Private Tales Into the Unknown

[Raea Stormcrow]

Her breath misted in the frigid air, and each breath was an agony in and of itself. If not for the splendor of her surrounds, she might well have regretted the decision to travel to this miserable part of the world. At least she was attired for it - now - although it hardly seemed to help.

The vista was breathtaking. Mountains - mountains! - marched in an unbroken line north to south, their peaks so high overhead that they pierced the very heavens themselves. The locals said that those peaks remained clad in snow all year long, from the depth of summer to the height of winter. Now, with winter bearing down on the land, the white draped everything. Only the hint of deep green showed where the trees stood on those jagged fingers of stone; scree slopes buried under feet of snow, pine and cedar cloaked as well. Even here, several thousand feet lower in elevation, the damnable white stuff blanketed everything.

Raea shivered uncontrollably. Despite heavy woolen leggings, undershirt, a thick dress and a heavy cloak over all of that, the cold still managed to find ways in. She did not even know if it was really that cold, or if it was feverishness slinking back to haunt her again; she very much doubted the latter. She felt as hale as she had in weeks, albeit cold as ice itself. Perhaps it was the thrill of the adventure that dispelled any doubts as to her health for the moment. She had paid a healthy sum, after all, to be taken through they Allir Stone. She had no natural magical ability of her own, and thus had to rely on others to do what she could not.

It had taken a few days to get free of Alliria. Naturally, her...disappearance had not gone unnoticed, and as much as she could wish they would let her go, she knew they would not. Elena was their only child, and so naturally they railed against the inevitable. Raea had made her choice, and while it would be unfair to say that she had no compassion for her parents, she had nevertheless decided to act on her own selfish desires for once in her life.

She did not like to think too much on that. The sorrow her parents were feeling, even observed in her imagination only, twisted her frail heart into knots. She had she many tears since leaving home, but her resolve to explore as much of the world and to make some mark on it with her final days had not faded.

She might just be a girl of barely twenty summers, but she was her own person. As she had exhaustively told herself, either in the privacy of her own skull or while lying on a sweat-soaked bed back in Alliria, she would choose her own way out of this world. Altruistic and naive to a degree, but she very much hoped to do so helping someone else. There was something about sacrificing her life so that another might live - and live a full, happy life quite unlike her unremarkable and miserable one - that appealed to her.

That said, she had no intention of simply jumping off a cliff. She would ride this horse as far as it would take her. In the end, it was all for naught, of course. Same for everyone else, in the end, but she wished she just had a little more time. Just a little more.

As if thinking of the proverbial horse had been a summons, a wet, cold muzzle shoved itself into her shoulder, a whicker of some annoyance at the decided lack of attention. Raea turned and looked into the liquid, lively eyes of her filly, and the horse stamped an impatient hoof. "Yes, yes," she said softly to her beast, and patted the animal on her neck. There had always been a soft spot in her heart for all things equine, and his one was the first one that was hers, bought and paid for and cared for exclusively by her own hand. The fact that she doted on Mist spoke of her affection for the filly.

Want for warmth finally bade her move, and so she continued down the road. The snow had been packed down by the passage of a few carts, such that the way was slick and she had to pick her way carefully. Ahead of her lie a village, and within it the contact posted on the bill. The sleepy little hamlet was so far and away from the grand scale of Alliria that it almost took her aback; a few dozen buildings of stone and timber, shake roofs blanketed in the freshly fallen snow of the night before and thickly covering the handful of streets. It, like the mountains that surrounded her, had a certain appeal to it that was not at all detracted from by all the snow and the cold.

Her eyes scanned the little place, and found the one building around which half a dozen wains had been drawn. A larger structure than most, smoke drifted away in the icy breeze from the stone chimney. That, she felt, was her destination.

She picked her way there, Mist following behind with most of her possessions packed in the saddlebags.

***

"Just yourself, miss?"

Raea had settled down on a chair near the fire of the big open room, basking in the heat that - despite its potency, raised not a bead of sweat upon her brow. The building was not an inn, as it turned out; there was no such thing in this little village. No, this place served as a mercantile, a common room as one would find in most village inns, and the office of the local mayor. Unsurprisingly, the mayor owned the business and was by and large the wealthiest member of this community.

It was not he, however, that had sought out help from beyond the community. Rather, it was the man seated before her: a sallow looking fellow that seemed almost as unhealthy as her, with a dark glint in his eyes that made her distrust the man. One could not help they way they looked, to a degree at least, and so she sat here as prim and proper as the lady she was supposed to be. When she nodded at his question, he merely scowled all the harder.

"I was expecting a band of adventurers, not a lone woman," he said sourly. "You surely read what the bill said, did you not? How do you think yourself up to this task?" He folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back into the seat. The mug of beer sat untouched on the table in front of him.

"Do you presume to know my skill," she asked him in what she imagined was a smooth tone, a touchy icy to suit weather and mood. "Just because I am a woman," she added flatly.

"Yes," he said quite bluntly. "They have raided my caravans at least three times and taken everything each time. Left a frightful mess behind when they did, as well." He paused, rubbing his chin with a forefinger. "Except the womenfolk as was with them. And some of the men too; those who resisted were slain and dismembered as a warning."

"Charmed as I am that you worry about my safety, I do not believe that is your concern. Paying me is your concern," she gave him a level look. Deep inside her guts twisted at the thought of facing such a threat. "In any case, I did not intend on doing anything other than look, for now. Once I know what I am facing..."

Then she could assess whether or not it was worth the risk, else she would have to find help.

"I wouldn't worry about her, merchant," said a voice over her shoulder. Raea looked back and found herself staring into the cold blue eyes of a killer. She knew nothing about the man beyond that, and that only through the cold, emotionless eyes. They were the windows to the soul, after all. She turned a little to include him in the little circle of people discussing business, and drank in every line of him. Taller than her, broader of shoulder, he wore leather with metal discs sewn into it. The great sword on his back was longer than she was tall, and she had to wonder how the man even wielded such a thing.

"And you are?" She looked him up and down, but he did not seem to notice. Or care.

"Someone looking for some easy coin," he said flatly. He turned to the merchant with a hard grin on his face. "I'll be joining the lady, along with another fellow outside. There is no need to worry about her safety," he said. Assumptions about whether she would agree or not were, apparently, to be dismissed out of hand. Raea did not know how she felt about this, but if it meant increasing the odds of success....then she would be willing to bend her stiff neck.

"Very well," the sallow fellow said in a sour tone.

The fellow went on to explain the most recent attack, its location, and all the particular details. The nameless fellow who had interjected himself into her discussion nodded...but his eyes were over the top of that fellow, looking at a lavishly dressed man at the back of the common room. Their eyes met, briefly, and something like understanding passed between them.

Raea was oblivious to all of this, of course.

 

[Stella]

It was cold in the evenings now, ever so much more than the balmy warmth of the summer twilight. The chill settled in beneath the layers, filling lungs with foggy breath and noses with cold sniffles. The season here was shifting into winter, but hadn't quite made the leap. Autumn lingered, ever petulant in its weather. Just three suns ago it had been warm and pleasant only to be swept away with a gale to leave behind the shivers of an unsuspecting people.

And an unsuspecting dragon.

The raider's caravan had set up camp for the evening not far away from a humble, quiet village. A circle of wagons surrounded the main campfire around which the raiders mingled and rested. Their bountiful harvest of the last village had left them jovial and light hearted in their evening festivities. There was drinking, there was feasting, there was joking and gambling. There was inebriated shenanigans that filtered through the nooks and crannies between the wagons that the firelight didn't reach.

Stella watched it all in silence from the transport cage she'd been locked in. Wide, round eyes took it all in, struck by a silent terror that sent her twitching whenever someone got too close. Wings bound, legs shackled, maw bound shut by chains, she could do nothing but struggle to get away when they jeered and prodded through the cage bars. There was not even enough room for her to turn around and hide in a corner.

Tonight they were rowdier than the last several nights, so tonight she resigned to getting no sleep. The fates had seen to punishing her again and Stella could not fathom why.

 

[Raea Stormcrow]

"Not any easy coin here," she said in a low voice. The blade in her hand trembled a little - she had never killed a man before, and she did not like the simplicity of the act. His blood stained her hands and dripped from the tip of her delicate rapier, the snow drinking it up greedily as it dripped. The body of the swindler lay in the snow, eyes glazed over in death. The neat wound in his chest had already drained every drop of his life into the snow, and the red-pink stain still spread, steaming in the cold air.

She was not a fool. Some initial hope at help with a task that was far, far beyond her ability to achieve had allowed her to take the bait, but it had not taken long for her to flush out the ruse for what it was. His companion had not been outside and, as it turned out, was actually the leader of the selfsame brigands that had been ravaging the area for months. He had thought that she would be some green adventurer - not inaccurate, but not taking into account everything. An easy mark, a new slave to sell to the whoremasters in some distant place or to some other willing buyer.

Well, that easy coin had not come. Confronted, he had thought to overpower her; his unwillingness to damage the merchandise had led to her splitting his black heart in half with an expert thrust.

"Jokes' on you," she whispered, the rattle in her chest - ever present companion to all the other aches and pains - loud in her ears. "This little treat is already spoiled." She spit on the dead man, and turned away.

The upshot was that she had been led straight to the encampment by one of its own members. The downside was that she had literally no idea what she was going to do about it. Taking down one arrogant, pompous horses' arse was one thing; two dozen rowdy, blood-thirsty men and women little better than savages was another altogether else.

The revelry was obnoxiously loud, and she couldn't help but scowl at the lewd lyrics to their music, the indecency of several of their members once the alcohol really got to flowing. Once the camp came into sight, though...

Gods have mercy, she thought to herself. Stealing goods was one thing - coin, textiles, booze - but there was much more here than just stolen goods. People, chained or tied with ropes and being treated like less than animals themselves. There were as many men as there were women, although the women were certainly having a much less enjoyable time than the men.

And, against all belief....a dragon.

Slavers. The word clanged in her head like a hammer on hot iron, sending sparks of indignation flowing through her flesh. The fire of anger served, for the moment, to keep the chill of the night at bay. Breath misting, she crept round the bole of a frost rimed tree, and hunched in on herself, wrapping her arms round her legs. A bitter breeze blew, and clouds scudded in the sky overhead. Night had fallen true and proper, and without both moons blazing in the sky and the sepulcheral glow the snow gave their light, she would have been blind.

A plan. She needed a plan, a brazen and bold plan that no one would expect. She laughed softly to herself at that - of course no one would expect it. Only a suicidal fool would even dream of trying to deal with a horde of beered up scofflaws hell bent on slaving, raping, stealing, and murdering their way through the hinterlands where the law seldom came.

Bold plan. Bold plan...

Why, there were a bunch of captives down there. A bunch of captives...and notably, one fire-breathing dragon!

And what could she do with this knowledge? What else did she know of the scaly, winged species of eld? Only what the stories told of them - fire breathing, territorial, gold-hoarding. Of course, those same sources claimed that faeries were beneficent, that there were knights in shining armor who would save the damsel, and that all stories ended happily.

Even she was not stupid enough to believe that.

Rocking back and forth to try and generate some warmth, she worked through her audacious plan in her head. It could work.

It would certainly work better than doing nothing.

***

She moved like a ghost.

The night had moved on, the chill deepening to something with physical force. A light snow had begun to fall, the thin skim of clouds overhead still permitting a sourceless light to penetrate. The falling snow added the benefit of muffling sounds a great deal more, which she definitely appreciated.

The camp was quiet, many hours after the revelry had died down. Brigands slept in their wagons or else under then, in the company of their women or alone. The captives huddled together for warmth, denied any kind of shelter. Their restless mutterings, half asleep, could barely be heard over the soft silence of the falling snow.

More steam rising in the air, fresh blood spilled into the snow and the still twitching carcass of a guard sleeping when she should have been awake. Raea felt sick to her stomach over it; the second person she had ever killed in her life. She was keenly aware of the value of life, considering she had never really lived one and soon - too soon - she would depart to that whence she even now sent these twisted souls. She did not have to like it. She did not want to be like them in any way.

She had debated on which to approach first. The people might be possessed of the power of speech, but they were fearful things now. The tender ministrations of this particular band would not lend itself to creating stoic individuals. She could turn them loose, and in their haste to escape be found out and find herself without any ally at all.

She did not want to die, at least not yet. She just knew it was inevitable. She might be able to buy someone else a life worth living with her own fragile and relatively useless one...but she did not intend to sell herself cheaply until there was no choice.

The young woman instead approached the large cage. The one with the dragon in it, the dragon - as it turned out - that was bound so heavily it was a miracle the thing was still alive. The slow rise and fall of its chest was a sure enough sign that some life yet lingered in it.

It was time to toss the dice.

"Can you speak?" She asked it, tapping on the bars of the cage with her knuckles only hard enough to be heard up close, and looking to the silent camp in apprehension anyway. "Dragon? Can you speak?"

 

[Stella]

It had fallen still enough around her prison that Stella, in all her exhaustion, found herself dwindling into waxing and waning sleep. As pauses in the revelry came she'd drift off, then broken back into a woozy and frightened waking when a loud outburst of laughter or yells reached her. It wasn't enough that the dragon had already been bound, tormented, and starved. She would not sleep - not well, at least.

Stella did her best to ignore the pain of her tethers and the soreness of limb and wing from being incapable of stretching or moving beyond her tight confines. She was already missing a leg, so at the very least it was one less leg to stretch. But with her tail tied off against the bars so that she could not use the spikes as a weapon, her weariness of immobility finally caught up and drift off she did.

Her sleep came fitfully again. She did not dream, but only imagine.

Can you speak?

A gloomy image of a shapeless face. Dark eyes lingering within grey and black.

A gentle rapping on her cage.

The dragon's eyes blazed open, pupils pinning in frightened surprise to find a being standing just beyond the bars. Typically this was when the torment started, so she recoiled as best she could, struggling against her binds.

Dragon? Can you speak?

Something caught her attention. It was a girl, not one of the men. She did not smell of blood and booze, nor was she large or carrying a weapon. Something else ... Stella sensed it but could not place what it was. A burst of laughter briefly caught her attention, there was a group of three heading their way. The dragon looked the girl in the eye and nodded. She could speak, yes, but not with her maw tied shut.

 

[Raea Stormcrow]

A wave of relief washed over her. Not a dumb beast, capable of only instinctive violence and little else. Obviously, she had never met such a beast before and the tale about them were mixed - some claiming fire-breathing, winged death with a taste for human flesh. Others, noble creatures of sharp intellect and deep patience. The truth was likely somewhere in the middle, as with all things.

The erstwhile adventuress nodded slowly, and looked to the bindings that held the beast. Whatever it was, it was clear that the captors thought this one was dangerous. It would be a daunting task to remove all the bindings, and deal with the cage as well.

The crunch of feet caught her ear. Breath misting before her, Raea crouched low and looked round her, and saw the source - three heading this way. Her eyes narrowed as the shapes resolved themselves in the silvery light of the moon; two men, and one bound and gagged woman. The girl put up no fight, stumbling along while the others escorted her.

Raea felt her temper rising, but pushed it down. No good could come of rushing to that girl's aid, revealing her presence to the camp at large. Not unless she had an ally of any sort, or a diversion or distraction. Unbeknownst to the dragon in chains, Stella was to be either that ally...or that distraction.
Raea faded to one side, keeping to shadow and stepping as lightly as she could.

"Keep them from...from noticing me. When they have gone, we'll see to those bindings," she said in the softest whisper, and then vanished into the shadows as though she were a natural at it.

 

[Stella]

The girl wanted her to ... distract them? That meant drawing their attention to herself, something which Stella wasn't especially keen on given their previous treatment toward her. The dragon fixated a look of deep concern on the girl before turning her attention to the approaching group. By the time she looked back, the girl was gone.

For a moment the passing thought that it had all been a lucid dream brought on by lack of sleep or food occupied her mind. To sleep again would be a welcome thing, but the smell of the drink on the men and fear of the woman were far too stark to be anything but real. She watched as they drug the poor woman between them, making to veer through the space between the wagons just short of where she'd last seen the girl.

They paused just beyond, one man fiddling with a ring of keys on his belt which he dropped in his drunken state and turned to pick them up, nearly looking directly at where Raea was hiding.

Stella froze as his eyes landed on the girl-shaped shadow in the darkness and blinked, then the dragon charged the end of her prison, ramming her spiked skull into the bars with a guttural hiss. She near knocked the man over in fright, but he was certainly no longer looking at the strangely shaped shadow.

 

[Raea Stormcrow]

A moment frozen in time, where it seemed even her heart stopped in her chest. The sudden hiss and charge from the dragon certainly caught her off guard as well, for all that she had said it need be done, and she couldn't help but try to steady the unruly thump of her heart but a moment after.

"Damned beast," the fellow who had been looking in Raea's direction growled as he picked himself up - not knocked over, but certainly shaken. "Almost not worth it," he muttered. The girl between the pair had shrieked at the sudden charge, but hung in the grip of the other man, pliant and broken as she was. The look in her downcast eyes was enough to elicit rage in adventurer's heart, and for a moment she had to struggle with herself not to intervene.

It would be fruitless. She could save one, or she could save many...but if she blew her cover right now, she would be lucky to save herself.

Jerking her along, the denizens left the scene with their prize, to do things she herself found abhorrent in the extreme. She could deal with it later; for now, she waited until their muted conversation had faded as they went to find more private locale for their debauchery. Then, and only then, did the slight figure return to the side of the cage. There were two gates; the large one for loading creatures into the enclosure, and a smaller one that served as a manway. Raea climbed the side of the wagon so she could get to the door, and scowled at the lock. She looked around carefully, and saw no immediate threats.

She did not speak to Stella just then.

Fishing in a pocket of her clothing, she pulled a pair of pins out, slipping one inside the mechanism and twisting until she met resistance. She then used the other to fish round inside the keyhole for the pins, setting them one by one with such painful slowness that her own heart was a thunder in her ears before she managed to set the last pin, and twist with the first of her pins to release the hasp. She let the thing drop to the snow ground and, with trepidation, opened the door.

It did not squeal. She thought she would melt from relief and then slipped inside - only to realize, belatedly, that she was now completely at the mercy of the beast before her. Her frail shape would not last a second against such a beast, chained and bound as it was. She raised both hands, not in defense but in a calming gesture.

"I d-don't mean any harm," she said slowly and as quietly as possible. "May...may I unbind your jaws? If I do, you...you mustn't make too much noise," she said. Not biting me in half would also be preferrable, she didn't add. Lowering her hands, she rubbed at her right shoulder, and winced in pain. "Must..must be quick," she said.

 

[Stella]

The girl was not the only one with mixed feelings about the present situation.

Before her a dragon, bound and cowed, mistrusting of others to an extreme with nowhere to go and no way to flee. Stella braced herself, tense and still and drawn back as far as she could muster within the confines of her cage and against the length of her tethers. Though it would take no dragon expert to see that she was plainly as terrified as the girl, the frills along her spine and crowning her skull stood straight out defensively. Many of the sharpened spines had been broken during her tenure in the cage, but they would and could certainly still do plenty of damage if need be.

She listened despite it all, and as before when the girl spoke to her so again did she offer a silent nod.

Stella lowered her head into her reach, flinching at her touch but holding steady until the binds were undone. With her head free she quickly snaked it away, yawning open her jaw and shaking out the prickling sensation of bloodflow freely returning along the length of her maw. There were still plenty of binds to be undone, several metal chains, but she was one step closer to freedom.

The dragon fixed her gaze on the girl and waited.

 

[Raea Stormcrow]

Alarm rose and fell like rough seas, and for a moment she felt herself sway from the sudden shift in her heart. The flutter passed quickly, though she found herself having fallen forward, one hand on the unclean floor of the cage. The long moment after the sudden movement stretched out, and the silence of the camp continued to remain as thick as the darkness among the trees.

Shaking her head - she was a fool to take fright so easily - she returned to a crouch. There were other bindings to tackle, after all, and she set about it slowly. The cold worked its way through her clothing, heavy as it was, and made her fingers feel thick and clumsy. She was no thief, and only knew how to pick locks as a curiosity from years gone. It was not quick work by any stretch, and there were a number of muffled, frustrated curses under her breath when a lock refused to budge. Ropes were far easier to deal with, but the ne'er-do-wells had not used those restraints on their most precious of prizes.

"Keep an eye out," she said under her breath, irritation and frustration thick in her voice. The lock holding the chains on the dragoness' hind legs was especially stubborn, and becoming moreso as time passed. Too cold for this work, but she was far, far too stubborn herself to give up once a course had been chosen. "I do not...do not now what we will do-" ...I will do... "if they hear or come, but I would rather not find out," she said, then caught her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated on trying to pick the gates on the current lock.