Thunder boomed in the sky, shaking and creaking the old rickety buildings of the Dismal District, condescendingly named by the upper class citizens of Drakenport. The hapless destitutes who reside in this part of town refer to it as Rotten Row, the name correctly referring to both the musky aromas filling the streets as well as the corrupted souls of the many unscrupulous urchins that can be found wandering them.
Kara was very aware of the reputation of these streets as she hurriedly shuffled through the heavy rain, pulling the hood of her cloak down to shield her eyes. After delivering a package of rare herbs to a friendly innkeeper in the area, a gift from her mentor, she had received a stern warning and an offer of lodging for the night.
“There ‘ave been six killings this week,” the old man had warned. “All of ‘em bein’ pretty young gals, as yerself. An’ the last was a nice Elvish lass,” he added with a glance at her pointy ears. “A room can be prepared for you to keep safe till dawn.”
After politely declining the offer, she left with one piece of advice from the old man. He told her to keep moving, and to move fast. But the pelting rain, the powerful gusts of wind, the thick layer of mud along the surface of the dirt road, all prevented her from keeping to the old man’s advice. The storm’s ferocity grew with each hurried step.
The only flickering light came from the windows of houses and taverns along the street, barely penetrating the darkness of the storm. She hadn’t been walking long when the Elven woman started to feel uncomfortable. She felt the uneasy gaze of something from the lightless street surrounding her. Her heart began beating steadily faster and she had to will herself to push on, to force her legs to ignore the storm and quicken her pace.
A streak of lightning raced to the ground somewhere ahead of her, bringing momentary clarity to the darkness. The resulting boom of thunder shook the whole district, and nearly knocked Kara off her feet. The vibration she could still feel in her feet however, is not what halted her run. That powerful flash of brilliant light pushed all darkness away for a brief moment, and in that heartbeat she could clearly see the path in front of her. There, on the muddy road, two houses ahead, stood a large burly man, staring right at her. She could only see him for a breath, but she was sure she saw him smiling.
Unable to see more than a wagon’s length in front of her she began backpedaling slowly, away from the unknown man waiting for her in the darkness. She had only gone a few steps when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. Jerking her head to the left, she locked her gaze on another man, skulking toward her from an alley. He was also smiling wickedly, showing his crooked, yellow teeth. Even through the storm she could taste the stench of alcohol emanating from the brute.
When he was only a horse length away, her instincts kicked in and she turned away, dashing through the pouring rain as quickly as her legs would take her. The hood of her cloak flew back, exposing her long dark hair to the rain. Wiping it from her face as she ran, she could just make out an almost inaudible laughter chasing her through the storm.
Torchlight in the distance brought a gleam of hope to her eye. She dashed to the right, running down a covered alley with torches on the wall. She quickly slowed as she reached the end of the alleyway, realizing her situation. There was no way out, no doors, no windows, no outlet to another street.
Again the laughter was behind her, a deep menacing chuckle that caused her to turn around to see the two assailants strolling toward her casually, wickedness in their eyes. Her gaze shifted to the ground in front of her as she took a deep, steadying breath.
“Look what we got ‘ere.” The closer man grumbled. “Such a sweet little Elfy.”
“Aye. She’ll make for a fun one, won’t she,” the other added with a grunt.
“I ‘ope she screams like the others.”
The closer man started advancing, drawing a jagged-edged dagger from his belt and licking his lips. Kara slowly raised her gaze back to her attackers and stopped them for a moment with her melodic voice.
“Oh, I won’t be the one screaming,” she spoke just loudly enough for them to hear.
The brute, now only a few paces from her, paused. His expression twisted in confusion as he looked upon her pale face. Her soft, pale, beautiful, Elven face, which held a wicked grin spread across her lips. She brushed her cloak back across her shoulders, revealing her form fitting purple robe and dark leather belt, on which hung a black hilted curved dagger.
He raised his dagger and charged her. In a flash, her gaze sharpened. Her pale green eyes began to glow with a fierceness that sent a shiver through the large man. She drew her dagger in her right hand and stepped in toward her attacker. With a quick thrust, too quick for him to see, Kara plunged her curved blade straight into the man’s chest, raising her left arm to block the down swing of his dagger wielding hand. They stood there for a breath, eyes locked, as she twisted the blade and yanked it out of him.
Her eyes began to burn brightly with an intense pale green light, and he couldn’t turn away. With a quick spin in her hand, she held her dagger in a reverse grip. Side stepping to the left, she brought it’s unnaturally sharp edge across his throat and walked by, hearing the thud as he hit the hard, dry dirt floor of the alley. Shaking himself out of his stupor, the second, and larger of the men let out a defiant roar.
“You’ll pay for that wench! That was me brother!” he yelled as he charged forward.
“No,” she replied, holding her empty hand out in front of her.
A flash of green light exploded from her palm and the brute froze in place, mid stride. His eyes went wide with fear. His expression turned from anger to confusion as he tried to understand his sudden loss of control.
She stepped toward him slowly, her grin now a vicious scowl.
“Your brother was he?” she demanded more than asked. “Well you and your brother have a lot to answer for.”
“6 killings!” she shouted in his face. “And last week, the young, innocent Elf woman… Do you remember her?”
The man stared blankly at her offering no response.
“She was my sister,” Kara said as she turned away from him. “She never did a thing to deserve such evil, and you don’t even remember her?”
She turned back to him and shot him a glare that sent a shiver through his unresponsive body. In two quick strides she was before the man, reaching out and clenching his thick throat in her small hand. She stared deeply in his eyes and he could see a fire building in those green orbs.
“Well you will remember me, in whatever hell you end up in,” she whispered calmly. “I promise.”
Suddenly her hand became scorching hot, matching the intensity of her eyes. She whispered a few words, foreign to the man and he could do nothing but stand there, paralyzed in her grip, as a burst of green flames exploded from her hands and engulfed his entire body.
She took a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact with her burning victim. He could not run away, could not move at all. All he could do was scream out in terror as his flesh was melted away. She could see the pain and anguish pouring from his eyes as she watched the felfire consume the man’s body and soul.
When not even a pile of ash remained on the scorched earth, Kara began to walk back out into the storm. She pulled her hood over her head and wrapped her cloak around her tightly as she disappeared into the darkness of the storm.
Randumb Thoughts 