Path of Their Own Ch. 01

On the opposite side of the house, on Galen's right, was a dining area. Three more guards were seated at the long table there while a fourth came out of a door in the back carrying a fresh plate of steaming food. Between these two halves of the house was a winding staircase that led up into a square opening on the second floor where more rooms awaited.

"We have our common area to the left with an in-house latrine through that door in back. It has Dwarven plumbing in it, which sends the waste through pipes to a barrel behind the house to be collected. And farmers say that crap is very helpful for their crops."

"That's amazin,' I ain't never seen anything like that," Galen said, masking his sarcasm as Manning continued.

"It is amazing technology. Father is talking about putting what people from Redding call a 'sewer' here in town. That way everyone can have plumbing, and the farmers can have an easier time gathering what they need for their fields."

Eyebrows rising, Galen was taken off-guard by this plan. Here he had assumed that the wealthy noble of this town was like the one he had encountered in Redding—completely and shamelessly indulgent and self-serving—and yet he was being proven partially wrong. While the Sloss family did have a large home and what looked to be some rather expensive looking decorations, it wasn't nearly to the same extravagance of Fretheim's home.

"Sounds expensive," the soldier commented, trying to relax his thoughts enough so he could reach out with the sixth sense the Drow had accidentally gifted him. He could quickly detect the life auras of the men in the room, and nearly ten more in the basement below him. Up above he could only detect a single sign of life, while in that room behind the dining room had three. One of them was powerfully magical, and as he tried to get a feel for that aura, to determine what kind of person may have had it, Manning started talking again.

"It will be a very costly project. Short term pain, long term gain. We're working with Redding engineers to make sure it's done right. Their people discovered a long time ago that if waste gets into the ground, well water can grow toxic and spread plague so we're sparing no expense in its construction. We plan on fully modernizing just as Redding has."

"A good plan," Galen said, trying to mask his aggravation with feigned curiosity. "What do you have upstairs? Private areas?"

"Yes. Two master bedrooms, the study, guest room, and the bathroom. Servants and guards quarters are found down below. Come, sit with me and have a drink."

Manning led Galen over to the dining room table, offering him a chair away from the seated guards and taking the one across from it. He snapped his fingers and three women wearing black shirts and trousers came rushing out from the kitchen. The first two were Human women, one blonde and the other raven-haired. Both of them were quite pretty, but the third...

She was only so tall as to reach the shoulders of the other two women and her skin shade was somewhere between a dull white and a pale blue. The colors of her mesmerizing eyes were that of dark, brilliant emeralds, gleaming in the light of candles on the walls. Three golden rings pierced both her long, Elven ears along their length as revealed by her black hair pulled back into a pony tail at her crown. But of all things, the most conclusive detail about her identity was the purple aura that dimly glowed off her magnificent body.

She was a Tree Elf, she had to be. One of the four kidnapped ten years ago and sold off into slavery by Pretayus and his gang. Now found, right where she was supposed to be.

A chuckle escaped Manning as he caught his guest staring at her with his face stuck in the exact expression he expected.

"She's a beautiful little thing, isn't she?"

The Private had to pry his eyes off the showstopper of an Elf standing in the room. While not as quite as pretty as his Celia, she was still of a race of Elves that could melt steel with a smile, and seeing a new one was something he found to already be a breathtaking experience.

Caught somewhere between relief, arousal, and malice, Galen shifted his focus to the Baron's son and swallowed his emotions while giving a stiff nod. "She is. I haven't seen anything like her."

"If you did, I would be far beyond surprised." Manning turned to his female servants with a grin. "Girls, a fine wine with two glasses. Naipee, stay if you would."

Naipee, Galen repeated in his head, recognizing the name from those Celia had given him. I found you.

Without a word the women turned and headed off to their task while the Elf remained in place. When Manning beckoned her closer with a hand movement, she took a step forward and he threw an arm around her waist to hold her close. Galen didn't need to be very perceptive to see how her dark eyes trembled at her singling out, at the unknown person that now sat in the room. It seemed like she now expected something undesirable to happen.

"This fine creature came from Atzla forest, wanted to see a bit of civilization," Manning explained with a chuckle, making Galen's fists tighten up on the arms of his chair. "She made her way here and got a lesson on how things need to be purchased before she takes them. She got caught stealing from some of the local shops but instead of cutting off her hand or sending her to the mines, father offered her a sentence in his service instead."

He bought her from Pretayus as a slave, I have the bill of sale! Galen wanted to scream. So badly did he want to summon his pistol and shoot this bastard in front of him, to just grab Naipee and run. But at the present moment, he was surrounded and was without any backup. And the Elf didn't know he was here to help her.

"May I take a closer look?" Galen asked, taking note of the fear in her eyes as Manning chuckled.

Looking up to Naipee's face, the junior Sloss motioned her toward his guest and gave her a pat on her rear. She swallowed and circled the table until she was standing before the man in green. Galen could see she was doing her best not to tremble.

Standing from his seat, Galen found her to be just about Celia's height, if a touch taller. Much to his dismay, she kept her eyes staring straight ahead and obviously fought the urge to flinch when he lifted his hand to caress her cheek. It stung his heart to find such a gentle creature acting in such a manner. It made the anger broiling in his gut that much hotter.

"Her skin is flawless," the soldier managed to say before he leaned in to bring his face close her ear.

"I passed the clan's challenges, Tanza sent me," he whispered in her language before leaning back and looking to Manning again. "She smells fantastic."

He glanced down at Naipee to notice the purple glow of her body brighten just the slightest amount even as her gaze remained fixed on whatever she was staring at. He could've sworn he saw the trace of a tear and the corner of her mouth twitch into a smile before her expression returned to its placid state. How he wished to have Felyn's power now to just get an idea what she felt inside.

Manning nodded in agreement. "She is a gem to have in one's service. Believe it or not, she has some very powerful healing magic and spells to manipulate temperature in liquids. Hot tea or chilled wine, she has a talent. And the massages she can give are near magical in their own rite."

Right then the two other women returned and set two glasses of wine down on the table. With this, Galen resumed his seat and Naipee rejoined the lineup formed by the other two servants. Manning presented a toast, and Galen raised his glass to clink with him before they sipped their beverages in unison.

"So, Galen, you must share with me the story of your jacket," his host said, leaning back in his chair. "The material specifically. It looks quite unique."

Shrugging and laughing nervously, the Private adjusted his seat as he said, "Not really. A... merchant stopped by my, uh, village. He was offering these clothes for trade. Said they were made from stuff called cotton."

"Cotton? I've never heard of it," Manning said tapping his chin. "Here I was hoping when I invited you in that you knew how to make it or find its source. With dress like that, dealing with that old shopkeeper in gold values, I had the impression you a man of forest nobility or at the least of some connection... hmm, disappointing. I wanted to make you rich."

Suddenly standing up with his glass, the young noble bowed to the Private. "It has been a pleasure, Mister Martin, I look forward to seeing you again in the morning. Enjoy the wine, don't let it go to waste, when you are done my servants will see you out."

With that, Manning headed for the stairs in the center of the house and climbed them straight up to the second level to disappear from sight. Left alone with the three servants staring expectantly at him, Galen took just one more sip and handed what was left to Naipee. When the Elf stepped forward to take the glass, he mouthed the word "tonight" to her in Elvish. Giving a subtle nod, she stepped back and turned for the kitchen while the other two women escorted him out of the house and into the chilly night air.

...

Coming back to the Slizzed Stag in the dark, Galen found that there was a line of horses lashed to the hitching posts in front of the building. Inside he could hear a fiddler riling up some cheering voices over many rowdy conversations. He was almost worried to what he would find going on among the beer glasses undoubtedly being served.

Stepping in the front door, he saw a large group of men in filthy clothes covered in dust at the end of the room, closer to the bar on his left, drinking their night away. On the other side of the room, against the wall and to the right of the door, was a more racially-diverse group of men in varying manners of armor, having far more fun with the music and drink.

Right in between the two parties, sitting alone at a table with a mug in his hand, was Flak. He was wearing his bandolier and his AK was on the floor beside him with the sling wrapped around his boot.

Casually walking the line between the groups of men, Galen parked himself in the chair beside Flak and watched for the barmaid. Rose was just finished passing out drinks to the men in armor when she noticed him. He waved and she gave him a smile before heading straight for the bar. There a young man in a loose, brown shirt and apron filled up a mug and passed it to her, and she quickly brought it over to the waiting Private.

"For you, Mister Galen. If you are feeling hungry, the lamb is nearly done roasting."

With an appreciative grin, he said. "Thank you, ma'am."

She bid him a quick "you're welcome" and continued on running her bar around the chaos that filled it. When unwelcome ears were unable to listen in, Flak leaned closer to Galen and asked, "Find anything?"

Lifting his mug to cover his mouth as he spoke, Galen took a drink before he answered, "I did. She's on the south-side of the town center, in the Baron's mansion. Right where she was supposed to be."

With a relieved look, Flak downed the last of his mug and motioned his head toward the stairs. "Let's go somewhere quiet."

Taking his drink with him, Galen stood from his table along with the Marine and they went up to the third floor to the larger, rented room they had there. Opening the door, Galen was pleasantly surprised by the relaxed atmosphere he had found. Petra was seated on one bed with her long hair undone from its braid. Using her claws, she was combing through it to work out the tangles while Felyn practiced swapping magazines between her rifle and her webbing in the corner. On the second bed, Celia sat cross-legged with her hands on her knees and her eyes shut. Her golden aura seemed to sparkle all over her body yet remained primarily concentrated in her palms and chest as she meditated.

When the Elf heard the door close, her eyes opened wide as she looked to the entrance of the room. At the first sight of Galen, she was leaping off the bed before her aura even had the chance to return to normal. Her cheery voice cracked as she excitedly called his name and tackled him hard enough to nearly make him spill his drink.

Rolling his eyes, Flak stepped around the merry couple and let the two hug it out as he went to the now vacant bed to sit down. Clearing her weapon and setting it on the table between the beds, Felyn took a few steps back to lean against the wall while waiting for news. Petra merely smirked at her Elven friend's excitement and started remaking her braid.

"So what's the good word, Private?" Flak asked. "What'd you learn?"

With an excited Celia clinging to his side, Galen drank from his mug and looked to the other three in the room while giving a half-hearted smile. "I found the Elf here in town, saw her myself, alive and well. Name's Naipee, and right now she's bein' used as a 'servant' in the Baron's house on th' south-side of the town square."

"Perfect," Flak said sighing. "We don't have to hunt her down like with Fry-heim, or whatever the fuck his name was. You get inside the house?"

With an affirmative nod, Galen took another sip and said, "I did. Baron's son saw my jacket and decided he wanted to ask me 'bout cotton. Invited me in, showed me around the first floor, gave me a drink. When he found out how little I know 'bout this stuff," he pinched a sleeve of his tunic to exemplify what he meant. "he sent me on my way. But I met Naipee, she knows my face now and she knows we're comin.'"

"Guards?" Petra asked, replacing her steel ring on the end of her braid.

"Ten that I saw. Two at the door, eight were relaxin' in the common area on the main floor. Could be more from what I sensed in the basement. We'd have ta go through or slip by 'em to get to th' servants quarters."

"Did you walk around the house? Find a hidden way in?" Felyn questioned, crossing her arms.

"Front door an' windows look to be th' only access," Galen said, shutting down the Drow's hopes for a stealthy infiltration. "There's no back door an' the two windows leadin' to the basement are barred. Second floor has a balcony, though. It goes aroun' the entire house."

"Should we just go in guns blazing?" Flak asked, something that seemed to appeal to Felyn greatly by the way she grinned.

Downing more from his mug, Galen seriously considered that option for a moment. It would be easy to raid this house as they did Fretheim's, shooting anything that moved and leaving the mess for someone else to clean up. But then he remembered what Manning had said, his family's plan for Ricton and how welcoming the young man had been.

What if the junior Sloss truly believed the story behind Naipee? He couldn't be much older than Galen and that would have made him a child when the Tree Elf came into his family. His father could've told him any story he wanted to explain her presence.

But then there was the Elf herself. He knew she had been abused just by how she acted in his presence. He'd seen it before. Was it Manning that had done it? His father? His guards? Hell, his servants? It wouldn't sit right in Galen's conscious to just go in and end all their lives without clear certainty. He needed justification. Not to any law or God, but to himself, and right now he didn't have that.

Downing the last of his drink and making his cup vanish, he answered, "No, we go in quiet. No killin'. I want to do this tonight so I say we go when the moon is high. Until then, let's start on a plan."

...

Felyn blinked as she felt her vision dim. She tried to give her head a shake but she found her muscles paralyzed. Neither of her arms would obey her will for them to move nor would her legs give out to drop her to the floor. Even her eyelids stopped working and though her allies were sitting on the beds discussing right in front of her, she couldn't cry out to them. Her Empathy refused to connect to them.

She was still on her feet, leaning casually against the wall with a contemplative look, yet she was completely helpless as her world faded to black.

Chills rippled across her skin to make her hairs stand on end. She tried to raise her hand again and much to her surprise, it was before her face. Only something was wrong. Her armor was gone along with her cloak and weapons. Looking down, the Drow found herself to be completely naked as she stood in a dark abyss.

Where am I? she thought, looking around at the endless black.

You are here, a voice whispered in her thoughts.

Crimson eyes darting around, body spinning to face every direction, she tried to find the voice's source. She was alone. Nobody was in this void but her.

Stop looking for what can't be found. I am inside you, Felynshalee. I speak the message of the Spider Queen.

The Empath froze, then quickly bowed her head. What is the bidding of Lolth?

None of the line of Sloss may die. This scheme your allies plot must land its blame upon the armored band of men downstairs. They threaten both the web of the Mistress and this town with the same destruction they wrought in Giran, only now they carry a threat far worse than before. None of them can survive, you must bring their leader's blade before the Giran court.

Felyn scowled at this, wondering how much of a threat one band of surfacers could be to the Underdark. Then she remembered Redding's Understorm brigade, and how much headache they caused during the war.

I understand. Lolth's will be done.

Go, sister of the Sun-kissed, do not fail us.

Like falling into a hotspring, she felt her mind pouring back into its body in the waking world. Her eyes shot open to find she was still exactly as she was when she had slipped away. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed away from the wall and strode past her allies to the room of the door.

"Felyn?" Galen called.

She opened the entryway just a crack and peered out, spotting the men mentioned in her communion. They gathered at their own tables separate from the other patrons, these Humans, Nekos, Dwarves, and their Orc. From here she could feel their inebriation, their building desire which only grew as the barmaid came to serve another round of drinks. Even now their whistling and offers for a pleasurable tumble were pouring out and Rose's aggravation was growing.

"Felyn?" Galen asked once again, now standing right behind her.

"Lolth says Sloss can't die," she whispered lowly, barely enough for Galen to hear. "She desires the blame for our act tonight to fall on these men. They are marauders, and the leader's sword carries a threat that must come before the Giran court."

"Giran?" Galen wondered before Flak interrupted in a very demanding tone, "What's going on?"

Thinking on how to turn her ally against these men the quickest, Felyn turned to the Marine with a deadpan expression as she said, "Those men plan to have their way with our host."

Both Flak and Petra snapped up to their feet then, and she inwardly grinned at her success in hitting the right button. She recalled the story of how the two had reacted when they found her own lost sister in the Redding dungeon, lashed to a cross with her legs spread. Despite having to make an escape, they refused to leave her to the fate she endured. That alone spoke volumes in how much she could trust them, or manipulate them when necessary.

"You can feel it from them?" Galen asked, his brow furrowing as there was a wary change in his mindset.

Felyn felt that he had realized what she was doing. His time below may have been short, but he had quickly become familiar with all the deception games the Drow people played. It was only because of the mission from the Spider Queen that he kept his mouth shut now.