There were many secrets hidden in the world, and most seemed to find their way into the dark forests bordering the Demon Lords domain. Tjere wasn’t sure why that was the case.
Was it possible his influence was the cause? If so, why did they linger here? Some of these things were known to her; latent vampires, curses, and artifacts from bygone era’s to name a few. There were other nameless fears that didn’t belong in the more civilized world, some that even Tjere didn’t want to speculate on. These were just some of the things that Tjere couldn’t stop thinking about while gazing out into the distance.
Many hidden relics from ages before the Demon Lord were believed hide here. Some believed the answer to defeating the Demon Lord may exist in these woods. Tjere wasn’t so sure.
Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight while sitting exposed on the thick oak branch several meters in the air. From her perch, she had a good view. Rolling hills in the distance were spewing thick columns of smoke. The sounds of clattering steel and grinding chainlinks could be heard clearly, along with the bitter sobs of dying men.
Tjere had forgone her body armor, instead wearing minimal layers of protection over her shoulders. Her body was exposed to the warm air, and cool wind. The gear she wore barely covered her chest and groin, leaving much of her raw skin open to reflect the moonlight as it broke through the clouds. It was nourishing, bathing in the light of the moon. There were some who believed the moon was the literal eye of Roien. Tjere scoffed at the idea, but there was no denying how good it’s light felt on her bare skin.
She kept a blade attached to her belt, strapped closely to her thigh, and played with the idea of sharpening it while watching the chaos in the distance. As a creature living on the edge of life and death, the blood vampires flowing in her warrior blooded veins, Tjere could see through much of the shrouded fumes of war. She could make out the glint of tarnished metal, and burnished gold, as figures danced in ruthless combat. Blood, beautiful crimson spurts of blood, were shed, and even from a great distance Tjere could smell it.
It was hard, resisting the urge to sate her vampiric hunger, but it helped that she had already feasted on some of the denizens of Kings Barrow.
Whatever these human knights were fighting over, it must’ve been one of those hidden secrets of the world, for none of these soldiers were wearing any identifiable colors, or bore any standard aloft. Instead they covered there sigils, as if ashamed to be fighting for whatever cause they had pledged too.
The fighting was slowly getting closer, as the sounds of death steadily rose.
Tjere leaned forward, ever so slightly, to take in a deep breath. Her tongue tickled, tasting all the foulness in the air. Blood wasn’t the only thing unnerving her taste buds. Ash, sweat, piss and human manufacture flavored her tongue, and reminded her of a home long gone. It was every bit as revolting, as it was exciting. This was the taste of war in the air, the scent of martial glory that her clan valued as warriors.
The smell of death thickened, it was a grim specter for things to come.
A rustling of underbrush caught the dhampir’s attention. Her gaze shifted, expecting Namire to be the cause of the sudden disturbance. It was surprising to instead find Kaivese, her newly designated attendant, rustling through the grass. Kaivese easily climbed up the tree, and like a lizard, he scaled the surface of the giant oak as nimbly as a bird could fly.
He was small, for a Skink, which was small to begin with, making him suitable for any scouting tasks Tjere needed. Skinks were of the lesser lizard-men races, and were known to be highly intelligent. Tjere didn’t known it, but Kaivese was a craftsman, an artisan of some renown in his home city in the souther rain forests. He had been captured, to be sold to some kind of collector, and was happy to be freed from bondage.
Swearing a debt of loyatly in repayment for his salvation, the Skink was happy to obey Tjere’s orders, even if it meant he had to scout around the perimeter of Kings Barrow, monitoring for signs of encroachment.
Tjere kept her balance, even as the Skink crawled onto the same branch.
“Umans…” Kaivese’s voice was a refined hiss. “Coming this way.” His wide blue eyes reflected the glint of moon light. His narrow snout exposed sharp teeth, and his blue leathery skin was decorated in small red scales. A long tail wrapped around the oak branch, helping to give him some measure of balance.
Tjere dug her fingernails into the wood. “The battle remains fixed over there,” she nodded toward the smoke in the distance.
Kaivese’s mouth widened, it was the closest thing to a smile the Skink could emulate. Tjere wasn’t sure if the Skink actually smiled like that among his own kind, or if it was simply an attempt to relate with humanoid species. He continued. “Another group, unspoiled, from the easssst.”
Tjere raised an eyebrow. She looked over, away from the sounds of combat, and tried to see through the greenery of swaying trees. It was hard to spot anything of significance, even for her, but when Tjere closed her eyes she could smell human sweat being wafted by the wind from that direction.
“Go get Namire,” Tjere stood upright.
“What about the Lady?” For some reason, many in the newly captured village of Kings Barrow had started to refer to the reigning Succubus, Rain, as ‘The Lady’. Rain hadn’t considered doing anything to change their minds, as of yet, and Tjere wasn’t about to overstep her bounds. Tjere wasn’t sure how she felt about the honorific. Queen, or mistress sounded better, and she hoped the terminology would be corrected later. For now, Tjere assumed her Queen would assume the role in proper once they had arrived in Roien’s promised land.
Brushing the thought of Delsaldes aside for now, Tjere motioned for Kaivese to calm down. “Let’s not disturb her, she needs her rest. Besides, these humans won’t be a problem. I’ll take care of them myself.”
