to ward her off. But Nykostra would not be deterred. She had come to even a score and she didn't care how many grays died in the process. They were animals and she would slay them.
The interior corridor was warmed by the fires of torches. She walked purposely, her blade pointing down and slightly behind her, ready to strike. The first Soothsayer came around the nearest corner and held up his bony, gray arms in self defense. She cut them off and then thrust the weapon into his chest, puncturing his black heart. The man fell before her and she stepped over his bleeding corpse.
One down
.
She began to pick up her pace again before encountering two more adult males. They were unarmed too.
Stupid beasts.
She swung with all her might and their heads rolled, filling the hallway with their blood and bodies. She wiped blood from her face absently and continued onward.
More dark gray cloaks stepped before her blade and every one of them fell in bloody piles at her feet. Her lithe form jumped into her swings and the blade did the dirty work of separating limbs and heads.
Fewer grays came forward as she burst into a large chamber where dozens of them gathered around a fire fueled by coal. Nykostra slowed to a stop, her gown soaked in the blood of innocents, her blade held at the ready.
A single Soothsayer removed his monkish hood and stared in her direction. It was the Kwizarra Lonn. In the firelight she could see his wrinkled gray features and his wispy white hair tied behind his head. White patterns could be seen like war paint across his gray face. She had never noticed them before.
Nykostra felt the heat building inside her again. But she could barely hold her falchion up. Slowly she lowered it to the stone floor. She gripped it hard, ready to swing it back and continue killing. Her breath betrayed her, short and heavy. For the first time she realized how weakened she had been, refusing to eat for days. Now, when she faced the man she most wanted to kill, she realized that she couldn't even lift her heavy falchion.
Adrenalin and hatred had propelled her this far into the den, but now she lacked the strength to continue the fight. The Kwizarra Lonn knew it too. He made no effort to run, nor did the other grays that stood before the burning fire pit.
"I challenge you to a duel, Kwizarra Lonn. On behalf of Lord Ketar, my dead fiancé."
The Kwizarra Lonn opened his arms slowly so she could see that he was unarmed.
"You come into our den and slaughter unarmed men and now you wish to kill me in a similar fashion? You have no right to be here in these tunnels. Your heart burns with revenge for a killing I had no part of."
"Fomshook! I am the Kamsa-riecht. No land is beyond my reach, especially here beneath my castle. Face me now and pay with your life."
The old Soothsayer took a few steps towards Nykostra, careful to stop well beyond the reach of her blade. She slowly raised it to her shoulder, her muscles burning under the strain. She had one swing left in her and all she wanted was to cut his wrinkled gray head off.
"You have no more strength, Empress Nykostra. You should have eaten instead of festering in your hatred."
She spat at him. "Shut your mouth, beast!"
The other robed Soothsayers had slowly moved behind the Kwizarra Lonn. They half surrounded her in the warm cavern. Her skin was wet from perspiration and blood. She wiped her brow with the back of her arm as she watched them. She could feel them probing her mind, looking for a way in so they could force her to leave. Her eyes slammed shut for just a second and when they opened again, all of them were gone except for the Kwizarra Lonn.
Damn them
.
"You are not a Goddess. You are a halfling. Part Votainion and part Soothsayer. But you are not trained in our ways and you never will be. Go back to your castle and tend to your affairs. The Empire is without an heir and as long as that remains true your future is dim."
Nykostra gripped the handle of her falchion hard,
The interior corridor was warmed by the fires of torches. She walked purposely, her blade pointing down and slightly behind her, ready to strike. The first Soothsayer came around the nearest corner and held up his bony, gray arms in self defense. She cut them off and then thrust the weapon into his chest, puncturing his black heart. The man fell before her and she stepped over his bleeding corpse.
One down
.
She began to pick up her pace again before encountering two more adult males. They were unarmed too.
Stupid beasts.
She swung with all her might and their heads rolled, filling the hallway with their blood and bodies. She wiped blood from her face absently and continued onward.
More dark gray cloaks stepped before her blade and every one of them fell in bloody piles at her feet. Her lithe form jumped into her swings and the blade did the dirty work of separating limbs and heads.
Fewer grays came forward as she burst into a large chamber where dozens of them gathered around a fire fueled by coal. Nykostra slowed to a stop, her gown soaked in the blood of innocents, her blade held at the ready.
A single Soothsayer removed his monkish hood and stared in her direction. It was the Kwizarra Lonn. In the firelight she could see his wrinkled gray features and his wispy white hair tied behind his head. White patterns could be seen like war paint across his gray face. She had never noticed them before.
Nykostra felt the heat building inside her again. But she could barely hold her falchion up. Slowly she lowered it to the stone floor. She gripped it hard, ready to swing it back and continue killing. Her breath betrayed her, short and heavy. For the first time she realized how weakened she had been, refusing to eat for days. Now, when she faced the man she most wanted to kill, she realized that she couldn't even lift her heavy falchion.
Adrenalin and hatred had propelled her this far into the den, but now she lacked the strength to continue the fight. The Kwizarra Lonn knew it too. He made no effort to run, nor did the other grays that stood before the burning fire pit.
"I challenge you to a duel, Kwizarra Lonn. On behalf of Lord Ketar, my dead fiancé."
The Kwizarra Lonn opened his arms slowly so she could see that he was unarmed.
"You come into our den and slaughter unarmed men and now you wish to kill me in a similar fashion? You have no right to be here in these tunnels. Your heart burns with revenge for a killing I had no part of."
"Fomshook! I am the Kamsa-riecht. No land is beyond my reach, especially here beneath my castle. Face me now and pay with your life."
The old Soothsayer took a few steps towards Nykostra, careful to stop well beyond the reach of her blade. She slowly raised it to her shoulder, her muscles burning under the strain. She had one swing left in her and all she wanted was to cut his wrinkled gray head off.
"You have no more strength, Empress Nykostra. You should have eaten instead of festering in your hatred."
She spat at him. "Shut your mouth, beast!"
The other robed Soothsayers had slowly moved behind the Kwizarra Lonn. They half surrounded her in the warm cavern. Her skin was wet from perspiration and blood. She wiped her brow with the back of her arm as she watched them. She could feel them probing her mind, looking for a way in so they could force her to leave. Her eyes slammed shut for just a second and when they opened again, all of them were gone except for the Kwizarra Lonn.
Damn them
.
"You are not a Goddess. You are a halfling. Part Votainion and part Soothsayer. But you are not trained in our ways and you never will be. Go back to your castle and tend to your affairs. The Empire is without an heir and as long as that remains true your future is dim."
Nykostra gripped the handle of her falchion hard,
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