In the twilight shadow of the glimmering corpse-mountain, dark commerce bustled. It flowed like murky water through the streets of sorrow and iron, parting around the spiked spires and sinister guards. Merchants bought and sold their illicit wares unconcerned by the lazy smoke drifting in from the southern slums.

Beacon bright, the flames roared, hastily contained by foul drow magics.

Out in force were the sinister guards, called forth by their august matrons to find and capture the illusive arsonists. Armored feet stormed down the dark alleyways. They thundered into locked homes, breaking down the doors in their furious search. While giant fell-bat’s swooped down from high above to join in the relentless canvas, driven by the painful coaxing of their portentous riders.

Their echoing screeches bounced off columns and spires.

Deep in the grim city, a lone guard halted by a gloomy alleyway, drawn by a sudden sound that came from within. He turned his gaze into the darkness as his fellows rushed blindly by. After casting a brief look to the lighter path, he took his jagged spear in hand and cautiously ventured down the dimmer way.

His footsteps resounded hauntingly loud in the silence of the somber alleyway, sending a shiver of dread steepling up the drow guard’s spine. As he wandered further into the gloom in search of the curious sound he’d heard, he found himself lost from the bright sight of the main street behind.

It wore on his mind, the dark did. Unnatural even for here. The shadows crept and moved at the edges of his vision.

Frightened by his isolation, the guard turned to leave the desolate alleyway, unconcerned with whatever he’d heard. However, as he did, a black robe met his eyes a mere inch from his face. The dark material struggled to hold back a well-endowed chest and a strong, muscular physique.

As he lifted his gaze, his breath caught as a pair of glowing orange eyes glared down at him from a shaded hood pierced by a set of powerful, thick horns.

“Hey there,” the horned behemoth spoke.

The guard went to shout, but a heavy palm grabbed him by the face. And with unbelievable strength, the horned figure smashed his skull against the wall beside them.

Blood and brains splattered across the grimy wall.

Nethlia let the body drop and wiped her hands clean upon her black necromancer robes with a grimace. She turned back towards the creeping black shadow of an alleyway.

“All clear,” she said calmly.

And from the black peeled off six more shadows.

Autumn peered beyond the brim of her hat up at the massive fell-bats swooping through the swirling air of the city. “We really pissed them off, didn’t we?”

“It was likely the fire that did it,” Liddie quietly chuckled.

Pyre blushed, turning a darker shade of iliac ash. “I said I’m sorry!” she hissed.

“Quiet now,” Nethlia cautioned them. “We can’t stay here long — who knows when they’ll notice this guard is missing.” She lightly kicked the dead drow. “Everybody stick close. The slave market is just across the street.”

“It’s pretty open,” Nelva noted worryingly.

“We can’t help that. Just keep your head down and move fast.”

On the berserker’s mark, the party ducked out into the street one by one, with their less distinguishable members going first. Under Liddie’s careful guidance, and the cover of their hooded robes, they safely made it to the other side, having wound and weaved through the dense crowd, all the while avoiding the sharp eyes of the patrolling drow guardsmen.

Autumn and Nethlia went last. Seeing their teammates make it to the other side, they let out a breath of relief. It was now their turn. Tugging the cloth-covered horses along, both mentally and physically, Autumn stepped out into the street.

Immediately, the packed crowd swallowed her up. It was like fighting against a river, but one that flowed in multiple directions.

Autumn felt so exposed — it’d only take one prying glance from above and they’d be uncovered.

Still, she pressed on, buoyed by Nethlia’s presence at her back. Through the crowd they pressed, carving a path through the river rather than with it. However, as they passed the halfway point, a shrill screech filled the air. As Autumn looked upwards in fright, she saw a great number of fell-bats flocking towards their position. Around her, the crowd panicked and began to scatter.

“I think they made us,” Nethlia grimly spoke in Autumn’s ear.

Autumn paled.

The fell-bats that descended upon them were massive, easily as large or larger than a fully grown war-horse. Upon leathery wings, they beat the air, diving towards the crowded street. Grim riders leveled their repeating-crossbows towards the pair and fired without care into the dense crowd.

Cries of pain resounded as the bolts rained down.

Autumn turned her wand skyward and unleashed a cascade of violet magic. The riders’ eyes widened in shock and they swiftly sought to evade the heavenward rain. However, some were not quick enough. Frozen in fright, the riders could only scream as their mounts crashed into the sharp towers and spires.

The awful crunching sounds caused Autumn to flinch.

“Come on! Let’s go!” Nethlia shouted as she threw Autumn aboard the sleigh before leaping up behind her.

Having spotted them amongst the thinning crowd, the guards now thundered towards them, their armored boots echoing on the stained cobblestones. Sharp crossbows shot barbed bolts tipped with glimmering poison towards the pair.

“Hyah!!!” Autumn shouted as she lashed the reins instinctively. Rearing up, the shadowy horses unleashed a great spectral whinny before bolting forwards into the crowd.

Shocked, Autumn almost tumbled out of her seat, but was steadied by Nethlia’s firm hand.

“I didn’t know they could do that!” Nethlia shouted over the dismayed cries of the crowd parting hurriedly before them.

“Me neither!”

With the guards hot on their heels, the now mounted pair thundered across the street, roughly scattering the few pedestrians yet to flee. Reaching the other side in a matter of seconds, they disappeared into the alleyway their friends had vanished into earlier. And as they crossed the threshold, a hastily inscribed rune flashed beneath them, arming itself.

Stopping only for the rest of their party to scramble aboard, Autumn drove them deeper into the twisting maze of back alleys and side streets of the district of coin. Behind them, the rune detonated in a raucous boom. For a brief moment, the dark city was lit like daylight.

Deep in the coin district’s heart, Autumn guided the shadowy horses into a tight alleyway, finding shelter beneath mottled awnings and sharp balconies. She peeked out from under the cloth, scanning the air for signs of aerial pursuit. Upon seeing none, the witch breathed a sigh of relief.

Down from the sleigh, the party leapt.

Nethlia eyed the alleyway with distrust.

“Secure the area. I don’t want anybody creeping up on us. Liddie, I want you to scout ahead and make sure that our route is clear.”

Liddie saluted. “Roger that, boss!” Then, without another word, she dashed off down the alleyway to disappear into the dark. Nethlia shook her head amusedly.

After she’d stretched her legs, Autumn turned her dark, quizzical gaze upon the shadow-clad bones she’d formed into horses. Standing stock-still, they pretended to be inanimate. Autumn glared harder. If shadows could sweat…

Autumn poked the horse closest to her roughly, displacing some of its shadowy form. An aggrieved whinny escaped the conjured beast.

“Huh, how about that. You’re not undead, are you?” Autumn asked, idly tapping her wand against her palm.

Hurriedly, the horses shook their heads.

Autumn hummed distrustfully at them. Beside her, Nethlia stopped, eyeing the pair of horses with a curious look.

“So, they can think, huh? You can still control them, right? Or do I need to smash them?”

The pair of shadowy horses turned pleading eyes Autumn’s way, begging her to protect them. The witch chuckled despite herself.

“I can and not right now — we still need them. But, if they get out of hand…” she trailed off meaningfully.

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With their stay of execution granted, at least for now, the horses calmed. Still, they placed themselves at attention, waiting for Autumn’s commands.

“They’re kinda cute, in that horrific, gothic sort of way.”

The horses preened.

Nethlia eyed her skeptically. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Before they could speak any further, Liddie returned. Waving them onward, the smirking pirate carefully guided them through the winding back alleys and side streets she’d scouted towards the center of the district.

There lay the slave bazaar and all its terrible glory.

Autumn stopped just before she entered the bazaar proper and peered out from the dark alleyway. The market was as grim as she remembered. Cries of pain and torment split the air, coiling it with a fog of terror the witch tapped into like a lake of power.

“Alright, we’ll split up here,” Nethlia whispered. “Liddie, Autumn, you two head on out while we move around towards the riverside. Free who you can, but try to keep a low profile. Autumn, can you do something about that giant? Speak to them or something?”

Autumn hesitated. “I can try, but whether they listen to me…”

“That’ll have to be enough. Try, but stay safe, would you?” Nethlia said to her before turning to the others while grasping the shadowy horses’ reins. “Alright people, let’s move on out.”

Edwyn tossed a bone rune Autumn’s way. “Here,” they said, “this should break the enchantments on the giant’s chains — they’ll be able tae handle the rest.”

“Thank you,” Autumn smiled. Turning, she pulled her hat low and her collar high as she slipped unnoticed for now into the grim market with Liddie at her back.

As she left, so too did the others. Taking the horses and wagon, they skirted around the edges on their way towards the harbor. Nethlia held her pole-hammer tight, awaiting the violence to come. They’d agreed on a signal prior — the simple outbreak of violence or discovery of either side.

Tension ran like lightning through the air.

While the cruel merchants and slavers still bought and sold their chained merchandise within the tense atmosphere, they did so with more caution and sharper eyes. Slaves huddled in their cages and foreign guards tensed as a vast quantity of guards streamed into the bazaar, encircling it like a net. At their head came a familiar face to Autumn, that of the drow captain she’d bribed — Captain Iymidril, she recalled was her name.

The pair’s eyes met over the milling crowd distance.

Captain Iymidril smiled darkly.

“Shit,” Autumn swore as the drow woman gestured imperiously towards them.

At the captain’s gesture, the guards started roughly pushing their way through the crowd towards Autumn. The drow captain languidly followed, her eyes never leaving Autumn’s form.

“So much for stealth,” Liddie muttered beside her. “You head towards the giant while I get some of these war-slaves freed.”

“Alright,” Autumn replied, but Liddie was already gone.

Huffing in annoyance, Autumn picked up her pace, racing against both time and the heavy tread of boots. Shouts of outrage and alarm tailed in her wake as she shouldered her way towards the giant.

Alarmed by the sudden shoving, the crowd slowly parted before Autumn to stare. The abrupt shift revealed a lone drow guardsman, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the fugitive witch. Before he could raise his crossbow, a forceful jinx caught him in the chest, sending him rocketing back into a cage with a clang. He slumped down, unconscious.

For a second, the crowd was silent, taking in what’d happened.

“Criminals! Seize them!” A shout rang through the crowd.

The command stirred the crowd into action. Faces twisted into fright and outrage. Reaching out, they sought to grasp onto the lone witch they saw as vulnerable and weak — a crime worse than anything in this city of wolves.

“Fuck!” Autumn swore.

Hands bounced off a violet shield with pained cries. Drawing from the air, Autumn flung jinxes about herself with wild abandon, unable to miss in the dense crowd. However, even as those caught were flung back, more took their place, greed gleaming in their eyes. Fury flooded Autumn’s veins.

“All of you Begone!” she screamed.

A shockwave pulsed out from the embattled witch, sending those trying to grasp onto her flying back into those behind them, scattering them down like struck bowling pins. The shockwave kept going, rippling through the crowd, depositing terror into their minds.

All was quiet once more, then the screaming started.

A berserker’s enraged roar joined the crowd’s panic. The vocal fury swiftly followed by the sounds of metal and bone crunching beneath the weight of an iron hammerhead. From the same spot, potions and runes bloomed in the dark, joining the song of violence.

At this frenetic signal, unlocked cages around Autumn broke open to disgorge a wave of furious war-slaves upon the terrified crowd. Upon the whipmasters they fell first, tearing limb from limb, before seizing their weapons to turn upon the slavers and merchants.

The human guards of the Divine Empire shielded their frightened masters with bronze arms and armor as they shepherded them back towards their ships anchored in the harbor. Slaves pursued the fleeing merchants with varying degrees of success.

Captain Iymidril snarled as the sudden riot erupted between her and Autumn. The pair’s eyes locked for a moment before the drow drew a spiked whip and lashed out at those in her way.

More crimson whetted the stones.

The giant’s laughter boomed, rattling Autumn’s bones.

Autumn pushed her way through the crush as her nose bled. Those that got in the way of the fed-up witch got a stunning jinx to the face and left at the mercy — or lack thereof — of the freed slaves. The casting of violet illuminated the growing scowl cresting the witch’s face.

In the violence, a slave mistook her fleeing form for that of a slaver. Raising their stolen club high, the bloodied human rushed at Autumn with a vengeful howl. Autumn spun in place, her magic already intercepting the descending weapon. However, as she did so, her leg caught upon a fallen body, sending her falling back under the weight of the slave.

The air rushed from Autumn’s lungs as she impacted the blood-slick cobblestones. Gasping, she glanced up and met the maddened eyes of the slave atop her. Grimy hands sought to strangle her.

Autumn lashed out instinctively, grasping onto the slave’s face. Her Touch of Terror flooded the slave’s mind with a wave of unholy despair, conjuring the worst of their nightmares to the forefront of their mind. Unable to take the sheer amount of fear flooding them, the human slave’s eyes rolled back, and they slumped down atop Autumn, further driving the air from the witch’s lungs with a wheeze.

Pinned beneath the weight, Autumn was helpless as the frightened crowd rampaged around her. Boots slammed into her face and body as they scrambled past. A lucky — or unlucky depending on how you view it — strike cracked against Autumn’s jaw, splitting her lip.

Panicked and enraged, Autumn shouted, funneling her magic desperately to free herself.

“Begone!!!”

The unconscious body atop her was picked up by a wave of force, sending it and the others around the prone witch flying back once more. Autumn’s head pounded from using the word of power. Her mouth felt dry and tasted of copper.

With a bloodied lip and pounding headache, Autumn staggered to her feet amongst the clearing of groaning bodies. She limped towards the laughing giant that loomed blurry in her vision.

Beside the giant’s chains, stood its owner — a human merchant gilded in gold and ornate skulls. With a whip in hand, he lashed out repeatedly at the laughing giant, his face flushed purple in rage. “Enough, you beast!” he raged, lashing again and again, but the giant ignored him and continued to laugh.

The slaver drew his whip back to lash once more, but it was caught by something behind the man. He turned around to see what’d stopped him and came face to face with a bloodied, dark-eyed witch.

Without a word, Autumn drove a dagger into his eye.

She let the body drop to the cobblestones, lightly stepping over it to gaze up at the giant bound to the stones. Long matted hair dangled over a set of bright, gigantic eyes and a maw of yellowed teeth. The giant felt her gaze upon it and turned to look at the witch standing over the body of its tormenter and captor. A massive unkempt eyebrow raised.

Autumn met the giant’s eyes unflinching and spoke to it in the Jötun tongue — the language of giants.

“If I free you, will you help us?”

The giant’s booming laughter halted as it heard her words. After a moment of thought, a rumbling voice emerged from the creature’s maw, carrying with it a wave of rotten stench.

Autumn scrunched her nose at the smell.

“And who,” it boomed, “is ‘us?’”

The force of its voice staggered Autumn back a step.

“Me, my friends, the slaves! Anyone who isn’t a drow or slaver!” she shouted back up at it.

The giant eyed the witch. “To feast on bones, is my way. To gorge on lesser kin, I indulge. If you free, as you say, I shall eat and eat and eat on those not you or yours, you have my word.”

Autumn eyed the giant back. “I swear if you hurt me or my friends, you’ll regret it.”

A grin was her response. “A giant’s word is booming and loud, heard for all to hear. If I break it, you will know, for my steps are never quiet. I know the cost of witches and hags both, and I know not to cast either aside. You have my word, speaker to giants.”

Autumn grumbled, but took the rune Edwyn gave her from her belt anyway and, as they’d shown her, activated it before crashing it onto the enchanted chains holding the giant down. A wave of magic rippled over the enchantments — they flickered and died.

With the magic gone, the giant flexed, causing the metal links to creak and groan.

A fearful silence washed over the scrambling crowd as they heard the noise. Even the beasts huddled in their cages quelled. All watched on in terror as the giant’s muscles bulged against the thick dark-steel. The metal strained and strained, desperately holding onto its shape, but with a final thunderous roar, the giant snapped the metal, freeing themselves from their bonds.

As the giant laughed once more, the screaming started anew, this time louder and more desperate than before.

A ruthless grin stole over the giant’s face. It reached down into the frightened crowd, plucking up a terrified guardsman in its massive grasp. The guardsman screamed, tearfully begging for help from his fellows as he futilely drove a dagger into the thick flesh of the giant’s hand — the strikes little more than pinpricks to it. Up he was raised, up to the giant’s stinking, gaping maw…

…and the giant bit.

Gore rained down on the stones.

Screams grew louder at the sight.

Autumn hadn’t bothered to stick around to watch after she’d freed the giant. Instead, she’d rushed northward through the stunned crowd, making her way towards the eastern river tower, intent on opening the passage. However, just as the screaming restarted, and just before she crossed the market’s edge, a whip lashed out towards her, halting her in place as it scythed across her hastily raised shield.

The sharp-tipped whip scored a bright line across the magic an inch from Autumn’s eye.

Following the path of the retreating whip, Autumn met the eyes of the drow captain once more.

“Well, well, well,” Iymidril purred. “Look at what we have here. I thought there was something strange about you when we first met, I just didn’t think it was this. A slave lover? Here I was hoping for something a little more original. Good work on killing those brotherhood drones — my mother is extraordinarily pissed at that.”

“Look,” Autumn growled, “I don’t have time for you right now, so I’ll make it simple: get out of my way or die.”

Lymidril smirked at her threat. “Oh? Will you be able to, I wonder?” she cracked her spiked whip in the air. “I’d like to see you try.”