The House of Moyra

Chapter One

The girl.

The light filtered through the dense green foilage leaving the moss strewn carpet of the forest spotted with intermittent areas of darkness. The light breeze wafted along carrying the smells of decaying vegetation and heady animal musk that always followed a day long deluge of rain. Dew clung like beads of perspiration to every surface, the trees, the leaves, the fronds of the low lying plants. It was within this otherworldly place that their lives changed forever. It was here that the world changed forever.

Highborne, of the house Apres Magique, her name was Elsbeth. Given on the day of her birth into the world, it was a name of royalty, one of power. It was also detested by the one who wore it. The elven maiden stood strong and proud, tall and dignified. Her ears, typical of her kind, rose up into delicate points, marking her forever as one of the Tier'Dal, one of the 'fair ones'. Her hair cascaded down around her shoulders, held loosely by the nettlings she wore, delicate as the wings of fairies, yet strong like the mithril they were made of. Magical and rare, to posses such an item made from the metal of the gods, meant that one had means beyond measure. It was because of this, because of this position of austarity that she was troubled by the name given to her. Deep within her soul she longed for something special, to be something special. She craved the adoration of those around her, but not for who she was, but what she was able to do. Yet, from the braids in her hair, and the name hanging delicately around her being, she knew that no matter how lofty her feats of cunning, her bravery or her accomplishments, the adolation that would pour forth would be naught but for who she was, a simple girl born of a High House.

Sitting quietly beneath the gnarled and twisted trunk of one of the forest ancients, she dreamed of another life. One of simplicity. One without the oppressive shackles of royalty attached. One in which she was only a person, a person like all others. Plain and simple. She longed for this life. She longed to give up the titles, the acutrements, the status of station. She longed to walk forth into the world a free woman. Free of fetter. Free of duty. Free to fly like the birds in the sky. She longed to remove herself from where she was and apply her magica as her trade. To use her meager gifts to create her OWN destiny and not one that is handed to her as her name had been. Curling her silk clad feet up under herself, she pondered what such a life would hold. The pale green gown she wore rippled in the breeze as her thoughts drifted off into another world. Maybe it was her daydreaming, maybe it was the numbing sounds of the forest. No matter what it was, her heart froze when she saw the ogre emerge from the trees.

The Ogre

Elsbeth's heart stopped. She had lived only a short time in the relative terms of the lifespan of her race. Less then a hundred years had eclipsed on her soul. In all those years she had never seen a sight like she beheld at that moment. Fear descended upon her soul as she partook the sight of the massive beast before her.

Rising several meters, he was taller than any horse within her family's stables. His skin was pale yet mottled as if it had not seen the sun in many years. Massive muscles rippled as he moved showing his feral strength. A grace born of ferocity marked his every movement, he was more akin to a stalking tiger then a lumbering bear. Strapped to his body were plates of metal. His legs and arms, black as midnight, the metal seemed to suck the light in and make it disappear. His boots, gauntlets and even his breastplate with its intricate scrolled design were of a much brighter hue. Once silver and reflecting the sun's light like a perfect mirror, the rest of his armor had long since been stained a beautiful rose color. The skeletal face of a long forgotten foe was etched into the chest and peered forth like a crimson avatar of death. Years of fighting and gallon upon gallon of blood had washed away the silver and stained the once gallant metal its current color. How many deaths it took to transform the armor could not even be fathomed by the most adroit mathmetitian, yet it's wearer bore the death of every one of them like a badge of honor.
The young girl shuddered and attempted to crawl backwards through the rough bark of the tree at her back. Unsuccessfuly she tried to meld with it and disappear. Though she had talent in the arcane arts, she knew that they would be like a gentle rain on the slopes of a mountain were she to attempt to use them against this creature.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he searched, looking for some unseen object. What it was she did not know. But she feared that she may soon find out. It was then that his eyes lit upon her. His lips curled back ever so slightly to reveal his ogrish fangs. What looked like a predatory stare took over his countenance and he began to move towards her like the hunter that had found its helpless prey. Her thoughts raced, her mind screamed out, yet nothing would escape her lips. No shout issued forth. Her tongue swelled within her own mouth and prevented even the smallest sound to escape. Terror washed over her like the summer rain that just moments before had poured upon the forest she was within.
It was then, at the exact moment when she realized that her own death was not only iminent, but also unavoidable, that she heard the voice that would forever change her life.

The Woman

"Gaiygre, my dear, I think there are a few more over to the left. OH MY!"

Confused, Elsbeth peered up at the face of her salvation and began to weep softly. She was staring into the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Alabaster white skin surrounded by flame red hair the same color as hers. Instead of having it flow about her shoulders, however, the woman standing before her had a silver clasp pulling the hair tight to her scalp and allowing the full lenght to arch up and dangle back down like the wrapped tail of one of her family's parade horses. She too bore the countenance of one of the elves. Her ears pointed as well, she radiated a grace and beauty that Elsbeth had never encounterd before. Both warm and conforting it was also raw and powerful.

"Hello little one, you look as one who has seen their own death", the woman said. " Do you have a name?"

She stammered to reply, never fully gaining power over her voice, the answer beat forth in a faintly audible whisper. "E-e-el-elsbeth..."

The woman had turned her gaze back to the ogre she had called Gaiygre and bore him a look of absolute disdain. " Gaiygre, why are you standing there like a statue? Get moving. At this pace I will not be able to finish my flower garland. Go pick me some more of the Blue Sap Lillies we saw behind that tree."

Turning back to the quivering girl, she said, " I am sorry my dear, I missed what you said. Was that Elsbeth?"

The girl could only nod.

"Ah, then you must be of regal lineage. Who is your .... My dear, you look like you are about to shake to death! Please let me warm you"

Saying this, she proceeded to remove the cape from about her neck. She laid it delicately about neck of the young maiden and secured it so that she was covered. Warmth crept through her body as she began to lose her chill.

"You do not need to fear Gaiygre my child, he is as harmless as a kitten. He IS quite tame." At the mention of the ogre's name, Elsbeth wrenched her eyes in the direction that he had disappeared and could hear him uprooting small trees as he moved deeper into the underbrush.

"W-who are you?"

The woman chuckled softly. Staring deep into Elsbeth's eyes with a peircing gaze, she spoke softly. "My child, my name is Zethra, but I am known as the Mistress of the Dale."

The Mistress

Moments before, Elsbeth had feared the ending over her own life. The vision of the ogre stepping into the clearing had brought terror to her heart. That terror paled in comparison to what she now felt. Her skin threatened to detach it self from her body and run away without her. Ever gland in her body began to secrete liquid. Her pores emptied themselves instantly of all fluid covering her instantly in a fine sheen of perspiration. She had awoken from a bad dream and stepped straight into a nightmare.
To the children of the Fey, the stories of the Mistress of the Dale were nightmares. Stories of the gallant paladins rushing off in glory for their king and never returning were recounted to the children in order to instill fear in them. Many knew the stories to be true, many knew the stories first hand. There was even an aging elf who lived near the edge of Felwithe who had long ago put down his fiery sword and gently laid his armor within a chest, never to call himself a Paladin again. His tale was one of terror and woe, for he had met the witch who called herself Arcady and had been wrenched inside out by the torential forces of her magica. Assaulted by ever sense and set upon by some of the most brutish and loathesome creatures, he escaped her icy grasp and lived. Nevermore would he gallantly ride into battle. Never more would he raise his sword in defense of his city. His bravado and gust for life had been ripped from his body from the onslaught of the Mistress.

Now, here she was, sitting within the presence of this living nightmare. Here she was staring into the beautiful eyes of the one who had killed so many. Her soul faltered as she broke down and wept once again.
Zethra looked down at the weeping girl and smiled. She was quite lovely. It had been a long time since she had had a play thing. In a melancholy mood, she played back through her memories lifting each one and examining it like a delicate crystal figurine before placing back safely in it's little niche. She remembered all the names, all the faces. The warrior in Qeynos whom bedded her like a wild animal, pure lust, pure passion. The young bar maid in Neriak whom she had trussed up and tortured softly for hours until the girl was a shambles, wrought with so much pleasure that she remained unconcious for three days. Ahhh, the Erudite paladin who felt it was his duty to kill her, yet found his mind closed and will sapped entirely. When he awoke from her charms he found that he had slept with her while the moon past its zenith three times. His suicide was almost comical although depressing to her. He had been a tender lover.

Glancing down at the black leather bodice she wore, she noticed a stray hair had fallen and been trapped by one of the myriad of buckles that kept the armor on her body. Flicking it away with the gracful swing of a delicate hand, she continued appraising herself as her gaze fell lower. The black leather panties framed by her skin tight chaps, the daiphonous gown that surrounded them, yet did not hide them. The leather boots that rose up over her knees. Yes, this body needed pleasure. Maybe it was time once again to take another lover. Dropping her gaze to the quivering girl she spoke to her, softer and gentler, her tone meant to soothe, unlike before.

"My child, calm yourself. I am not here to eat you, nor am I here to drain the soul from your body. I set out today in order to collect flowers for a garland I am making." She continued on, " You being here is quite fortunate for me since I could use a little company while Gaiygre searches for more flowers."

Fearful that she was being rused and that her life was still in mortal peril, Elsbeth shook softly. Yet, there was some comfort in the way the woman spoke. Could someone as beautiful as her, one who shown with such a radiant grace, truly be the slayer of so many? Was she not a walking dream of loveliness? She studied the face that looked at her with a smile of knowing. She knew this woman would do her no harm, yet was still too scared to move or speak.

Placing a hand on Elsbeth's arm, Zethra slowly leaned closer until her lips were close to pressing upon the lips of the young maiden. As they drew near, she leaned to one side and skirted her head around so that her lips presented themselves to Elsbeth's ear. Whispering, in an a slow chanting manner she spoke to the girl.

"I think it is time for us to leave. I wish for you to go with me. There is much that you can learn."

End Chapter One