Danica watched the moon rise, full and bright, through the sky with some amount of anxiety and an unspoken hint of excitement of what was to come. Down below her the lanterns glowed brightly, fighting back the ever encroaching darkness of night. Landon had called in every available guardsman throughout the city to surround the massive underground crypt at a safe distance away so as not to spook their quarry. He’d even gone so far as to take any volunteers from the serving staff of the barracks and calling up some of the retired guardsmen he could count on in times of need.

Landon gave a rousing speech to his men out in the courtyard while she readied herself high upon the wall, looking down at them all assembled beneath her. She knew they were all about as ready as anyone could be, ready to bring justice to a man that murdered some of their own. She wondered if they had always shown this amount of commitment to their jobs, would things be nearly as bad? No sense dwelling on the past, she had to worry about the present situation and focus on that.

She took her sword belt from Dannig and cinched it tightly across her chest. “In all the fights you’ve been in, how many times did you wonder if you’d ever walk away from it?”

The normally short tempered but well meaning man turned back to her, not a hint of that usual charming dourness on his face. “Every time, girl,” he said, rather somberly. “You can’t dwell on it much though or else it will creep into your head and distract you. You got to shut that out the moment it starts coming in.”

She knew he was right about that, but it was rather difficult to shut out such intrusive thoughts. It sickened her to no end to think of the heart beating within her very chest could be in his stomach by the break of dawn. He was right though and she couldn’t let that distract her tonight from ending this once and for all. She looked to the multitudes gathered a short distance away, hoping that if she did somehow fail, then they would not.

She listened in as Landon finished his speech and the lanterns started to die out or hoods became fully closed. They made their way out of the courtyard and into the darkness beyond towards their assigned destinations. There was no joyous excitement or thrill of the hunt to be seen within any of them. It was like watching a group of mourners heading to the funeral of someone they loved. A rather fitting observation, considering their intended destination.

Dannig handed her an oil burning lantern. “It’s been filled with a plant oil that we got from Mirna. Stuff burns brighter and hotter than that nasty smelling fish juice you usually find around here. You could probably cremate that bastard with it if you wanted to.”

She took it and hooked it to her belt. “I appreciate it, Dannig. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll be bringing Angela with me.”

“See that you do, girl,” he said, turning away and heading back down. “See that you do.”

She made her way to the courtyard and followed the men along the streets she’d tread so many times before. It was like following a massively long grey snake through the city, an odd sight she’d never expected to see before. They all travelled in the darkness under the light of the moon, all except her. She wondered sometimes if the humans envied her dark sight as much as she hated standing out so much amongst them.

They assembled guardsmen and volunteers began to branch off in different directions once they reached the massive cemetery and soon she was following a single man towards the crypt entrance. He stopped and looked behind him waiting for her to catch up.

“I’ve always tried to avoid this place since that night,” she said looking over at the large cathedral silhouetted against the night sky. “I still owe him for what he did to me.”

“One day soon, perhaps you’ll repay that debt,” Landon said, looking towards the imposing structure as well. “But for now, we have this to deal with. Listen well, Danica. Angela wouldn’t want you to throw your life away for her, and neither would I. By now though, I know you well enough to know that you’re not going to stop and it’s something you feel as if you have to do. Just know that I believe in you and I believe that you can do it where no one else could.”

“If anything should happen,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, “pay that debt for me.”

He returned the physical gesture of respect. “You’ll do it yourself.”

She nodded in understanding and opened the old iron gates of the catacombs. They groaned angrily upon their well aged hinges, but gave little resistance to her entry. Soon she found herself walking a dank hallway beneath the graveyard above. Row after row of ancient wooden coffins were slotted into built up walls of rock and stone, harboring men and women several centuries dead. Here lay the ancestors of Norport that were among the first to found the great city and held some amount of veneration to keep their place within these walls.

Danica lit her lantern and it flared to life, illuminating her surroundings with a bright light that took her a few moments to become accustomed to. He wasn’t kidding when he said it burned more brightly than the more common fish oil usually available to them. She’d have to try and remember to ask Mirna what this stuff was sometime later when they had less pressing concerns.

She looked at the map and started making her way through the maze of the dead. It didn’t take long to get into the more decrepit and fouler smelling parts of the catacombs. Piles of bones tossed onto the wet stone floor were scored with markings of rats gnawing on them for what was left of the marrow. Weird bunches of red and brown plants grew up from puddles of green slime. It smelled unpleasant from the countless decompositions of bodies above seeping into the crevices and stagnating.

The occasional rat could be heard calling out into the darkness, hidden from the light in their nooks and crannies. She knew they were watching her every move, unaccustomed to visitors except the ones that brought them more food. It was almost comforting to know that they were there with her, letting her know that she wasn’t truly alone down here.

It wasn’t long before she came to the marked destination on the map. It was an ancient room, filled with skeletal remains tossed into massive piles in the corner. In the center, hanging from a noose attached to the ceiling, a corpse dangled completely still in the draftless tomb. It was dressed in a ragged brown cloth and its head was completely obscured with a matching hood.

She sucked in a breath and ran forward, fearful of who she’d find underneath the shroud. Quickly she removed the hood to discover the rotting face of someone long dead looking back at her with a rictus grin. It was horrifying and nightmare inducing, but at least it wasn’t Angela.

Attached to the chest of the body was a letter. She held her lantern closer and read it.

My dearest Danica,

By now I assume there are a number of people surrounding the area, eager to keep me trapped. Landon isn’t a fool and I shan’t take him for one. In the back of this room you will see a rather narrow hole in the wall that has been freshly exposed. It was once part of a smugglers tunnel many decades ago until they collapsed a section of it and sealed the ends. I have, by no small amount of effort, had it reopened for use recently. Come into the web of the spider little fly and see if you have what it takes to save your precious Angela.

Danica let out a low, frustrating growl. She was getting tired of his games, but he had her at the disadvantage with it unfortunately. There was nothing she could do about it except continue on and hope to end this sick game of his finally.

She slipped into the rather narrow tunnel, her smaller frame fitting somewhat easily within. It was still rather claustrophobia inducing however, almost as if she could feel the hard packed dirt closing against her from all sides. The cold, damp air smelled of freshly turned soil, an almost welcome relief to the foul stench of death she’d been exposed to before.

Soon it widened out a little and she saw old wooden support beams interspersed throughout the length of the tunnel. She wondered for a moment at what sorts of illicit goods made their way through this corridor and if they planned to make use of it again. Landon may decide to not wait around to find out if someone planned to use it again and collapse it down as a precautionary measure.

After some time, she finally arrived to an end, with a sturdy ladder going up. At the top was a hatch in a solid wood floor, cracked partially open, letting a small amount of light into the darkness. She attached her lantern to the hook on her belt and climbed up the rungs, cautiously peeking through the opening just in case. Not seeing any visible danger, she proceeded completely through and into the cramped room beyond. It appeared to be a large basement area with a somewhat low ceiling. The support beams all seemed to have lanterns hanging on them, bathing the entire room in light.

The hatch closed shut behind her and made a loud clicking noise as if it locked itself shut. She quickly spun around and saw three figures next to the wall. Angela was tied to the chair, a hood over her head, while a robed man held a wickedly sharp looking knife rather close to her. Next to them was the very man she’d spent so long looking for.

“A little precaution you see, just to make sure you followed my instructions,” he said, grinning maniacally. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I do mind,” Danica said. “Let her go.”

He slowly stood up and stretched his body. “I can’t do that. You have to earn it by beating me in a fair fight. Try and pull any tricks on me and my friend Corley here will slice her throat wide open before you can blink.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Danica looked over at the robed man who stood completely still, waiting for instructions to act. Angela seemed to be struggling at the bonds and grunting against a gag under the hood. It was good to know she was still alive and appeared to be unharmed. Hopefully Danica could get her away from that man with the knife when the time was right.

Danica set her lantern on a hook and pulled out her sword, giving it a few swings in preparation. “Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

“I’ve gone by many names over the years,” he said, approaching her slowly and pulling out that long dagger he’d had the night they met. “I often go by Galen. As to why, I do it simply because I can. What fun is life if you don’t learn to embrace the simple pleasures offered to you?”

Had he been wanting an answer to that question, he didn’t bother to wait long enough to get it. Galen lunged forward, trying to put the dagger point right into her throat. Adrenaline surged throughout her body and she lept to the side, easily avoiding the deadly attack. She swung her rapier in retaliation and he caught it with his other hand, much to her surprise as it dug into the thick leather glove.

He came in with several quick thrusts, trying to get in close to her and negate the range advantage she had. Again and again she moved back with each strike, refusing to let him gain the advantage. Danica sensed she was almost against the wall and quickly changed direction, jumping to the side this time. He left himself open for a brief moment and she tried to slash him with her sword but was blocked once again by his off hand. This time when she drew back she could see why he was able to catch her blows. The glove he’d been wearing fell to the floor, revealing a wickedly sharp hook where his left hand had been previously.

Galen waved it at her menacingly. “You like it? If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d give you one to match.”

This time it was Danica who jumped into the fight without responding to their opponents words. She came in with a flurry of strikes, trying to gauge his abilities somewhat better. He was able to block her single weapon easily it seemed with either the dagger or the hook, making it difficult for her to find a way past his defenses. She’d never been able to do well against Lorik while he was dual wielding weapons during their practice bouts. All she could do was fight for her life and hope he slipped up somewhere and that she could capitalize on his mistake. They separated away from one another and began to circle the room, waiting for the other to make their move.

Galen wore his wicked smile, obviously enjoying their time together. “How much do you know about dark elves, girl?”

“Nothing more than I share an ancestor, whoever that may be,” she said. Danica attempted to wear a mask of seriousness and determination, but in truth, she was thankful for a moment to try and think of a plan.

He nodded “Killers. Every damn one of them. You may live among the humans, but you’ve got that blood running through you just the same.”

He lunged at her and she jumped back, her back crashing painfully into a support beam. He took advantage of her mistake and charged in close, driving his body weight against her and the wooden post. There was an audible cracking noise and she felt a sharp pain in her ribs. Danica gritted her teeth and struggled against him, trying with all her strength to keep that blade of his from digging into her soft flesh. He pulled back and tried to slam into her once more, but was met with a knee strike that almost connected with his groin. It was only slightly off the mark, but painful enough to make him think twice about giving her room to strike.

She held his arms back with a strength born of desperation and a lifetime of working menial tasks. It wasn’t enough though and soon he began to win their battle of might. She tried a desperate attempt to slip to the left and get off of the wooden post she’d been pinned to, and she almost managed to get completely away from his grapple. Before she could get free of him though, he managed to use his hook to dig into the leather over her right shoulder. When she pulled back, that sharpened metal curve bit deeply into the flesh and scraped against bone.

Danica’s sword hit the ground with a solid thud as she tried to desperately pull it out from her. He kept her close to him though with that wicked metal hook, grinning with delight at her suffering. She could even smell the hot stink of his breath upon her face as they danced around, struggling for control. As before unfortunately, she couldn’t outmatch his strength and that dagger was getting dangerously close to her head. It was time to try for a moment of desperation, and it was going to really hurt.

With her left hand holding his dagger back, she let go of his arm with her right and pulled a knife from her belt. The foreign object embedded into her shoulder was hampering her full range of motion, but she was just barely able to get it up high enough to try sawing through his forearm. The razor sharp blade made quick work of the thin overcoat he wore, biting deep into the flesh of his forearm and through the straps holding his makeshift weapon in place. The agony was almost unbearable, but the thrill of combat surged adrenaline through her veins and helped dull it somewhat. He yelled in pain and quickly decided to change tactics, freeing his hook from her shoulder and jumping back just as she’d managed to cut through one of the straps holding it in place.

She gave him no time to think, throwing her knife at his chest, knowing he’d dodge out of the way of such a desperate attack. It gave her the precious moment she needed to quickly retrieve her sword without leaving herself too open to attack. She gave a couple of swings, testing how well she could still move her arm now. She was happy to be free and it still hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Galen on the other hand seemed less happy than he had been before as his blood poured out onto the floor.

She doubted waiting for him to bleed out would constitute a fair fight and she wondered if the man had instructions to kill Angela if she tried to win through non-combative means. She spared only a brief glance towards them, seeing he still watched them under that black hood with that blade of his next to her neck. She quickly focused back on her opponent, trying to face down the most impending threat first.

She charged forward, slashing her rapier directly at his face. He saw the attack coming and held up his hook hand to block the incoming blow and prepare a counterattack of his own. Metal on metal rang out when the two weapons collided and her sword swept through the air, just shy of his head. The hook, no longer strapped down tightly, came loose from his arm and dangled uselessly from the remaining attachments. He tried to stab her in retaliation, but she had purposely stayed far enough back to dodge the incoming counterattack with ease.

Danica , seeing her opponent at a disadvantage, took to the offensive again. She drove Galen back a step with every swing of her sword, never giving him an opening for retaliation. She knew he was still freely bleeding from that deep laceration she’d inflicted on his arm and hoped it would soon start to slow him down. She simply had to keep up this pace and wear him out enough to deliver the finishing blow.

Sensing he was almost backed against the wall, Galen growled and cried out “Cut her up, Corley!”

It was a mistake the moment she made it, and Danica knew she’d done so as soon as she turned her head towards Angela. She’d accidentally let her guard down and now Galen took the advantage, leaping forward to stab her in the chest with his dagger. He put his weight behind it, driving that blade hard against the leather armor she wore. It stopped the attack from fully penetrating, but it still managed to puncture through skin and flesh beneath.

She saw an opportunity and quickly punched him in the face, driving one of her knuckle spikes into his right eye. He fell back with a scream, clutching at the ruined orb. She walked steadily forward, aiming her rapier for a finishing blow. It was time to end this fight and save her friend.

She delivered a powerful back swing that he could no longer see coming. The metal dug deeply into his right hand, nearly severing the appendage from his arm. Galen’s bloodied dagger dropped to the ground as he fell to his knees, clutching the wound against his chest.

Danica Stuck the point of her sword against his throat, pressing it forward ever so slightly. “Tell him to let her go!”

Galen looked up at her through his one good eye, that wicked grin coming back across his face. “Corley won’t listen to me. He’s somewhat of a stubborn fool.”

She looked up and it finally dawned on her that the masked man had never moved a muscle. He simply stood there motionless the whole time, that deep black hood pulled low over his head.

“Stay here,” she said, swinging her rapier down across one of his calf muscles, severing it completely through.

Ignoring his yells of pain and litany of insults hurled her way, she approached the figure and his captive. He continued to simply stand there as she approached, still as a statue. When she got close enough, she yanked back the hood to see a skull attached to a wooden frame.

Galen laughed like a lunatic and yelled out. “She thought you were alive this whole time Corley!”

Danica turned back for a moment and pulled the hood off of Angela, ready to free her friend and be finished with this mad charade he’d set up. She instantly dropped the hood to the ground and gasped at the sudden surprise in front of her. She shook her head, trying to process the thoughts running wild in her mind.

This wasn’t Angela.

She wore Angela’s clothing, and had a somewhat similar build, but she wasn’t who Danica had been expecting at all. The red eyed woman looked up at her with a look of terror etched clearly across her face. A dirty cloth had been tightly wound around her head and mouth, preventing the woman from speaking out. Danica loosened the gag and tried to reassure the woman that she was going to be alright, but the hysterical older woman simply was too traumatized at the moment to comprehend what was happening.

She hurried back to Galen who watched her, a slight smile still showing. “Damn you! Where is she?”

“She’s dead I’m afraid,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn’t matter.

“Liar!” Danica seethed. “Where is she?”

His voice softened and he began to wobble somewhat. “Those fools brought her to me quite dead. It seems that they managed to suffocate her along the way and nearly botched the whole thing. Fortunately I lived near someone who made a great stand in.”

She moved in close and was about to grab him up to demand he answer her truthfully. The moment she got close enough, he swung his left hand around with the reattached hook. He very nearly got it in her throat, but due to a loss of depth perception, had just barely missed. The blood covered metal ran harmlessly against her soft skin, leaving a red streak across delicate lavender flesh.

She retaliated by running him completely through the chest, her thin bladed rapier piercing his heart, and extending out of his back. She held him tightly, ensuring that he couldn’t try to fight back with any more devious tricks. It was well past time that this butcher paid the ultimate price for all the lives he had taken.

“You think… you won,” he whispered softly into her ear. “This was… only the beginning.”

He fell over onto the floor and lay there, blood slowly pooling up on the wooden floor and dripping through the cracks below. She felt a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment while staring down at his corpse, almost as if it felt good to kill him. She had felt that exact same way the night she’d found and killed the man they called badger. Galen’s words echoed in her mind that dark elves were killers and she began to wonder if maybe her heritage was beginning to show.

And what exactly did he mean that this was the beginning? The beginning of what? She shook the thoughts from her mind and refocused. For now she had to free that woman and then find Angela, hopefully safe somewhere nearby.