Saga 11- Treachery

Raven, Maron and Minstra sat around a campfire, conducting a quiet conversation. The moon was low in the sky, but full, and the camp was brightly lit. Crickets chirped in the long grass, and in the forest behind them, an owl called loudly.
“Will he do?” asked Raven, her voice hushed in the cool night air.

In front of them, a way off, Daie and Aesine were conducting their own conversation. They had a campfire, and were attempting to roast a few slices of bacon over it, with no acceptable results: both sported singed eyebrows and burnt clothing. Aesine was in charge of the arcane section of Starshadow, and as such they had not had much opportunity to talk. Plus, she had been one of the mercenaries sent to cleanse the Bandit’s nest some weeks ago, and as such had been absent for a while. Upon her return, she had bumped into the young ranger, and had taken the opportunity to talk to him. He’d quickly found out a few things about her. Her name was Aesine, and that she came from a forest, a large one, but she hadn’t told him which. She was a wild elf, and a sorceress, a profession not uncommon amongst her kind.
Their conversation had been one sided at first, her providing clipped answers to his questions, but after a while she’d warmed up to him, and began to share more information. He’d learned that she was an extremely friendly person, and very easy to get along with, despite her inherent shyness.

“He seems alright” replied Minstra “He’s intelligent, and I think he could keep the secret. Plus, he’s also a very good fighter.”
Raven nodded, and shivered slightly, remembering the feeling of his wooden training blade slicing across her throat. After the previous night’s events, she had not had the opportunity to speak to Daie, but in all honesty, she did not want to. In her mind, all was clear. She had offered herself to him, he had spurned her. The rejection was more painful than anything she had ever experienced, but, with practised drow experience, she was hiding the pain, keeping it locked within, letting no hint of the anguish she felt escape.
“If he grows up a bit, and loosens up he’d be perfect in my opinion” finished Minstra.
“Perfect?” asked Maron, raising an eyebrow.
Minstra waved an arm at Maron, casually.
“Well, what do you think of him?” she asked Maron, trying to turn the tables.
“I like him; he’s smart, a good laugh, charismatic, charming, and a good fighter. His only drawbacks are his lack of maturity, and his temper.”
“What do you mean his lack of maturity? Surely he is not childish?” Raven asked.
“No, but he knows little of the ways of the world.”
“And his doting admirer here never lets him fight.” Minstra added, chuckling.
“I do not dote on him!” Raven exclaimed, in a fierce whisper. Liar, she thought.
“You do.” Maron argued.
“So, are we agreed? Shall we take him?” Raven asked, switching away from the frankly painful subject.
Maron and Minstra nodded, wondering why they’d managed to hit a sore point there.
“Very well, we’ll take Daie to Shadowdale”

Daie’s ears perked up, and twitched back, like a cats. He frowned slightly. Why in the hells did they want to take him to Shadowdale?
He’d heard their whole conversation, and it had been his divided concentration which had caused his mistakes with the fire. He resolved to work this out later. The elf turned his attention back to the task at hand. He frowned, leant forward and removed the bacon from the fire, and not a second too late. The pan leapt into flames it’s oil igniting, and they leapt back to avoid being immolated.

“Good, Daie. Too under cooked, but it’ll do for now.” She produced two plates from her pack “Eat it now?”
“In a moment” Daie answered “Dranald wants to speak to me about something.”
Aesine frowned “Watch yourself”
“Always” he replied, laughing, and waving a hand as he walked away.


He approached Dranald’s tent, and coughed loudly.
“Enter.” He heard the half-orc shout.
Daie did so. The tent was gloomily dark, and smoky. Dranald was not by himself. Several of his lackeys were inside. The elf began to feel very uncomfortable. He slowly lowered his hands to rest on the hilts of his swords, knowing with a sick feeling that the blades were too long to be used in such a cramped area. He heard two men slip behind him to block him, and he whirled.
“What’s this?” he cried. Daie knew that this tent was sufficiently far from the others that he was unlikely to be heard above the sounds of the company dining. Two hundred demi-humans feasting were hardly silent.

“The fact of the matter is, Daie, Raven’s days as leader are numbered. That number is one. Will you follow me as leader? I think not. You are too smitten with our beautiful liege to let me kill her. And frankly, I cannot leave you as a ‘rogue element’ in tomorrow’s festivities. I wish it were otherwise, you would make a splendid ally, but the hearts of young men are easily swayed. A pity I must kill your dusky beauty. But, be thankful that you will arrive in Arvandor in time to prepare it for her.”
Daie gulped.
“Anyway, I will never forgive you my defeat in our sparring match.”
”Tyron, be reasonable, that was nearly six months ago!”
“Nevertheless, you are to be removed from the equation.”
He nodded, and Daie felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, then darkness rushed up to embrace him…