Leaving Gobaith

[Devrah Liioness]

The next day, the same three men come to their room, this time accompanied by Scall. Ghurkin's hand is wrapped in dirty gray cloth, probably from an old sail.

"Land sighted ahead," Scall comments oily, "Would you ladies desire an escort to shore?" He laughs darkly at his own joke, and jerks his head at Devrah. The other men skirt around her uneasily, but she still seems only semi-concious; when they lift her, her skin is feverishly hot. They carry her weight above deck, seeming uneasy, like she might somehow bite again.

*~*~*

Scall leans close and whispers in Irania's ear.

"You're my favorite. I never did like redheads much." he grins evilly in her face, and lifts her in his arms, to carry her off the ship.

*~*~*

The men carry Devrah to a big, low-ceilinged cave on a strange island she has never seen before. They toss her roughly on the ground in the rear of the cave, and then they go to build a fire. Gaining bravery by Devrah's lack of response, they start taunting her:

"'Ey, not so tuff witchyer new tattoos, arntchya?"

"Heheh, no need to be so quiet... Falmuth likes when the ladies scream fer 'im."

Oh, if looks could kill, the mother of all death spells would have been invented in that cave that day.

[Irania]

Hearing the words Scall spoke into her ear Irania have a disgusted snort and turned her head away, trying to avoid his rancid breath upon her face.

"Are you sure brunettes are any better?" Irania smirks as he lifts her from the bed. "I could have been a redhead in a past life." She tesnses as he holds her in his arms, obviously the discomfort from being so close to him was emanating from her greatly.

"We'll, as far as I know, you'll do." His grin was full of crooked teeth, one clearly shimmering gold in the light as he brought her above deck. It had been days since Irania had seen the sunlight and through this moment she found it almost have her a thin thread of hope that she might get through this.

* * * * * * * *

Once she was brought into the cave, Irania was places near Devrah, to her dissappointment. If only a bath was allowed. She thought her herself and wrinkled her nose. What am I thinking? There are more important things at hand right now then a damn bath... The ground was cold and slightly damp due to the fact that there was a crack in the cave cieling and it dripped water down in constant drops which landeright upon her legs. How am I going to get out of here?

"I think you two will be right at home here." Scall speaks in a deep tone which holds a hint of sarcasm. "I've got work to do. Ghurkin, try not to loose anymore fingers. You've of no use to me if you can't hold a damn rope in your hands." He quickly exites the cave, leaving behind the women and a few of him men to sit and watch. One thing was for sure, Irania did not like the way this man known as Scall looked at her. It have her a bad feeling. He was not a good man. Not in the least.

[Devrah Liioness]

It was the next day before Devrah was fully concious again, and she decided to pretend she wasn't, at least until she could think of a plan. Something, anything, that would get her out of this hellhole, as well as leaving a great deal of pirates missing essential body parts for sexual functioning.

There was no one in the cave for the moment, besides Devrah, Irania, and Ghurkin, who was rubbing his bandaged and mutilated hands together over a small fire.

From the position Devrah lay in, her arms numb and tired behind her back, her cheek flat against the stone floor, she had a good enough view of him to entertain vivid fantasies of holding his face down in the fire.

Just the thought of fire seemed to remind her body to burn all down her arms and back -- gods, what had they done to her? She wasn't going to leave until all of them had exprienced ten times more pain than they had given her. And the babies -- she had no way of knowing if they had survived, and if they had -- what had become of them. She had tucked a scrap of paper into the boat with them, grasped in her daughter's tiny hand. She reflected on what she had written - hoped it was enough that someday she could find them, or they could find her.

The paper had been roughly torn, and had born, in a brown ink, only a few words:

"Enzo and Niamh Liioness.

Find Windslasher."

Even now, Devrah didn't know what had prompted her to write that last part - she told ehrself that she had been trying to guide whoever found the children towards Taylor - but she knew the truth, and it gave her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was sending them to Kamik, wasn't she?

She was.

*~*~*

After a few hours, Devrah could no longer pretend to be unconcsious - it was just that when Ghurkin came near her and picked the end of her braid up gingerly with his good hand and made a disgusting kissy face at her, she couldn't help but growling and cursing at him. At first, he jumped away, skittish, but then he looked carefully at her restraints, and grinning, poked at a spot on her arm that now bore a black phoenix-shaped burn. Devrah gritted her teeth and gave him the look of death. He only laughed, spraying her with spittle, and this time scraped his dirty fingernails over the same spot. She was going to roast his balls over the fire. That was all there was to it, in her mind.

[Irania]

The two unlikely comapanions had been quiet for some time now, seeing as how Devrah was seemingly unconcious. This left Irania alone with her thoughts which consisted mainly of her life back on Gobaith. By now however, it seemed as though that life had occured years ago. The last person she had even seen was Brer, a man who reminded her so much of her husband, Cliu. He was in fact, the only one other than Stephen who knew she had even left. This though brought about a low sigh from from throat. I forgot to write to Quinasa. Looking around, Irania realized that this was actually the perfect time to regret.

Irania watched as Ghurkin began to tease her companion, a smirk across her lips seeing Devrah's discomfort. There was however, another emotion hidden well within her eyes. I know the look on his face. She now frowns and narrows her eyes at him. Even if it would only gives us some time...

Irania opens her mouth and screams.

[Devrah Liioness]

The next few days were the same: a pulsating, violent blur of hatred.

Every day, the leader of the men would take Irania somewhere outside of the cave. Devrah didn't have any way of knowing what was going on, but having the opinion that she did of Irania, she could speculate.

The men tried to force themselvs on her occasionally, but tied down and virtually defenseless as she was, she had one thing - a deep, fathomless hatred that created a terrifying emptiness in her eyes. Somehow, not one of them could keep in the proper condition when faced with that stare, and Devrah knew they were terrified of her then, even though she couldn't do a damn thing - yet. She hoped they had nightmares every night, nightmares that involved her ripping their organs from their bodies through very unpleasant means.

On the fifth day, Devrah noticed something. Whenever Irania was led away by the leader, she was generally complacent although Devrah could recognize the icy look in her eyes as a vengeful one. Whatever happened when Irania was outside of the cave didn't matter -- the fact was, the other woman was untied at least once a day, even if she was under supervision.

That gave Devrah an idea...

On the sixth day, Devrah didn't bite or kick. She kept her stare perfectly blank and hollow - a skill that had served her so often in the past, and she now called on it again.

She waited.

It didn't take long.

At the end of the sixth day, Ghurkin pointed his deformed hand at her.

"Yeh gon' behave now, missy?"

Devrah simply stared blankly at him.

Ghurkin pulled up his trousers importantly and grinned to hiself, his yellowed and decaying teeth nearly making Devrah throw up.

"'M gonna untie yeh. Get s'm wood fer da fire."

As he loosed her bonds, it took all of her willpower not to kill him then and there -- but no. If she was going to make them all pay, she had to play this right.

With six men watching her carefully, never more than half a pace behind, she gathered some wood. Her eyes were empty, and coupled with the pallor her skin had taken on since being in the cave, and the hideous black tattoos now marring her skin, she looked like the undead.

Knowing this gave her a curious pleasure.

[Irania]

The various hours Irania was taken from the cave were something she would rather not mention to anyone. Always when she returned she was somber and almost morbid even. Irania remembered this feeling as one she had experienced many years ago before she arrived on Gobaith. The past had made her who she was today and these events taking place would also shape her into what she would be in the future.

Now Irania sat against the wall, shifting her bound hands uncomfortably and perhaps even trying to squeezze out of the ropes. Devrah on the other hand simply rested there against the wall with her, looking deadly as ever. The familiar voice of Scall spoke up above the voices of the others.

"I'mma have my men untie ya. I want ya to bring back fwood for the fire and I don't want ya tryin' to get away. Ya won't get far anyway." He proceeded to untie their wrists and feet and shuffle them to the exit where a few of his men waited. The girls wandered not too far from them and begin to dilligantly, or so it seemed, collect the kindling for the flames.

"Devrah..." Irania whispered. "I don't like you and I know you don't like me...but we will need to work together if we want to get out of here." She pretended to be disinterested in her companion as they feined work. It wasn't hard for her to do so.

[Devrah Liioness]

Devrah's eyes glitter coldly as she gathers bits of bark from around the tree. She picks up a few strands of grasses and some rocks, too. She obviously doesn't care about the quality of the firewood. Her dark-emerald eyes shoot to Irania for the briefest of seconds, and then back the the crude-looking men lined against the walls.

"I want to kill them," Devrah whispers, her mouth barely moving, but the harsh tones coming through anyway.

"Do you have a plan?"

Devrah smirked slightly, hiding the gesture by bending down to pick up a piece of bark. "I need to find out where my things are being kept."

Irania knelt a little closer on the premise of gathering dry grasses for kindling. "I can distract them, when they let me loose..." What her means of distraction were, she didn't say.

"Good," Devrah whispered, and it was all she had time to say before the men were hollering for them to hurry up.

When they were back inside the cave, Devrah's jaded eyes glittered.

Did she have a plan?

She couldn't help but smirk to herself. Oh, yes, she had a plan allright. When she was finished with these men, they would wish she had simply castrated them all instead.

[Jason Tanner]

A small, little craft about the size of a canoe washes a shore with noone on it, or so it seems for the first second. When the boat suddenly hits the sandy beach, a man jumps up from his rest and puts his hand to the hilt of his sword, looking around. A dense fog surrounds himself and the boat as he scours the island; he notices a cave with a fire in it in the distance and a large object near it, most likely a ship. He begins to walk there for a while until he is able to see inside the cave.

He seems a bit disturbed by what he sees but moves in anyways, just seeming to want to be near the fire. As he steps closer to the entrance and is about 10 feet away, his bits of his metal armor that are visible from under his dark black cloak gleam brightly because of the light reflecting off it. As he steps into the actual cave he looks about, watching the 6 pirates stand up quickly and then looks to the two women, he seems disturbed by the tattoos burned into Devrah but only seems to recognize Irania.

He looks over the cave again, trying to asses the situation when one of the pirates comes up towards him and talks angrily towards him...

[Kamik Windslasher ~]

The blue bird was flying sky high, above the clouds.
From there, the bird could watch the whole world, surrounded by its great seas; the waves dancing to its mysterious song; the giantic creatures lurking in the shadow of the abyss; the secrets hidden in long lost scriptures, forgotten under the oceans.
From up there, the blue bird saw all.

And the half-elf knew that... because he was the bird.

Having always been used to the feeling of land beneath his boots, the half-elf was quite astonished with this recently discovered skill - flight. He felt so lighter, being armorless, and only wearing his feather cape. It was very cold in the sky, even though he was nearer to the Sun, but not colder enough to make it an experience not worth having.
And, suddenly, the bird noticed three similar forms floating on the water, down there, away even from his bird sight.
So, the bird cried loudly and his scream was that of a slashing axe sound; he opened his wings and went down, giving start and testing a low flight. Somehow - and perhaps because of his new acquired bird senses - he knew he should come and see. He, for one, wasn't the type of bird which fed curiosity, nevertheless, the half-elf was more of the kind of bird that never sings.
Yet, he should at least approach and see if those three small dots were possibly someone in need of help. He was the type of bird that never needed a reason to help people.
Much nearer now, the half-elf could see that, whatever that was, it was sparkling a soft green light, just like the light rays from the Sun above passing through the leaves during the warm and colorful Spring of Tol Vanima finest woods.
Tol Vanima? The Mystic Island of the Elves, he could not see that from where he was. No. He couldn't even see Gobaith. Where have they gone? He couldn't find the cold mountains of Varshikar, nor even the vast green fields of Briar.
He couldn't even feel his Hunter God.
No matter where he glanced, no matter where he stared, there was water. Nothing but blue water, such as himself. Was that so, his destiny? To never again have a place to land and rest his wings? Or worse, fall from the tiredness and become part of the sea, disappearing completely, turning he too into blue water?
Where was he?
Now it was too late. That thought had power and, having he thought about the idea of falling, he suddenly forgot how to keep flying and began to fall towards the water, now not so welcoming, but dangerously strong and harmful, like a mouth filled with sharp teeth and waiting for its prey.
And then the bird saw what was that which shone over the water. They were floating side by side, together and alone.

Those were the most beautiul emeralds the bird had ever seen.

But, look, he wasn't much more of a bird now, his feathers leaving his body into the form of man. And the man had a Silver Hand, which reflected the Sun for a moment.
The man opened his blue eyes and tried to reach for the stones before he hit the water. Both hands extended, the weight of his left metal hand hurting him, the man yelled a word. This word was a name and the yell was more of a shout, as if an advice for someone far away.
The half-elf could not get the emeralds, instead, when he hit the waters, one of the green stones sank with him, into the dark oblivion, being carried by the weight of the Hand.
As for the other two, they were sent way by the waves his body caused, drifting separated, into oposite ways, through the threads of destiny.
And away, his voice still eachoed:

"Devrah!"

"Devrah!", Kamik screamed as he woke up.
The same nightmare - again. He shook his head and slowly opened his eyes: the Sun was up in the sky and the waves were low; nothing was carried to the coast today, what was left of the ship he took. How many days have passed since then? Weeks? Months, years, ages? There wasn't a way to know and, besides, even though he was a half-elf, he knew not the powers of his elven blood relation to his ageing.
He pondered about going to sleep again and escaping from his terrible reality into a pleasant dream, or even a nightmare, but the hunger became a constant reminder of his situation from the time he woke to the time he would set rest again.
Feeling weak, but cautionsly, he stood and took a slow breath.
He had changed. His once strong and resistant body was now slim and thin like a snake, his beard of a greyish blue was long, and so was his hair. There were wounds through his body, some of them fresh wounds. Even standing seemed a great effort for him. Where once there was energy and life in his look, now there was only emptiness.
Everyday, waking, he forced himself to remember how he got there. How he had to dispose of his heavy armor and axe to at least try to survive after his ship hit into a rock. How his heavy metallic hand almost took his life when he tried to swim. How he only took that trip because of a letter he received from his father - the adventurer Dominik Windslasher - calling him for a meeting. He remembered how the letter mentioned that no one should know of his departure and that he should be cautious not to put others in danger. He remembered of how he asked a dwarf to forge his wedding ring into his Silver Hand before he went to the docks.
He remembered of Devrah and Taylor and...
Yes. Of course. He still thought about the baby, the one which's name would follow theirs dear friend.
He remembered of Revlen.
He had to remember, because that was the only way of surviving: by knowing what was waiting for him if he kept himself alive until he finds a way of going away from that deserted island.
"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Well, in terms, because there were creatures living there. And they only approached to the coast when they were hungry for fish. And Kamik surely wasn't planning on waiting to see if they'd care for a new kind of breakfeast.
He started to walk, the Silver Hand pending to his side, now a dead weight to him since he was too weak even to raise or move it. For a moment he remembered of his dream and he stoped.
He looked back, but then shook his head and continued.
He had no time for dreams in a place where the only dream was to be able to survive for the next day.

[Devrah Liioness]

Day by day, Devrah watched Irania carefully. The other woman had a way about her which Devrah had never had - she could put the men at ease. She was complacent and polite; servile but not quite docile. Her manner was perfect for Devrah's intentions... if only Devrah herself could successfully copy it. She had to get the men to trust her... only long enough to let her out of her ties for the briefest of moments so she could grab her...

Of course, that was the other catch. Devrah needed Irania to find out where her things were being kept, so Devrah could retrieve what she needed. So, for days she watched the other woman and tried to imitate her mannerisms. It was only mildly successful; she could wipe her eyes blank of expression, and she could give polite, simple answers, she could follow orders. The thing she could not do was dissipate the heavy aura of malice that had surrounded her since sometime after Kamik had left without notice.

Kamik...

She hadn't meant to think about him, but as she sat alone in the corner of the cave, bound tightly and yet, for the moment, virtually alone, her thoughts drifted to him nonetheless. The two men that remained in the cave were at its other end, comparing their shortswords. (Devrah had to bite back a derisive laugh at the metaphor she made in her head).

She leaned her head against the wall of the cave, ignoring the slight headache she had carried for weeks and the way her skin stil burned whenever she moved. Her instinct was, as always, protection: She wanted to preserve herself. Because of this, she wanted to hate Kamik. Her instinct was to hunt him down and kill him slowly - to stab his heart once for every time she had allowed him to see a glimpse of her own. Maybe there would have been another feeling beyond that instinct; maybe in the first instant she had gazed into her childrens' faces she had wanted only to love him again, to be one as they once had been -- maybe. But Devrah would never know that now. Something inside of her had snapped at the same time that the blackened scars had appeared all over her skin. The fragile thread between the feebly beating heart she had preserved all through childhood and the raging fierceness of a jungle queen had finally snapped; she didn't know what had happened to the former, and she didn't care.

She would kill him. If she saw him, she would kill him, for one single reason: He had seen her weak. He had seen her heart bleed, and then he had left and she vowed that he wouldn't remain alive, harboring the knowledge of what hid behind her jaded gaze. These thoughts swirling amidst the formulating plans for escape she had, she drifted into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep.

*~*~*

She stretched from her vantage point high in the trees, and was only faintly surprised to note that she had claws. She tossed her mighty head, the beautiful amber fur catching the fading sunlight. Her eyes, hunter's eyes, saw something moving; something in the branches of the next tree.

The lioness leapt, her form graceful as her muscles tightened and then sprung her forward; the tight, powerful feline body seemed to writhe in every direction beneath her sleek coat. She landed light as a feather in the next tree; and then her eyes fixed hungrily on her inteneded pray. A large, brightly-plumed bird. The lioness licked her lips; she wasn't hungry but she enjoyed the hunt to an almost perverse degree. Her hind legs flexed in anticipation of the mighty leap -- and then she made it. She pounced on the bird-form, and it tried to take flight but it was not match for her; nor was its frame a match for her powerful jaws. She used her teeth to break the bird's neck, then she spit it to the ground to admire her kill. Jumping lightly yet powerfully down to the ground, she examined the fallen, dead bird. The lioness was confused; why did the bird have a metal wing? Was that why it couldn't fly? Next, the great cat noticed that the bird was clutching something in its talons; she pawed them apart and saw two brilliant emeralds winking up at her. And then something she ahd not been prepared for happened; a great, heavy wave of despair washed over the beautiful jungle queen. Not knowing why, the lioness was as sad as she had ever been for the poor bird's demise.

*~*~*

When Devrah awoke next, her face was wet. Her first thought was that she had been attacked by the vicious lion in her dream; then when she realized where she was, another ealization came to her: the most bitter and brutal thing... The lioness wasn't going to attack her, because she was the lioness. The moisture on her face was her own tears (the first ones she had cried since her firstborn had been killed, and one of a small handful of times in her lifetime). It might as well have been Kamik's blood for the dream she had dreamt, but wasn't she supposed to relish that?

Why, then, when she turned her thoughts back to her anger, when she imagined the point of her dagger piercing him, why did she feel the same all-consuming despair that the lion in her dreams had felt?

[Irania]

Once Irania awoke she could see a few rays of sun slipping in through the opening of the save entrance, spilling across the dirt and rock. She hadn't spend nealy enough time in the sun, which wasn't too much of a problem seeing as that as a miner she was used to the dank and dark of caves. It was that she couldn't leave if she wanted, to enjoy the light and air as a free person. The imprisonment was beginning to take it's toll on her, not only in body, but also in mind. She kept up a strong willed appearance, but inside she was fearful that she would die there.

A shadow overtook the few rays of sun in the entrance. It was Scall, the man who had taken such liking to her as her time there passed. His grin was sly and his eyes glinted with a familiar interest.

"Little Lady, you ready fer a walk?" It was more of a statement or a demand than an actual question. Irania showed no interest whatsoever yet also did not put up a struggle in any way. He untied her and lead her by the shoulder out of the cave with a powerful grip. Once outside she closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of the sun which she only seen a small amount of since her unwanted arrival. The smell of trees and salt water filled her lungs , causing her to sigh almost in pleasure. Her time in the open however was cut short as he lead her to a familiar tent, one which smelled of leather and fish, a strange mixture which made her feel sick to her stomach. She unconciously, and out of habit, wandered over to a slat, uncomfortable mat on the floor where she had taken seat each time she'd been brought to the tent.

"S'cuse me, Dove." He's tone was sickeningly sweet, a false sweetness at that. Nothing about this man was sweet, or ever could be. He wandered on out of the tent, not far, she could still see his feet from where she sat. Never once had he left her there alone, always kept his eyes on her. This is my chance! This thought was loud, even in her own head, it echoed. Egging her on. In the corner, merely feet from where she now sat, was a small chest, no doubt filled with something useful. Perhaps something she could use to her advantage. Slowly, carefully, and quietly, Irania shifted herself over, taking care not to attract his attention. Then about, he coud re-enter at any point in time. Reaching her hand out, she slowly lifted the lifted the lid of the chest, it wasn't locked. Her pulse raced, her mouth was dry, and her hands shook visibly with fear. Peering inside, she licked her lips and swallowed though there was no salive to go down. Not only her bag, but Devrahs as well were snugly places amongst a few plain daggers and parchments. His voice become noticable to her ears once more and she dropped the top of the crate, which closed down with a thud, and slid back into her place. Gods, please...I hope he didn't see me. This thought was pleading and fearful.

"I've some fruit on it's way, Dove. We'll enjoy ourselves t'day, eh?" His grin was wicked. He had not seen her nor had he heard the chest close. Though Irania still sat, shaking from leftover unease.

Devrah would be glad to hear of this.