considering the truth in those words. I’ll have to place my hand in against myself… in favor of Dol Maximus.”
“Simple as always…” Damon Dea looked from person to person. “Give your vote with a ‘yea’ or a ‘nay’.”
* * *
Utterly disgusted and disappointed by the outcome of the vote. Rasputina Barrin Dea sat upon her knees in the garden her mother had taught her sow. Her mind in total astonishment over Brutus Stilus’s agreement with Maximus Dol Maximus.
“Gods willing… ” She thought ” …the Goths will beat them all and end this once and for all. ”
Her thoughts moved to the person she needed to keep in her mind to block out the rage of her modern life to date. Liana!… dear sweet Liana. How free she would be to love Liana if the enemies would only destroy her husband and the rest of the Shaman tribes.
Many time’s she considered running away and never looking back. Even taking Liana with her on this journey… but she would smack herself out of this fantasy when remembering one detail. Damon Dea, and the fact that he was a master hunter who would search the ends of the known world for her and never stop until he has his vengeance. She just could not let him do that to Liana, and she could just not bring herself to leaving her true love behind… as the saying goes and has always gone. What’s a girl to do?
Her mind was broken from it’s train of thought as a cruel husband came ever so charmingly, so much as a serpent you might say, into the garden his wife tended when alone.
“You truly are a pathetic woman, Rasputina.” He gave a cold hard cackle in her expense.
“You should know never to challenge my word.” Damon Dea kicked over a painted stone… bringing a twinge of hurt to his wife, for this stone was specially painted for her by her own mother once.
He looked coldly at her as she let her eyes stay upon the painted stone with all of her might. Her nerves giving her no comfort as she made her foolish attempt not to please him by staring her near tear eyes up to his.
“God’s only know why you sit in this ugly excuse for a garden all day…” He reached down and pulled a handful of lilies out of the soil. “… why, your mother would roll over in her gave if she saw what a sick little mess you’ve made of the beautiful work she tried to teach you to do.” Amusing himself as her brought the insults that dug the most into his wife. “Perhaps, in time. She’ll even forgive such a failure like you… maybe even beg forgiveness for even giving birth to such an ugly little harlot like you. What do you think, stupid?”
Putina simply stayed upon her knees, daring herself over and over again to kill this man. If not for him being made Supreme Chancellor of the Remuk Tribal of the Shaman’s, she’d be able to get away with such a deed.
“no words?” he jested.
She sat staring up at him, with no such words near her lips at the time. Her hate for this man boiled over like hot water in a cauldron. Her tears seeking to reap there way from her eyes.
“Dumb as you are ugly, you disgusting whore.” He sighed as he kicked more of the precious flowers away before seating himself.
“Did you see the way Dalin De’ Vega stared at you?” He laughed. “His tastes must be for the rodent foul women, if he be so obsessed over you.”
“I didn’t notice.” She whispered.
“Of course you didn’t you rotten fat pig!!” He glared harshly at her. “I don’t expect much notice of anything from you, seeing as you are dumber than a snail wondering into a river… God’s, why did I have to marry such a sow? The least you could do is cook something, and make it decent when you do it. Maybe mend my cloths, shine my blades, do something other than laze about using up my power and spendings like some useless romp of a fat sack.”
“I’m sorry I anger you.” She said in a sad almost sarcastic way, fighting back the tears that his insults were bringing.
Rasputina often kicked herself inside for allowing his hard words to make her feel so rotten deep inside. He meant nothing and was nothing, but still a wish kept it’s place in her. That if he doesn’t die, that he at least wise up and become a decent and loving husband.
“Look at you…” Damon Dea said with a slur of drunkenness. Which was easy to see, for he always drank and drank heavily.
“Sitting there on your knees like some kind of Goddamn fat old woman.” He slouched slightly. “Why do you make yourself useful and get pregnant already.”
“Perhaps it’s not me who is at fault for that…” she mumbled. “Seeing as it takes two to make something out of nothing…”
“What’s that suppose to mean…” He glared angrily at her.
“It means that you cannot even get your sword to rise and you expect me to have a child like it were some kind of miracle.”
“You BITCH!” he cursed allowed as the back of his right fist came thrashing across her face, throwing her down with a hard yell of pain.
“Why do you always challenge me like this? Huh!!!” He roared. “You think you’re so smart sometimes… well… fine… you want to see something that works. I’ll show you something alright you diseased whore!”
Her eyes wide in the horror they beheld as like a raging wolf, her husband Damon Dea came closer and closer as his garments began to shed more and more.
As accustomed to his beatings and rapes, each one still broke a hole in her soul each time one after the other was committed. This time however, a look was in his eyes as he came closer to her.
“Please!” she tried to beg.
“You make me one to blame for this sword not working!” He screamed at her, thrusting his sex into her face before breaking a clear close fisted punch into her gut. “Why should it rise for a fat ugly beast like you?”
With those cruel words, Damon Dea grasped both of Rasputina’s wrists and firmly brought her hands up above her head. Holding her hands with just his left, he reached for her dress with the other. With a terror filled squeal from the lips of his tormented wife, he began to rip the fabric from her body… savoring her struggles and cries with all his cruel heart.
“STOP IT!” she screamed aloud.
“Shut the fuck up!” He cursed again, crushing his fist across her face from body sides, tearing into her flesh with his knuckles. “Nobody would help and ugly slob like you anyway…”
With one final punch, leaving her breathless and near the edge of sleep, he released his hold on her and with his organ, he drove mercilessly inside of her.
{{Most people will tell you that all women feel a sick type of pleasure even though they don’t enjoy it, you know… they cum… well, I’ll tell you first hand that that is complete and utter bullshit. If those types of women do exist, then my heart goes out to them, because no woman would want such a curse to befall her and make it that much harder on her conviction. The average woman wont orgasm or even gain her juices when being raped… that’s a pack of lies.}}
Rasputina’s heart was once again being torn away from her while the hateful Damon Dea dove his sick and twisted sex into her womb. Driving tears of great discomfort and massive sorrow from his wife’s eyes.
She was once again losing herself to this cruel and inhuman torture that she dread every living moment of her life. All she could really do to escape is to remember that the following day, he would be leaving for the war, and prayers and chants of his death would be on her mind as she was alone. The even greater thought that made this night bearable for her was the face of her love Liana etching in behind her eyes…
“This will all be over soon…”She was thinking. ” It’ll all be over and turn out to be just a bad dream tomorrow… my clumsy self falling everywhere will be all it was. ”
Lies that her mind spoke to her conscious.
Lies that would remain in her soul with scorn.
Lies she would tell her only true love come the morrow.
Lies, lies, lies, as her husband raped her mercilessly.
V.
A shiver went through Putina’s spine as she felt the cool watered cloths gently getting placed over her face. Liana knew now that there was no doubt of this being foul play. She knew nothing of Putina’s life to decide who could possibly do this to such a wonderful girl, except for the husband who made her marry against her will… but as she wondered… what matter of husband would be so mean?
“Why wont you tell me?” she quizzed her lover again.
“I did.” Putina whispered.
“You lie to me.” Liana was near tears as she looked at the bruised and beaten face of her only love.
“I should leave.” Putina rose up suddenly… her back paining her, seeing as Damon Dea had done a fair share of torture to her body through out the last night.
“NO!” Liana cried.
“Why must you always become so hateful when I try to get you to be honest with me… what have I done? Do I anger you?”
Liana was now in tears… begging Putina not to leave and to just be honest with her for one time.
“You wouldn’t understand, okay?” Was the only excuse Putina could conjure in the heat of the moment from off the top of her head.
“Why?”
“Because…”
“Because?… because why?… just tell me.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes you can!”
“No!”
Sobbing harder now, Liana placed her arms around Putina’s body holding her tightly. “I love you, please tell me.”
“No.”
“My love…”
“No.”
“I beg you.”
“!!!NO!!!” With a hard shove, Putina tossed Liana sprawling to the floor with a loud hard crash. Her lovers head hitting harder still, to the point of knocking her out of her conscious state and into a dizzy dreaming painful but not existence.
Liana’s world was spinning before her very eyes as she tried with every ounce of strength she had to come back to a reality world. Her vision in the dark, and her heart thumping in her chest with every breath, echoing like grim laughter in a long dark tunnel.
“Liana”
Was the whisper she heard from a voice so soft that seemed so far away. Too far to catch with her hands as she tried so hard.
“Liana”
She tried again to reach for the voice with her hands, in vain but of course. She began to laugh when she remember that one cannot catch voices in their hands like shiny objects.
“Liana”
Liana decided to run towards the voice until she felt a fierce stabbing pain inside of her head. One that drew her out of her dream world and into a harsh realm where her pain was all that she knew…
“LIANA!” Rasputina was in panic and despair. Her fear clenching deep inside of her as she tried to awaken her girlfriend.
“Please wake up, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” She was sobbing incoherently as she cradled Liana in her arms and rub her face with water to rouse her.
With a sharp cry of pain Liana’s eyes shot wide open and looked about, trying to take in the scene before her with her head throbbing in massive amounts of pain that overtook her. Her eyes burning with tears that streaked from them into large rivers down her soft white cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, my love.” Putina was crying nonstop with her lover held firmly against her. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean it… I didn’t meant it!”
“Pu… Putina.” Liana whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Putina let out a mocking laugh before speaking. “Why?”
“I made you push me… I’m sorry.” She whispered.
“No…” Putina pursed her lips up against her lovers. “You never made me do anything… I was wrong, I’m sorry… you are perfect. So perfect. Don’t change… be you for me… I love you so much.”
Putina held tightly to Liana. The two lovers embracing in their warmth as the moment came to pass. Liana was barely able to do much of anything thinking in her pain, but she had forgiven Putina long before the deed was done. She felt safe and warm and loved in these arms that held her. And they did just that… they held her.
“Damn you Damon!”
* * *
As time cleared it’s path…
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Liana held her sobbing woman.
“I… I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me.” Rasputina was letting herself be cradled in Liana’s arms as she unburdened her life thus far. “I didn’t want you to cry over me.”
“Let me cry for you, my love.” Liana’s soothing voice came into Putina’s ears in a low whisper. “Let me cry with you when you need me. I wouldn’t love you so much if I was willing to let your pain be my pain, too.”
“Why do you care so much?” Putina asked her love. “Why do you love me still after what I did to you earlier?”
“It was upon the heat of the moment.” She answered. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt me like you did… it was an accident.”
“True…” Putina sighed. “…but I shouldn’t have let it come to that.”
“What’s done is done, and the past is past behind.” The two held closely to one another, savoring the warmth of being in one another’s embrace.
“Liana?”
“Yes, my love.”
“I must set out for return at dawn.”
“… I … I understand.”
“Please…” Rasputina begged. “Please let me make love to you tonight… for the morrow will be so cruel to me, I wish to take all of you back in my heart.”
“You need not ask when my body and soul, my heart and my love is all for and always will be yours.” She smiled with those lips that pierced the heart like there was never a smile such as.
Their garments released from their soft bodies, these two women lay one upon the other in the bed in which they shared their undeniable desire for. A Desire worth living for more than dying. They knew the true meaning to that.
Mmmmmm
Was the purr that came from behind the closed lips of Liana when she felt Putina’s hands lay upon her soft fleshed thighs. Her lovers lips making their marks upon her lovers knees, slowly upper as her fingers massaged themselves into the soft tender flesh they held called Liana’s firm thighs.
Ohhhh
Was the moan from the parted pillowy lips from Liana as her head turned softly to the left and then to the right of her. Her heat rising slowly from within as the kisses and suckles upon her flesh drove her nearer and nearer to her last faithful breath. The utter feel from her lover she had never felt before upon her body… an almost perfect want for what was in her.
Yessssss
Was the hiss that slithered from a groaning Liana. Rasputina realizing that she too wanted to possess what Damon Dea wanted. Only she knew she could have it from Liana without ever bringing harm. Her lips, her fingers, her breath, her tongue, all these and her love were more than enough to gain it. She knew she had her prize when her hot pink tongue slowly made it’s way into the sex of the blonde woman who was writhing beneath her touch. She savored the flavor that flowed with wanton juices from Liana’s place of birth giving. A place that solely belonged to Rasputina and Putina alone.
Hmmph!
Was the whimper that gave way to no more question as to weather her secret spot was found by the skilled and Goddess like lover Putina, as her fingers worked their way slowly in and out of her darlings channel tunnel of love. Her eyes staring lustfully up into Liana’s as her tongue made a slight tease upon the sensitive little tiny piece of sacred flesh that made a slight bulge from her confines.
“God! What are you doing to me?”
Was the plea that came from Liana’s words as her body slowly roused itself higher and higher to it’s multiple convulsions with a lovers touch. Driving the young girl man with deep dark lust as her lovers touch grew bolder and bolder to the likes even Liana never dreamed.
“Putina! Yes! Yes! Oh my love! Oh my God!”
Was the on coming shout of lust from the venom seeping from Liana’s lips as her hips, they gyrated up more and more into Putina’s face, fingers. Liana’s eyes staring glazed over into Putina’s as her body shook and drowned in it’s wanton sea.
OH! OH! OOOOHH! AHHH! “GOOOOOOODDDDDS!!!!”
Was the beginning of Liana’s multiplying orgasmic wake like a rocketing volcano. Eruption quaking the clouds she floated upon as the stars made notice before her very eyes. Her head spinning with her every cry and whimper for satisfaction from her Putina’s skillful touch. The quick pace thrusts of her fingers working their way in and out of her lovers pink folds, all the while, her tongue making little circles on the tasty nub that Putina’s lips found themselves suffering without suckling for. Putina’s eyes wide and on fire with the passion they witnessed coming from her darling innocent.
RASPUTINAAAAAA-HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Was the final call as her multiple quakes racked her body as if she were a rag doll made with cotton entrails. Her breasts shaking in their naked glory with time as Liana’s hips rose and fell, taking more and more of Putina’s touch, more touch and more touch. Her sex pulling and pulsing around their beautiful and wonderful assailant, making the most of an attempt to grasp any excess pleasure if possible. Putina losing herself in the vision of her darling innocents face grimacing and becoming crimson with the more and more fire within. Never once her mouth leaving the lower smile her tongue and lips and fingers had fallen so madly in love with.
OH “God!” OH “God”
Was the whimpering groan, turned tormenting moan of satisfaction that was so much guaranteed from the acceptance of her lovers tongue, fingers, and kiss. Liana’s body slowly calming from the long hard explosion that tormented her entire body for moments before erupting into an intense release that would last longer still in Rasputina’s hands.
Oh “My darling.” Oh “My love.”
Were the words of her appreciation spoken to her lover from between her legs. The lover would slowly crawled up with kisses lavished all over Liana’s tummy, up her soft breasts, her warm sensuous throat, to finally land upon the home they dreamed of nights passed… all was well and all was fine in their world at large.
“I love you.”… all that was left to say.
VI
“Mkala…!”
The young dark skinned slave spoke her name in answer to the Brutus Stilus as she stood upon his door step awaiting for him to take the message she held in her hands from her master.
“…Oh the house, Dea.”
Reaching for the message in her hand, Brutus Stilus nodded in response, taking a moment to admire the beauty of this young slave girl. He had rearly noticed her when she stood in waiting at the gatherings of Remuk in the Dea house. Only now did he take in the charm of this beautiful creature’s eyes, her full and sprouting light cocoa brown hair, her large heavy breasts swaying under her slaves garments, which seemed more like a loin cloth and just a little covering for the breasts. She was taller than most women, but still of a fair short stance.
He smiled warmly at her as he opened the message on a large piece of parchment in his hands.
Brutus Stilus’s face grew stern and unhappy in emotion as he read down the words written in the language that was related to that of the Utites. A Shaman tribe east of the Remuk.
“Who gave this to you? And do not lie to me?” He reached for the slaves arm firmly, holding tight as his eyes lock desperately upon hers.
“My master, I swear it!” She shouted in the sudden fear and surprise. “He read it and gave it to me to bring forth to you great Lord Stilus.”
With his heavy noble garments swaying in time with his movements, Brutus Stilus released the slave girl Mkala’s arm and began to march and pace in the entrance way to his home.
Brutus Stilus mumbled under his breath as he moved from end to end of his home, the Mkala still waiting in obedience for his orders. Fearing his rage that seemed to be building from within as he marched over the great hall, reading over and over and again, the message she was ordered to bring forth.
Again he looked to her and quizzed her. “Are you sure that is all your master wanted you to say to me?”
“Yes, Lord Stilus.” She answered.
“Repeat it again!”
Mkala cleared her throat before reciting the verbal message her master had ordered her to give unto Brutus Stilus.
“Now comes our great misdeed.” She began. “A lord Kwaltus and his kin have fallen to a Yekiq and Utites blade alliance. Now so no loses should be even more suffered, unite thy weapons upon your lands and join us for the rage we seek to punish at fourth night falling.”
She paused suddenly, taking air into her lungs as the Shaman Lord Stilus stared her down for the message she carried in it’s repeat.
“Let not the mourn for this blood shed be embraced upon, good cousin.” She nearly caught herself in a sigh at the word ‘cousin’. “For blood mourned means nothing to the world as known. We must unite our forces and strike upon the heavy hills that mean us harm when least expected. Not a one a many will stir from their slumber as out blades come for their heads. We are the victors of this outcome and there will be no stopping us… let the vengeance take flight.”
He sighed as he ran his heavy hands over his hair. Marching again over his hall with his thoughts running rampid within his brain.
” It just doesn’t make any sense!”
” Why would they murder Harruseus Kwaltus and his wife”
” Without even expected a full scale attack in defense from”
” Our forces? ”
” Why would the Utites send this message to Damon Dea”
” Before Maximus?”
” Why would he bother to even ask for our uniting upon”
” This deed when he himself cared nothing for the tribe”
” Of the Kwaltus?”
” Why?”
” ”
” “He looked again to the beautiful slave girl in his home. His mind reeling and racking at him as he paced through and through without. Trying to bring his understanding to the point.
“This has to be a set up. “He thought.
” This has to be something planned from within.”
” Damon Dea… ”
” He has something to do with Harruseus’s demise.”
” But how?”
” And why?”
” What could he gain by killing off one of the nobles”
” In our land?”
” It just doesn’t add up…”
” Maybe…………………………”
“Slave girl!” He snapped his fingers at Mkala, brining her obedient self over to his attention.
“Tell me of your master…” He began. “And feel free to be completely open in telling me for as you see, I’ll give no retribution for any insult or harsh mistaking of words. Please… tell me the type of man he is, as far as he is to you.”
* * *
{Aloft in the house of Dillonus Kiek}
“Fret not for me darling.” Dillonus spoke softly to his wife Cassandra. His oldest son standing beside his mother and two sisters and younger by three years, little brother.
“I’ll return at the dawning.” He assured them. “This business must be done before the sun set, otherwise, all hell will break loose.”
He chuckled at his way with words. Hoping to ease his families tension as they watched him pack his belongings upon his stallion before mounting.
Dillonus Kiek looked upon the near tear stained eyes of his family. Knowing their fear for his life, for they knew of the murder of the Kwaltus clan in the farthest eastern reach of the Remuk tribal kingdom. They feared his life and with great reason. His power was strong in this land and he would be a sure target if anybody else. His eldest son Garret Doflin Kiek held fast to his own sword as he was ready to battle any threat in the world… bringing an amused smile to his fathers lips.
“I return at the dawning my beloved family…” he smiled brightly at them all.
“FATHER!” Hephten Kiek, the youngest son called out as his father began to trot away on his noble steed.
Dillonus Kiek turned to his two sons who stood watching and waiting for his attention.
“If it comes time to battle… let us battle beside you.” Garret Doflin Kiek pleaded. Young at the age of sixteen. A year from his own marriage, waiting to join his father one day and be a real man at war.
“If it comes time to battle… my sons will be beside me always.” He answered with a hearty wave.
Dillonus Kiek road off to the entrance of his tribal palace before a sudden urge overtook him to turn and look towards his family. His heart battling within his chest to break from and take them all in his arms one last time this day before riding off. Instead, he simply called to them…
“My love to you all, my sacred ones.”
* * *
Dalin De’ Vega stood at the high peaks of his hill side home where he stared off into the world from day to day. Waiting for the ultimate dream come true to call his name… even in the midst of his pain as his home burned to the ground. Having earlier buried his mothers body.
He watched as his home in it’s throw of flames. Not knowing what force had come to his home and caused such a heinous mishap. His mother had been burned alive from the looks of it and his body was tense with anger for dreams of revenge upon the person or persons responsible for this. There would be a great debt of hell to pay for anybody suicidal enough to bring this curse upon him.
” Why did this have to happen?”His mind asked himself.
” What did she ever do to deserve this kind of end,”
” Oh my poor beautiful mother. ”
” How I have wronged thee…”
” Bringing you here when you did not desire to ”
” Dwell in this land any longer.”
” I am at fault for your life.”
As he scanned his eyes over the entire scene, only one thought came to him now. What of Rasputina? Is she hurt well… the same thing happened to the Kwaltus clan. Had the house of Dea been attacked as well?
Just then, a body came into his eye sight, coming closer and closer to him from afar.
Dalin De’ Vega reached for his sword and held firm to its handle, waiting to draw it upon this intruder, who looked very much to be that of a woman. No matter the origin. If this person coming had anything to do with this fire, they would surely die.
“Brutus Stilus!” The familiar voice called out.
“My dearest Brutus Stilus, you live! Thank the Gods, you live.” The voice was crying mercilessly as the woman came closer.
“SARA KWALTUS?” Brutus asked with a loud surprise.
The wife of Harruseus Kwaltus came closer to him. Her body covered in blood and scars, her garments ripped every which way. She looked the sight of a woman near death as she came closer.
“Sara Jasmien?” He asked again.
She had been sobbing endlessly as she stumbled into Dalin De’ Vega’s arms. Her body nearly falling apart from her as she collapsed.
“What has happened?” He asked her.
“Rape… they raped me.” She sobbed.
“WHO?”
“I don’t know… they were dressed in black cloaks” she was hardly breathing enough to speak these words. “They had their faces painted black…”
“Goths?”
“I don’t know.” She squealed in agony as his hands accidentally held firmly to her back, which had been taken to with a cat of nines. “They beat me and told me to tell the first person I see, that the war is coming to an end… they’ll be waiting.”
Dalin De’ Vega quickly lifted the young girl in his arms and carried her to his horse, where then they would mount the beast and ride to the house of Stilus.
* * *
“Help.”
” “Was her only thought at the moment, as she lay in a large bath of her own blood. Waiting to die… her eyes almost closed from how swollen they were. Her skin cut all over and bruised mercilessly.
Sakina Ulyeep. Lone mistress of the house Ulyeep had been ravaged by a horde of men in black cloaks and black painted faces. Not that of a Nubian slave, but as if the soot from a fire was covered over their white faces.
In her sleep she had been awaken and taken by this angry horde. Her world turned upside down in a short instant. No hope of it ending anytime soon.
Just as her heart finally settled down to cry from this extraordinary pain she had never known before, Sakina Ulyeep heard a voice from the distance of her bedroom chamber door. A shrill a fear over taking her at first, until she recognized this voice as that of a woman’s.
“Rasputina?”
* * *
Sabrina Kie Dou Mou had not been at her home when it burned down and all of her slaves and what was left of her kin were destroyed.
She had allowed herself to be taken in the bed of Maximus Dol Maximus. Tasting the enjoyments of lust from a man who like her was merciless and powerful… in no way to be defeated.
How she desired to be his woman. For only he had been worthy of her body and soul. He would become her key to ultimate power over the Remuk Shaman tribe.
………………………………………………………………
They had been awaken by guards yelling in the distance as invaders came to attack. Their naked bodies shinning in the light as they battled with their might against their assailants. Men in black cloaks, with their faces painted by the soot of a fire chimney.
The invaders even retreated, but not without murdering the adopted son of Maximus Dol Maximus.
The young and hard Fai Greiq Dol Maximus. The one who would one day be given all that his step father possessed inside. Murdered in his sleep, taken by cowards that would not fight a man face to face in real combat.
“Damn them all to the underworld!” Maximus had shouted to the heavens when he found his only step sons body in a bloody mess.
Sabrina however had been also enraged when she was told of her home being attacked the same way. Whoever had done this was in her mind, marked to die.
“They will all die!” Maximus Dol Maximus shouted from the highest airs in his lungs before taking his sword and marching from him home.
* * *
“Where am I?” Sakina arose with a start.
“Shh, careful my Shamness friend.” Came Rasputina’s soft soothing voice, as her hands brought a cool wet cloth to Sakina’s forehead.
“Where am I?” she asked again.
“You are in my home, darling one.” Was the answer she received.
Though Sakina Ulyeep would never wish to be in this god forsaken home of Damon Dea, she was proud to be serviced by one of such tenderness and care. How she loved the feel of those knowing hands, caring for the body that was ravaged by cruel and inhuman men.
“Have they hurt you too, luv?” Sakina asked as her eyes widened to the cuts and bruises on Putina’s body.
“No.” She answered. “They did not attack us.”
“… but…” she stammered.
“They only attack the houses of Kwaltus, De’ Vega, Dol Maximus, and Kiek.” She told the ravaged girl. “… and of course, yours.”
“But you are hurt like I am.” She strained to say in her pain stricken state. “If not them, then who…”
The realization came to her, that the husband that was so hated by many had done this to his own bride. How Sakina hated him for hurting such a beautiful dove this way.
“Why did they attack all of us?” She asked… uncomfortable and unable to think of anything to say in this matter.
“I don’t know.”
“Are they all dead? The ones attack?” Sakina asked.
“No…” Putina whispered as she lay the cloth down and held herself up above the girl. “Not all of them?”
“Who’s alive?” she asked.
“Sara Jasmien Kwaltus.” Putina answered. “She was ravaged by the hordes too, but many consider it a joke.”
“Just because a woman is easy off her feet at times.” Sakina spoke. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t say know at other times. No is no, no matter the person.”
“Yes.” Putina answered.
“Who else?” Sakina begged to know.
“Dalin De’ Vega.” She sighed. “That poor man. His home was burned when he was away, and his mother was murdered in that fire.”
“Yee Gods,” Sakina moaned.
“Maximus Dol Maximus lives, but his step son was murdered in his sleep during the attack…” Putina lay beside Sakina. “Kie Dou Mou was with Dol Maximus at the time, she lives.”
“… and what of the Kiek’s?” Sakina Ulyeep asked.
“Dillonus Kiek had ridden off to the Stilus house as requested.” Putina’s voice became grave inside. “While he was away, his family was taken. His sons beheaded. Their bodies impaled on iron spikes, their heads impaled near them. His wife and his child daughters were ravaged and hung. His home was left standing so that he may see the deed as it truly was when he arrived… he hasn’t moved or spoken a word since then… I’ve never seen a man hurt so much.”
Both women were in tears over this deed, knowing what a warm hearted man Dillonus was. He had not deserved this at all. Nor his family for that matter.
“How long ago was all of this?”
“You’ve been sleeping for two days now.” Putina told her. “The hordes did all of this just in hour spans apart.”
“Dear Gods!” She sobbed.
“It will be avenged.” Putina assured her.
“Yes! Those tribes must pay for this cruel attack.”
“No!” Putina said sternly. “Not them… the one who is truly responsible for this will pay… not the goat that was blamed falsely.”
* * *
The great dinning hall of the Dea house was filled with those who still lived and were able. A number of empty seats stood as a consistent reminder of the terrible tragedy that had befallen this tribe Remuk.
Dillonus Kiek was in his seat, but his face had no emotion, nor did he make any movements. Only tears that streamed from his eyes without sniffle or sob. His head hung low as his soul died slowly inside… the act of vengeance was not within him, for he had no power to move. He was simply, … … there… …
Brutus looked to Damon Dea and Jaysin Riek Sine. Wondering why he and these other two had been spared. Why the horde had not come to ravage Rasputina and burn this house to the ground. Why Riek Sine was left to live when he was an essential kill to make, much like Brutus himself was. Why only those who had no real power in the war, and the one who had ALL of the power.
“My friends.” Damon Dea spoke solemnly.
Maximus Dol Maximus, Sabrina Kie Dou Mou, Jaysin Riek Sine, Dalin De’ Vega, and Brutus Stilus all looked up to the master of the house.
“I give my greatest condolences for this inexcusable crime upon you all.” He laid his hands upon the table and spoke softly. “I… I grieve for you. My friends, my kin as tribesmen. We were attacked by a terrible horde of Goth soldiers, sent to us by the Utites, the Yekiq, the Nurbasus, and of course, the Goths themselves. Soldiers of the tribes we had an alliance with have come to fight beside us, as their masters had all been slain, not sparing one life. The Daqualisies and the Manduks have no lords anymore. Just their people willing to fight for the cause of avenging these terrible sins against us ourselves, and them of course.”
Sara Kwaltus had entered the room and taken her seat. Though she had been beaten severely and ravaged, she was indeed in deep desperate anger and had wishes of vengeance herself.
“To be right to the point…” Damon Dea continued as the widow of Kwaltus sat. “The time for action is now. We must… unite, and we must… fight these terrible people and take what should never have been theirs. We must attack when they least expect us to. And that time comes to us on the second night from this night. We must not let this go unpunished. Retribution is ours now, and this must be taken in hand and brought to a hard fast end. I pray you now, embrace me. Tell me the word I need to hear from your lips. To say that we may attack them and end their tribes and reign of power once and for all. To punish the crime against your families.”
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