Post by lydalacey on Sept 24, 2009 0:40:36 GMT -5
The road to freedom was a long and dangerous for this one. A group of slaves, many of them arena slaves, had concocted an uprising against the Matrons that owned them within the Underdark. An elven woman, known only as L' Renor Kal'daka, was among the group of nineteen others, some the same race as she and others of different race. Men, orcs, vampires, and even a Drow or two. How the Drow could enslave one of their own was something the elf had contemplated alot growing up, aging slowly, until she looked to be twenty or so. But on the eve of when the games were to officially begin, they'd revolted as one, taking out many of the guards off of pure adrenaline alone. Those with any magic ability, like she, blocked what they could of the Priestess' strong mental and physical attacks.
The Drow were the first to go, having little mental resistance to those of their own kind. The orcs didn't do any better, being creatures of brute strength more than anything. The vampires and men did better though, loosing a few of the men halfway up the vast corridor which led to the outside world of light. Always did they keep on moving, always one step ahead of their pursuers and if caught, executioners. Hope kept them going when muscles cramped up and ached, or the Drow got close enough to do a little bit of damage. Hope for freedom. Hope for a life beyond being a slave. Most of all, hope for a better life, period. A possible chance to see loved ones again, start a home or farm or shop of their own, fall in love, marry and settle down, perhaps have a kid or two, and die surrounded by loved ones and friends.
Things became more frantic once the surface came nearer into view, a simple dot of light that grew ever brighter the closer they came. They cut down the last of the elves and vampires and men, except one of each. A small child, a vampire, with dark red eyes and matted, inky black hair falling down to her shoulders. A grizzly old man, deformed and scarred beyond belief from a lifetime of battle. And the elf, with knotted black curls falling down the expanse of a welt covered back and eyes so strange, none had ever heard of any elf having what she had. A normal enough color, light blue, but lacking the black dot all seemed to have. Some thought her blind, but she quickly proved them wrong by making eye contact.
Only when the tree reached the opening that it became apparent the vampire child could not come with for the sun burned her skin. When the old man ran out, he stood stock still, unused to the sunlight. An arm over his eyes, he ran blindly forward, not caring where he went, so long as he was gone from that hell. Yet the black adamantite collar remained, which in time, would come undone since it wasn't treated for the sunlight. The elf went back, giving the child a simple leather chord that served as a necklace, with a pale, smooth blue stone which indicated were she was from. A silent gesture she'd be back as soon as she could to rescue her.
Then L' Renor Kal'daka burst out of the hole and into the bright morning. She let forth a feral scream when it touched her eyes, and like the old man, covered her eyes with her arm. The other arm flailed about blindly, until something deliciously soft came beneath her fingers, and a voice in her head told her to grab ahold. So she did. Whatever had spoken to her, started to lead her quickly away from the Underdark entrance, where the Drow were cursing up a storm at having lost one of their best fighters. Said creature led her into the safety of the darkened forest. This pace was kept up for awhile.
The escape had drained her considerably of energy, and when she finally did collapse from exhaustion on the ground, it was many miles away from the entrance. She slept like the dead, while the creature stood guard over her. Another set of eyes, these ones high above the green leaves, kept vigil from the air, wind caressing nearly eight feet of wingspan. This was to go on for several hours, while she slept, just begging to be found by someone or other.