Legends of Belariath

Avarwraith

Kidnapped. The tiny high elf lass was taken in the night from her home, bundled away in arms much to dark to be kin. The thief shielding her tiny form from wind and rain as she moved back towards the subterranean cave that led down into the Underdark. The cloaked thief soon revealed herself to be a Moriel woman, well versed in some of the darker arts, as well as having a light hand in matters of other people's belongings.

The tiny high elf infant was presented to the courts, as a replacement for a child lost during a raid. The tiny dark elf infant the unwitting victim of a high elf arrow. After months when the child's life hung in the balance, the Moriel Priestess announced that the Spider Goddess welcomed the blood of her enemies, to be twisted into the blood of her chosen. The child christened in the name of the Dark Mother, and accepted by the Moriels as divine irony.

The pale Elf learned the crafts of her home well. Lies and deceit coming easily to her, though the knowledge of when, and to whom tempering her falseness. She grew up, as most Moriel-kind did, bereft of sunlight, living forever in the caverns of night, a recluse from the sun that nurtured all else. The child was not treated any different than other Moriel children in her own home, though this was not true everywhere. Some would take special pleasure in twisting he pale child's mind, while others would sneer at her pallid complexion. More than once the child returned home with her flesh darkened with bruises.

The child grew to be stubborn and willful. Used to forcing things into her own terms, and not backing down from a fight, as she was forced again and again to prove herself in the eyes of her 'kin'. Though life was not easy, she seemed to excel, earning the reluctant respect of her peers. It would seem the only thing that held the elf back, was the very woman who had stolen her from the ornate crib of her birth. The moriel woman was possessive of the child, treating her more like a pet, than a Moriel. She would not even think of Apprenticing the child to any one of the dark guilds, or having her sent away for special schooling. She was given almost no freedom of choice. In fact, It wasn't until the year of her majority that she snuck out of the Underdark, without the permission of her Matriarch, instead putting to use the skills that she had learned under Her tutelage.

Swathed in black she snuck by the sentinels, using the caves she had grown up playing in to hide her disappearance. The next morning, for the first time, the Elf saw the sun. The sunlight striking her cheek as she stared in wonder at it, her hands covering her eyes minutes later as the full import of living in the dark was made clear to her, her eyes nearly blinded from those first powerful rays. Over the next few weeks those fathomless black eyes became more and more accustomed to the sun's light. Though for months bright, or sudden light would disorient her.

Her travels took her from village to village. With her fair complexion she was considered just another elf, odd in coloring, but nothing to gawk at. This was used to the little thief's advantage, picking pockets, sneaking into homes. And then looking innocent as the day she was born..

It wasn't until two years had passed, her travels taking her south, when she came upon a small camp just outside a miners village. The camp was odd, much more structured than the usual traveling fare she came across. She snuck quietly past the sleeping sentinels, carefully searching through their bags for any food, or coin she could find. It wasn't until she nearly tripped over a body that had been tossed along with some other garbage that they detected her presence.

A hand closed around her bicep, a gruff voice speaking in her ear. "'ell now, what 'ave we 'ear. A lovely little elf wench," his cruel laughter kindled her anger. She had been raised by Moriel, she wasn't going to pass quietly into nothingness. Three other men came to watch, cheering their companion on. They dragged the pale elf out into the woods, to have their fun without waking the whole camp.

"Well now, she's a pretty one, and young." one man spoke, his knife sliding under her top, slitting the fabric. She turned her face away, her dark eyes searching for something, anything. Thinking her cowed, the man behind her loosens his grip on her arms, instead reaching around to fondle her breasts with his large hands. Her arms free she lets them hang at her side, her fingers slowly closing around the only weapon at her disposal.

The man suddenly yelps with pain as her dagger is buried in his thigh. The little Elf twisting it angrily before pulling the blade out. Her foot lifting before coming down on the side of his head with a sickening thud, hitting against his temple. Her body crouched down, one hand balancing her against the dirt, while the other clutched her bloodied dagger.

The three men left standing began to slowly circle the girl, spitting out crude obscenities as they moved. Two of them suddenly dived forward, the elf moving out of their way, her hand clutching at the dirt before throwing it into their eyes. Their screams telling her that her dirty maneuver had succeeded. Before the third could even react she dug her dagger through the back left knee of one of the two men who were stumbling blindly, the second receiving a hard kick from the heel of her boot to his crotch.

Emboldened by the fact that she was not dead yet, she faced off the with the only remaining mercenary. Her dagger, as well as most of her arm, covered in the blood of his compatriots. Her eyes shining darkly in the moonlight as she waited for him to attack, knowing that he would likely overreact, giving her a chance to overbalance him. Unlike the other three this one was armed, the stiletto making her dagger look like a children's toy. He lunged forward, his weapon aiming for her chest, but the smaller, more agile elf leapt out of the way. A hand grabbing her ankle and throwing off her balance. The man she had kicked still conscious, a leering grin on his face as the other struck forward. She managed to bury her dagger in his arm, getting his hand to release her. The distraction, however, would cost her dear. Though the man was no longer a threat, the last one standing was able to get a jump on her, thrusting her slim body to the ground, his superior weight holding her there.

Dark eyes would stare up at the mercenary. Her lips twisted in rage. He held her hand down, his fingers prying that bloodied dagger from her fingers as he looked around at his companions. "Yer in a world 'o hurt now lass." he would say darkly. When the boys come to, we shall see how you like being cut.' He would lean over her, the blade lightly tracing over her eye. "You better hope none of them are dead, else you wont last long." he would chuckle again, that blade pressing against her tender flesh.

"I hope they all die, and that you soon join them, human pig." she would spit out, her leg coming up roughly between his thighs, crushing his balls with the jagged toe of her boot. The man would lurch forward, her dagger pressing deeply into her tender flesh, ruining the dark eye, and leaving a jagged trail down her face. She would push him off balance to the side, squirming out from under him. Her hand grasping the hilt of her dagger and literally pulling it from her eye. Blood covered her clothes, her skin. Everything was a red hue. Murderous anger filling her as she would leap at the man, stabbing him until he stopped moving, the elf slipping away in the eerie silence..

The mercenaries never found her, and she never knew if the ones involved lived or died. Nor did she care, she was never quite the same again. She managed to find a local shaman who sewed her eye up, leaving only the stretched flesh marked with a long jagged cut that ended halfway down her cheek. The elf wandering until she came across the virulent town of Beliarath..

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