Mystriss stroked her hand idly down into the bare valley of the Druchii’s waist and slowly over the other woman’s hip. Shalen stirred slightly in her sleep and gave a faint sigh before stretching her lithe body tighter against her. For a brief moment Mystriss smiled, tilting her head down to brush a soft kiss across the outer edge of her pointed ear; “Sleep well my love,” she whispered before gently extracting her arm from under the sleeping Witch Elf’s neck and rolling reluctantly away from the comforting warmth of the woman’s skin. She was late, again, and they’d surely be looking for her.
With a near silent groan of displeasure she pulled her hastily discarded leggings into her lap and pulled each of the soft red suede legs right side out. Her blue-grey eyes hung on moonlight kissed curves for a longing moment before she leaned over the other woman to snag her tunic and teasingly drew the white fabric across the woman’s milky skin. She shook her head softly, it was nearly dawn and she was supposed to be leading an attack in the Chaos Wastes yet here she was wanting more of this woman’s company… Frowning as her sense of obligation gnawed at her, she hastily threw on her tunic, squirmed into her leggings, and cast her eyes around in the dim light of the moon’s for the remainder of her gear while she cinched up her red suede corset.
It wasn’t long before she found the troops; bristling with sharp pointed weapons that would likely be useless as the weak shivering maggots fled before the onslaught of Chaos that would come soon after they breached the crest of the hill and alerted their scouts. She grumbled darkly as the thick smell of their impending cowardess assaulted her nose; grey-blue eyes narrowing sharply at the mewling fold of sheep that stood at half-assed attention before her albeit casual inspection. ‘At least half of them will die today,’ she mused, mulling over the reported numbers they would face as she approached the Realm General.
‘Kasheli,’ she recalled his name as she studied his almost innocent boyish features; his straw blonde hair was drawn tight into a pony tail that just barely peeked out beneath the massive shield strapped to his back. She had heard he was a competent leader, though reportedly brash and reckless in his methods; this complemented her tactics well she nodded faintly in approval at the pairing. “This will not end well,” she whispered musically leaning close to his pointed ear, “Sacrifice half to Khaine and keep the rest close to safeguard our retreat,” she chuckled softly as she leaned away.
His eyebrow snapped up, his previously almost sweet expression now a convoluted mix of mild disgust and arrogant indignity. “Retreat?!?,” he hissed under his breath as he faced her squarely, a strong gauntleted hand wrapping tight around her upper arm and jerking her back into him; his face halting mere inches from hers. “There will be no retreat ‘Commander’,” he sneered the title through his teeth, “You will ensure that ‘I’ do not lose this battle,” he growled, glaring at her a moment before he turned sharply on his heels to address the troops behind him. She bit her tongue, hands balling into fists as she contained the urge to draw her sword and run him through, and then abruptly her mouth twisted into a dark smile.
“Till death I will ensure your victory!,” she quipped loudly; her fist snapping to her chest in an overly formal salute to his backside. Her smile broadened, fully exposing her canines to him as he slowly twisted to glare at her for the interruption of his instructions. With a flourish of her hand from her chest she shrugged her flowing cloak over her shoulder and drew her long sword, holding it high over her head. “To death,” she said musically to the sloppily assembled troops; spinning the sword in a wide circle as she turned and started walking toward the battlefield, her hips swaying heavily with her steps.
Her dark smile returned two fold as the confused troops began to follow her, ignoring the harshly whispered directives to halt from their supposed general. “Lamb’s to the slaughter,” she laughed softly as she sheathed her sword and quickened her pace; the wayward flock thick upon her heels as she crested the small rise they had gathered behind. She scanned the far walls quickly, not much had changed since she had first scouted them; the guards were still lazily patrolling, chatting as they wandered the outskirts of the only viable approach to the castle for a larger force. Slowing her pace slightly she flipped her bow over her head and held it high in silent notification to her stolen flock. Before taking aim on the nearer of the two distracted guards; a dark scowl taking her lips just as she released the shot.
At least her arrow was true to its mark on the guard’s throat amidst the sudden calamity of noise that erupted from behind her. Grey-blue eyes snapped up to the walls to confirm what she already knew; ‘her’ sheep had given away any element of surprise in their foolish lust for battle. She shrugged faintly, she’d expected as much, though there was always a dim hope in her mind that one regiment might be different, might be trained in ambush and stealth she sought. “I’ll think of something,” she mumbled quietly, letting another arrow twang swiftly from her bow between the throng of bodies flowing past her. She assumed it hit its mark on the second guard though she would never know for sure as the river of armor closed the window of her view. Regardless, neither guard would survive the opening of those floodgates.
A soft touch on her arm briefly drew her glance; a young archmage no doubt wishing to increase her rank by staying tight to a commander. She smirked softly as she quickly reassessed the hectic situation, she typically had little need for arcane healing, but she wouldn’t turn down the offer, and certainly not in the chaos she suspected this skirmish would quickly become. Already the walls were beginning to fill with soldiers; the pointed tips of arrowheads set to glow by the slow build of arcane whispers as they awaited the flock’s arrival on their killing field. “Easy now boys,” she yelled half-heartedly as she slowed to a walk; it wouldn’t stop most of them from charging to their death, but perhaps she could use those who did hold back to her warning. “30 paces ahead, no more than that,” she called over to the archmage, holding the young woman’s gaze for a moment to ensure she had heard, “Keep as many alive as ya can,” she smiled, sending the girl off with a nod.
Screams erupted ahead as the first wave tore into their death’s under the rain of barbed tips and dull purple haze; “You’re with me,” she barked, snagging the wavering corner of a bright wizards cloak as he passed her. The human frowned darkly, giving a brief longing look to the battle ahead before nodding slowly and dropping back to join the few who had held back to her position. She scoured the small group, it was less than she had hoped, less than she had planned on, but she’d have to make due. Her eyes settled briefly on a pair of fellow shadow warriors who gave her a barely perceptible nod under their cowls; four would have to do then. “Wait for General Kasheli,” she barked to the rest, dragging on the bright wizards cloak still in her hand as she moved forward again; “On my target, we start on the right and work our way across the wall. Clear them bastards off!”
With only four it was a bit dodgy, once the enemy realized what she was doing they returned the favor ten-fold; she flashed the young arch mage a thankful smile as she forsake the rest of the regiment and crowded closer to the foursome’s slow progress. Still the ram was rattling the gates hard and the oil had been laid waste; things seemed mildly more hopeful for a positive outcome. She gave a quick glance behind to ensure the small remainder had stayed with Kasheli, only to find a sharp curse on her lips; they were all gone and her quick scan of the melee did not turn up the General’s boyish face. For a moment she was conflicted; something nagged that she should go find him and ensure his safety, but the battle demanded her here, clearing the walls for the siege. Still she bristled at his arrogance with her, as if she were some slave to his whims, some mere soldier to obey his orders. She growled softly as she unloaded on the next convenient target, finding scant solace as he went down under the overwhelming barrage from the three working with her. The background noise of battle picked up abruptly, drawing her sharp eyes to the gate as a mob of enemies poured out, laying waste to her front lines; “Cover on the gate,” she screamed over the din to her companions, scowling a bit at their slow reaction in changing targets, if they had heard her at all.
The front line of her regiment was thinning and widening at an alarming rate as it fell back before the onslaught of soldiers pouring from the now shattered gates. “Keep it tight and ease your way into the ‘ol girl,” she yelled trying to keep the frantic hint out of her voice, but it was already too late; their momentum was ebbing. “Fall back and rally West,” she barked, cursing sharply she fell back with them. Again she scanned for Kasheli, he had taken her second wave somewhere and she needed them NOW. A torrent of Elven curses fell from her lips as her eyes turned up empty yet again, he’d abandoned the push and run off on some fool quest for glory she was sure; so hard to find good Generals... A sharp scream of pain broke her search; she spun around to find the vicious blades of a Drucii extracting from the archmage behind her.
With a dark snarl she dropped her bow and launched herself at the Witch Elf; it was too late for the unfortunate young woman, but vengeance upon the kin slayer was demanded. The bitch was so lost in her bloodlust she didn’t even seem to feel the impalement of the long sword; the woman’s voice alluring in its frenzied prayers to Khaine even as the Drucii’s near naked body slid down the sword. Time seemed to slow as she caught the dying Drucii in her arms, the flow of bodies creating an calm eye of the storm as it parted around them; she couldn’t help but run her hand over the smooth curve of the dark elves hip, delighted fingers tasting the undoubtedly sweet sweat that gathered on the bare middrift that ran hot with blood as she extracted her sword. For a brief moment she held the dark elves eyes, so beautiful in their unwavering dedication to their God even in death; she sacrificed her life to Khaine without motive and without question. Slowly she lowered the Drucii to the ground and brushed her fingers over the woman’s dulling eyes.
A sharp whistle snapped her out of her reverie, her head snapping up to catch sight of one of the shadow warriors who had helped clear the walls as he trotted back to her. He held out her bow silently, shadowed eyes flickering curiously down at her from beneath his cowl; she shook her head slightly as she stood up and gave him a nod of thanks as she took her bow. “Do you fear your death?,” she asked quietly, studying what little of his face was visible beneath the leathered mask most of her kin elected to wear. His eyebrows flicked up slightly before he reigned in the display, tightening his jaw and shrugging; he belied his nonchalance though, fear shadowing swiftly across widened eyes. She held back her expression of disappointment and turned silently from him. “To death,” she chuckled softly to herself as she notched an arrow and began to trot through the steadily thinning flow of fleeing troops.
Breathing a prayer to Khaine unto her arrow she let loose on the first enemy she saw; a marauder burying his morphed sword arm into the back of a Slayer. She was in the process of leveling another shot on the monstrosity when movement high on the walls caught her attention. “Kasheli,” she hissed the name out in a brief fit of rage; unleashing her readied bolt into the marauder with an angry flourish. A lone Dwarf was forging handily through the enemy thick upon the turrets; ‘her’ reserve troops tailing him with the General. “I do hope your aim is true Brother,” she quipped over the din as she took aim at the enemies stuck in the dam of the Iron Breaker’s shield. The ground forces rallied at the sight of Kasheli, surging up from behind to engage the onrushing defenders; long bows singing out in a double twanged rhythm as they methodically fired into the stagnant pool of bodies upon the wall.
The defense didn’t last as long as she’d hoped, the enemy moral snapped under the fierce rally and they quickly fell victim to their individual cowardice’s to flee recklessly to their deaths. The gate was down, the walls were picked clean, and the few remaining enemies were being cut down in their tracks. An eerie quiet drifted in on the perfume of blood and death, a few remaining screams of anguish echoing into forgotten history. A loud cheer rushed across the battlefield, her eyes snapping from her last loosed arrow to the center wall where General Kasheli stood waving his sword triumphantly over his head.
The twang of her bowstring was lost in the roar of victory, a dark smile twisting her lips as she whispered a soft prayer. A hand jerked her shoulder far too late, shadowed eyes flashing angrily at her from beneath his draped cowl. She lowered her bow, her hand coming to rest over his bruising grip on her flesh as she leaned closer to him. “For Khaine, my Brother,” her whisper was lost amid the eruption of noise as Kasheli fell silently from the wall. No one noticed the abrupt relaxation of his body against hers, nor the growing pool of blood at her feet. “Traitor!,” two voices rang out in unison as she shoved him violently away. “Never let down your guard, for that is when the enemy will strike,” she scowled down at the gurgling Eldar and wiped his blood from her dagger.