For the most part, the main focus of the fiction will be based around a set of two protagonists, namely the acting generals and leadership inside and outside of the army itself.

• Lyria the Hag Queen – Yes, a Dark elf.
• Grey Seer Skree – A young grey seer, a mere 20 years old at the bottom of the prophetic ladder within the great clan Skryre.

Additional Characters of Interest

• List
• List
• List

Fates Fickle Fall

A stern brow cast gaze across an open sea as the black corsair sales of dark Elven ships glide rapidly atop the brim of the waves, gliding across them as if hovering above the very surface itself.
The wind behind there sales it looked that the dark ships would soon make port upon one of the various revered coves along the pirate coast of the great ocean under cover of night as the crimson eyes glint with the glow of the moon the voluptuous female figure upon the bow of the ship reluctantly withdrew her stance as her eyes removed there gaze from the sea to close with a sense of utmost confidence before turning to face the deckhands on board.

“It would appear your calculations were correct, we will make port before the sun rises and without interruption from the pirate rabble surrounding these accursed coasts.” A voice from nearby would peak out, a male form moving swiftly to the side of the women as she stepped down from the bow of the ship for arrival, a stark comment was soon returned “You sound as though you expected anything less, that’s unhealthy commander, you of all people should know this” halting the man in his tracks as she continued to walk on without him, scantily clad within the ceremonial robes of the witches of Kaine whilst appraised with armour, more artistic and glamorous then to serve a protective purpose, her every movement promoting ignorance, prowess and superiority as her clothing flickered in the cool air breeze of the night.

The rather withdrawn commander, put into his place would slowly return to following the women at more distance then before simply responding lately with a sharp “of course, forgive my ignorance Mistress”. As quickly as the brief conversation was to be closed lights began to flicker within one of the nearby rock faces illuminating the entrance of a disclosed cove hidden in shadow to those upon the corsair boats and within a matter of minutes they would soon be docked and the guiding torches of the cove extinguished to once again conceal the entrance from unwanted guests.

Within the cove itself seemed bland, grey walls adorned by banners, barely visible through lack of lighting in the port and a welcoming committee consisting of several armed guards, jagged spears in firm Elven steel grips and shields covering there frame from neck to ankle as they stand as perfectly postured as stone sculptures awaiting the arrival of the ships crew. Amidst the guards however stood two, less armoured more aristocratic looking nobles, empty eyes locked on the ship as the final couplings to the dock were completed sharing whispers with the faintest of movements barely moving there heads to acknowledge each other.
“So this is the formidable hag queen, interesting.” One would remark to the other, “Indeed, resonating with arrogance” a swift one line response as the female from the brow of the ship would soon exit across the landing platform, her movements graceful, important as those that followed her maintained posture, bringing with them great chests of pirated, raided riches and spoils though the most important of artefacts held within the hands of the leading women herself, this cause enough for even the gargoyle like nobles faces to present an emotion of pleasure.

“Lyria Such a pleasure to be receiving you under these conditions, I remember our last parting was not so fruitful. I see you obtained the artefact her highness will be most pleased to hear the good news.”
“But of course”, the pitch black hair falling down across Lyria’s face as she did not stop for the men before her, easing past with finesse as the guards would arch and turn sharply and begin following her, leaving the nobles abruptly cut short of there welcoming as she made her own way into the cove tunnels to the inner circles of what would soon open up into a large engraved cliff fortress within the very lands edge itself.

As the tunnels weaved out they steadily began getting larger and brighter a florescent glow from the inner halls to which they lead brightening them until finally Lyria emerged, leading the accompaniment of guards out of the tunnels into a large open hall, the banners more vibrantly standing out from the walls now as torches in full glow lift the halls to a life apart from the dank dull interior of the cove itself.
From the scuffled scrapes of loose rock underfoot the tender click of tempered heels now echoed the arrival of Lyria as she moved throughout the large hall, commoners and merchants alike adorning the walls with stalls a civilization away from the world it would be easy to mistake such a place for a Dwarven dwelling almost down to the very architecture were it not for sharper, pointier edging to the walls and decorations, darker stone and much sharper metals used to adorn and construct the halls within and as the commoner and cultural sections would finally come to an end the hag queen lit brightly by torchlight found herself awaiting to be let inside the grand citadel with the full guard directly to each side.

For the moment a long, unwanted pause was drawn out, the women’s eyes gazing sharply around her as she awaited entry, as was common place amongst her kin she always found her eyes to her own back whenever there was moment for pause although it would not take a moment more before the great doors behind the gates opened and the gates themselves soon following suite opening before Lyria as she stepped up forward moving into the inner sanctum of the stronghold. Guards line the walls in polished armour flickering from the light of the torches lighting the walls and drawing prowess to the master crafting that went into there armour as Lyria passed them hastily wasting no time once inside the grand citadel refusing to allow herself to be bothered by the inner courts and passing straight through into the chambers of her highness, she who would be a queen had she her own way – The dread lord; Mistress Keileth.
As Lyria passed into the room the chatter from the gathered advisors came to a sudden silence, heads turning toward the clicking heels as she moved toward the thrown immediately catching the eyes of the dread lord before dropping down onto a single knee, raising her hands in offering of a small chest of ornate design emanating with an old energy long forgotten to the winds of magic.

While it was no secret that Keileth had sort out this forgotten relic for some time her eyes would not leave the witch before her, gazing down almost as if to scour her as the advisors would begin whispering amidst each other to Keileth’s gaze of distaste to the women before her. After a moments chatter amidst the advisors they would soon be interrupted by the clapping of hands, an expression of welcoming disguising the dread lords face as she arose from her throne to step down and claim the chest in her own hands.

“Very well done, Lyria I was not expecting you to return… so soon I must say I’m impressed you never fail to deliver” she would commend, flicking the lid of the chest up slightly to allow the warm glow of the artefact meet her eyes before closing it once more and handing it aside to be taken away for the time being. “Rise, there’s no more need for bowing we were just about to enjoy a feast do take a seat I think you’ve earned it.” She would add, extending her arms outwards those in armour turning to leave and guard the outer doors as the nobles would move in around Lyria taking seats as she rose up from the ground her hair hanging low across her face with a mild smile her eyes raising momentarily to look at the dread lord before bowing her head once more, “A pleasure your highness” she would respond before casually moving across the room to take seat at one of the long tables around the outer side of the room leaving the centre as open flooring.

With her eyes looking around the room, reclusive behind a half veil of hair as she sat there clad in armour and ceremonial robes amidst those never likely to have even seen battle it felt beneath her, to be surrounded by such incompetent bickering nobles who squandered there bloodline behind coin and tables, merely sitting in silence as they spoke amidst themselves it would only be moments before slaves began to carry in an assortment of food almost as diverse as the slaves that carried them.
Managing her temper she consoled herself in that this ‘feast’ would only be a one off and that she would not allow herself to be suckered into this aristocratically wet dream again anytime soon as she struggled not to spit hatred to those around her, Kaine would not approve of such soft, lax living and neither did she – Needless to say were she offered the opportunity the dark haired warrior-ess would willingly cleave down everyone in the room with the dread lord as no exception, if she were in charge things would be much different.

Suddenly snapped out of her trance-like-state her plate of food untouched gazing directly at the bare midriff of a slave before her offering her an assortment of meats she would suddenly snap back to reality but not to the slave. Her body jerking slightly to the side as her eyes gazed around her she witnessed the Mistress Keileth talking in whispers with a group of advisors before leaving the room. Suddenly Lyria was overcome with an unnerving feeling of deceit as she gazed around the room, identifying the worthless nobles it struck her that perhaps she was not the only one who would do away with her troubles through the cold act of killing to remove irritation.
Lyria and Keileth prior to this moment have had a lot of history, not all of which good and with the ever increasing talents and success of Lyria – Keileth had become increasingly more paranoid for good reason of course amidst Dark Elven society the higher up the ladder you become the greater the risk of usurpation becomes.

Before Lyria could even fully stand blood would rapidly shower across the tables as death enveloped the room from the shadows, venomous spines flung from corner to corner impaling nobles and guards alike, throats slit with each flicker of the torches within the room. Lyria was barely able to draw her weapon in order to parry away several attempts at her life before being backed to the nearest wall, several cloaked men emerging from the now shadowed corners of the room as the torch flickered its last spark of light before plunging the entire room into complete darkness.
A volley sound of flurrying blades could be heard before a loud smash as the far door of the room was crashed to the ground from its hinges emerging a victorious and bloody witch with the hunger for blood lust painted across her face.

Lyria would not wait around for more guards to pour into the room and as they would pour into the blood pasted throne room they would find the results of a massacre, lacking the bodies of the assassins and immediately give chase to the bloodied footprints left behind from Lyria’s rapid movements. It would only take her a matter of moments before catching up to Keileth in a wide open hallway filled with columns and torches with the rapid approach of clanking metal as guards rushed in behind her.

“My dear Lyria, you never fail to meet expectations do you”
“What’s the meaning of this Keileth I have done nothing to arouse this betrayal I have only ever been faithful in my service” the angered witch would interrupt, her wide double sided blade in hand as she shouted out, interrupting the dread lord with a vicious hateful tone.
“It’s quite simple really, you, my dear have become a liability. Really, you think I can’t read you? I’ve been around these ropes once before, you are nothing new.” She would remark sharply in response before continuing, “But that doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll admit, it was a pleasure having you in my service but I can’t afford any attempts at my life, not by you and not now on the verge of greatness so I’m afraid I can’t afford for you to live any longer. Do you see now?”

Just as she finished her sentence, Lyria a moment from shouting in rage would suddenly turn her head sharply to face the guards pouring into the room, her eyes returning the Keileth, surrounded in black guard at this point as more and more city guards moved in to circle her from around the columns of the great hall and it was at this point that everything had fallen into place dropping her down to earth harshly as she realized the gravity of this betrayal her eyes locked on Keilith as she raised her arm to her and pointed.

“Kill her, she slew my advisors and seeks to usurp me.”

Black guard would hurriedly rush through towards Lyria forcing a rapid action of acrobatic parrying to avoid the large polearms hurling in her direction, she was no match to fight an entire army of warriors let alone one of black guard, she had to leave – now or risk imminent death at the hands of her betrayer.

“This will not be forgotten”

As combat ignited from all sides Lyria was hard pressed to escape with her life, dodging and parrying blades as she turned for the exit to make a rapid escape her light agile armour allowing her to flee with a flurry of strikes downing several spear wielding guards on her way back the way she had come, carving through the sharp Elven armour as if it weren’t even there and rushing out through the door before the multitudes of pursuers could rush her and funnel through the door after her.
Catching the guards off-guard in the following rooms she was easily to blitz through between them injuring those that came within blades reach of her as she rushed for the port arriving long before the guards could get there, an advantage of such scantily clad armour was one of absolute agility.

“Release the ship, NOW! Were leaving right now” she would yell at her crew, several corsairs taking up guarding points on the dock while they set about releasing the ship from the port buying her and the crew just enough time to push off from the dock before the corsairs were over run and all the while all Lyria was able to do was sit and merely stare back at Keileth from the ship, eyes locked upon each other as her ship sailed out of range leaving the cove.
“Your highness, she’s escaping”
“It’s fine… she won’t get far” Keileth would quickly interrupt, raising her hand outstretched with the trinket from the chest that Lyria herself had brought back to her in hand.
The very presence of this accursed artefact began manipulating the winds of magic present, burning it almost forming a void, a pit around the object itself before with a violent glow from within the crystal like object began siphoning the winds in such a way that a destructive beam of malicious darkness would be shot from it, burning the very air it cast through on its way to strike the corsair ship in its escape forcing a horrendous explosion that would scatter both ship and crew violently for meters in different directions as a result.

“If that doesn’t kill her… The harpies will, none the less I want it known that she is a kill on sight target is that understood” Keileth would remark as she turned to walk away, addressing her closest guard captain.
“Of course your highness.”