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Date Posted: 16:32:11 03/30/03 Sun
Author: Astariel & Elomir
Subject: The Elven nobles are carried to Drear Ford
In reply to: No post. 's message, "War of the Everdark" on 12:38:20 03/27/03 Thu

Astariel had been asleep when icy hands clutched her and a burning liquid was forced down her throat. Her shattered arm from wrist to shoulder was swathed by heavy bindings over a rude splint bent at the elbow. Ghola held her. Again the liquid was forced upon her, its fire burning inside her chest and stomach, running to her limbs. A Ghol roughly grasped as her head, wrenching her face upright, pouring the liquid.

The awakening had been semi-expected, for she was in that twilight sleep the elves were known for. Her eyes went wide as she was pulled up; before she could get out a word, the hot liquid was burning down her throat and rushing to her limbs in waves of heat. She sputtered and choked, her head fighting to stop the vile assault by turning right to left as it could.

"Rul durg!" And the chill hands of the corpse-people rent the clothing from the Elfess till she stood naked before the Naudron, the one who had spoken to her at the wagon train. He sat up his Helsteed. This was not a perversion for Rukken clothing was flung at her feet, and fleece-lined boots, for the Spawn did not know that the Elves were unbothered by the clothing. Filthy was the clothing, and mite-infested, and would be overlarge on her.

Astariel fought with them as best she could - giving them a hard time rather than battling it out. Matted hair from the melted snow clung to her nude body and served as someone as a cloak for her. She looked at the clothing in distaste and nudged the pile with her foot.::

"Then you will go without!" The Naudron's voice spat before hissing commands in the foul Sluk tongue too rapidly for nearly anyone to make out individual words from the guttural, slobbering drool-speech. Then the evil eyes turned upon her as her arm was jerked into a sling from a nearby Ghol. A Helsteed was brought forth. Oh, if she would not wear their clothing, then they fully intended her to go without.

Astariel winced and turned toward the direction her arm was jerked. Cerulean eyes glanced from one to the other. She wondered where Elomir was, and if he was going through such treatment as well.

Again the clothing was shoved before her, this time held by a Ghol, his empty black gaze staring. It was the Naudron that spoke. "Now you will be brought to my stronghold." hissed the voice, "where I have a purpose for you to serve.

Astariel reached out with her good arm and snatched the clothing from the Ghol. She listened to the Naudron but didn't respond to him. She shook the clothing a little and then put it on.::

The head of the Naudron tilted, curious at her silence, malevolence crawling over his gloating features. "Challerain Keep will fall." He sneered. "Even now that pile of hovels is aflame, set to the torch by my engines of destruction. Challerain will burn to the ground ere this 'Darkday ends, and there is nothing that Aurion Redeye with his puny force can do to prevent it: nothing! And the fire will sap his will: the strength of his Men and Elf weaklings will fall into the ashes of its destruction. Then I will strike: my Horde to whelm the gates, to scale the walls, to slay the Men and Eternals, fools all, trapped inside."

Through his slobbering words she could only decipher a few words here and there. Once the clothing were on her as best as they could be, she looked to him and tilted her chin up, looking to him as if he was considered the swine and not she. "You destroy all you come to stand before, and in time you will destroy yourselves as well. One will turn on the other until there is nothing to rule over. You will be obsolete and useless."

"They had the choice to become my slaves. Already there are others who are willing and the fight the Host of the King in the south. I shall remind you of your words, Elfess, when it is time for the throne of Midland to be mine. We waste time." He hissed, then cried a command to the force of Ghola now arrayed behind him. "Urb schla! Drek!" And two came to grip the Elf and haul her astride a hideous beast, the Helsteeds odor nearly enough to make anyone retch, as Elomir had found out the day before.

The elf dragged her feet to stall the Ghola, fighting to shout back at him through the stench. "They are cowards! They deserve to wither away slowly with you on your self-constructed throne! I will remember you the day you are cast down from your pedestal of twigs!" And her voice faded away then as she had nothing else to shout.

Even as she yelled the Naudron's features writhed and then fell lax, and the malignant glare was utterly gone, replaced by a witless, vacant, slack-jawed look. Once she was mounted a Ghol rode to take the reins of the Naudron's Helsteed to lead the beast, while another took up Astariel's, and at a sharp bark the Gholen column rode forth, heading east. And somewhere behind them, amid strewn and burning wagons and butchered steeds, lay the slaughtered: babes and mothers, the lame, Women, oldsters, soldiers, and youths, sprawled upon blood-soaked snow, some with the eyes staring at the track of the Gholen column as it disappeared into the Everdark; and naught was said by any, for the dead speak not.

~*~


Thirty grinding miles the Ghola rode through the Winternight, through the icy Shadowlight grasping the northern hills of the Battle Downs; and the jolting of the Helsteed drove shattering agony up Astariel's arm. At last the column stopped to make camp. Astariel was hauled down from her mount. Once more she was forced to drink the burning liquid as a Ghol took the vacant-eyed Naudron from his 'Steed. A meal was then set before the Elf, stale dark bread and thin gruel and some unknown meat.

Being off the horse was a welcomed change. Though she was able to fight pain better than a mere human, it still got to her after a while. She fought off the liquid the same manner as last time and then sat quietly in front of her 'meal'. The bread was taken up with her one hand, her fingers digging to try and perhaps find a semi-decent center.

The Foul Folk tore voraciously at their own food, all, that is, but the vacuous Naudron, who chewed and slavered with dull-witted sluggishness upon the runny porridge spoon that was fed to him by a Ghol. Astariel was given a kick to wake her, though she was probably aware of the Ghol's foot nearing her before it made contact and never was she given any privacy to take care of her needs. Once all were mounted, on through the Everdark they rode, beating steadily eastward, still within the northern margins of the Battle Downs. This time they covered nearly thirty-five miles before making camp. As Astariel was given her food once more one of her kind might be able to feel a cold chill upon them.

The elfess moved along passively as they moved her about. She figured it would allow her arm time to rest and heal - the quicker it did the better off she would be. Astariel sat quietly, picking at the same stale bread she was given before.

Malignant again glared forth from the Naudron's face across from her. "Challerain is burned to the ground," gloated the voice. "The first and second walls have fallen to Whelmram and my Horde. Aurion Redeye and his pitiful few retreat up the mount, trapped like rabbits before the serpent."

Mourning Willows: No acknowledgment was given to the voice though she heard. Her fingers continued to pick apart the bread so she could eat what she was satisfied with.::

~*~


Three leagues they rode, then four, passing through the Shadowlight toward the eastern reaches of the Battle Downs north of Eternalwood. Twelve miles they rode before an uneasy stirring rippled down the column. And ahead, just within the limit of the Elfess' sight were horses. Elves on horses! Rescue?

She would hope so -- and if it was that they were well prepared to take on this legion. A share glance of hope was between Elomir and herself though they remained silent. They didn't want to ruin any plan the elves might have.

But wait: they were not coming their direction. Instead, they rode swiftly toward a line of trees to the south; and behind, running on foot, pursued a great force of Maggot-folk in close chase, their harsh yells drifting over the snow. And gleeful howls rose from the Gholen column that held the Elf and Elfess captive, gloating to see their prisoners Kindred flee into the Eternalwood with Rucks and Holks in full cry behind them.

Lips were closed tight together as she watched grimly as the elves made their retreat. When the howls rose she dipped her head and closed her eyes.

The Gholen column continued eastward, swinging slightly north to pass behind the force of Maggot-folk invading Eternalwood. Head another band of Ghola sat upon Helsteeds, watching the force of Spawn disappear into the trees. The two Gholen columns met and merged, and spoke with flat, dull voices, sounding bereft of live except when one or several would emit bone-chilling howls. Some came to inspect the two captives, their dead black eyes fixed upon them.

Astariel opened her eyes and glanced to the observers with a frown. She straightened her back and poised her shoulders regally.

The new force of Ghola numbered nearly one hundred strong, and in this band, too, rode a Man: black he was, as if from the Land of Cabba south across the Avagon Sea. And his eyes were vacant, and drool ebbed down his chin, just like the Naudron's. And, also like the Naudron, the Chabbain, too, was led by a Ghol. It was as if neither Man bore any wit or will. Yet even as one looked, the black face willed with malice, and Evil stared out at her. "The third wall of Challerain Keep now has fallen, as will the last two." hissed the Chabbain. And the voice that came from this man was the same that had sounded from the Naudron's! The same viperous voice.

Blue eyes widened as the voice took on that of the Naudron. A dry lump in her throat was forced down and she stared back in silence. It now occurred that something of a greater power was at hand and it left her pondering.

Onward then went the column with Astariel and Elomir, resuming the trek to the east. Another four leagues they rode before emerging at last from the Battle Downs, and they made camp two leagues beyond upon the open plains.

The next 'Darkday, the fifth since Astariel's and Elomir's capture, the Gholon column crossed the plains to camp within sight of a northeast arm of the Eternalwood. Still their track bore eastward, and they had ridden thirty or so miles each of those five 'Darkdays. Yet the Helsteeds were not spent, for although they were not as fleet as a good horse, their endurance was greater.

No, it was not the tiring of the Helsteeds that determined where the column would camp, nor was it the amount of pain that the Elven Prince and Elfess would withstand. It was instead the limits of the Naudron that paced the force of Ghola, though how the corpse-people could tell that the vacant-eyed Man needed rest, none could say. Just when the Elves were forced to bed down and rest they were kicked to wake. Opposite the campfire, Evil looked upon the two. "The Keep has now fallen and is now mine, " hissed the puff adder voice. "Your brave Aurion Redeye has fled. And though I now have no eyes to see, I think none shall escape."

~*~


The next trek took the Elves beyond the margins of the Eternalwood and into the low-set craggy tors of the Signal Mountains. And just before they stopped to make camp, the Naudron's blank eyes suddenly glared with Evil. "They seek to defy me!" the voice shrilly screamed, no longer a sibilant hiss. Rage was upon his features. "The fools of mine Helborne Reavers raced straight into their trap! But this ragtag Alliance of Elves, Men, and jewel-eyed runts shall not bar me from conquest. Eternalwood shall fall by my hand!" Now the voice sank into viperous sibilation: "Thuggon oog. Laug glog racktu!" (Split in two. Half join the Horde!) At these festering Sluk words, nearly half of the Ghola turned southwest along the Signal Mountains, while the rest continued to bear eastward, taking the two Elves with them. As they divided, the voice hissed at the Prince and Elfess. "They go to replace those impaled upon the wood. Think not to gloat over this minor set back, for the final victory shall be mine.

~*~


Three 'Darkdays later, now snow was falling down through the Everdark when the Elves were awakened, and their trek began in flakes swirling thickly. The past two 'Darkdays had been spent out upon the open plains, bearing south of east from the Signal Mountains, crossing the land north of the Wilderness Hills.

Once more their journey carried them southward, and they had gone nearly ten miles when they came to a high-bluffed river. South they ranged along the wall to come to a low place where there was a frozen ford. Through the swirling snow and across the ice they went, cloven hooves ringing on the surface. As they came to the far side, the snow began to slacken, yet their tracks has been covered, and anyone following would have lost the trail. As they rode into the land beyond the ford, the column turned, slightly north of east and a strange run of excitement ripped through the Ghola.

Onward they went, the snow diminishing as they rode, finally to stop all together. They came in among dark trees, and the Elves could feel a deep foreboding. It was in these woods that camp was made.

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Replies:

  • From Drearwood to Arden Vale -- Leila, Gelan, & Adaron, 19:39:13 04/05/03 Sat
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