Its a bit old...two months or so...but it does show progress compared to earlier writngs...
Lyras slowly crept leaned against the cold dark stone wall. The stench of sweat and blood flared his nostrils. The breeze that came from ahead bore a smell of rust and chemicals, curling his dark hair.
The body of a dead Dark Elf layed behind him, hidden deep in a prison cell, imitating a sleeping prisoner sleeping on the blood and vomit stained bed. The stench was so unbearable that even rats avoided this level of the Namrak Dungeons.
As he eyed the next Black Guard a hundred meters away from him, he slowly prepared the diamond dagger dipped in poison, dripping with crimson blood.
“Pst…Lyras…” a whisper as faint as the breeze itself came from the next prison cell.
Lyras leaped onto the ceiling with the speed of a cheetah and looked down. Like dark spider web his he hung his hair and turned around exposing a faceless silver mask that covered his face
“Its me, Raphael, remember? The captain of the Lordly Wave…” he leaned against the prison bars. In the faint light his ruffled blond hair and beard were drenching with sweat. From the hair pressed against his head s few streaks of sweat rolled down his forehead, flaring his hazel eyes.
A wood elf always remembers his prey…Captain… Lyras’ voice whispered inside Raphael’s head.
He spoke nothing, only gave him a hard look. He wanted to fell on his knees and beg for release, but it was below his pride, but these were the Namrak Dungeons, and mating season for the warden’s pet spiders pet was only days away.
I shall return again…do not worry…Captain… Lyras whispered again, after a faint laughter that rang in Raphael’s head. He turned towards the Black Guard again who stood like a statue made from darksteel and groomed with spider web.
He crept like a silent hunter on the ceiling above; his black hair hanging downward giving him the appearance of masked wraith. With his mind locked deep in his shadow meditation it seemed like ages before he leaned the diamond dagger towards the guard ahead.
From behind the demonic helm embodied with glistening rubies and sapphires placed one on top of each other, representing dominance of discord over order, the guard’s spider black eyes darted across the large grotto ahead, the central catwalk surrounded by magical floating pools of lava used for the Xarim blacksmiths ahead that dripped onto the Thrall Gnomes below. Their screams echoed in the dungeons reminding its prisoners of the cruelty and the perverted, wicked mind of the Dark Elves. The small pools of molting lava were the only sources of faint light deep in the darkness on the surface below, making the Gnomes look like scattering cockroaches. He curved a smile on his grey face exposing his snow white fangs but in the same time it turned upside down as a small trail of crimson blood rolled down his chin. His eyes swung wide open as he was pulled behind in a heartbeat and slammed against the wall. All his blurred dying sight saw was a faceless silver mask.
Lyras took the body in his arms and carried it down the dark hallway, blood still dripping from the mouth of a dead elf making a trail of spots spattered against the cold cobblestone.
It reminded Lyras of bearing the dead body of his beloved, a crime he never committed, only this time instead of tears and shouts of despair there were smiles and a mocking laughter, and instead of placing an avatar of bliss and beauty on a soft silk laden bed, there was dumping of dark and sinister soul-ugly elf down the stairs leading to lightless cell of a few caged nightmares, feasting on the bodies of the few dead guards as well. A few abyssal growls came from the dark cells, louder than the irritating clanging of dark elven plate mail.
“Don’t worry darlings, you will be released later as well…”he said with a muffled voice to himself, slowly awakening from his shadow meditation.
With his hands still covered in blood he slowly took his mask away from face, and looked towards Raphael whose yellowish grin stung Lyras’ deep green eyes like a poisonous sting. He brushed the dirt from his leather armor and shoulder pads and wiped the dagger from his brown cloak making another blood stain before sheathing it again on his green leather pouch. Behind him a yawning steel door was wide open giving a glimpse in a dark cell with no light or what so ever, only a pale hand still twitching lay on the floor, as a signature that this was Lyras’ (former) cell.
He came to Raphael’s cage and took a small needle from his pouch. Closing his eyes, he put it slowly inside to rusted lock. After a few seconds and a loud click the door creaked and opened wide. Lyras opened his eyes again and smirked at Raphael. Fear showered his face, and he backed away from Lyras.
“So, Captain…” he said in a calm mocking tone “would you prefer to be dumped at the bottom of this hellish prison or kill you right now, hmmm?”
“L-l-yras please calm yourself.” Raphael said, giving him a hard look.
“You tried to kill me Captain Korrin…” Lyras said, slowly approaching him. “And you even made a fool out of me.” He raised the needle in front of his face.
“I didn’t poison your food! I was on the deck. Please…” before he could finish Lyras clenched his face and slammed him on the wall, placing the needle in front of Raphael’s left eye.
“I might as well torture you to death.” Lyras arched his eyebrows and grinned. “But no…I want to hunt my prey…” he slammed Raphael on the ground and turned around towards the grotesque catwalk. “Come on, I’m taking you out of here, Captain.” He said with a frown on his face.
“Why would I want to kill you Lyras?” Raphael said with fear I’m his voice. “You were already a slave aboard the ship. Your master prized your abilities. He would rather kill me first before a lay a hand on our face.” He rushed after him when he heard the growl of the beasts from below.
“I am no one’s slave…” Lyras said walking towards the catwalk. “I was in no better situation when I was his slave, than the last six months I spend in here…” he said and pressed with his boot on the catwalk making the first step. After a while Raphael followed behind as well.
The immense grotto was spread before them. On the lower levels below there were catwalks similar like this one criss crossing the gigantic cave from the one end to the other, its size so big, that could contain a Dwarven village. On the bottom of the cave, waves of thrall gnomes were scattering around. Like a lake of insects with a few islands of growing lava here and there among the masses. Far above a dozen floating pools and cauldrons filled with lava and toxins made all the light in the grotto. Not a single torch could be seen anywhere, only the ones of the guards the patrolled the catwalks, below and far above and the guard that just came on the other end of this catwalk.
“Fer eth’ul Lyras! Raphael!” the guard shouted and staggered. His armor was not different from the rest of the guards; he looked like a cloned bastard that was made in the Weirding Pools of the Thalid-Cy. He threw the torch at Lyras and took a metal crossbow from his back. Lyras leaned on the left with cat’s reflexes and punched Raphael in the nose. He fell on the ground with a bleeding nose and the torch missed him for an inch, falling somewhere behind them down the lairs of the imprisoned beasts that made them growl even louder.
Just before the Dark Elf could fire a bolt Lyras threw the dagger at him and slammed it right between his spider black eyes. He slammed on the ground making a loud noise. The crossbow fell down the grotto and splashed in the last giant cauldron twenty feet below the catwalk. Its melting let out a poisonous fume that burned Raphael’s eyes and made him vomit his yesterday’s share of carrion and rotten meat from the gone wrong experiments of the Thalid-Cy.
“Come on you fool!” Lyras said loudly running towards the end of the catwalk. He stood before the corpse and smiled impishly giving Raphael a devilish grin. He undressed the dead guard’s body and his own leather armor. He took the dagger from the skull and his long sword made from enchanted electrum.
Raphael already knew the wheels that turned in Lyras’ head. He knew his kind all too well. And loathed himself because of it. He looked at the naked corpse of the dark elf with a lot of uneasiness. Helping Lyras he dumped the body in the cauldron below and watched it melt; a trail of black smoke coming out of the melting flesh, like a dark soul leaving its own body.
“Why am I doing this…” he said calmly. “I should have thrown myself in the mouth of that giant squid when it attacked my ship if I knew this would happen.”
“But that would made the hunt very boring and meaningless don’t you think?” Lyras said laughing.
Raphael turned and jolted when he saw a Black guard standing in front of his face. Luckily that was Lyras.
He was the only companion he had for the last six months. Not only he hasn’t seen the sun, but the only person he could talk to was himself. He was alone in that cell, the Black Guards patrolling up and down the corridor all day long not saying a word, like the ghosts of long dead soldiers.
“Raphael, hurry!” Lyras said while tossing the clothes over the catwalk in the cauldron. Both of them hurried down the other end of the corridor, and up through long circle stairs that led to the first levels of the Xarim engineering halls. Disguised as a guard, he led Raphael in front of him beating and spitting on him so they could look only as a guard leading a prisoner to his new cell. But Lyras took great enjoyment in the task, and Raphael knew that as well.
But what both of them didn’t know was that his clothes didn’t fell in the giant cauldron. The breeze took them slightly away, and the cloak didn’t fell with the rest of the ragged trousers and leather vest. It floated it way down, as the tens of other catwalks until it reached the very bottom of it.
It was terrible down there. Hundreds of gnomes shouting and screaming being devoured by giant spiders and molten lava mixed with all sorts of toxins, all on the delight of the guards and their captain. They stood on a platform, a dozen of them, all with their swords pointing at their bets, which gnome would die the last. Their captain stood up front. Taller then the rest of its kin, laughing out loud, tossing daggers at those who tried to crawl their way up the platform to safety. A pool of rotten meat, lava, spiders and screaming gnomes floated below them.
“Where did you get these from Captain?” one of the guards asked in the tongue of the dark elves.
“From the first levels of the dungeons. The bastards thought they could escape under the watchful eyes of the Thalid-Cy wardens. Ha!” he said out loud and took a sip from a bottle in on of his hands and shared it with the rest of his crew.
“I will go and get something to eat while we are at it.” Another one said and headed towards the exit up in the barracks. A deep green cloak fell softly on his head while the others weren’t watching. With fast reflexes he swashed with his halberd and cut it in two, before it even enveloped his black helm.
“Only junk…” he said, breathing hard. All sorts of beasts and people fell from the upper levels. Manticores, Undead, even escaped Flesh Golems and Cy experiments. He took a piece of the cloak and sniffed it, scrubbing its patterns with his hand. It reeked with a stench of blood and a putrid smell of a poison.
“Captain, over here!” he called out to him.
From the black mass of soldiers the captain appeared obviously frustrated because of the interruption. He raised his sword to cut off the head of the soldier. Luckily he saw the cloak in pieces splattered on the ground just in time.
“Lyras….” He arched his eyebrows and grinned “Go and inform the wardens of this, Gorad, tell them…The masked beast is free…” he rose again and grinned.
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