Legends of Belariath
Asmondeaus
The Hunters of Tor-Nocturne Part One
It was dark in Elghinnaft, it was always dark in Elghinnaft, and the slaves felt the darkness closing in on them as they ran. Through rocky tunnels and strange mushroom groves the Sylvan elves ran for their life in the gloom. Behind them they could hear the galloping of hooves of the slavers coming back for them, to drag them back to the depths of the moriels home an their demonic temples.
Asmondeaus happened to be one of those hooves as he led his hunters onwards towards the fleeing elves. While not the high elves that all moriel hate these elves had been captured for sacrifice to Kirva and Kirva didn’t like to be kept waiting. He could clearly see the sylvans and what they couldn’t see. For he had posted four of his stealthiest soldiers just ahead of the fleeing elves incase of trouble and the plan worked.
The screams as the scouts caught them were like music to the knight’s ears. Before long he was upon them and soon he had five prisoners tied gagged and ready to be led back. “Hold.” He ordered as he approached the lead slave, “This was your idea wasn’t it?” he asked as he drew his sword.
The mumbles he got from under the gag seemed to be a yes and within a few seconds an elven head rolled on the ground…”Let that be a lesson to you all!” he said as he mounted his horse again and lead the party back to the Tor-Nocturne compound.
“Home.” Asmondeaus whispered to himself in a sigh of relief once he was through the gates that led to his compound. These slaves were a pain in the ass and the sooner they died the better as far as he was concerned. He stopped his procession at the entrance to the dungeon and from their came a handful of guards to take his captives. The lead guard, a man Asmondeaus knew as Yavir knelt down before his horse. ”Greetings captain Asmondeaus.” He said in greeting.
“Greetings.” He replied to his underling, “take these captives and hold them until the priest come for them, but have your fun while they’re here.” He said with a wicked gleam in his eye towards the three females of the group. He then waked off to his quarters for a good bath.
Once in his private room in the barracks Asmondeaus stripped himself of his armor and tunic and submerged himself in the volcanic heated water…He had only been in there for a few minutes before he received a knock on his door. “Enter!” he yelled as he took up his long sword from the side of the bath.
Inside his room came a young dryad girl. The slave had obviously been beaten recently from the welts criss crossing her back. “Speak slave.” He growled at her.
“Mistress Valeria demands your presence.” She stammers out as she kneels on the floor.
Asmondeaus can’t help but grin, Valeria only called his for one thing, and it had been a bit to long since the last time. “Tell her I’m coming with all haste.” He ordered as he stood from the pool and began to dry. He donned his best tunic and left the barracks to go meet Tor-Nocturnes most beautiful mistress.