This is a tale from a few years past... A glimpse to the story, not known by many.
The night was cold outside, but in the tent of Dameeti the fires roared, insence sticks burned and exotic instruments played. Played by drunken minstrels to celebrate yet another victory to the favor of the Easterners on the busy frontiers of war over Middle-earth. Lavishing tapestries and goods of all kind were brought here as they had been raided from Gondor’s minor houses. Slave-girls scurried about in tiny costumes or nude, some old, some new, but many enough for a man to have a new conquest each night.
While pacing in the crowd within the lavishing tent, and taking in the pleasant mess of celebration and delight mixed with the lament of others, Maxxeem spotted a glimpse of yellow hair wave past him. By casual impulse he scooped his arm around the curvy frame of the young girl to pull her near.
SLAP! – Flinged a fair hand a response to the intrucion to the tall man’s cheek, quiker than Maxxeem could blink his eyes. He laughed and returned the gesture in kind, whipping the girl’s behind with his wide palm and sending her skipping out of his reach. “Ha! I’ll tame you yet, little cobra!” Maxxeem caught only a brief sight of the red print of his hand on white shapely rump, and the golden hair flaying by breeze of swft movement before the girl disappeared into the lively crowd. He did not chase her. He had other things to do tonight.
He found the right curtain. Behind it in his private corner, warlord Dameeti would be enjoying his own wicked delights, or planning for the next assault. Right now there was no sound coming from within, and after a while spent in observation, Maxxeem was convinced that the way was clear for him. He lifted the curtain and slipped into the scented shadow behind it. His hand held the pomel of his scimitar, which already thirsted for the murderous act that he was here for. His heart pounded, calculating the beats of eternity from this moment to the moment of the death of warlord Dameeti.
He found Dameeti dead on his bed, but not as he had expected to find him. There was a deep cut wound across the whole length of his bare chest from his adam’s apple to his manhood, that still stood upright, much more alive than the rest of him. Maxxeem had barely enough time to recover from his surprise, astonishment and disappointment, before someone else stepped in, saw him his scimitar, and the dead man on the bed. Maxxeem realized his peril to be at hand. With a swift slash of his scimitar reached to cut the unfortunate arrival’s throat, but the circumstances were against him, and the curtain fell between him and his target before his weapon could do any damage. Behind the curtain’s fall, shouts of alarm were instantly heard.
Maxxeem rushed to the other end of the tent, and broke a hole to the thick wall of the tent that would let him through. He knew, that he received the blame for killing Dameeti, even without doing so. For a second he cursed Assad El Horgast, a wealthy scholar who had assigned him for this murder, and who had asked him to bring Dameeti’s signature dagger to him as proof of the successful kill. Now Maxxeem had no time to search for it. He took the first mount he could find and rode into the night of the bushy desert of southern Rhun.
In the desert he soon came across horse-track, heading the same route he was, across the harsh sunbarren landscape. Another day he found the horse dead. It was very badly skinned, and some of it’s blood collected along with some roughly cut meatpieces. Foot-prints continued from there on and he followed them. Once he thought that he saw a glimpse of someone walking on the hills in the horizon, but it was only a vision of a moment, before it disappeared again.
The next day he found a strange camp, a shelter made of the fresh skin of the horse, rich of blood that had dried stiff and reeked of death. Not too far from it, he saw a figure laying face-down on the ground. The figure was covered with layers of dried blood to such extend that the sun couldn’t burn through it to the fair skin of the nearly naked girl. He could still recognize the white hair, and the very familiar shape of the rump to belong to the girl on the previous night.
When he got closer, he got the instinctive sense of peril, and hesitated to approach the seemingly dead woman. He was right with his precautions. As soon as he nudged the side of the round buttocks with the flat of his blade, the girl leaped up from the ground. In her hand was a dagger that she had hid in the sand beneath her palm. She flung at him, and then skipped to his horse, leaped on it’s back and attempted to gallop away, but Maxxeem was quik enough to stop her and toss her back to the ground.
The girl got up quikly. Now she stood her ground and glared at him, ready to defend herself with her knife.
She was straw-haired, with clear bone structure that hinted of Rhorirric descent, but quite short in stature. The rest of her was feminine and pampered, but the way she carried the layers of dry blood on her made her seem more savage than a pet. Maxxeem also notes, that the dagger she holds is the signature dagger that belonged to Dameeti and what he was ment to take to Assad El Horgast.
Maxxeem rode around the girl and scowled her for stealing his kill from him, but left his need for the dagger unmentioned. He mocked her bodypaint, despite knowing that it likely saved the girl from the burning sun of the desert.
The girl was quiet and still defensive. She seemed to wait for him to make his move. Her aggressive demeanor didn’t seem to fit with her tender appearance and the glare of her sapphire-blue eyes made Maxxeem feel uneasy about the serious silence that she wore. He continued to trot a circle around her and mocs her about her height now and her clear western descent. That seems to work.
“I’m still tall enough to slap you! You must grow a little taller yet, barbarian, before you are safe from me!” There was a clear counter-mockery and a bit of jest in her voice that breaks the ice.
Maxxeem laughed easily. “My, I had no idea that I was in such peril! Perhap I ought to leave you to the desert then, if you are going to treat me so poorly.” He rode another circle around her, taking in the feminine view which would be by shape alone enough to please any man, and the memory of her soft white skin, now hidden under the layers of blood, made him grin even more. “Pity, though. I’d get a good price for such a rare pearl, if I brought you to the markets of Khand, or Harad. But a bad temper like that is sure to lessen your value. I hardly think you worth anything for anyone, exept the vultures here.”
That seems to soften the girl enough. Clearly she had suffered her share of the desert and didn’t like the idea of being left behind. She now begs kindly for the delivery, and agrees that he may take her, and sell her wherever he pleases. She’d put out her best performance to ensure that Maxxeem got a price worth the effort for delivering her. To ease Maxxeem with his doubt, the girl gave up her dagger and mounted Maxxeem’s horse with him. Thus agreeing to share a journey to mutual profit, the two rode on, to Kamurlaria, the city by the sea of Rhun that was home and headquarters of the notorious scholar, Assad El Horgast.
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While they rode towards Kamurlaria, Maxxeem mentioned that he was going to see Assad El Horgast. Ynel – so she named herself, seemed to grow uneasy by this knowledge. She tried to persuade Maxxeem to not go to see Assad El Horgast, and told him about a treasure.
The dagger that she took from Dameeti and then had to give up to Maxxeem, was a key to the treasure chamber, and that is why Assad El Horgast wanted it. Ynel tried to suggest that Maxxeem doesn’t take the dagger to Assad El Horgast, but would come with her to the north instead, so that they may claim the treasure together.
Maxxeem didn’t believe her at first, atleast he pretends not to believe her.
When they arrived in Kamurlaria, Maxxeem made a stop by a fountain to let Ynel wash the blood off herself before going to the market. He measured the dagger in his hand and his two options for a moment, distracted only for a second by his thought. Ynel slipped away, disappearing from Maxxeem. The man cursed about it, but didn’t waste time on looking for her. After all, he got his kill and the dagger, which was what he needed to claim his reward. However, the possibility of Ynel telling the truth tickled his mind, and he lingered in the markets of Kamurlaria for a night.
The next day Maxxeem went to see Assad El Horgast, in his tower. The news of Dameeti’s death had already arrived, and upon seeing Maxxeem return, Assad El Horgast urgently asked for the dagger. Maxxeem gave him a dagger and collects his reward for killing Dameeti. After that he lingered a while in place, long enough to everhear Assad El Horgast to give an order to his henchmen to prepare his boat for a journey towards the north for tomorrow.
Now Maxxeem became convinced that Ynel had spoken the truth.
He left casually, but in fact, he hastens for the harbor to get himself a riverboat.
He had given Assad El Horgast a copy of the dagger that the crafty tinkers of Kamurlaria had prepared for him the night before, and gave the decoy dagger to Assad El Horgast. He kept the original one to himself!
In the harbor, a deja-vu strikes him, as he once more spoted a yellow top of head slide like a gloud past him. This time, he managed to get a steady grip on that hair, and pulled the girl aside for a little chat.
Ynel told Maxxeem that she was expecting Assad El Horgast to travel north, as soon as he would receive the dagger. She planned to stay one step ahead of him, and steal the dagger from Assad El Horgast along the journey.
Now they were both one step ahead of Assad El Horgast, and Maxxeem had the dagger. Ynel where it belonged. Maxxeem's gain dependen on Ynel's knowledge, but she alone could't get anywhere without the dagger. A long boat-rie was ahead, where Maxxeem had to keep an eye on the dagger aswell as his own neck for the whole journey with Ynel. After all, she had killed a man before to get it.
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As they sail north, Ynel told a story about her ancestor, from the time before the lands of Rhovanion took their shape and kingdoms of today drew their borders.
Among the northmen who lived in Rhovanion back then, rose a wealthy family of merchants. They were one of the first to begin boat-faring on the river network that spread from the Sea of Rhun to the Iron hills, or as far north as the root of the lonely mountain, and the elven kingdoms of Mirkwood. By operating trade along the rivers between these realms, the family grew mighty in wealth, by any standards. It came to possess marvelous crafts of the dwarves and some artifacts of the elves alike. Particularly the family was in good terms with the dwarves of the Iron Hills, ever valuing their expertize of craftsmanship. It was said, that the house of the trade had dwarves permanently residing in it, for practical aswell as diplomatic purposes. In generations of time, the number of the family heads and their servants alone were that of a small city, and their house on the riverbend was a mansion envied by many.
But all things end at some time, and so came the Wainriders. Upon hearing news of the aproacing of the enemy, the head of the family realized his wealth, took his treasures, and hid them in a secret place, in stone. The door of the chamber he locked with a mechanism crafted to him by the dwarves. A key to the chamber was made – a dagger of such shape, that it made the mechanism turn.
When the Wildermen came, the head of the family gathered his sons and grandsons in the house’s defense, and gave the key to the chamber for his wife’s safe-keeping.
Sadly, the house was overrun, and all the sons of the family slaughtered by barbarous assault. The women were saved, but taken as slaves, and the dagger was separated from it’s carrier. Later on, the Wainriders were beaten and driven back off the land, the wife of the the master of merchants was rescued, the key – the dagger, was forever lost.
Taking such regret for failing her husband’s last wish, the merchant’s wife made songs of lamentation. In those songs were described in detail the greatness of the treasure that once belonged to the family, the dagger’s shape, and the location of the secret keep, and these songs she sung to her daughters. The daughters moved their own ways, got married to different corners of the world, many ending up in Rohan once it began to be. And always with them was the song, ever sung from mother to daughter at bedtime, passing down from generation to generations.
Then Dameeti began his raids to the treasuries of the less-well-known lands, and picked up the strange dagger as any loot from some naïve tribesman’s belt. However, him carrying a dagger like that as his signature became known, and that is how Assad El Horgast heard about it.
Assad El Horgast had by prophecy or magic become aware of the treasure and the key to the secret keep. Since then he had kept his eyes and ears open for finding the key. He did not know that one of his favorite pets was the very descendant of the great merchant, and also on the look for the dagger.
Ynel used to belong to Assad El Horgast, as a slave. How she ended up that way, is another story altogether… (( ;) ))
However, As soon as the rumor of such a dagger being carried By Dameeti was brought to Assad El Horgast’s ears, Ynel heard it too.
She escaped Assad El Horgast, and hastened to claim the dagger from Dameeti before her master could get it. Dameeti had no idea what he had got his hands on. He thought it a mere pretty knife, fitting for a king or warlord, that he used for boasting with. He died for his mistake.
“ And you planned to claim this treasure? To beat the race against your former master, Assad El Horgast, who is known for his magical means and cruelty? ” – Maxxeem questions Ynel.
Ynel nods her head in concideration. “I admit, I have very little experience on such endeavors. But I know the location by heart, and believe in my chanses. We have the key, and once we have retrieved the treasure we’ll be kings and queens ourselves, and may have our own realm far from here, if we like.”
“Certainly, but you? A Rohirric slave-girl? You don’t even look like the spawn of any ancient lineage. Why, you look like you have never even been on a boat” mocks Maxxeem.
Ynel grows angry.
“Who are you to question my line, or my worth, bastard mercenary! Even if my angestor is forgotten by most, his wealth and influense was once for no one to question! It is true, that my mother and grandmother were but fallen branches of a tree that once bloomed, but the right of blood no time or diversion can spoil! War took my ancestor’s glory, but I carry it within me! Luck abandoned his house, but I will raise it! Raiders and thieves took away the key to the keep, but I’ve found it! Men like YOU took my honor a long time ago! May the heavens launch their judgement on me! May the generations of diverse have it’s bite on my lineage, and years of slavery stain my status, but it wont turn my blood! May Wizards and seers haunt my tail and demons from hell stand in my way, but even then! Even then I will have what is mine!”
“And by stars, so will I!” Maxxeem grabbed the girl. “I told you that I would tame you yet, and so I will! I might aswell start right now!”
Maxxeem was impressed by Ynel’s proud speech and feld his masculine urges grow. He sought to kiss her, and she allowed it, but then stared and glared at him, unimpressed and with such a demeanor that would catch it’s cold on a fire-fragon’s heart. Maxxeem desides to not press his urges, concidering that Ynel still wanted the dagger and didn’t need him, and that she had already slain a man during the act to get it. He couldn’t watch over the dagger and his own life while in lustful abandon with the girl, and he still needed her to show him to the treasure.
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After a few days of anxious travel along the river, they came ashore somewhere in the innermost Wilderland. From there they trecked by land, always north, following what seems to be a shallow hillrange, maybe the base of and ancient mountain. Maxxeem began to think that Ynel can’t know where she was leading them, but eventually hills began to rise around them, and they came to a place that Ynel seemed to recognize. It was the crowned head of an ancient king, carved to the stone of a cliff. Erosion has eaten it so badly that it would hardly be recognized for a face unless one was looking for it. From there, Ynel headed to the direction the king was looking, and found another bare Cliffside. Against the cliff leaned a large, natural boulder that created a narrow gap between the boulder and the cliff, a shelter from rain and wind. In this gap Ynel found the outlines of a door in the shadow, but saw no hole for a lock. They attempt to push the door in. Maxxeem got a hanse to show off his manly muscles. The rock wall gave in and in and the door moved in with a heavy grumble, opening a pass into a narrow corridor.
They followed the way into the depths of the hill and came into a round, wide room, built of rare white stone that glistered like salt and illuminated every glimpse of light. The two couldn’t tell where the light was coming from, but it was bright and cold, like midwinter’s day, even brighter than outside by this hour. The floor of the room was detailed with symbols which might or ight ot have meaning to them, and on the walls were carved stone images, strange and horrific faces of beasts or monsters, some recognizable and some unknown, placed in a neat row like trophies on a hunter’s wall.
Ynel stuck the dagger into the narrow mouth of one of the stone faces on the wall, and twisted like a key in a hole. The wall next to the face opened up with a roar of the boulder, and whispering moans in the air like invisible laborers were pushing the stone aside. Once silence set again Maxxeem and Ynel dared to step forward. They came to a wide chamber that was piled from floor to bottom with, Glistening gems and idols of gold and primitive jewelry made of finest materials.
Hypnosed by the riches they quikly began hauling the treasure. Ynel could carry a smaller load at once, so she left the room first with her hands full, while Maxxeem stayed a moment longer before having the fill of his carrying capacity.
While he was at it, he heard Ynel scream in the previous room. When he got there, he saw that Assad El Horgast has arrived, together with a dozen armored spearmen.
Assad El Horgast had Ynel by the golden bead around her neck and shook her forcefully, urging. “How did you get here, she lynx!? Answer me!” In his hand still was his own copy of the key-dagger, which he was preparing to use soon. To find his former, escaped pet here brought urgent worries and panic of lost treasure to his understanding, and when he saw Maxxeem appear, he grew mad with rage. Without question he commands his men to kill him, while he unleashed his astonished rage in murderous attempt on Ynel. He lifted the dagger in his hand with attempt to strike her dead with it, when he was suddenly halted by a horrific sight!
One of the monstrous heads on the wall began to move. It extracted itself from the wall with a hideous, long body following it and twirling out of the worm-hole where it was hidden. The emerged giant stone-centipede began to harvest the spear-men with good appetite, reaping their flesh with it's scythe-like mandibles and numerous thorned legs!
Maxxeem did his best trying to hack his way past the same troops to save Ynel from Assad El Horgast’s knife. However, Ynel got to save herself first. While the scholar was distracted by the horror emerging, she grabbed HER key-dagger from her hip, and plunged it into the chest of the Assad El Horgast. Assad El Horgast died with an expression disbelief and confusion on his face. The same dagger, which he was about to kill the woman with, now being plunged hilt-deep into his heart.
Ynel has one moment to gather herself after Assad El Horgast has gone down. She picked up his dagger, now wielding 2, to defend herself. Just in time! The giant centipede grabbed her and lifted her frail body from the ground in attempt to bring her up to it’s hideous shredding mouth. Ynel slashed back like a cat with her 2 daggers, in wild desperate rage trying to dodge the chopping and slashing mandibles and other razor-sharp extentions that seem to strike at her from every direction. Her arms became bloodied with slash-wounds and finally she gives up her defence and strikes both of her daggers into the black wide-set eyes of the monster. The creature looses it’s sight, but gets her to it’s jaws and bites her hip before dropping her to the ground.
Maxxeem began hacking on the blinded monster, breaking cracks to it’s solid armor until he finally got through and managed to draw oozy blood. Ynel scratched from below, unable to stand due to her broken hip, but giving her best effort in desperate urge to survive. She kept on striking in the vulnerable underside of the centipede. Finally the centipede began to reflexively roll into a twirl, and curled around itself into an unliving knot.
They spent a moment in the blood-filled room, measuring their situation and the options.
“What a shame. I had some plans for those hips.” moans Maxxeem with a grin, looking at Ynel’s damaged flank.
“And I had some plans to make a cap out of your foreskin!” Ynel hissed and gasped. Then she was quiet and very still for a moment, in pain, and doing her best to deal with it. “Maybe another time”.
There was so much treasure that they couldn’t take it all with them. They desides to take as much as they can, and leave the rest.
“My master is dead, and with only this that I have with me now, I can ensure my life as a free woman. But now that I have it all, I cannot think what else to do, what else to want? You were right, mercenary, I may be of an ancient line of merchants, but have I the knowledge to live up to my heritage? Have I the wisdom and skill to be a merchant? I do not feel it in me, but one day, perhaps. I will return south with you, and see what the world and freedom can teach me. One day, I will know better, and make my own treasure and my own world around it.”
They re-sealed the keep, and both took 1 dagger of the now existing 2. Agreeing that whichever of them would get back there first with a better plan and a better purpose, will claim the rest of the treasure, and do with it whatever they please.
