The winter snow had settled and the sky had cleared to an almost painful clarity. From the bedroom balcony Laurana could look out across the estate and an endless, perfect sea of white reflecting the full moon high above.
She rested her hands on the balcony railing, the faint sound of snow crunching under her gloved hands just barely rising above the sound of the festivities in the downstairs ballroom.
She looked
upward at the shining brightness of Solinari far above her and watched as her
breath plumed in the crisp air. It was
this time of the year when she missed
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” a poised voice with just the hint of sibilance to it said from the doors behind her.
“No, it’s fine,” Laurana said as she looked back at the Aurak draconian standing in the doorway, his hands tucked into his sleeves. The light of Solinari shone off his finely scaled head as he nodded to her and slowly joined her by the railing.
“I believe the guests are starting to miss their host,” he said as he joined her in looking up at Solinari.
“I’m sorry,” Laurana said. “I know I should spend as much time with them as I can. We don’t see each other as much as I’d like. Goldmoon and Riverwind came all the way from Que-Shu. It’s just this time of year.”
“You miss your mate?” Kazarss asked quietly.
“Yes, I
miss him,” Laurana said. “And I miss
everyone else who’s been lost.
“Your son still lives. And he grows more confident in himself and his position.”
“He isn’t
here though, is he? I know he can’t be, he shouldn’t leave Qualinost until his power is
secure. But I miss having him here with
me. Before…when
“I am sorry for your loss,” Kazarss said with a slow nod of his head. “I cannot know of your loss. We never celebrated the winter solstice when I was being trained.”
“Never? No one said anything about it?”
Kazarss thought in silence for a moment. “No, not to us. When I think about it, I remember that the guards and teachers were in better spirits this time of year. And they talked more among themselves. But nothing else changed. I realize that they kept up the training even on the day of the solstice now.”
“Now I’m sorry for your loss,” Laurana said as she laid a hand on Kazarss’s. “But you’ve got family now. I’m here and you’ll always be welcome in my home.” Laurana smiled. “There’s even Sylara. You’ll always be welcomed by her, even if it is because she needs money.”
Kazarss smiled. To someone not used to draconians or dragons it would have been threatening, even frightening. His mouth gaped and he pulled back the skin from his gums to show his teeth. “Sylara, yes, that’s another reason you should come back inside. She’s become far too intoxicated already and I believe she was making a scene with a knight.”
Laurana grimaced and bowed her head. “I wonder if there will ever be a time when that woman doesn’t want to get drunk and make a scene.”
“Only if she’s having too much fun to remember to get drunk,” Kazarss said as he turned to return inside.
“I’ll be right there,” Laurana said. “See if she’s drunk enough to put to bed for the-“ She stopped as something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. “By all the gods, what is that?” she yelled and pointed to the sky below Solinari.
Laurana heard Kazarss draw a sharp intake of breath as he saw the fiery streaks of light darting back and forth in the night sky. As she watched she could see gleaming spots like shooting stars at either side of the exchange of fire.
“What are they?” she breathed as she instinctively felt for a sword at her side.
“Dragons?” Kazarss said. Out of the corner of her eye Laurana saw him remove his hands from his sleeves and flex them over the rail.
“That high? And that fast?” she asked as the spots grew and lengthened into streaks. The flashes of light became more defined until she could make out the white-blue of lightning bolts flashing between the two streaks. “They must be mages!”
“Why are they so high?” Kazarss muttered. “We’d better get inside and alert everyone else. Two mages fighting like that is a sign of trouble to come.”
“Good, go ahead, I’m going to see if I can tell where they’re landing.”
Laurana half-heard the door opening and closing behind her as she continued to watch the falling streaks. She squinted and suddenly she realized what she was looking at. They were craft made by the hands of something intelligent.
***
The Imperial Elven Navy Man-o-War, Standard of Stars, lay tilted over to port at a near forty-five degree angle. The elegant curves of its green crescent wings were marred by the scorch marks and holes piercing the thin leaf membrane. Each wing stretched from the bow of the ship to the aft parallel to the ground. Both were attached to the ship by a trunk that connected the wing to midship.
"Damage report, Major Edge?" Oratia Trumpeter, captain of the Standard, yelled as she pulled herself up on the bridge's starboard bulkhead and looked towards the foredeck through the thick glassteel windows that stretched from one side of the ship to the other. A sailor banged through the fore bridge door and skidded to a halt by the crouching figure of Major Edge.
"We're banged up pretty good, Captain," Edge yelled back from the foredeck. "Lieutenant Alithis's down, he's bad off. Port wing is damaged badly, starboard looks useable."
"The helmsman is dead," Oratia said as she pushed off the bulkhead and swiped her shimmering black hair out of her eyes. "As is Lieutenant Hinal. How are the rest of the crew?" She tried to ignore the body of the helmsman, his neck twisted at a right angle by the crash.
"Banged up badly, Sergeant Bakker is calling roll," Edge said as he knelt by the first mate and finished tying a tourniquet around the elf's right thigh. From the open aft bridge hatch Oratia could hear the seargeant bellowing from the lower deck.
"Get your men set up in defensive positions around the ship, the Razorites might try to attack us when we're down," Oratia called back as she half-slid, half-skidded her way down the tilted bridge deck to the port side. She leaned up against the curve of the window and pursed her lips as she looked down at the port wing. Things could be worse though, it seemed most of the crew that had survived the fight had survived the crash. And there was no damage to the helm or the secondary furnace.
"Midshipman Draenas, reporting for duty, ma'am!" a short elf with light brown hair called as he clambered through the aft door. "Got knocked overboard, ma'am. Would have had a damage report ready for you if I hadn't been, ma'am."
"At ease, Draenas," Oratia said. "I regret that Lieutenant Alithis didn't have more time to show you the ropes. But you're acting Lieutenant now and I expect you to act like it. No more excuses. If you haven't done something you should have, you make sure it gets done instead of telling me why it hasn't been done."
"Yes, ma'am!" Draenas said again as he clipped off a textbook salute. "Permission to begin damage control, ma'am?"
"Permission granted, Draenas," Oratia said. "And remember, you have your own initiative. It's your job to anticipate what I need done and do it."
"Yes, ma'am!" Draenas said again with just a hint of uneasiness. Oratia watched as he skittered back through the aft door and down through the deckhatch calling the less injured sailors to beging clearing the deck of debris and begin making the ship wildspaceworthy again.
She wondered if she'd regret bringing him aboard as a favor to Lareala. They had been friends at the Academy. So of course she had accepted Draenas when he had applied for the position of Midshipman. He was experienced enough for that, she knew. And he had done his job well except for constantly needing permission to perform tasks that he should have done without thought.
Oratia bleakly wondered if that all the new Academy graduates were like Draenas. Smart, well-read, exceedingly well-versed in theory. But woefully lacking in actual experience aboard a ship. A midshipman had just become her only lieutenant thanks to several devastatingly accurate volleys of cannon fire from the Razorite ship.
"Midshipmen Trally and Dunwil, reporting for duty, ma'am," a young voice said from behind Oratia. She turned and saw the other midshipmen standing there, one leg bent to remain at attention.
Trally was a young woman, just out of her adolescent years. She was capable and intelligent with none of the hesitancy that Draenas had. But she was also a year younger than him and had less experience, such as it may be, than he did. Dunwil was the same age as Trally and would never rise beyond Lieutenant, if he ever managed to get that far. He had a good heart, but he lacked the ability to command the respect of his crew. They liked him, but in a pinch they would never trust him to give a good order. He'd be better off as a civilian officer. Oratia could see him as a captain of a small asteroider, running short, routine trips with a small crew that didn't tax his ability to command.
"Ma'am?" Trally said and Oratia narrowed her eyes. She continued to stare out across the snow covered plain to try and hide her distraction.
"Assist Acting Lieutenant Draenas and Sergeant Bakker with damage control and roll call. We need to be airborn as soon as possible. Step lively now," Oratia said as she glanced at the two young elves and nodded her dismissal.
***
Marshal Alexisu Salladac Medan (retired), formerly supreme ruler of the conquered territories of Qualinost and environs, was trapped and fighting for his life.
"So
what was it like ruling all those elves, Alexi?" Sylara cooed as she
pressed harder against him.
"I'm
sure you can imagine,"
"Marshal! You scoundrel!" Sylara shrieked and leaned into his hands.
"By
the Dark Lady, woman, show some decency!"
"And show some vigor, marshal!" Sylara said as she lunged at his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Oooo…take me, plunder me, and pillage me! Throw open my gates and march your column into me!"
"Begone,
woman!"
"Punish me! Whip me! Beat me! Put me in my place, my lord!"
"Something is happening, my lord," Larsk said as the dragon in human form walked up to the Marshal. "The aurak has just left the manor in rush." Larsk leaned to the right and looked Sylara up and down. "We dragons burn parasites off our hides when they're attached so firmly."
"I'm sure you can think of better things to do to me, dragon," Sylara said with a leer. "I'm no maiden but you can tie me to a stake and-"
She was
interrupted as
"I'll, I'll have you horse whipped if you continue this foolishness!" he shouted. The woman responded by shuddering visibly and falling to her knees.
"Please," she moaned as she went to all fours and started crawling towards him, heedless of her expensive Palanthas gown trailing across the polished wooden floor.
"He
was my shalafi!" a man's voice
suddenly yelled from the other side of the sparsely populated parlor.
"Dalamar's still on his feet?" Laurana muttered as she approached the trio and grimaced at Sylara. "How much of my wine cellar did you manage to drink, Sylara?"
"Far too much, my lady," Sylara said as she collapsed to the floor and rolled onto her back. She looked up and Laurana took a hasty step back so that the woman couldn't see up her dress. "I was impertinent and I deserve punishment! I've been so awful to you and the marshal! You must both take me and give me a sound thrashing!"
"I
need you to come with me," Laurana said as she took
"Dragons? Larsk,
do we have any patrols in the area?"
"No, sire," Larsk said. "These territories are under the control of the Knights of Solamnia. We have no dragons anywhere near here."
"Where they getting lower?"
"I
sent Kazarss out to look," Laurana said as she led Larsk and
"No,
our policy was that of non-aggression when I left the service of Takhisis. I'm sure it hasn't changed so quickly,"
"Non-aggression?" Laurana said incredulously.
"It means that we weren't planning to invade immediately," Larsk said. He lifted his head and sniffed loudly, breath pluming in the light from the manor windows.
"Consolidating
our gains,"
"A shame, if you stretched out your neck for another bite of Ansalon we could have cut it off," Laurana said.
"What have you seen, Kazarss?" Laurana asked.
"I believe both of those objects, whatever they were, landed a few miles to the north of here," he said and gestured towards the horizon. "I can see the trace of flame on the horizon and the smell of smoke and magic."
"I agree," Larsk said. "It smells like battle. I smell," he paused and took a few long steps north away from the building. The sound of his inhalation rolled across the silent fields as he turned his head from side to side. "Blood. Blood…smoke…and burning plants. And…" he shook his head and began walking out across the snow.
Laurana watched as he crouched and his clothing disappeared as massive blue dragon wings sprang from his bent back. There was a flurry of snow and the flap of wings and a scarred blue dragon stood in the snow.
"Death and decay. And metal, like a forge," he said in a voice that rumbled across the snow.
"Larsk,
take a message to nearest Knight outpost and alert
them of what's happened,"
"Do
it, tell them I sent you," Laurana said.
"The nearest outpost in ten miles south. It's in a village, you won't miss it. Tell them to be prepared for anything."
"Chaos spawn?"
Larsk asked.
"Anything," Laurana said.
***
"Sergeant Bakker says we only lost three sailors to the crash," Major Edge said to Captain Oratia as he joined her on the castle deck. "One of my men too, looks like a cask of water got loose and crushed him."
"Altogether much lighter than I expected," Oratia said as she looked down from the castle deck onto the ship. The hold extended aft from the main section of the ship like the abdomen of a butterly. Currently the ceiling and aft hatch were open, allowing sailors to carry the dead off the ship into a series of hastily dug graves. They were lucky Sergeant Bakker was here, without him they would have had to burn the bodies or leave them in shallow graves for animals. He had managed to dig six feet into the partially frozen ground and have enough space so that each sailor or marine could be placed on the earth instead of being piled on each other. "Like so much cordwood," Oratia said.
"Captain?" Edge said.
"Nothing, just thinking out loud," Oratia said. "I apologize for taking up so much of your time. You're my most experienced officer right now."
"Even if I am human scum?" Edge said with a smile. Oratia glanced over at him and smiled thinly. His sandy blonde hair, cut to the nape of his neck, wasn't particularly un-elvish. But an axe-like nose and a craggy, prominent chin with the two-days of stubble that seemed to permanently populate it was.
"Her majesty's South Quintessex Light Company is a fine group of soldiers. And I'm honored to have them aboard my ship," Oratia said. "Without you and them I don't think we would have survived the last battle."
"Maybe, maybe," Edge said and rubbed his chin. "I'm glad to be aboard this ship. It's good to have a captain who gives a damn about more than tradition and glory. I'll fly with you any day, ma'am."
"Glad to hear it, major," Oratia said as she turned to watch the procession of bodies. "Hopefully we'll both live to fly together again."
***
The cold air seemed to have sobered Dalamar considerably. That, or the small vial of greenish stuff he had taken a gulp of before leaving the manor.
"Damn
this cold," the dark elf muttered as his horse trotted across the
snow. Far behind him were the lights of
the manor. To the east his elven sight
could pick out the tiny silhouettes of Laurana and
"Perhaps a spell would remedy that?" Kazarss said. He rode a horse skeleton now after all attempts to find him a willing mount had ended in eventual failure. The skeletal horse looked terrible and frightened the wits out of most everyone who saw it. But it was reliable and fast and didn't mind carrying around two hundred pounds of semi-draconic predator on its back.
"Can't remember the right spell," Dalamar said and clutched his head. "I always drink too much as these damned parties." He looked down at his chest. "Why in the Nine Hells is my robe torn?"
***
"We
should turn back. Now,"
"Wait, I see someone moving around," Laurana said as she dismounted and crouched at the top of the rise.
"Human? Chaosite?"
"I think human," Laurana said. The flickering flames scattered across the gouge were ruining her night vision. "Not chaotic, they're wearing clothing."
"I
don't believe we can trust any human, draconian, or minotaur
that would use a thing like that,"
The thing was shaped like an unholy spider bloated to enormous size. It's sides were painted a glossy black speckled with glints of silver. As they watched the spider's legs shuddered and reached forward to dig into the earth. With a groan of timber and shouts of encouragement by the figures around it, the spider pulled its abdomen off the earth and crouched on the plain.
"It's not alive," Laurana said. "I don't think so."
"What? It's moving,"
"Yes, but look," Laurana said as she pointed at the spider's abdomen. Just visible in the flickering flames were the outlines of a deck encircling the abdomen and the dim shapes of windows and doors. "It's like a building shaped like a spider. Or a ship."
As they watched, the spider-ship took a few long steps away from the gouge and slowly turned in a circle. As it faced them they could see the glowing windows in place of its eyes and the open hatch in place of its mouth.
"It's
the size of the manor, if it's an inch,"
"It must have been, how else do you explain how it got all the way out here without leaving tracks or getting snowed on?"
"Flying
citadels have just been rendered obsolete,"
"I hate to interrupt your plans for conquest, but we should be leaving now," Laurana said. "I think they've seen-"
They jerked at a sharp crack like ice splitting in spring that reverberated over the snowy plain. A split second later snow was thrown up in a blinding gout between the two of them as something ploughed into the drift with incredible speed and a whine like a bee stuck in a jar.
"Magic! Get moving!" Laurana said as she vaulted onto her horse and spun back towards the manor.
"Go!"
"Hurry
up,
"Just go-" Medan said and cried out as there was another crack and he was flung off his horse to tumble down the slope leaving a trail of glistening crimson in his wake.
"
"Don't move, pet," a voice hissed from just behind her. "I wouldn't want to spill your sweet brains all over this cold ground."
Laurana spared a glance over her soldier and widened her eyes at the sight there. The man, or thing, was giant. It was at least ten feet tall but most of its height was made of a spindly pair of reverse jointed legs. It's torso was normal sized for a man but its arms, all four of them, were of a similar size as its legs. The head mounted on a long, jointed metal neck bore more resemblance to a crude carving of a skull than anything alive. Or perhaps an ancient, mummified head from some icy tomb. Bone clicked as it leaned closer and prodded at her with a pincer like hand.
"Off the horse, pet," it said.
Laurana glanced around and at it again. It had no bow or sling, just a long wooden and metal tube cradled in two of its hands. Some sort of clumsy club, she thought to herself. Laurana raised her hands and turned her horse to face it.
"I'm
getting off," she said and began to bend as if to dismount. With a single sharp gesture she swept a
throwing dagger from it sheath around her ankle and let it fly at the thing's
eye. There was a hideous screech as the
dagger connected and Laurana was riding down the hill away from it and towards
He had hobbled to his feet and was reaching for her outstretched hand when there was another crack and Laurana heard her horse scream and felt it begin to tumble. She leapt from the saddle and smashed into the snow. The impact left her stunned for a moment and then she felt a frigid pincer close around her waist and haul her into the air.
"Unhand
her!"
Laurana
watched as the thing took the sword blow without flinching and then lashed out
with the same leg, kicking
"Naughty pet," the thing said as it raised Laurana to its face. The dagger was embedded in the thing's right eye socket but it hardly seemed to feel anything as it used a free hand to pluck it out and toss it into the night. A trickle of thick, greenish liquid was all that came from the gaping wound. "You'll bring a fine price at the slave markets. If the captain decides not to keep you for himself, that is."
"Let go of me!" Laurana yelled as she pried at the pincer holding her and lashed out to try and kick the thing.
"Tsk, pet," the thing said with a rictus smile. "Bad manners are punished, we run a very tight ship. Are you tight, pet?" it said as it flicked up the skirt of her dress and laughed as she cursed. "Mayhaps the captain will let us find out, won't that be grand?"
***
"Caelithia stro, maglin!" a voice shouted from the strange butterfly shaped thing lying in the snow. They had found the thing lying on the plain like a toy dropped by some child of the gods. There were no tracks or marks in the snow except for a long channel stretched out behind the thing. But no sign of how it had gotten to where it now lay. Unless it had flown and crashed, Dalamar thought to himself, thinking of Kitiara and her penchant for flying castles.
"What was that?" Kazarss asked from his mount beside Dalamar. They were both still on their horses, both horribly exposed to any possible archers. Dalamar realized this and then wished again that he had kept his drinking in check. He hadn't lived this long by making elementary mistakes like this.
"Elvish derivative, I believe," Dalamar said. "Not very close to Qualinesti or Silvanesti. Perhaps the Dargonesti tongue."
"Which you speak?"
"Not very well," Dalamar said. "But I do believe I know a spell for that." And I hope it works, Dalamar thought. A sure command of the communication between himself and whoever was on that ship might be all that kept the draconian and himself from becoming archery targets.
***
"They aren't responding," Edge said as he peered over the castle deck's battlements. "What planet are we on?"
"Krynn," Oratia said as she motioned for quiet from the other sailors on the deck.
"Which dialect of tradetongue do we use? Tenth?"
"Try eighth."
"Identify yourselves!" Edge shouted over the battlements. From below there was a crash and shriek of metal on wood as Sergeant Bakker probably single-handedly created a barricade out of wreckage.
***
"Well, that made things easier," Dalamar said at the shout in common. "We are representatives of the owner of this land, identify yourselves, trespassers!"
"Captain Oratia Trumpeter of the Imperial Elven Navy," a woman's voice shouted back. Dalamar could make out the slender silhouette of an elven woman standing at the top of the ship. "We have been forced to make an emergency landing here. We will be departing shortly and we regret any inconvenience we may have caused."
"Imperial Elven Navy?" Kazarss whispered with a hint of mockery in his sibillant voice.
"There is no such thing, hasn't been for centuries, millenia!" Dalamar said back. "Who needs a navy when you sit in the middle of a forest all your life," he said in a lower voice to himself. Kazarss listened as he began to chant slowly, his hands weaving in front of him. The aurak sighed audibly and joined in the chanting.
"What is your purpose here, Captain Trumpeter?" Dalamar yelled back as a globe of brilliant white light shot upwards from his hand to burst high above the ground. Flickering shadows were chased around by the light of the globe as it hovered and illuminated the scene.
"Lovely, they've got mages," Edge said. "Bakker," he called down the deckhatch in Bral dock-speak, "get some men down to the cargo deck, get ready to pop out and kill the horses first. You, Draenas, get down to the battle deck and make sure the ballistae are ready."
"We are chasing pirates," Oratia called back. "You may have seen them, we think they landed some ways to the north and east of us."
"We saw them," the lizardman on the skeletal horse shouted.
"We request that you return to your lord and let us be," Oratia said. "We will finish our repairs shortly and will resume our pursuit shortly. After that we will be no trouble to your lord or anyone else."
"Ma'am, look!" Trally said and pointed to the north-eastern sky. Barely visible were the faint shimmering cloud trail of an active helm in groundspace.
"Damn them all, we must not have damaged them nearly as much as we thought," Oratia cursed.
"Probably killed their helmsman or injured him," Edge said. "They crashed and put a new helmsman on as soon as they finished sorting themselves out." He stopped and looked skyward. "Bloody hell, ma'am, we've got a dragon."
***
Grand Admiral Eldrenaz Bloodhand studied the game board before him and finally moved a small circular stone piece up the board towards his opponent. He took a moment to lean back in his wooden chair and stretch. Muscles streched and flexed beneath the elegant silk tailoring of his shirt as he looked upward and moved his arms from side to side.
It had been a present to him by one of his courtesans. He disliked admitting it, but he did so enjoy the finer things in life like a well sewn shirt. Many of his men would disagree with him, think that such things made other (that was very important) scro weak and elvish. But to Eldrenaz the appreciation of fine food and clothing was something he chose to enjoy and controlled, not something to control him. And, frankly, he though, he dearly looked forward to the first elven admiral that saw him and realized that a scro had a finer sense of fashion than he did.
Just above him a bird was singing in the elvish maple that spread its branches across the small stone patio. Beyond its branches Eldrenaz could see the darkness of wildspace and the pure shining of the stars mapped out upon in the inner surface of this sphere.
"The historians say that this game was played by kings and royalty throughout the spheres for thousands of years," he said as he settled back in his chair and looked at the beast-faced scro sitting across from him.
The pig-faced features of orcs that he and his opponent had inherited from their forefathers had softened and changed with the long years of isolation from the rest of the realms. Instead of the pig snout that marked the base orcs that spawned in countless other spheres he and his opponent had a broad, flat nose. There were an assortment of different faces among the many scro clans.
Some retained their hereditary orcish looks. Others had become more beastly, noses that were barely slits to make them a harder target, jaws that had lengthened and grown suited for biting and tearing. It was a variety that Eldrenaz relished in his people. Previous scro warleaders had promoted uniformity, seeing it as a strength. Eldrenaz saw it as a weakness, adaptabilty was what kept the best of the predators alive, it would keep his people alive as well.
"You seem to have lost this game," Eldrenaz said to the scro across from him.
"This is ridiculous," the scro snarled. "Settling matters with a game! This game is for fools and weaklings, I will kill you with my bare hands and take the warleader's throne myself!"
"Really, Durshat?" Eldrenaz said as Durshat stood up and knocked his chair back.
"You are a weakling, Eldrenaz! Playing these endless games, once you are gone I will lead our people back to glor-"
Durshat stopped mid-word and his mouth worked silently as he tried to speak. He looked down and raised his hands to the thin throwing dagger embedded in his throat. Blood began to trickle and then flow down the black steel blade as he stumbled forward into the stone game table.
"I offered to settle the matter of the Warleader's throne with a game because I had hoped that, perhaps, you would be able to defeat me," Eldrenaz said as he stood and casually shoved Durshat back onto the patio. "I knew that you couldn't defeat me in combat. I was overly optimistic when it came to your mental prowess as well, I see."
Eldrenaz pointed one hand at the dying scro and barked out words of magic. Durshat spasmed once as his blood turned to powder in his veins and then fell still as his entire body collapsed into dust. Grand Admiral Eldrenaz motioned for the servants to sweep up the remnants as he stepped off the patio and began to walk across the manicured lawn.
"Thank you, my lord," one said as he approached with a broom and dustpan. "You show us humble servants too much consideration with your choice of killing."
Eldrenaz waved dismissively as the servants bent to sweeping up the remains of the former scro officer. He stretched his arms again as he crossed the lawn. He could feel the beginnings of old age starting to creep up on him. He was just a bit more stiff in the morning and just a bit slower to draw his weapon. Nothing that would make any difference except against the most skilled opponents, but it was there nonetheless. His magic was countering the effects nicely, but he still wondered about the day when his only choice would be death or undeath.
What would he choose? he wondered as he looked down on the soft green grass beneath his feet. Death had its attractions, rising to the endless war in the planes above. He could start all over and lead the spirits of his ancestors to victory, sit and strategize with the greatest of scro leaders.
But…he always wondered about the higher planes. There were travelers who claimed to have seen the dead engaged in battle in a new life after death. But wouldn't it be so...boring to fight after you had died, knowing that you wouldn't die again? Or could you? How did you kill a spirit? And what happened to it then? Were they planes above planes, stretching out through the ether like so many stacked plates?
At the very edge of the lawn the crystal dome above curved down to form a clear wall that looked out into wildspace. Enough thinking on his own death. There was the death of others to consider.
Eldrenaz rested one palm against the crystal as he looked down at his plans taking shape before him. Far below the dome, yet still filling his entire field of vision, were the five witchlight marauders that had been found. The time stop field still shone a translucent silver around them, waiting for the proper codes to be unlocked. And once unlocked he would have all five marauders under his command.
Each marauder was a relic of the Unhuman Wars fought with the elves so long ago. They were doomsday weapons, designed and created at immense cost in the twilight days of the war. They were weapons made by a force that knew it would be defeated but longed to inflict suffering and destruction even as they lay dying. The creations of a vicious animal, crazed and snapping at its hunters even as its guts spilled behind it.
The concept behind the witchlight marauders was simple. Each space faring marauder was a host carrying a dozen or so much smaller land marauders within itself. When it approached a target it would release the marauders from orbit to fall, safely cocooned within fireproof husks, onto the planet below. Once there the marauders would begin to consume everything in their path. Plants, animals, the very stone of the earth, would be fed into their maws. And with every bit it consumed, it would create the smaller, tertiary marauders.
Smaller was a misnomer though. One of the tertiary marauders, freed from its stasis in a floating asteroid guard post for this site, stood silently besides the entrance to the dome. It stood a good thirty feet high, its greenish-black skin damp and glistening in the sunlight. Blades of grown metal grew from its arms and teeth that could bite through solid hull steel shone in its ten foot wide mouth.
The tertiary marauders would range over the land, hunting down anything and everything living while continuing to eat. Even they would birth more monstrousities, the quaternary marauders. The last stage of the marauder were smaller, barely larger than a scro. None looked exactly alike, each was formed from whatever materials the parent marauder had consumed. But for all their wondrous variation they were all bred for the purpose of killing until they were killed themselves.
A single witchlight marauders could decimate an entire planet if it was not stopped swiftly enough. Planets had fallen to them in the Unhuman Wars. But even as powerful as they were, they could be stopped if enough force was marshaled against them. That much force, Eldrenaz thought with a smile, would no longer exist in this peaceful universe of elven enforced tranquility. And even if one of the marauders was stopped, the rest would continue to eat and breed, spreading over the spheres like a contagion until nothing was left except the scro and their groveling slaves.
***
"Scouting parties are all aboard, sir!" a voice shouted from somewhere within the depths of the spider ship.
"All hands to battle positions," another voice called back. "That elven ship is out there somewhere, if it decides to face us again I want it going down in flames."
"Sir, yes, sir!" the first voice shouted and faded into the cacophany of rushing footsteps and creaking wood and metal.
Laurana winced as she raised her head from the wooden deck and looked around at where she lay. The long-legged thing that had grabbed her had dumped her here in the center of what seemed to be some sort of observation deck. There was only one way off the deck, a hatch in the center that led down into the ship.
She rolled over onto her stomach and got her feet under her, managing to rise unsteadily as the ship lurched and rose with a sickening speed. Any hope of leaping overboard faded when she reached the railing and looked down a hundred feet at the rapidly falling ground. Within a few seconds she could see the outline of the manor far to the south. And to the west there was a trail gouged in the snow and lit by small fires.
But her view of that was cut short as the ship continued to rise and the fires faded from view. She looked upward and wobbled for a second, the ship was rising faster than any dragon and it had been years since she had last flown. But her stomach was coming back under her control as she began to struggle with the leather shackles that had been secured over her wrists.
"Ahh, a lovely elf maiden," a smooth voice said from behind her. Laurana spun in a defensive crouch with her bound arms held before her. She looked the figure standing by the hatch up and down. He was simply attired in trousers and a long coat hanging open over a waistcoat and shirt.
"Who are you? Why have you kidnapped me?" Laurana asked as she edged sideways for a better angle at the hatch.
"Me? I am the captain of this vessel," the man said as he stepped closer. As he moved, moonlight gleamed on his face and Laurana clenched her teeth at the chiseled elven features on the man's face. His skin was bone white in the moonlight and his eyes glowed with a deep yellow fire. "You may call me… Captain Memory."
***
"Ship's ready to take off, ma'am," Edge said as he ducked into the bridge. "We're low on stores though and most of our water got lost when a shot went through the tanks."
"Thank you, Major," Captain Trumpeter said. "Is there somewhere that we could replenish our stores, my lord Dalamar?" She was still wary of having the elf mage and his lizardman mage companion on her ship. But when their dragon had appeared in the sky above the ship it had become obvious that they had the upper hand until the ship was flightworthy.
She really hadn't had any other choice when she had invited them aboard for discussion of the situation. The thought that the elf mage was devastatingly handsome hadn't played a part in her decision, not at all. And she hadn't thought of him using his magic to seduce her and take advantage of her as the ship was repaired either.
"There's a manor house just south of here, I'm sure the lady of the house wouldn't mind if we stocked up there," Dalamar said with a slight smile.
"We
need to hurry," coughed
"Please, sir, will you lie down somewhere? I can't treat you like this," she said.
"There's
no time, the Lady Laurana was taken by those brigands,"
"Of course we will, Marshal," Oratia said. "My mission is to find and eliminate the pirates who took your lady. And I am glad for the assisstance that you and your men have offered me."
"We're not his men," Kazarss snapped. "I serve the General Laurana alone." He turned to Oratia. "We have no reason to trust that you are what you say you are. But we need your vessel and you are willing to go after these pirates who have taken the general."
"And it's a good thing you don't trust me," Oratia said as she leaned back in her chair. "I don't trust you either. I have no idea what the situation is on this planet or who you are. You might be the worst villains to walk the land or saviors of all free people. I don't particularly care at this moment. But as long as you are willing to work with me and understand that I am in charge of this ship, I believe we can work together."
"As
long as you understand that we could destroy this ship if we wanted to,"
Larsk said by
"You might find it harder to destroy this ship than you imagine, dragon-kind," Oratia said with a sigh as she rubbed her forehead with soot and blood smeared fingers. "Regardless, I swear on my honor as an officer of the Imperial Elven Navy that I shall help you find your friend."
"I
swear on the Dark Lady that I will do you no harm while you help us find the
Lady Laurana,"
"I swear by the Black Moon that you are safe from me so long as you do not betray my trust," Dalamar said with a bow. He glanced into Oratia's eyes and smirked at the sight of her cheeks flushing briefly.
"I swear by the life of the Golden General that I will do you no harm as long as you help me find her," Kazarss said.
"Now
that we're done with that, shall we go get our water and start chasing
pirates?" Major Edge said.
***
Laurana sat stiffly in her chair, her hands clenched together in her lap. She rubbed the silk of her opera gloves with one thumb as she watched the rest of the diners around the table.
Memory sat at the head of the table across from her, his dead white skin shining even more pale in the light of a lamp flickering overhead. To her right were his two senior officers, both well-dressed in similar uniforms as their captain. One was a scarred human, the other an elf as well. Neither did more than glance at her.
Across the table from them were the raiding party leaders. The one who had captured her sat in a specially crafted sling with his legs tucked up under his chin. Its long metal jointed neck stretched forward and down as it used all four of its hands to slice its food. Despite its horrific appearance, the thing showed good table manners, as good as any noble from Palanthas.
Beside the thing was another elf, this one obviously undead. His body was made out of shreds of mist that wavered in the lamplight. Laurana could watch as he grew more or less transparent with the movement of the lamp and the fall of shadow on his body. In front of him was a single goblet of what must have been blood. He did not lift it, only bent forward to breathe in a fine red mist that rose from the goblet like steam.
"You're not eating, my dear," Memory said jovially as he lifted a piece of bloody venison to his mouth. "Is it the venison? Too rare for your taste?"
"What do you want with me?" Laurana said as she placed her hands on the table by her plate. Her food had been cut for her in the galley and her only utensils were a dull fork and soup spoon. "Why am I dressed like this?"
She made a motion to the ball gown she had been given before dinner. It's white silk and satin clung to the corset cinched tight around her midriff. The square neckline was cut so low that she had to watch her breathing lest her breasts fall out of the barely restraining fabric.
"I’m sorry, my dear," Memory said, "but your clothes were so dirty. You could simply not join us for dinner in such a state."
"Am I for ransom? Or sale?" Laurana said through clenched teeth. All the while she watched the officer's reactions out of the corner of her eye. None of them were leering at her, none allowed their gaze to do more than brush across the full sweep of her bosom, pressed upward as if by lover's hands by the corset.
"Tut tut, my dear," Memory said with a bright smile and twinkling eyes. "You are my guest! This talk of ransom and sale is far too…premature."
Laurana clenched her teeth and grabbed the dull fork in one hand as she measured the distance down the table to the captain's seat. Would his officers dare seize her when they were terrified to even look at her? Could the fear the elf inspired in his subordinates give her enough time to strike?
But what then? He carried no weapon that she could seize. All she would have would be his carving knife. And that would do nothing against the spidery metal man, much less the ghostly elf.
"They would seize you if you attempted to attack me, my dear," Memory said as he set down his utensils and tapped his temple. "And no, they would not grope you and caress your lovely, luscious body. Unless I gave them permission to. And they would not bend you over the table and rape your delectably tight arse unless I gave them permission to." He smirked at Laurana's sudden blush. "Oh? That's happened to you before. This one is not so pure as she looks, gentlemen."
There was a chorus of snickers around the table and Laurana bit her lip and refused to meet their eyes. How did he know? "I do believe she likes it that way," Memory continued. "Ahh…yes. Taken over the kitchen table, arse slicked up with cooking oil and butter. Squealing so merrily as she takes a cock."
"Shut
up! Shut your horrible mouth, damn you
to the Abyss!" Laurana snapped. She
had only done that with
"Yes, blame the wine and your dear departed husband," Memory said. "I'm sure those were the only reasons that you would ever do such a depraved act. Only to please your beloved." He smiled. "Did you enjoy what the men did to you in…Neraka? How they touched your body as you were wrapped and bound tight?" He suddenly laughed. "Oh my, you would never guess what this dear lady was thinking when she was presented to the High Lord Kitera! Presented in front of hundreds of troops!"
"Stop it!" Laurana said as she pressed her gloved hands to her head. "Get out of my mind!"
"Such fantasies you had afterwards in the dark of your bedroom," Memory said and he was standing, walking around the table towards her. "You wondered what it would be like if Kitera- no, Kitiara had done to you what she had promised she would."
Laurana shook her head desperately. "You wonder what would have happened if she had stripped you in front of all those men, in front of your husband to be. You dream about being chained to the altar and taken by her, taken as they all watch."
"No…" whispered Laurana helplessly as Memory reached her side and drew her up out of her chair. Tears trickled down her cheeks as he caressed her hair and leaned forward to kiss her neck.
"So rich, so full of life," he said in her ear as he kicked the chair away and turned her away from him to face the table. His hands were running up her stomach, then cupping her breasts, then squeezing them, weighing them.
"Get off me!" Laurana screamed as she flung her elbow back and tried to stomp his foot with the high heels of her white leather shoes.
Memory laughed softly in her ear as he avoided both her attacks and seized her arms just above the elbows. "I think I will keep you, my dear," he whispered. "I was going to fuck you and give you to the crew, then sell you on the auction block when we reached port. You would have fetched a grand price, elven nobility always does. Even after they've been gang-raped by a ship full of men who haven't seen a women in months."
Laurana felt sick to her stomach. What could she do? They were flying high in the sky, out among the stars. There was nowhere to swim, no way to escape.
"No, there is no escape," Memory whispered as he let go of her elbows and moved his hands up to her bare shoulders. He gently caressed her skin and slid his hands down the front of her chest to rest on the bare slopes of her bosom. "Stay with me and perhaps you will learn to enjoy all this. I may make you a queen, my princess."
"No," Laurana moaned as she felt him bending her down over the table. She pressed her hands against the white linen tablecloth and shut her eyes, trying to block out the now leering faces of the officers. "Abyss take you," she said feebly as she felt his hands sliding down her back to cup her buttocks.
"Ahh, but first I will take you," Memory said as he tugged on her dress and began to haul the heavy skirt above her waist. Laurana shook her head, her golden head falling around her face as she tried to buck the captain off of her.
"Leave me be!" she shouted, trying to twist away from the hands that seemed to be everywhere, touching her breasts, stroking her arms, squeezing her bottom.
"Please hold her arms down," Memory sighed as Laurana flailed, her punches bouncing harmlessly off his arms and her scratching doing nothing to his pale skin.
Laurana let out a desperate sob as the officers on both sides of the table reached out to grab her arms. They swept her dinner off the table and pulled her forward, pinning her down onto the table with her arms stretched out above her head. Laurana struggled against them, bitter tears of fury and helplessness leaking out of her clenched shut eyes. She kicked and twisted as Memory flipped her skirt over her waist and ran a finger down her naked thigh.
"Noooo!" she yelled, her head jerking up as she felt the hot stiffness of his cock pressing against her thigh. "Gods, no," she screamed.
"I think you'll remember this fondly, eventually," Memory said as his hands slid down the silk encasing her waist and squeezed tightly. Laurana sobbed as his cock pressed against her tight entrance and then slid into her quim with a horrifying ease.
There was nothing she could do as she was pinned, arm and shoulder, against the table. Her head tossed, hair disarrayed and tears streaming down her cheeks as Memory slid slowly into her, his cock stretching her painfully and filling her to what had to be her limit.
"Stop it, stop it," she hissed and then let out a despairing moan as Memory gave a last hard thrust and pushed the entire length of his cock into her. The room spun in Laurana's vision as Memory pulled out and thrust back in, the speed and force of his thrusts building until Laurana was gasping for breath with each impact.
Laurana whimpered, each gasp for breath coming out like a short, high moan. "She sounds just like an elven whore, doesn't she?" Memory said from behind her, one hand riding her waist as the other stroked her bottom. Laurana yelped as he slapped her ass and let her head fall forward to try and hide her humiliation as the room was filled with laughter.
The thrusts came harder and faster now as Laurana felt herself lifted onto her tiptoes. She heard someone whimpering and moaning with each thrust and she realized it was her own voice. "Stop it, stop it," she was panting between thrusts.
"So repetitive," Memory said. "You may fill her mouth."
"No! Please, no! Plea-mmnfff!" Laurana gasped as the scarred human climbed onto the table in front of her and opened his trousers to shove a thick cock between her soft, red painted lips.
Laurana sobbed in earnest now. Her hands were being forced to stroke more cocks and her vision was filled with the sight of the human's cock sliding deeper into her mouth. And still Memory thrust into her from behind as the human lifted her head with one hand tangled in her hair. With his other he reached beneath her and roughly freed her breasts from the confines of the dress.
Laurana felt her cheeks burning with awful humiliation. She could hear the men laughing and thanking the captain for such a prize as the human shoved himself into her mouth and down into her throat. She jerked and gagged for a second before she was able to swallow him and she could hear him groan in pleasure at the feeling.
"She knows how to suck cock, knows how to take it all the way down," he grunted and Laurana moaned as she felt herself taken by two men at once. Her thighs bounced against the table's edge and she felt a horrible hot stickiness splattering across her left hand. Her muffled scream only served to encourage the man filling her mouth as she felt Memory shoot his seed within her, felt him fill her until his seed trickled down her gleaming, sweat-coated thighs.
A moment later the human in her mouth groaned and clutched her hair with both hands and he thrust rapidly into her mouth, his cock slipping back and forth between her stretched lips and then exploding across her tongue. Laurana was sobbing hopelessly now as he pulled his cock out and sent a final jet across her lips and cheeks. Was there nothing they wouldn't do to her? Bad enough that Memory had raped her…now his officers had seen her and taken her for themselves.
"Did you enjoy that, my dear?" Memory said as he stroked the sweat soaked back of her dress. "I think that deep down you did."
"No," Laurana coughed as she wiped her mouth and realized in horror that her hands were coated with the sticky seed of the other officers. "Gods damn you to the Abyss." She tried to push herself up and off the table but her arms trembled and she fell exhausted onto it, her cheek pressing against the tablecloth, her panting body trembling.
"Hmm…" Memory said as he walked around to the head of the table and took his seat. "Perhaps I was doing something wrong. Why don't you lads keep trying? If you can't get her to enjoy it…well, I guess I'll have to let the rest of the crew give her a try."
"No! Please, no!" Laurana said, managing to half rise off the table. Her hair hung in sweaty tangle around her face and her skin was flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat. "Don't!" she yelled as the spidery metal man skittered behind her, his four arms pinching and teasing her bare flesh.
"Oh gods! No, please, no!" Laurana cried out as he thrust into her. She shrieked as he laughed in her ear and pulled her back onto his cock with each thrust. Too weak to fight anymore, Laurana could only moan and weep as the elven officer took the place of the scarred human in front of her. "Please," she gasped, before her mouth was filled once more.
"Hold her," the spidery thing said as Laurana felt herself lifted into the air and her knees pressed forward by the thing's arms until they rested on the edge of the table. Her ass was high in the air, presented to the thing like a prize just waiting to be taken. Laurana whimpered and tried to shake her head as the elf in her mouth kept her head pressed down low, forcing her to keep her ass raised in the air.
Laurana shrieked around the cock in her mouth as the spidery thing leaned forward and put his full weight into each thrust. Her upthrust ass jerked back and forth as she was taken, the four arms of the thing sliding over her sweat slick skin and kneading the cheeks of her ass.
"May I take her ass, sir?" she heard the thing say from behind her. Laurana moaned around the cock in her mouth and felt the elf's hands tighten in her hair as he continued to violate her mouth.
"By all means," Memory said with a laugh and then another laugh at Laurana's increased struggles. "Look at her writhe, you'd almost think she wasn't enjoying this!"
Laurana felt tears running down her face as she sobbed around the cock in her mouth. Her eyes went upward, trying to catch the gaze of the elf raping her, hoping for some mercy from him. But her tear filled eyes only spurred his cruelty on as he continued to fuck her mouth.
The elf maiden felt the thing behind her pull its cock free of her tight, gripping quim, and despite the relief at not having it within her, she was overcome with dread at what was to come.
Laurana felt the thing's hands move down, grabbing her calves and pinning them to the table while another hand grabbed her ass, steadying her for what was to come. The elf in her mouth exploded, his come filling her throat as she swallowed convulsively and moaned as he pulled himself out of her mouth and rubbed his cockhead against her tear soaked cheek.
"Please, please, not there, please, please," Laurana was babbling as the elf moved away, letting her head shoot up as she turned and tried to catch Memory's eye. "Not there, I'm begging you, please, oh, gods, please," she continued to whimper until the thing let go of her ass and used its hand to grab the back of her head, forcing her head down against the tablecloth.
"No, no, no, no, no," Laurana was weeping as she felt the thing's cock press against her ass. They were all watching, stroking themselves back into hardness at the sight of her ass in the air, about to be buggered. "Oh gods, nooo-" she shrieked as the thing's cock began to press into her ass.
Laurana bucked wildly, fighting the hands pinning her to the table and wailing like a banshee as she was entered. Her eyes widened, filling with fresh tears as the cock forced its way deeper into her. Her shrieks filled the room, barely interrupted by her gasps for breath and pleas for mercy.
Soon, but not soon enough, the thing's cock was all the way in her and still. Laurana took shuddering breath after shuddering breath, barely aware of her pathetic sobbing and whimpering. Her hands scrabbled at the tablecloth, grabbing bunches of the fabric in her come soaked fingers.
"No, stop, don't move, please, don't-" she began to beg when the thing pulled back and lunged forward again. Again, the room filled with Laurana's cries as she was taken. The officers watched and laughed as the thing leaned forward, rising up on its legs while raising Laurana's ass to an even more humiliating height. Her forehead was pressed against the table, her ass high in the air, almost as if she was about to perform a handstand. Her firmly muscled and shapely legs were taut from the tension of keeping her ass raised while the thing forced himself down into her.
Laurana's breath was knocked from her with each thrust of the thing, her hands only loosely gripping the tablecloth as she cried out with each thrust. Her hair was spread in a halo on the tablecloth, whipping back and forth as she shook her head in futile denial of the humiliation taking place. She could feel her breasts bobbing and shaking with each thrust, a sight that the officer's were denied by the concealment of her skirt, fallen down around her head.
She couldn't see the thing, but she could hear its mechanical grunting as it pumped its cock in and out of her ass. Laurana was lost in a sea of humiliation and shame as she realized what a sight she was, bent double on the table, covered with men's seed, crying out like a whore as she was buggered against her will.
Then the thing came, roaring its climax as he gripped her ass and thighs painfully, slamming its cock into her while filling her with seed and then finally, blessedly, letting her body fall back onto the table.
Laurana whimpered, her body shaking beyond her ability to control it as she feebly tried to cover her naked crotch with her skirt. But she could barely move, exhausted as she was and so she lay there on her side, hair fallen down around her face, concealing the tears running down her cheeks and the look of utter horror as she heard the officers moving closer to her body as they chuckled and told her all the things they were going to do to her.
"So, my dear," Memory said as he walked around the table and looked down upon Laurana's sweaty, disheveled body. Her dress was in shreds, her corset still tight around her body but not a shred of fabric covered her breasts and her quim. She was panting for breath, eyes closed as she sprawled on her back on the white tablecloth. Her lower legs dangled off the end of the table, her thighs still spread wide from the last violation. She could barely manage to feebly cover her breasts with her trembling arms. "Did you enjoy that? Or shall I call in the crew? I do so want you to enjoy this," Memory said as he paused by her head and patted her sweat soaked hair.
"I-I," Laurana whimpered. "I enjoyed it," she finally gasped with a sob.
"Oh? So you'd like us to do this to you again?"
Laurana remained silent until Memory took a step towards the door and began to call out an order. "Yes! Do it to me again! Take me, bend me over, I enjoyed it!" she wailed.
"Ahh, very good," Memory said with a smile. "Now, why don't I have you shown to my room where you can…clean up. The nights last so long here in wildspace and I haven't begun to sample your pleasures."
Laurana began to weep softly as Memory wrapped her in the stained tablecloth and rang for the stewards. She was barely conscious as they lifted her in their arms and carried her out of the dining room and lost in an exhausted sleep by the time they set her onto the captain's bed.