Freedom doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Quote: I'm looking for Freedom and to find it cost me everything I have...
Species/Custom Member Title: Elf
Gif Alignment: center
Gender/Pronouns: No Information
Sexuality: No Information
Relationship Status: No Information
Birthplace: No Information
Joined: 14-November 14
Last Seen: Oct 16 2016, 09:12 PM
Local Time: Oct 18 2017, 06:47 PM
261 posts (0.2 per day)
( 4.66% of total forum posts )
Sep 9 2015, 05:46 PM
The black mustang tore through the streets of New York from the upper east side, towards the business district of the city. The Seamus IT building was mostly dark as it peaked at the elf through the other buildings that rose around it in the streets. This assignment had taken a while to get together. Crinda had informed her that she needed a specific species and type of person to actually handle the artifact and put it into a special container that the client had provided to help in obtaining the artifact. Crinda was supposed to give her the final details now that all the players were in place, but she wasn't too happy with being kept in the dark on the finer details of jobs.
Crinda knew she'd be ticked, but with the type of person he had hired, there was no choice. If he told her, she'd decline the job and he knew none of his people were good enough to do it outside of her. As she was driving in, he was sitting behind his desk giving the man across from him a faint smile. "My associate is pulling into the garage as we speak, won't be much longer." Standing up, the gnome walked over to a table in the office, pouring two glasses of expensive brandy and handing the man the other one. "I'm very glad that Conscious was able to intr-"
The door to the office opened and the tall figure walked in, hood up over their face. The man that Crinda had been talking to had his back to her, so she couldn't see him, but she could sense him. Demon. Her hooded head lifted and she met Crinda's eyes. He gave her a smile and she frowned as she pushed her hood back, black hair spilling out from it as she moved towards the chair. He had warned her that a demon would be involved, but he had mentioned Conscious and she had half hoped that the witch was demon enough now that she could fill the role. The elf sank down in the chair, throwing a leg over one arm of the large leather chair. She turned her eyes towards the man sitting in the other chair and immediately jumped back out of the chair. "Is this some sort of joke little man? THIS is who you got to work with me on this? HIM? I thought you called Conscious? This will never work."
Her eyes went back to the sickeningly handsome demon sitting in the chair and all she could think about was the fact that he had nearly killed her once already. Now they were going to be alone, on a job together, and Crinda thought she'd survive it? She only had one blessed blade on her and it was no where big enough to do anything except piss him off. "If we're working together, get this clear. I am in charge. This is my assignment and you are sub-contracting for me. You follow my orders."
May 1 2015, 06:43 PM
“I don’t know if this is a good idea…”
“Oh, gods child, it’s been 300 years, do you think anyone even remembers your face?”
“They’re elves. What do you think?”
“I think they’re so stuck up and full of themselves that no, they won’t.”
Freedom sighed, unable to argue the point. She knew Crinda pretty well, but not everything about him. Still, all the jobs he’d sent her way the last hundred years or so had worked out well. She was a lot better off gold wise if nothing else. She sat at the bar, looking over the information that she’d been given. Her green eyes lifted to the dwarf as she chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Crinda wiped the bar down and leaned against his, propping up on his arms. She knew there was a stool under him, but it was one of those things you just didn’t talk about.
“Look, kid, you need the money if you’re going to build that new shelter in Europe. The three you have now are strapping your resources. You know I’m not going to send you into something I don’t think you can do.” Crinda patted her arm and turned away from her stepping off the stool. When he came back he sat an ale in front of her. “Look, go, check it out. If it feels off, back out.”
Freedom nodded. He was right on both accounts. The Ravenswoods were draining her. She’d been doing petty thefts just to put food on her plate the last six months. This, this would set her and them for years to come. It was just so strange to see that amount of money for one jewel. Was this ruby the size of a horse? “Alright. I’ll go. Check it out, if it looks doable, well I hope you’re ready to pay out those funds my friend.”
Crinda laughed at her and nodded. “Aye, lass. I’ll be ready to pay. I just hope you find it in your heart to pay me a nice finder’s fee for the job.”
“Heart? You think I have one of those? Please, Crinda.”
The dwarf just smiled and went back to waiting on other customers. By the time he turned back, Freedom’s ale was empty, a coin beside it and she was nowhere to be seen. “That’s all sorts of disturbing.”
Everything was going according to plan. She’d been back in Ireland three days and in Alden for one. She’d slipped in under the cover of night and she was making her way through roads she thought she’d long forgotten. She sat outside the main city, up in a tree as far as she felt safe going, looking from the map to the few rooftops that were on the ground. The house that held the ruby she was after was a straight shot from the right wall. This was just too easy. Sighing, she put the map away and sat on the tree limb, staring at the roof in question. There had been no signs of anything amiss in Alden. No strange guards extra. No fewer guards. Nothing. Just the standard rotations and the standard change times. Maybe the gods didn’t hate her as bad as she thought. She was trying to do a good thing with her shelters, maybe they could see that.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed out of the tree, landing in the shadows it’s limbs made easily. This was it. The guards were all at the gatehouse, switching out shifts. The elf raced towards the side gate and through it without a problem. Her shadows helped her blend into the surroundings easily. There were few people in the streets, as was normal this time of night. She simply waited out the few who did pass. Soon she was standing outside the home that held her prize. Something felt wrong. She didn’t know why. Maybe she should leave and come back tomorrow night. No. It was now or never. Licking her lips, she went to work on opening the door, her picks moving with precision and the door popped open. There was no sound inside and she hoped everyone was sound asleep. She didn’t want to kill innocents if she could help it.
It was easy for her to move through the dark house soundlessly. She could see in the dark just fine, almost like daylight. She found the room with the ornate door that she’d been told about and she slipped inside carefully. When the door shut, she knew something was wrong. It shut with a hiss. Doors didn’t hiss. Not normal doors at least. She stopped where she was, looking around for traps or triggers. The last thing she needed was to be skewered. ”Oh, by the fifty hells why can nothing ever be simple?”
As if her words triggered fate, the room swam and the air got thin. Magic. That was not good. Freedom turned back to the door finding it gone. She blinked and stumbled back from it trying to figure out a way out of this room. A laugh hit her ears and she spun, trying to see where it came from. When she turned, there was a woman standing where no one had been before. ”Hello D’nore.”
The elf stepped back, finding herself against the wall of the room. Fealwen. Her brothers betrothed. This could not be good. ”Fealwen… you look well.” She looked insane was how she looked. Her eyes were too wide, her smile wasn’t normal. Had she gotten more crazy in the centuries that had passed?
”Thank you, ruling suits me. So, it’s been a long time since you came home. I see your little dwarf friend fell for my bait. Sent you right to me.”
That made Freedom’s stomach knot and her heart sink. This was not good. Not good at all. At least she did know that Crinda hadn’t betrayed her on purpose. ”What do you want Fealwen?”
The older elf moved towards Freedom with a smile, her hands behind her back. ”Want? Why, for you to pay of course. You killed my betrothed, your own brother, in cold blood.”
Freedom wanted to move back further, but she couldn’t. She tried to reach in her shadows for another blade, but she couldn’t. Something was stopping her powers. The elf’s heart began to race a bit faster and she swallowed hard. ”It was an accident. We fought yes, but he fell on his own knife. You know as well as I do that he couldn’t fight…..” Her eyes narrowed at the woman. ”…and I think we both know he wasn’t really my brother.”
Fealwen lifted a brow, clearly surprised that Freedom had found out about her heritage. ”So, you know do you? Well, that makes you even more dangerous to my rule. I can’t have that now can I?”
”Your rule? I don’t want your gods forsaken throne. I just want to be left alone. I always heard you were crazy, not I’m pretty sure the rumors were right.”
Fealwen’s eyes narrowed at the young elf, clearly not appreciative of her comments. ”I can’t take that chance. You’re a murderer, uncontrollable and not to mention a thief. I have enough reasons to kill you without you trying to take the throne.”
That was it. She had to get out of here. She brought her fist up, punching Fealwen square in the jaw. The woman went flying backwards, but lay in the floor laughing. ”Fight all you want. You won’t get out of this room. Not alive.”
As she spoke the magic that had hidden the truth of the room began to fade. Freedom looked around, finding that she had actually broken into the jail. That was smart, using magic to disguise the jail as a house. There were guards all around the room and Freedom knew she was not getting out of here easily. The guards began to close in and she took the first one down with her bare hands, wresting his weapon away and running him through with it. Fealwen screamed about her being a murderer and ordered more men after her.
There was only one way out of the stone building and it was guarded by ten men. Freedom was good, but she wasn’t that good. Not with another twenty men circling her and closing in. They came in a rush and she blocked blade after blade, but she couldn’t watch her front and her back. A sword hilt came down hard on the back of her head and she cried out as the world spun, sending her to her knees. Everything seemed to freeze as Fealwen laughed and Freedom toppled forward, out cold.
There were drums being beaten in her ears. She was sure of it. She’d gotten drunk at Crinda’s and now that god-forsaken town was having some sort of celebration while she was trying to sleep it off. The elf groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Something wasn’t right. There was a stone wall in front of her. Her room wasn’t stone. The walls were wood. Turning over, the knot behind her ear made itself known and she groaned. Stone ceiling. Not good. Three more stone walls and a very heavy solid wooden door. No. This was very bad. So, very bad.
Freedom tried to lift a hand to her aching hand and nearly screamed when her wrist tried to move. The pain that shot up her arm was pure agony. She struggled to sit up, finding herself chained to the wall she laid in front of. Once she got sat up, she could see iron cuffs on her hands. That was bad enough. The iron burned and was blistering the skin under it, but worse was the metal pins that went through her wrist. Clearly, Fealwen had wasted no time in starting her revenge. Her fingers didn’t want to move due to the damage to her wrists and she felt a despair wash over her. She tried to draw her shadows out, to comfort herself but nothing happened. That was it. That was why the pins. That was why the iron. She’d heard of these cuffs. Her brother had threatened her with them. They were made to cut off magic or powers, whichever you wanted to refer to it as. They also rendered thieves hands useless.
The iron at her throat was the most painful because it was the largest band of iron on her body. Her feet were tightly chained together, but the iron was over her pants thankfully. As if someone had been watching for her to wake up, the door swung open and the guards poured in pulling her to her feet. She gasped in pain as the manacles on her wrist moved, sending pain up her arms. Fealwen came in and motioned another wall. The guards dragged her to it, taking her chains off the cuffs and hooking her to the wall. Her full wait hung on the wrist cuffs causing her to cry out in pain. Fealwen walked up to her once she was secure, taking her face in her hand. ”Poor little girl has to pay for her crimes now. You have anything to say for yourself? Any excuse for killing Isthan?!”
Freedom was blinking trying to see through the pain in her arms. This bitch was crazy. ”I didn’t kill him! He fell on his own blade! It’s not my fault he was a fool and clumsy.”
”No, but it’s your fault that you were in the temple. What were you doing in there? What did you do that made him draw a blade on you? Hmm? Did you draw on him first?”
”No! I would never… he was my brother. Or I thought he was. I…” She looked away from Fealwen ashamed of what she’d done even after 300 and some odd years. ”I was stealing a candlestick. I wanted to be put on the discipline detail. I wanted to be around other elves, not trapped in my home like a prisoner. It was the only way he let me out of the house! He threatened to have my hand cut off and I tried to run. He was going to cut my hand off himself and yes… yes, I drew, but he already had his knife out planning to hurt me. I swear to all the gods, he tripped on his robes. I didn’t want him to die. I just didn’t want to lose my hand!”
Fealwen stared at her. The insanity was clear in her eyes as she did so. The silence stretched on and Freedom thought she might believe her, but Fealwen back handed her causing her to jerk in the restraints, pain racing through her. ”So you are at fault. Your own pleasure and greed led to you doing something wrong and Isthan died for it. You might not feel responsible but you are. You’re a traitor to your people. A kin slayer. A murderer. “
Freedom shook her head in denial, but she had always feared that it was as much her fault as it was his. Now, this crazy woman was confirming it. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath before looking up at Fealwen. ”I never wanted him to die. You have to believe that.”
Fealwen smirked at her and stepped right up in her face, then leaned into whisper in her ear. ”I don’t really care. You have to die. This is a good excuse and I shall use it to the best of my ability. If I can’t control you, then I’ll destroy you….princess.” Freedom’s green eyes went wide at the threat. This woman was so power mad that she was going to kill her over a throne that Freedom didn’t want. Freedom had limited ways to fight back but she turned her head, gripping the other woman’s pointed ear in her teeth and she bit down, pulling. She could hear the rip of flesh as she ripped Fealwen’s ear off. She spit it on the ground her chin covered in blood as the woman stumbled back and screamed.
”You’re going to die slow! Then I’ll bury you in a way that you can never become part of the earth again!” Fealwen took a rag that one of the guards handed her pressing it to her ear as she raged. ”I want her beaten! NOW! She attacked me! No food, minimal water. She stays on that wall till her wrists break or she goes to the executioner. Whichever comes first!” The guards were closing in on Freedom as Fealwen made for the door and she knew this was going to be a long night.
When the sun rose, Freedom was out cold, hanging lax in the restraints that held her to the wall. A beating was an understatement for what the guards had done to her and they had only stopped in the fear that she might not live to make the trial that Fealwen had planned for her. The days that followed turned into blurs for the injured elf. When she was conscious, she could only focus on breathing around blood clotted in her nose and broken ribs. The blank stone walls were only interrupted by a guard coming in once in a while to pour water down her throat.
She had been asleep when the day finally came. The pain of her arms being moved woke her with a cry of pain. The sound came from a throat that could barely make sound at all, but it came. One of the guards backhanded her , but she couldn’t stop the cry of pain that left her after they lowered her arms for the first time in gods only knew how long. She knew what was coming. Freedom had done nothing but dwell on it since Fealwen had left. The elf had resigned herself to die. There was no out. Her hands were useless. Her powers the same. She was to beat up and dehydrated to even stand on her own, let alone fight.
The guards commented on how much she smelled, but she didn’t say anything as the dragged her out of the cell. She could see the light at the far end of the hall. That was just going to make everything so much better. Sunlight. Joy. The moment they dragged her outside, she closed her eyes with a pained cry. The sun hit her skin and immediately began to suck what strength was left out of her. She sagged more in the guards arms, causing them to curse and jerk her roughly. As she was dragged up on the executioners platform, people began to yell and scream for justice. Freedom was so tried and out of that she couldn’t even make sense of what they were saying.
The guards moved her in front of a pole and bound her to it. Her head was strapped back, her arms bound together from the elbows down causing her to cry out in pain. They treated her legs the same, binding them tightly and immobilizing her. The elf closed her eyes. She’d always known she’d die young for her peoples lifespans, but not like this. This was not what she had envisioned at all. Fealwen stood in front of her carrying on about justice for Isthan and teaching others who might shame their people a lesson. Freedom opened her eyes as a shadow passed before them. A priest stood in front of her with a knife in hand. Oh. Of course, they’d let the priests do it. Revenge for their fallen brother. Freedom smirked a bit thinking he was more their brother than he ever was hers. He began to cut her shirt off of her exposing her torso and chest to the gathered crowd.
”She’ll be marked as what she is and then her body put on display for others as a lesson.” The crowd cheered and Freedom just closed her eyes again. Fealwen was going to keep her promise to make this as brutal as possible. Of that she had no doubt. She felt something cold and burning all at once above her left breast. She was red faced from being exposed like this, but she was sure that was the least of her issues. Her eyes opened finding a blade pressed to her skin. It sparkled with black iridescence and she thought it was pure obsidian at first, but the burn told her it was more. When he moved it there were dull spots in it. Iron. That just topped of her day.
The pressure of the knife drew a grunt of pain from her at first, but the more he cut the worst it got. He didn’t just cut, he flayed skin off her chest, carving ugly yet elegantly formed runes into her chest. She couldn’t see, but the crowd called out what it said as the priest stepped back. The word ‘murderer’ rang through her ears. They weren’t wrong, but she hadn’t murdered him. Others yes, but not Isthan. She was breathing hard in pain, struggling with the ropes and chains that held her immobile. The priest started on the next rune and this one drew more pained gasps than the first. It was when he dropped below her breasts, over her ribs, that it really grew painful. She struggled harder, her body coated in red as chunks of her flesh hit the platform with sickening thuds. She was starting to get light headed from the blood loss. She was sure that in spots he had cut deep enough to expose muscle.
Thinking was getting hard and she stopped struggling, her pants soaked with blood. The last rune was called out through the crowd. Murder. Kin slayer. Traitor. Death. That word death rang in her ears and she knew that it wouldn’t be much longer now. Fealwen was speaking again, something about making an example of the prisoner. Freedom’s mind was so scattered that the words made her frown and think it sucked to be that prisoner. It took a few heartbeats before her mind caught up and realized that the crazy elf meant her. Well, she had been right. It did suck to be her right now. She couldn’t even open her eyes, she was so weak. Freedom was glad of the restraints now or she’d be a pile of bloody pain on the platform.
As Fealwen talked the priest turned and began to sprinkle iron into her wounds which made her scream at the top of her lungs in agony. It burned and drained more of her strength. As she screamed there was a noise off in the distance. It sounded like swords ringing. She was hallucinating. The pain was causing it. It had to be. Fealwen turned to her, glaring at her like she had done something else wrong. Freedom’s unfocused eyes tried to meet her gaze, but she just sort of glanced and let her eyes drift shut again. ”Finish it! Now! I won’t let whatever is happening stop justice!”
Freedom forced her eyes open. So something was happening? It wasn’t a hallucination? She tried to form words but just as she did, the priest pressed the knife against her stomach, starting to cut her open going from the bottom up. He was going to disembowel her. She now understood why Fealwen had said she was going to die slow. That was an agonizing death. She couldn’t even struggle with how weak she was and the bonds. She could feel her skin opening slow, her insides already trying to press through the opening. There was a loud scream and the blade stopped. Freedom opened her eyes to find someone holding a blade to Fealwen’s neck. She didn’t recognize them, but the small man that walked into her line of sight a moment later she knew. Crinda. Was she dreaming?
Someone was behind her, undoing her bonds as she stared at him, not sure she was believing what she was seeing. She began to sag in her bonds as they loosened and Crinda stepped forward catching her as she cried out in pain. ”Shhh, child. I’d be more gentle with you, but my distraction won’t last long. I have to hurry.”
Freedom just nodded, licking her lips a few times before she could speak through them as they cracked. ”I’ll just… pass out… if that’s… alright…” She didn’t hear Crinda’s reply as darkness over took her.
A familiar smell assaulted her nose as she opened her eyes. Alcohol. She yawned and immediately regretted it. The pain put an end to the brief though that perhaps everything had just been a nightmare. She groaned and tried to push herself upright. Her wrists were till damaged and she sank back down, unable to hold herself up. Footsteps hit her ears and she turned her head to find Crinda looking at her. ”You’ve been unconscious for over a week and you think you can just jump out of bed?”
”Look here…” She started coughing from her throat being dry, but Crinda helped her sit up and drink a few sips of water. ”Now… look here little man, I didn’t know I’d been out for a week. If someone had told me before I woke up, I would have been more careful.”
The dwarf frowned at her and shook his head as he helped her lay back again. ”You must be on the mend. Your smart mouth is in proper working order.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. ”Do you remember what happened?”
Freedom looked away from him, answering his question without a word. Lifting the blanket, she wanted to see how bad it really was, but Crinda put his hands on hers and shook his head. ”It’s my body Crinda, I have to see it someday. “ He sighed, but let go of her hands.
The bandages were thick and tight, leaving her unable to pull them free. Her hands and wrists were wrapped up, healing from what had been done to her wrists. Crinda reached out when she nodded and began to undo them. The iron in the runes were making them heal slow and she knew there was no way those scars would ever fade. The sight of them made her sick and she swallowed hard. Her stomach held a long line of stitches. She let her head fall back with a sigh. ”They’re right you know. The runes. I am all those things.”
Crinda was putting the bandages back and he gave her a glare. ”Are you who they say you are, or are you who you say you are?”
”It’s one and the same.”
”Since when? I’ve heard you call yourself heartless. The same woman who provides shelters and goes hungry to fund them. The same one who has rules about who she kills and who she doesn’t? I think not. You know you didn't kill him. That's what matters."
Freedom rolled her eyes at him and looked away from him as he pulled the blankets back up. ”Sure. Whatever you say little man.”
”That’s boss. Having to save your ass meant I had to organize and I figure I might as well make something of it. You’re my first guild member. Whether you like it or not.”
Green eyes cut back to him and she lifted her hands. ”I’ve done stupider things in my life I suppose besides work for you. If I can work at all.”
Crinda rewarded her with a laugh and shook his head. ”You’re too stubborn not to get better. You’re not rushing though. This is going to take a long time. A very long time. “ Crinda brushed some of her hair back smiling at her and turned to the door.
Freedom sighed, without the distraction of conversation; her body pulled her back down into a healing sleep. Whether it would heal her mind and body or just her body was something that remained to be seen.
Apr 30 2015, 03:23 PM
There was no doubt about it. She had never been this nervous in her life. Yes, Fealwen had introduced her to other kings and queens before, but she had made it clear she had other ideas this time. D'nore was very worried she was thinking about marrying her off. She wasn't ready for that. She didn't know these people. She'd never heard anything about the family or the son of the rulers. She'd never seen him and Fealwen made it a point to tell her that he was from a long royal line, raised by his parents to rule. D'nore hadn't had that. She'd had Fealwen, but she hadn't been making the decisions long for Alden. Not that she did them alone even now. She'd be lost without Fealwen to guide her. The woman was her regent basically, but she was slowly letting D'nore do more and more as the days went by. That was great, but the young elf really questioned if she was ready. She was only 300. That was very young by her peoples standards. That was probably why the people allowed Fealwen to stay with her and help .
The elf pushed her hair back from her face a bit, sighing as she stood on the deck of the ship with her hood up. It had been what seemed like months since they had left home. She missed the dark shade of the great trees, the rolling green hills and the soft music that played all through the city. She put her gloved hands on the rail of the ship with a sigh. D'nore didn't know anything about this place. Not really. She knew it was a kingdom that had a lot of mountains and snow, which was beautiful in it's own right, but could it compare to Ireland's green shores? She didn't think so. Fealwen had mentioned dragons, which she was eager to see. They had a few in Alden, but they mostly stayed out of site and hidden.
The docks were just coming into view as she stood there watching, listening to the ship hands yell back and forth about what they needed to change and what needed done. She wouldn't mind this as much if they could have come at night. At least Fealwen had promised to explain to them about her sun issues so that she didn't seem rude avoiding things that would have her in the sun for too long. She looked around for her "Aunt" as she called her, wondering where she was as the ship pulled into the dock. Was someone meeting them here or did they have to ride on into this strange country in order to reach the people they were meeting? Not seeing her at first glance she went back to watching the approaching coast town, her green eyes darting along the shore nervously.
She was relieved to find that there was no escort or need for her to meet anyone yet. They had to ride to the castle still. The ride, thankfully was uneventful and they reached Jera with no incidents. D'nore knew she should be grateful, but she was still nervous. "I don't know if I can do this Auntie."
Fealwen looked at her and smiled her hair catching the sun nicely as she they rode. "Of course you can dear. Just be yourself and you're going to be fine. They'll love you. This issue that has reared it's ugly head will take all the allies we can get by any means that we can get them. You can do this for your people can't you child?"
D'nore pulled her hood up further as they stopped at the city gates and nodded. "I'll do what I have to do to keep me and mine safe from harm." Just as long as these people didn't think her a freak with her strange powers and odd habits of avoiding the sun and iron. "Right. I suppose we should keep going then." Fealwen smiled at her and motioned one of their guards forward to the gate to announce them as they made their way to the gates of the beautiful city.
Apr 3 2015, 02:39 PM
Freedom was having a lazy day. She'd been having a lot of those of late. As much as things had gotten better, mentally and physically, something would never be the same for her. She was dealing though, thanks to Vince, Lily, Rachel and Kelly. Crinda had helped too by not pushing her to work and letting her take the time she needed. She was happy overall. Vince was amazing, working so hard to get her back to normal, being supportive. Lily was a great distraction with her training and just hanging out. The elf lifted the whiskey bottle to her lips, taking a drink and picked up one of her blade, cleaning and sharping it to keep her mind busy.
Her green eyes flicked to the computer sitting next to where she was working, watching the final minutes count down for an antique blade that she was bidding on. The money was up over fifty thousand dollars, but she didn't care. She knew who the blade had belonged to and she had its mate already. It was a tradition for her to monitor and watch for people she knew's things to come up on these sites. This person happened to be dead and she couldn't return it to them, but she'd keep it and their memory that way it wasn't lost and unappreciated out in the world. The price jumped almost double with thirty seconds to go and she typed in her next bid, waiting till one second to hit enter. It went in and she won. The elf laughed and let out a woot, lifting her whiskey bottle triumphantly before taking a big drink and pressing up to go get her phone.
She text Vince telling him she won the blade she'd been looking for, enjoying she could share those things with him. Laying down her phone, she stuck her head in the fridge looking for something to eat. "Gah, why in the fifty hells do I bother having a fridge? It's always empty." Shutting the door, she pushed her hand through her hair and debated on ordering food. Finally deciding on chinese, she walked to the computer and put in her order before before going back to work on her blades. It'd be a good twenty or thirty minutes before the food got there, but that was fine. She'd have time to finish up this blade and put her things away. Maybe she could find a movie to watch on the computer. It wasn't like she had a television. She got up, beginning to put things away. She had metal shavings all over her shirt and decided since the only person she was seeing tonight was the delivery guy, she'd relax. Heading to her room, she slid out of her leather pants and into a pair of pajama pants and a clean black tee shirt. That was better. Feeling more comfortable, she sank down on the couch pulled the laptop into her lap and began to look for something to watch. She didn't really know anything about movies, so this was going to take while, luckily she had all night to kill.
Jan 18 2015, 03:06 PM
This was an unusual meeting. Surface elves meeting with Drow. Though Fealwen was far from a normal surface elf. She was far better than the pure breed nature loving idiots. She would get the elven people where they needed to be to rule the surface. Of that she was sure. She just had one small, squirming, crying and annoying problem to take care of. The four year old was hungry and thirsty. She proceeded to let the whole population of the cave they stood in know this fact. Turning to glare at the men who held the cage the girl was locked into she motioned to the child. ”Shut. Her. Up. Now.”
One of the men pulled a cloth out of his pack and shoved it in the girls mouth which made her fight and try to get past him out of the cage. The other man grabbed her and held her while the first tied another cloth around her mouth to hold the first in. Then to make sure she couldn’t pull it out, he tied her hands behind her back. The young child was crying now, her nose running and thrashing around the cage. At least it was a muted sound.
It was no secret that the Drow society had a heavy slant on slavery. Normally, surface elves were not made slaves, but killed on sight. Fealwen needed this one to live. For a while at least, until she was sure she wouldn’t need her. It had taken a lot of gold to make this happen. Now she was waiting on her contact to show up. The girl had quieted down to just sniffles and snot bubbles, which was a relief. Another twenty minutes, which in the dark seemed forever, showed movement on the other side of the cavern. She could only pick up on the sound of something on the floor. The squad of warriors with her were at attention, listening. Slowly, the drow of house Kilvi’ir, began to move into the circle of magic light that Fealwen had set up. The light was dim, not giving the surface elves much light, but not completely blinding the drow either.
The Matron Mother, with whom Fealwen had corresponded was not in the group, but that was to be expected. This was her territory, she shouldn’t sink to a surface elves level and make a personal appearance. The Drow that appeared was one of the younger Priestesses in the house. Fealwen swallowed her pride for the sake of this highly important arrangement and bowed to the younger dark elf. Greetings the great house of Kilvi’ir. I am honored to be in your presences Priestess.”
The woman inclined her head and walked past the woman to the cage. ”This is the child you have sold the Matron Mother? Another surface elf?”
Fealwen turned to look at her. ”Yes, it is. She is a prisoner and it is imperative that she stay alive for the foreseeable future, but not be a threat. Slavery is not looked upon with the favor it deserves on the surface, so I turned to your Matron. She agreed to take her as a slave and keep her alive at least until I determine I no longer might need her. You can teach her what you wish or not. You may treat her as you wish as she will be your property, I only ask that her face not be marred and her life not be taken for a time.”
The female drow laughed and motioned for her own men to come forward and take the cage from the other elves. ”Seeing as she is now house property, we did not need your permission to do anything with her. As my Mother agreed to not killing of messing up her soft face, we will honor it. Now, be gone from our lands before a sad end comes for you.”
The young elf sat up with a gasp, covered in sweat. The small cubbyhole like space that she slept was pitch black, the small curtain pulled closed on it. She had long ago grown tall enough that she had to sleep with her legs drawn up to fit, but it was better than sleeping out with the food animals. The dream had been so vivid. A cage. People talking about her. Light. There was never true light here. How did she know what it was? She’d been in the underdark as a slave as long as he could remember. Sighing she sank back down into the patchwork cloth that covered her. Very carefully, she reached out and pulled back the cloth. The house was silent. That meant everyone was asleep or out doing what drow do. Killing, murdering, planning house take overs. She rolled her shoulder, frowning. It was still sore from where one of the Priestesses had hit it with her whip.
Sighing, she pushed the curtain back. There was no going back to sleep. She might as well get up and get a start on her cleaning. It was her day to clean the temple floor. She could get a few hours cleaning in before they gave them what they called breakfast. For some reason, she always got given a chunk of minerals to take. Something to do with being a ‘lousy surface elf’ and not seeing the sun. She didn’t get it. She didn’t try to. At least waking up this early, there was less chance of anyone seeing her get up without her lantern. Her eyes glanced around, making sure the kitchen area was empty before she stood up and stretched. Picking up her ‘lantern’ she walked barefooted towards where the cleaning stuff was. Her hair was a knotted mess, but tomorrow was the say the slaves were allowed to bathe. No point in brushing it out now. It would be easier after she’d washed it.
Gathering her things to clean the floor, she put them on a small board with wheels that she could pull so she wouldn’t make a mess as she walked. Her lantern was in her hand ready to be opened if she heard anyone else. The other slaves had warned her since she was a child to keep it a secret that she could see just like the drows did. She didn’t meet anyone through the halls and the levels. When she reached the temple she put all her things in the corner and sank down against the wall. She was only allowed in her to clean, but sometimes she snuck in for some moments of quiet. She took a deep breath and lifted her hands, letting her fingers move the shadows that seemed to cling to her like a fog sometimes.
She sat in the dark corner, weaving images of caverns, of the images that the other slaves had told her. How trees looked, horses, all the things she’d heard over the years from slaves that had been to the surface for various reasons. She dreamed about going, but she knew they’d never let her leave. She was a possession, one that was different from even the rest of the possessions.