From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

The Last of the Frost Witches wonders if she'll ever see daylight again, and perhaps fate has plans for her yet.

Fellsgard is the foundation of Khy'eras' history and through reconstruction, it is now a vibrant and lively city. People reside here due to mild climate, opportunities, and safety and stability. Adventures often start from Fellsgard. Read more...
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Katarya Frost
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From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Katarya Frost »

“Get some rest, witch. There’s more than me on duty tonight.”

The door of her cell slammed shut and darkness dominated once again.

How long had it been? Sometimes it felt like a few hours and other times, years. She knew it had been more than hours simply because of the number of guards who had come into the cell to beat her, violate her, abuse her. There had been so many. That’s the only way she knew. Time had become a fluttering concept in here, as she was debased and weakened.

It wasn’t just the guards, or the lack of sleep and food. It was the wards.

One thing she could remember was the first time she had been a victim to one of these visits, she had caught a glimpse of the walls as the guard placed his torch on the wall and undid his trousers.

Scratched and painted all around her; the walls, the ceiling, the floor, were intricate wards. Magic she recognised but could not comprehend, and she had not been able to study them at that time.

“Get the fuck away from me.” She hissed, rising to her feet as he approached her. “I’ll …”

A heavy punch to the face had sent her reeling back, hitting the back of her head against the cold stone wall. The warmth of her blood running from her lip a stark contrast to the coldness of her cell.

“Shut your filthy mouth, whore.”

Her anger had flared and she had hurled herself at him, trying to fight.

He had laughed as he quickly subdued her, raining down blow after blow until she was crumpled on the floor and gasping in pain. “Ny’sha curse you!” she said, spitting at him. She had been defiant … for a time.

No longer.

Now they came in the night ... or day; she could not tell what time it was in the darkness of the cell, and they did what they always did. She no longer fought. Instead her eyes would stare at the sigils and wards on the walls, trying to figure them out as grubby hands pawed at her, and her dress dragged off of her. All the while they would taunt her, call her a 'filthy witch', 'disgusting magic user'. "Where's your fancy magic now, bitch?" And they would laugh as she remained in silent agony.

She had sunk into despair when she knew she didn’t ever have the skill to undo these intricate and powerful wards. There were so many, and they weren’t just simple magic blocking wards … some of them were actively draining her.

And then there was another layer to her torture.

In the darkness, she could hear voices; voices that belonged to the people she had once cared for, some she had even loved. "I'm coming to get you. The voice of her former lover, Artemis Black, would whisper in the darkness. "We have a plan" or her kind, beloved friend Dáire. "Stay strong, Kat. We're coming." The voices had filled her with hope, that they had somehow found a way to get by the wards to communicate with her. In her delirious state, she even wept when her grandmother, Lilian, spoke to her as if she were just on the other side of the door. "My sweet child! Be brave. Soon you will be free."

But the voices changed over time. "You think I would come and rescue you? YOU? You deserve to rot for what you did to me. I hope they throw away the key.". Dáire: "How could you have done this to us? You betrayed us. You are beyond redemption Kat. You are sick." And worst was Lilian. "You have destroyed our family, ruined the name Frost. You are a disgrace to witches! How did I ever raise such a wicked child? It's best you die, you have done enough damage to our good name and to so may people. You are unloved, and will be forgotten. Let go, Kat. Just let go and begone from us."

The voices had gotten more and more insulting and degrading. Bringing up all her mistakes (of which there were many), reminding her over and over that she was alone, that no one was coming, that she was vile and evil and deserved to be here. At first she had screamed back at them, crushed by guilt self-loathing. But the voices simply laughed, loud and clear. Soon, she could no longer scream or shout or hope. All she heard now was the mocking laughter of spectres in the dark.

When Nyx had been killed … her beloved Nyx … a part of the magic she had put into her familiar could not get back to her through the wards, and so had simply dissipated, like mist in a strong wind. It was gone. She had already been weakened, and now ...

She realised then what her fate was. She would be drained to the point where her spirit was consumed by the enchantments on this cell. She would die, and there would be nothing left of her even after that. She would be utterly destroyed.

And so she gave up. She could not fight, charm, manipulate, or use magic. She had no friends coming for her - for surely someone would have come by now (she had given up on the idea that they simply might not know where she was; the I'l Fana Kelbé had ways, if they so wished). She would wither away, fade, and die. Her last days existing would be in a cell, bloodied, bruised, violated, raped and broken.

Katarya Frost was defeated.
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"Now is the Time, now is Hour, mine is the Magic, mine is the Power"
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Fëanáro Larkain
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Re: From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Fëanáro Larkain »

The door swung open, and Kat winced at the brightness of the torch the guard carried.

”Hope you weren’t sleeping, little witch.”

Aside from the wince, Katarya did not move. She never did. Her body was wasting away, but her spirit was going faster. In a sense, it was better this way. This numbness. She no longer felt what they did to her, not really. Yes, hurt. They liked her to scream, and when she stopped doing that, they hit harder until she did. Then she stopped, no matter what they did to her. There was nothing left in her to fuel the scream; no anger, no rage, no remorse, guilt, self-pity or regret. She was just a husk, now.

”I brought a friend. Let’s see if those lungs work when you meet him.”

With her back to her wall, Kat sat with her head bowed, her arms around her knees. She did not look up. She did not care if he had ‘brought a friend’, in fact, they usually did. They took a sadistic joy in watching each other violate and beat her.

”Get up.”
Kat heard the words like a distant echo. They didn’t seem real. What use did she have of them? Why should she obey what was not real?

”I said … get the fuck up!”

There was a cracking sound as the bat hit her across the face, sending her sprawling onto her side. Pain blossomed briefly, like lightning inside her skull. She wanted it, it was something. But it went as quickly as it came.

Up!

The second strike hit her side, but though her body flinched, the blessed pain did not bloom for her this time. Nor the next.

”Oh, fuck it. There’s others anyway, better. Filthy magic using bitch.”

Her eyes stared off into the distance as the guard began to undo his trousers. She could hear him struggling with a clasp or button, cursing all the while. The words meant nothing. This act no longer had any meaning for her. It had happened so many times that it was almost as if this had been her whole life. The wards had taken from her so many memories that only a few still remained, faint and fading. The only thing she could truly remember was the cell.


***

As Farro re-entered the dungeons hallway, he became aware that the previously open door still sat ajar, the man within sounding more irate now. It was the crack of something solid hitting flesh that peaked his curiosity once more. Sidling up to the door, he peered around the frame to find the Frost witch sprawled on the ground, once cheek shot with red, blood trickling from a wound across her cheek bone and a burly guard looming over. Another undoubtedly hired for his muscle mass rather than his brain capacity.

Farro lip curled in disgust as he realised the man was now unfastening his trousers, not only was the woman so filthy why would you want to touch her but the cell, everything, was beyond repulsive. It was no wonder humans died young and easily. Uninterested in the show about to take place, he strode up behind the woman's attacker, flicked out one of the delicate blades from his gauntlet, and sliced the man's neck in one swift, graceful arc.

He watched, unattached as the man crumpled to the floor, blood gurgling out of his throat and from between his fingers as he desperately tried to stem the flowing ruby liquid. It was then his gaze drifted to the downed witch, he shrugged as her dull, murky brown eyes met his, “Contract was over.” He said plainly, wiping the blood from his blade on the man's uniform and resheathing it at his wrist.

------------------------------
Top section thanks to Alex :D
Last edited by Fëanáro Larkain on March 22nd, 2020, 12:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Katarya Frost
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Re: From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Katarya Frost »

As the guard crumpled to the ground, thick wet blood spurting forth from the opened throat, Katarya's eyes flicked up to see a man - an Elf - standing in the doorway. For a moment, she just stared.

But something within her moved. The cell was open, the guard was dead. The repulsive creature had struggled to hold in the blood - she wondered why people tried that - and slumped to the floor. And he was Elf. Of course, not all Elves are good and pure, but Katarya Frost trusted Elves more than she trusted Humans, especially now.

Slowly, she pulled herself up, staggering slightly. She was weak and bruised from head to toe. Luckily she felt no pain; the wards and enchantments had sapped her her ability to even feel that. She drew herself up, and stood on her feet, light headed and dizzy, she closed her eyes a moment to get her bearings.

When she opened them, she fixed her eyes on the man in front of her. Those once icy blue eyes were now their normal colour of hazel brown, but they were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles against pale skin. She took a few breaths, as she considered the situation. Was this a trick? This man held himself with the air of self-assured, almost noble. But he was a killer. Clean and swift. Not like the bumbling thugs who had kept watch over her since she had been inside. She finally spoke, her voice a little croaky, her lips chapped through dehydration. "One day you shall have from me the greatest thing I can offer." She said, instead of the usual 'thank you'. She spoke in perfect Elvish

Moving forward unsteadily, she walked around the Elf and to the door, gritting her teeth as the magic in the walls pulled and tugged at her. It was almost as if she were being physically held back! But then she stepped out into the hall, and immediately fell to her knees with a cry.

The wards no longer had her, no longer leeched, no longer suppressed her. With that step, magic seemed to flutter inside her like a newly scratched match, and her power, though greatly diminished, returned at once.

What also happened was some taking of that power from spells and charms she had cast before her imprisonment. The curse on Artemis Black, the binding spell on Helo Tarran, and other lesser things. Those would need to be broken, if she were to recover faster. For she knew that now, she was as a child. It would take time to replenish.

She turned to look up at her saviour, and her eyes were different yet again. The ice-blue had gone, the pleasing hazel had vanished ... now the iris of her eye was as black as midnight. She rose to her feet, and though it was only a small flicker, it was if the shadows cast by the torches flitted around her as she did so. "You have done enough for me, but if you aid me further, if you get me away, then I will owe you a debt so great, and soon, I will have the power to give you much more, whatever it is that drives you." She winced as pain lanced her head, but remained as straight backed as she could. Her hair was loose and wild, she dirty and stunk, her exposed flesh all colours except that of healthy flesh, and dried blood was everywhere. "Take me with you," Katarya Frost asked. "Cundó." {Lord/Guardian}

And then: a scream.

Kat turned her head in it's direction, letting out a slow breath. "Whatever that is ..." She turned to him, her expression had not changed. "I would be powerless against it." There was no wounded pride in her voice, just simple fact. The magic released during that charged scream was like a hurricane in the confined holding cells. Her eyes turned to the cell she had been imprisoned in; the wards would protect her, but to go back inside ...
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"Now is the Time, now is Hour, mine is the Magic, mine is the Power"
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Fëanáro Larkain
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Re: From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Fëanáro Larkain »

Farro watched in quiet amusement as the woman lumbered to her feet, moving to the door without a word to him, he followed her though, watching every movement as cat may a mouse it’s intending to play with. He looked over her with a casual interest, taking in her filthy, bedraggled state, the dirt that smeathed every inch of exposed skin to the dark rings that circled flat brown eyes, as cold and unfeeling as that of a dead tree.

He smirked as her face twitched with an emotion he wasn't quite able to decipher, but he could easily imagine what she was seeing. He knew he was imposing, even as short for an elf as he was. He’d earned this air of deadly intent that he wore like a old and beloved cloak whenever he found himself working. The feeble noise that escaped the cracked lips in a surprisingly fluent elvish tongue. had him snorting derisively, the girl was foolish for saying any such declaration to him. To her, he simply lifted a single condescending brow. He very much doubted anything she had would interest him but he often found himself bored, and this situation had potential.

Turning slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the young witch as she moved around him a slow, stuttering gait, unsure if she were to stumble, whether he’d allow her to fall to the unforgiving stone slabbed floor or catch her. When he watched her collapse on the far side of the doorway, he had his answer. A normal person may have felt some semblance of guilt for not assisting the vastly weakend human, but Farro didn't even feel a niggle of the emotion. He did however smell the sudden accumulation of a cherry scent around the girl, the tinge of rot lingered on the outskirts though.

‘Not entirely dark then’ he mused to himself. However as her face turned to seek his own out once more, eyes as deep and fathomless as the darkest night sky he'd ever seen, met his and her scent immediately began to change. The darkness that lurked deep within the gloom of the dungeon seemed to cling to her, lovingly encasing and caressing her person as she rose to unsteady legs once more.

Her words were almost those of a woman from noble birth when she spoke, but the witches he’d come across in his four centuries were rarely from such stock and in her current state, she looked more like a bargain whore from the slums. “Oh child,” He started, voice contemptuous as his face split into a smile, though it was a cool, calculating expression rather than anything that may put one's concerns to rest. “I would not have sprung you had I not intended to wield you to my advantage,“ he looked her up and down, disapproval or disappointment, it wasn't clear which lined his face as he took her in. “you’re not what I expected of a Frost witch, and you already owe me your life so your debt is already great, you would be wise not to offer anything further to a man such as I.”

As though disregarding his warning, she still asked him to take her with him, so in his mind, she had signed her contract and would fulfil it in full. Just as he was about to lay out the plan, a blood curdling scream erupted from the cell he’d only vacated minutes ago. He had no idea what that girl was, but the rush of magic that he could actually feel flowing through the air made him leap into action, not listening to the witches foolish words, he grabbed her frail body around the middle and tugged her non to gently back into the confines and protection of the dark cell. Reaching back around, he pulled the door just too, and backed into one of the heavily shadowed corners that lay to the right of the door, pulling his cloak over both of them in an attempt to hide any pale skin that would give them away.

“Stay quiet witch.” He hissed under his breath, “That gosling isn't something even I would like to have a tangle with any time soon.”

He held onto the witch and his cloak tightly, listening intently as the sound of booted feet on the level above thundered towards the stairwell descending to the dungeons, the men obviously unaware of the almost certain death that awaited them within the gloomy depths.
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Katarya Frost
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Re: From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Katarya Frost »

Katarya's teeth clenched for two reasons: one she had been put back in the cell that had been leeching from her, taking her magic and memories to a point where she thought she would whither and die, and the other because he put his hands on her. She never wanted anyone to touch her, ever again.

But what choice was there? The cell was the safest place to hide, even if it ...

As they stepped back inside, a moment of confusion ran through her mind. The wards were trying to their horrific work, pulling and tugging at her essence, at her spirit and very being. But it was not working. The magic of them swirled around her, invisible, but almost tangible, and yet they could not seem to pierce her. Her soul was a shadow now, diminished for the time being, but the magic of this cell had done something odd. It had almost taken all her powers, then a portion of it had come back, mixed with the dark magic of the wards and settled inside of her. The wards were nothing to her now. They would contain her, of course. She would be able to cast no spell in this dark, stinking room. It would also mask the two from being sensed by mages ... hopefully and especially the one outside.

Gosling?

In the darkness, she thought back to where she knew that word from, and why she hated it. Not in the cold fury she had once used to hate, but in a deep, unsettling way that she almost enjoyed.

Her lips curved into a smile as he spoke, commanding her silence.

Katarya was bound to this Elf. Did he even know it? Did he think it was just a debt she needed to repay? She was amused at the thought, despite what it actually meant. Her words had not been hollow ones, and without even knowing it, she realised she had given him control of her. Should he expressly command it, she would not be able to refuse. If she did, and persisted to try, it might even kill her.

But he didn't know that, and Kat was in no rush to educate the man.

She knew much of pride, and so she instead thought of what she might be able to do with him. Proud people, even those with a thousand years of life in them, fell to its power now and then. One day would come when that moment would present itself, and she would consider her debt repaid, and would give him the gift of being destroyed at her hands, and giving his essence to her void. He should be honoured.

Under his cloak, she listened and waited for whatever it was out there to do its work and be gone.

Katarya Frost's were now forming in her head.
Word count: 475
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"Now is the Time, now is Hour, mine is the Magic, mine is the Power"
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Fëanáro Larkain
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Re: From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Fëanáro Larkain »

As suddenly as the sounds of a brutal fight had begun, they ended, near silence settling over the cold hall and dank rooms like aheavy, oppressive blanket. It seemed no other prisoner was willing to risk drawing any attention to themselves, wisely so given what Farro feared he may have just unleashed back upon the streets of Felsgard. He shrugged inwardly right on the back of that consideration, if she became a problem, at least he’d have some decent sport to hunt.

Farro released an exaggerated breath, “I’m almost sorry I missed that party.” The words dripping with mock disappointment. Dropping the cloak and releasing the witch, he stepped around the human and peered out the door momentarily before glancing back at the witch with a smug smile. “How strong is your stomach kitty Kat?”

Kat looked up at him and raised a brow. “Have you smelt me? If I can stomach this, I assure you I can stomach anything.” She rose to her feet, almost regal like, were it not for her stained clothing, the smell, and the mess of bruises and cuts on her body. Her tangled, dirty hair was no longer in it’s braid. Her own grandmother wouldn’t have recognised the creature she had become.

Stepping forward and out of the cell, she looked down the corridor at the carnage. She made a small sound in her throat, almost like appreciation. “They had it coming.” She said. “The only sorrow I feel is that I was not the one to do it. I owe whatever did it a drink.” She turned her eyes to him. “Do you have a plan to get out of here? Or are we moving in?”


Farro’s face split into a genuinely amused grin, this little witch had spunk, it would have been rather unfortunate had he decided to free a dull and broken shell of a witch, there’d have been no fun in that at all! He followed her out of the cell, admiring the handiwork that had been laid out before him like an exhibit. “I have smelt you, and unfortunately for me, a bath will do nothing for the stench that circulates around your person.” He wrinkled his nose for good measure. She really did smell ripe. Over ripe. “And as for an escape plan, I had had one, but I do believe our charming little gosling cleared our path, if we’re lucky we’ll meet Gidious up there somewhere. I so would like to see the man piss himself in terror. Alas, I dare say he would see the blood left by our departed friends and scuttle back to his quarters like the insect he is.”

He moved towards the heavy door that led to the stairwell, toeing one of the corpses that was working perfectly as a doorstop. “Come little witchling, the inquisition will no doubt have been called and we have a few blocks west to cover. I find myself in need of some dwarven brandy.”

The house was deathly quiet as he crested the final step, leaning forward and confirming that the halls were in fact still empty, a few bloody, slightly savaged corpses tossed carelessly to the sides of the long hall. His senses picked up no signs of life anywhere, not even the faint sounds of voices from the surrounding grounds. He turned back to the witch, holding his arms out wide and grinning maniacally, “I do believe we could walk straight out his front door my lady.”

Kat followed dutifully along, her eyes trailing over the scene as Farro talked. He was a talker, and liked to be clever. Good. She liked that.

Her eyes narrowed as he spoke the name ‘Gidious’. “I have little doubt that my gracious host will be perfectly afraid. This pleases me.” She said, keeping a step behind him. Without magic, she had to rely on this Elf. Also, because of magic, she was unable to do anything but. “You may come to appreciate my … ‘stench’, in time. Or not. You don’t have to like me; not everyone has good taste.”

Her eyes scanned the house as they passed through. She ought to remember it, so that when she returned and brought the whole thing down, she would be even more pleased knowing she was destroying something so garishly lovely.

“Out the front door? Very daring.” She motioned at the oak wooden exit. “Aren’t you going to open it for me? Like a gentleman? I am just a poor, tired little witchling, afterall.” The corners of her mouth curled slightly.

“Sweet kitty Kat, a few centuries have not managed to improve the appeal of your peoples particular odour, but I’m sure I will learn to tolerate it for a while.” He smiled over at her, the words sickly sweet. Farro listened carefully again for any signs of life or movement beyond the front door, and still the grounds were as still as the graveyards at midnight.

In a sudden flouish of billowing cloak Farro strode to the house's immense front door, swinging it wide and striding out into the dark quite beyond. “Keep up poor, tired little witchling, I have no time to babysit dark humans. There are coins to be collected and fine foods awaiting me.” he carelessly threw the words over his shoulder as he headed for the main gate for the second time that day, the gravel path crunching delightfully under his fine boots as his breath clouding around his face in the increasingly nippy air.

He would have to think fast how he was going to handle this new addition to his household, he had nowhere else in Fellsgard he could really stash the girl, meaning she would learn of his Larkain cover. He decided to save that reveal for another day, sure the vast estate he held within the city's most prestigious district may seem unusual for a man in his line of work, but let her speculate. He may even enjoy the assumptions she made about him.

Kat followed along, her mind fixing on the word ‘food’. She hadn’t even realised how hungry she was, having been fed on something that could hardly lay claim to the word. Her senses were returning to her, trickling back like a leak in a dam. As they walked, the cold night air began to pinch at her, and her bare feet were slowly starting to feel sore as the gravel and stone did its work. She wanted a bath, a long, luxurious bath. For a full day, if she could. There were also other matters to attend to, but she needed to feel a bit better before attempting to try anything she had in her mind.

The outside world was a marvel to her. The darkness of night, which had been nothing more than that before, was now quite wonderful. Her eyes caught glimpses of flickering shadows and shapes in the black; spirits perhaps? What had happened to her? It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Katarya glanced at him. “I sincerely doubt that anyone paid you to release me … unless it was so that I might be killed at the hands of another. So I do wonder; what do you want with a ‘witchling’ like me? Surely an assassin as mighty as you isn’t looking to adopt a pet! You may find me ill-trained with a tendency to bite.” She chuckled as they moved through the city, following him as he moved stealthily along, doing her best to mimic his discretion. “Unless this coin you are collecting was for another prize?”


“Ah no,I’m afraid you were not my quarry this time Frosty. I was there for the gosling. You were merely a curiosity that took my fancy in that moment. Life can become dreadfully boring after a few centuries you know. I must admit though, anything Gidious covets is wonderful fun to steal from beneath his nose, it was just lucky for you that you were his flavour of the week while I was passing through.” he spun shooting her a cocky smile before spinning to face forwards once more, walking briskly down the paved streets towards home. “As for what do I want with a little witchling such as yourself? That is yet to be decided. I will undoubtedly find some way for you to entertain me.”
As a thought struck him, he turned back to face the witch and slipped one of the blades from his gauntlet, walking backwards with as much fluidity and ease as he had moving forwards. “I do expect your utter discretion where we are heading witch, I am not a man known for my mercy or tolerance of rule breaking. I highly doubt you wish to be on the wrong side of me - was going to say until we part ways,” He said almost breezily, “but even then it’s not a good plan, I hunt those who annoy me when I’m bored, and I always catch my prey.” ‘Except that one damned prince’ He added silently to himself. He pretended to get entranced by the slim blade he had been, and continued to twirl between his fingers, his voice becoming serious. “So here are the rules should you wish to see another night; Firstly, you do not say where you came from, I have no desire for that mage to ruin my lovely home. Secondly, if you breathe a word to anyone about what you learn of me, you will regret it, especially if you thought gidious was a poor host, I can be so much worse. And lastly, you are to keep you human fingers off any and all magic artifacts you will find within my home. I will smell it if you disobey.” He looked back up to her, a boyish grin brightening his classic elven face as he continued in an equally bright voice. “Any questions?”

Kat stood silent, her eyes on his as he spoke, the only change in her expression was the slight smile on her lips. He was fun! So filled with arrogance at his skills that he didn’t seem to consider that she could ever be a threat. But she also believed him. Should she cross him in her current state, she was dead. Should she do so when she was fully charged with this new, darker magic … then maybe the playing field would be levelled. However, she knew he would be a better ally than an enemy. After all, he had gotten in and out of Gidious’ estate, and she had not.

“No questions,” she said, airily. “If you have any more rules to proclaim, I am more than willing to stand and listen as you so obviously enjoy the sound of your own voice.” She looked at the blade a moment, then to him. “I have no intention of announcing myself, my whereabouts, or you to the world. And your little trinkets will be, I am sure, of no interest to me whatsoever.” She raised her chin, slightly. “I owe you a debt, which I shall repay. I have rules myself,” she said with confidence that she really shouldn’t have in her current state and situation. “No man shall be allowed to touch me, if I am to be in your service. Though I do not have any actual friends, I will not kill without need … unless it’s amusing … and, while I may be bound to do as you say, I expect to carry out these tasks wearing good quality clothes, some coin in my pocket, and freedom to use my powers as I see fit, making sure they do not conflict with your interests or draw unwanted attention.” Kat cocked her head slightly. “I’d also like a jackdaw … how does all that sound?”

Farro found himself chuckling deeply, a fiendish smirk playing about his lips as he evaluated the witch again, her attitude seeming to increase with every weary step she took. “And what if I were to refuse these demands, little witchling? That is quite the list to impose upon the one who could easily throw you right back into the hole that they only just pulled you out of. I’m trying to decide if your pride was one born of privilege... or foolishness.” He cocked his head, looking more like a confused puppy than the dangerous man he really was. “I shall not touch you- other men, they’re your problem. There are clothes at my home, you can choose what you want from those. If you can catch a bird, you can keep it, I care not. As for the rest, that will remain to be seen. ”




Kat nodded her head. She was used to getting her way with men, even without magic. She was no great beauty, but she was self assured and confident enough that she had always had a way of being able to appeal to their egos, their vanity or their lust. It seemed that this was going to be the case here, however.

She didn’t hesitate to agree to his counter; she was hardly in a position to, after all. And what he was giving was, in fact, very precious. She might well be able to take off and be just fine, but it would take a long time and a lot of effort. This was much easier, and she had the feeling that this Elf would make for a powerful master to her servant status, and maybe, eventually, theirs might become an alliance of equals. “Fine.” She said, after a moment.

Farro promptly spun on his heel and prowled forwards once again.They soon came across the junction leading to his street, the bare trees standing century along the sides and casting weak, ominous shadows on the cobbled road. His home looked eerie in the pale moonlight, the pale stone catching and holding the pearly light. Without missing a step, he rubbed the ring on his finger while passing through some particularly dense shadow, emerging out the otherside with his now blonde hair catching the gathering breeze. Glittering green eyes met Kat’s briefly as he made a sharp turn through the open gate, bounding up to the door with an easy grace, unlocking it swifty and slipping into the delicious heat beyond.

Katarya’s head cocked slightly as they slipped through the gate. Had he just used magic? Impossible! He was a Kersokan Elf, of that she was sure … she had spent enough time with them to see one a mile away. And yet, there was magic here. Something inside of her moved, and it was telling her to be wary, and to be careful. It was also telling her that she should be wise and make use of this. This was important

He waited impatiently for the girl to join him, the cold air feeling all the cooler now for the heat caressing his back. “Your room will be up the stairs, take a left and it’s the second room on the right. There are fresh clothes in the closet, find your size and make yourself presentable, Kitchen’s through there,” He pointed to the far end of the hall where adoor sat ajar, faint light spilling out through the crack. “ If you wish to join me for some food”. Closing and locking the door behind her, Farro proceeded in the direction he’d indicated, leaving the witch locked within his vast and rather opulent home while he went to discover what the cook had prepared earlier that evening for him
Word count: 2617
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Katarya Frost
Character
Witch
Level
04
46 / 46 HP
40 / 40 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 35c
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
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Joined: September 27th, 2019, 12:09 am
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Re: From The Dark [Warning: sexual abuse detail, violence, language]

Post by Katarya Frost »

Entering the home, Katarya couldn’t help but give a small sigh of relief. Despite her bravado, she was happy to be away from that place, and off the streets. The city was a hive of enemies, as far as she was concerned, and besides … this house was rather impressive. Make herself presentable? She shrugged slightly; he had a point.

“I will do my best to find something that will make me slightly less repulsive to your delicate eyes, my lord.” She said, bowing her head as if in submission, while rolling her eyes at the same time, before turning on her heels and making her way to the indicated room.

Katarya stepped inside ‘her room’ and closed the door. For a moment, she simply stood and looked around, her eyes going from this to that, some feature or another, some painting or rug or ornament. It was opulent, and had none of the garish boasting of Gidious’ estate. Everything here was either simply beautiful, or simply simple. With a genuine smile of pleasure, she looked at the tub in the corner of the room, steam and the scents of oils coming from the water. Had he known he was to have company this evening? She strode across the room, enjoying the feeling of the carpet beneath her feet, and went at once to the wardrobe.

Katarya was surprised at the amount of women’s clothes she found. She was certainly pleased at the quality of many of the pieces, and only thought on who they might belong to (or used to belong to) for a second. She took a deep blue cotton blouse, a back skirt, and a leather belt with a silver clasp. She let her fingers drift over the silver, noting the patterns; Elven. Well, he had said she could help herself! She was especially pleased when she found of shoes that actually fit and even had a small heel. This would certainly do.

She lay her spoils on the bed, and began to undress. It was a painful process. Many of the cuts had dried in such a way that the removal of the material attached caused her to grit her teeth in pain. She did not entirely dislike it … it was certainly not pleasant, but compared to the void she had felt in the cell …

She refused to think about that. Instead, she would bathe.

As she lay in the hot bath, she scrubbed her skin until it was red and raw. Her eyes were hard as she did so. She was not just rubbing away the dirt; deep inside of her was the desire to scrub away all that had happened to her, all that those men had done to her, had inflicted on her. But alas, it would take more than soap and oils to do that.

She did not hurry. She combed her hair, she let it hang in a loose braid and then got dressed. When she finally walked to look at herself in the long mirror, she stared for some time. Her eyes … they were as black as midnight … blacker, even! She was not surprised at the cuts and bruises that she sported, for they had been all over her body and stung as she had lay in the hot water. For a moment, she felt her confidence waver, wondering if it were better that she had truly died in that cell, and that she would never …

“No.” She said, aloud, surprising herself a little.

Raising her chin, she gave herself a mental slap and pulled herself together. There would be another time to mourn her past, and it was not now. She had an Elven assassin to manipulate!.

------------------------------

Farro had been delighted to find a number of steak sandwiches left on the counter for him, caramelized peppers with the delicious tang of onions and garlic emanating from under the soft bread. He almost began to drool as he lifted the platter, carrying it over to the table that sat in the middle of the sizable room. Farro had been over the moon when he’d come across the then young woman working in a small inn on the main road to Fellsgard. A bit of charm and the offer of a job for life had her scampering after him all the way to the city.

He was just about to bite into one of the delicious sandwiches, when his sensitive ears picked up on the flagging footsteps of a tired human making their way across the entryway, and down the corridor towards him. Biting into the succulent foods, he flicked his eyes to the door as it swished gently open.


Pushing open the door, Katarya Frost let her eyes wander the kitchen, at first acting as if Farro wasn’t even in the room, enjoying the warmth and trying to resist the urge to lurch at the food. Then she looked at the Elf. “I trust you won’t find me so repulsive you are unable to eat.” She stepped towards a chair. “May I sit?” Her words and tone were at odds. She asked like a servant, but spoke like the daughter of a Duke.

Farro shrugged, finishing his mouthful before he dained to answer the snarky woman.“I’m used to it. Sit.” he said, pushing the platter towards the woman in invitation before returning his attention to another bite of his dinner.


Katarya could not completely keep her composure as the food was put before her, and she reached out quickly to take a morsel and put it to her mouth. She did manage to check herself and slow down, but the food was delicious! She could not deny that at all. “My compliments to your cook.” She said, without irony.

“My name is Fëanáro Larkain, or Farro outside these walls,” He started, gesturing lazily around him as he spoke. “And I am most curious as to how a Frost witch ended up in a cockroaches dungeon cell, I only just remembered how i knew your name, one of your ancestors fought in the war.” Farro looked at her then, “but you remind me nothing of her.”

Looking up, the witch realised she had never asked his name, not once. She felt very … distant. She had not even thought to ask it! It had seemed insignificant, until it suddenly didn’t. Her dark eyes kept his gaze as he spoke, and though no real emotions moved her face, a very slight widening of her eyes betrayed her curiosity. “I am different.”[/speech] She said, reaching for another piece of food. “My powers, handed down through the generations of Frost women who came before me, have been twisted … corrupted.” She spoke so without any hint of regret at this. “I am sure the woman you knew from the war was very moral, and righteous, and dignified. I was, perhaps, once on that path. But Ny’tha sent me another way and now, I am here; talking to you. The last of my line, barren, unable to carry on the legacy …” She shrugged. “Considering what I have become, that is probably for the best. As to how I ended up in that insect’s dungeon, I was - and I am very much ashamed to admit it - overcome by something I had not prepared for: witchcraft.” She gave a small laugh, though it was a sound touched by darkness and shadow. “I was so ready to deal with crafty assassins, mighty warriors and powerful mages. I did not once stop to consider that another witch would turn on me, especially since I had never paid any of them any mind. Perhaps that was my downfall; I didn’t include them, never had them over for tea or went and played tricks in their silly magic circles. So one or more of them worked with Gidious and used spells I had known better than any of them, and yet had never prepared myself to have to fight… I can appreciate the irony.” She took a bite. “I will find that bitch … or bitches - I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out this time around - and I will rip their souls from their bodies, stick them in a rock, and throw them in the Idols-damned ocean.”

She had not raised her voice or even changed her tone, but as she had spoken it was as the shadows that danced around her deepened. Katarya was enraged.

And then they were gone, as she swallowed the last bite and sat back a little, looking at him. Fëanáro? That is a beautiful name. Are you as fiery as your name suggests?” She gave a small smile. “Should I be frightened of the flame inside you, Fëanáro Larkain?” She cocked her head, those black eyes fixed on him. “Yes … yes, I should be.” She said after a moment. “For now, anyway. I am completely at your mercy, I do hope you’ll treat me well. Maybe walk me every day, teach me to sit? Fetch? I know the look in your eyes, Fëanáro; I have seen it in the eyes of other Elves who have lived long and fought hard. I am but a Human to you, frail and short lived; not having the gift of the long years of knowledge and wisdom you get from hanging onto this world even when it’s done with you.” She stopped, maybe because she knew she was going too far. So she averted her gaze, casually. “So … how is it that I know every Elf worth knowing in this shit-stained city, but I have never heard of you?” She asked, pointedly.

Farro chuckled at the witches' declarations, she was certainly a creative one. A trait he could wholeheartedly appreciate in another, the icy demeanour in which it was delivered in though was another matter, only the gathering dark betrayed the emotions no doubt coursing through the young woman. “Once it wasn't only my inner fire that you would have feared, Pet.” Farro rested an elbow on the heavy wooden table, twisting his hand back and forth before his face, as though expecting something to happen. With mild frustration crossing his features, he fisted the hand and let it fall to the table's surface with a dull thud.

Ignoring the childish references to the care one may have to grant a house animal, Farro went back to his food. “You are right, to me you are but a naive child; brash, emotional and as unpredictable as the wind - but that’s what makes you interesting. Elves can be so boring, all that sensibility,” His face contorting in disgust he shuddered.What’s the point? And you won’t have heard of me witchling because firstly,”[/speech] He looked her up and down pointedly, “You do not travel in my circles, and secondly, we elves can be cunning, I have my ways to ensure others cannot recall much about me.” He smiled wickedly then, smugness all but oozing from his person, “It wouldn’t do in my lines of work to be well known now would it.”

Kat watched him closely, her eyes narrowing very slightly as her gaze went to his hand. What was he trying to do? Surely not magic! He was Kersoka, after all.

But now was not the time to pry. She knew little, had no leverage, not proven herself useful to him. Not yet.

Sitting back in her chair, Katarya took her drink and lifted slightly. “I am sure you are quite the enigma. Here’s to you, and how marvellous you are.” She gave a small roll of her eyes while she drank, but this was all show, of course. She wasn’t so arrogant that she thought she would know of every Elf in the city. But someone like him? With his fighting skills, this place … she felt like she ought to know. “Well, now you have a witch for a pet. A weak one, I will grant you. But my powers will return, in whatever form they will take now that half my spirit is gone. I feel it has been filled with shadow.” She shrugged. “That could prove interesting.” She glanced back up at him. “When they do, I think you’ll find me more than useful. You might even come to respect me! Or I might kill you, once my time has served.”[/speech] She placed her cup back down. “But I rather suspect you’d gut me when the day comes that I am close to matching you. That will be an interesting day.” She gave a small laugh.

“But a person does not get a place like this, or fight like you do, or wrap yourself in shadows and trickery if there was no purpose to it. And though I think you would like me to believe you are some Elven mystery who seeks only to amuse himself, I sincerely hope you aren’t as irritatingly dull as that.” She leaned forward. “What is it that drives you Fëanáro Larkain? What motives, schemes or plans do you have?” She raised a brow. “What do you want?”

“Blood thirsty little thing aren't you?” He teased, smiling to himself as he rose, fetching a drink of icy cold water from a tap, all the while wishing it was the brandy he’d promised himself earlier that evening, before turning back to the witch. Inwardly he was enjoying her show of spirit and attitude, and he was a rather marvellous elf if he did say so himself. He was still alive after all wasn't he?

Kats final question caught him a little off guard though, he blinked blankly for a moment before his thoughts kicked back into action again and he managed to formulate intelligible words. “Wouldn't you like to know, Pet. Knowing where I wish to go and how I intend to get there, would give you some nice tools to use against me now wouldn't it? You don't get to my age and still make such childish mistakes, young witchling.” His cocky self assured smile making another brief appearance, before all expression dropped from his face. He felt tired, he looked tired as well , but his night was not yet done.

He sighed deeply, pushing away from the sink and work surface he’d been lounging against and made his way towards the door in which they’d entered by. He turned back to Kat, door open and body half over the threshold, “I have some business to wrap up in the west district. I would advise you retire for the evening, for if you feel as rough as you look you will be out for hours.“ He smiled wryly and slipped out the door, placing perhaps a foolish trust in the witch that she wouldn't try anything stupid. However, he was perfectly confident in his ability to hunt the young woman down should the unfortunate action be called for.


Kat watched the Elf rise, smiling at his job. ”Good talk.” she said, after he had left.

Now that she was alone, she dug into the food, wrapped some in a napkin and (not forgetting the wine) went back to her designated room. It wasn’t long before half the wine was gone and the witch was asleep. It was a deep sleep of pure exhaustion, and though the shadows and nightmares did their best, they could not disturb her slumber.
Word count: 2596
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"Now is the Time, now is Hour, mine is the Magic, mine is the Power"
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