The first one came in the middle of the night, shrouded in shadow and mist. Rain watched from a distance as the jubilant young creature watched her with curious eyes. Soon more came, and by morning Rain enjoyed the company of several dozen elf-like creatures. They found safety in her quiet grove, and she let them bathe in the spring to wash away their tears. 

      She believed them to be an elven sub-species, similar to her own baseline form. They all had dark black or blue skin, lean limbs, and hard facial features. Not one of them reached five feet in height, making them shorter than any elf Rain had known. They all had pointy ears, and soft feminine eyes. Even the males seemed delicate, but Rain got the sense they were all starving. What stood out most was their crimson red hair, and stark blue eyes. Almost all of them had a tattoo over their left cheeks, a pearl white emblem of a fish or claw symbol.

      Draped in a linen robe, Rain watched from the ruins. Eventually, their leader summoned the courage to approach. He halted before setting foot on the hollowed ground, as if it were some holy obstacle in his path. He was handsome, but his body was malnourished. Seeing him like this brought back painful memories. 

      Just as he was about to take a knee, Rain spoke. “Please don’t grovel, tell me who you are.” She didn’t mean to sound irritated, but it bothered her that it took so long for one of them to introduce themselves.

      “My lady, my name is Ryltar of clan Arkenani. We are the Arkenani, and we have travelled far in search of safety. Please forgive us for soiling your sanctuary with our unclean footsteps.”

      “Arkenani?” Rain counted at least thirty of their number. The only ones who hadn’t clearly shown themselves were a band of mothers holding small children in their arms. They carefully kept to the edges, protecting their young from potential threat. Rain felt a pang of sympathy for them. “You are all welcome here, especially your women and children. For the men, however, there is a price.”

      The young leader took a long pause to reflect on this. Rain could practically hear his heart throbbing beneath his breast. When he made eye contact, Rain noticed his face was devoid of similar tattoos as the others. She wondered what that meant.

      “What do you desire?” Ryltar asked slowly.

      Rain’s curse brand itched, and tickled along her wide hips. “I need an offering, provide me a male among your number to my personal service. Do this, and your clan shall be welcomed in my new realm.”

      Delsaldes.

      A new land bearing the name of her mother, and turned into a sanctuary where she was the master. It was a dream born from many years of tortuous poverty, and given strength by many winters on an empty stomach. Fueled by mysterious magic gifted by a nameless benefactor, Rain felt like she could begin laying the foundations of what would become her own bastion. She wasn’t entirely certain this dream was purely her own, for even in her wildest fantasies Rain never dreamed of enslaving her own kind. Or keeping a harem all to herself.

      Regardless, Rain’s dream was slowly coming into fruition. It would take time, but already her power was making an influence. People struggling to survive in the haunted wilderness found few safe havens, and rumors spread upon the wind of a grove that held the powers of the forest at bay. Now that a small clan of wanderers had arrived, Rain felt that more would follow. 

      Soon there would be enough.

      “What the hell is a drow?” The question lingered on the tip of her tongue. Rain rested her cheek in the palm of her hand as she looked over at the two dhampir’s in her court. It was getting late in the evening, and already she could hear neighboring foxes beginning to prowl. The wildlife around them had grown exceedingly lively as of late. Rain wondered if her presence had stirred away the worst of the woodlands predators, or if it was the large collection of drow that were busy setting up tents along the pond.

      Tjere seemed exhausted, her shoulders were low as she leaned forward in her chair. The poor thing was thirsty, so thirsty that Rain had to offer the dhampir some of her own blood in the goblet of water in her hand. Tjere’s cheeks warmed as she suckled on the silver chalice. The magical properties of Rain’s blood seemed to rejuvenate the dhampir’s spirits. Color returned to Tjere’s cheeks as she finished the cups contents.

      “They’re a species of elf-kind that value the world beneath. Many believe they were elves that intermarried within dwarven society, their prodigy creating a new mixed species. They are rarely seen above ground, as they live in their own underground fortresses. Some say they share bonds of family and alliance among the great dwarven dynasties.” Namire spoke in Tjere’s stead. Her fox-like ears were perked up as she listened to those outside the ruined church.

      “She was asking me Pharine, how dare you speak out of turn!” Tjere gasped in between gulps. Evidently, she didn’t like having to compete for Rain’s attention. “I’m just trying to help,” Namire groaned.

      “You’re clearly failing! How else do you explain an entire clan of drow getting so close without your notice.” Tjere had a point and Namire knew it. 

      “I was hunting for Rain’s favorite elk stew!’ Namire slammed her hands on the table and stood up against Tjere.

      “How dare you use the queens name! Address her properly!” Now both the dhampir’s were at odds with one another. They bared their fangs, Namire’s tail was shot in the air. 

      It was all very humorous for Rain. “Enough, no harm was done and you can both call me by my first name.”

      “I would never, my queen.” Tjere swirled on her feet to face Rain and bowed. 

      Namire just crossed her arms and snickered, “brown noser.” 

      “What?” Tjere stammered quietly in confusion.

      “Nothing,” Namire answered swiftly with her tail swaying back and forth.

      This was a new concept for Rain. She had never seen a dwarf, much less heard of intermarriage between them. The idea of living underground all your life was especially unsettling. Rain leaned back in the chair, pondering these words. She wondered what drove the Arkenani clan to the surface, and how long they had been forced to survive in the woods.

      The Arkenani weren’t the only thing that worried her.

      Two knights had entered the woodlands, apparently in search of Rain. They brought with them weapons, and a healthy purse of silver coin. Tjere spied them from a distance, watching them as they prodded the tavern keeper for information. There was little to give, but Tjere watched as they eventually strolled into the woods. They were going in the wrong direction, which was a relief for now. Rain wasn’t a fool, she knew they would eventually find her. 

      “They make terrible slaves,” Tjere’s voice had regained some of its potency as she put the goblet down. “Drow are known for their stubbornness, and their inherent distrust of others. They clearly take after dwarves. No one has ever tamed a dwarf by the way.” 

      Namire seemed to take offense at the thought of using their new guests as slaves. Rain understood that the Pharine’s also had a long history of defiance, and willful independence. In a way, they had a lot in common with dwarven society as well. 

      “But you wouldn’t have slaves in Delsaldes. Would you?” Namire shot Tjere a quick glance, and then looked at Rain with pleadful eyes. Clearly, her vampiric bloodline couldn’t overcome her own willful nature.

      “No, of course not,” Rain smiled back at Namire, and gave her a pat on the head. In truth, Rain wasn’t sure how she felt about the subject. Rain needed more servants, and she needed to decide just how she was going to get them. There was no way she could carve out her own territory without a people to back her. 

      Raw power fueled her veins, and Rain needed something to use it on. Sitting around here was a waste of effort. 

      “Did you get a good look at these knights?” She asked Tjere directly. 

      “They were both…knights. They all kinda look the same?” The dhampir’s reaction was almost comical, for it was out of character for her. 

      Rain leaned forward onto the table, letting her breasts sway against the hard stone. Her nipples were already growing hard. “Tjere, I’m going to need you to do better next time. Please learn to study faces at least.”

      “Yes my queen,” Tjere lowered her chin in shame. 

      Rain then looked over to Namire, “Sweet heart, please patrol the surrounding area. See if you can find anyone else in need of sanctuary. Bring them here.”

      Just as Namire got up from her seat, a simple Drow had made his way to the door. Rain studied the man quietly. He was tall for his kind, with pale blue skin and a claw tattoo just over his left cheek. His red hair was cut short, and his stature was mildly impressive. The drow had the makings of a warrior, if he only had the nourishment to add weight to his bones. Taught sinew, forged from desperate hunting, outlined his arms and legs. 

      “And just who are you?” Rain asked with a surprised voice.

      “My name is Szordrin,” He paused. “I…I’m here to pledge fealty to you. In accordance with your agreement with our chief.”

      “Oh, you’ll be doing more than pledging fealty.” Rain smiled.