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Lanyena
A Year of Wandering
Author's Note: This is going to be a year long project, updated each week for the next fifty two weeks on sundays. It takes the most eventful thing out of each week and tells about it rather then day to day things which would be rather tedious to keep up with. Anyway this is also a bit of an introduction into my little world through the side of a woman that's the last of her kind.
Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to me, save for the Drunar which were created by Etrigani.
The brackish, cold waters rippled as the ancient boat slid through them in silence. At the back manning the oar was a stooped man, red hair flecked with grey. Evan's careful actions kept the small boat on a straight course for the other side of the swampland. Fog had rolled in earlier that morning, like a thick blanket it hung in the air, heavy with humidity. The oarman was already sweating somewhat, the neckline of his cloth shirt dampened. Evan had brought many people through the swamps of southern Conkora, had seen all manner of folks. However something was just different about the single quite woman sitting in the middle of the boat. She was wearing men's clothing, which was strange enough but what wa even more bizare was what he'd seen of her hands. A soft, stoney grey with hintings of blue from what he'd seen in the lamplight back at the western dock. She said that she needed to go east, to find something out for herself. When he was certain that his attention could lapse the old man tried to put the style of dress back into his mind while the heavy brown hooded traveling cloak was faced away.
Tanned leather ankle boots, appearing to be fit very careful to her correct shoe size, which told him she was a speedy one, perhaps a fighter. The wolf hide leggings, close to the skin but loose enough to allow a wide range of motion supported that guess. What else she was wearing beneath that traveling cloak the stranger was almost ridiculously careful to not reveal. Perhaps she was a disgraced mage out of Vespil, her odd skin hue the result of a spell gone horribly wrong. Or, and the oarman's very soul trembled at this possibility, she could have been some miscolored Zarg spy that was sent off that island of death that all Zarg hailed from. Just as his wonderings were getting interesting instinct caused him to snap out of his daze and correct the course when an undercurrent tilted the nose too far south.
"Oarman." The woman spoke up suddenly, voice as placid as ice. It made Evan jerk, which made him have to correct the course once again. "While we seem to be halfway I'll pay you the rest of your fee." A rustling sound, the sliding of flesh against cloth was heard followed shortly by the clinking of silver pieces, of which four were placed on the crossboard beside her. After that she fell silent again and seemed to focus on the distant abyss of swirling haze. The man just shook his head at the spy idea now. Any real Zarg was either too brutal, primitive, or illiterate enough to speak in such a way. Whoever his mystery charge could be she was of high learning for certain.
The minutes passed silence and finally the mists began to thin out, allowing the opposite bank to be seen as they came upon it. Now his curiousity had began to eat away at him, Evan wanted to know more about his strange charge so he voiced a question that he prayed would not get him stabbed to death. "My lady... would it be too much of a trouble to ask for your name? I have never traveled across the swamp with any as silent as you. Most would be rambling nervously about the things beneath the water and you seem perfectly content."
"Does it really seem to be that amazing?" Came the equally curious voice from under the hood that had turned to the left enough for her to seem to look at Evan. He felt her gaze leave him and settle on the surface of the water. "My name is Lanyena." For that minute Evan realized that she seemed to have an air of importance about her, something that just made her different from anyone he'd ever spoken with. Like an old woman with a lifetime of stories to tell. More accurately like someone right out of the pages of history. Evan's mind must have lapped again for the boat came to an abrupt halt when it ran aground next to the she rose up and stepped out of the boat, bidding Evan a single nod in farewell and vanished into the mists.
The son of Cecil, insane with grief had started a blood hunt that suceeded with her people already weakened from the war on the Zarg Islands. Now as far as she knew, she was the last of her people. Doomed to walk the earth alone until she met her end at disease or the sword. For that decade of hiding the woman had stayed inside that cave, staving off hunger for weeks at a time to reduce the possibility that Sentona's forces would find her. It wasn't until she'd caught wind of a new race, almost like her in their appearance had errected a city of their own out in the desert. Now it was almost eating away at her, the idea some of her people had survived the genocide.
The land now came to her attention. Lush, blooming summer trees with high grasses growing, threatening to make the path vanish under the rampant growth. She was grateful the land of Conkora seemed to be without change despite the great rising of Truin from the bottom of the sea. This land had always held a certain appeal to the woman for it's insistance on growing despite the time of year. The farms were always producing grain and other important foods, making Conkora a kingdom of great importance even if it's military lacked in experience.
Lanyena allowed herself a sad smile at the thought of the army. She had been serving as a captain before the genocide in the northern lands of this very kingdom. So many troops were fresh, full of hope, and utterly doomed if war suddenly dropped out of the sky. In many ways it had when Sentona had gotten word that she was in Conkora. When he arrived at the outpost demanding for her life she was in for a large shock. Those very same troops who were scared of their own shadows forced food on her, made her leave out a secret pass and charged to their deaths against a man that was nearly as strong as his great father.
As she made her way to what looked to be a homestead in the mists it occured to her to keep her eyes on the lookout. Even in such a distant place she still feared capture and execution from what was left of Sentona's men, though most were already too old to do much in the way of combat. Never the less he may have some soldiers that were of the longer lived races which meant that she could never let her guard down for an instant.
The home she'd arrived at looked like any other this far out in the swamplands. Squat, made of bamboo wood and packed dirt with a roughly shingled oak bark roof. In front of the home was a wood chopping stump with an axe leaned casually against it. Up against the house itself a long shallow bottomed canoe was tied, for the owners to get around the wetlands with the least difficulty. The ground was bare, the possibility of grass growing in the well ordered patch of dirt nullified. Most swamp dwellers sprinkled salt in a certain radius of their homes, killing the plants and aiding in spotting deadly creatures like snakes and alligators from sneaking up on them. Halting at the door, Lanyena raised her hand and rapped gentley on the wall, trusting the sound to carry well enough without a firmer knock.
The person before him seemed a bit taken back by his question, and then an answer came as the woman's hands raised to show she was unarmed. "Peace brother dwarf. I mean no ill intent. I came only to ask if I may trouble you for some food in exchange for work done." She stepped back to avoid trying to look as if she were standing over him in a superior air. When Jasper only gave her a nod she continued to speak, elaborating. "I am traveling to the new desert and I've become weary. Also if it isn't much trouble I would ask directions of you to the nearest town where I can purchase a supply pack."
Her excuse sounded good, but something told Jasper to not look at her as just some city girl that'd gotten off on the wrong path. Still far be it from him to just turn a traveller away out of hand. She would really need to work for any of his hard earned meals, which could be a problem since what he could make out of her frame was that of the elegant ladies of the palaces, unused to even lifting a dainty hand to pour their own tea. So he stroked his beard thoughtfully and then let the terms be known. "Fine, but can you cook very well? I don't want a frail little lady like you breaking a hand pushing the canoe into the water."
"Yes, I can cook." She answered, her hands slipped back inside her cloak. To his suprise she didn't seemed the least bit offended by his light barb where as most women would be. It would make seeing this particuliar stranger's true colors if she was either so apathetic or hard to ruffle. Jasper nodded in satisfaction and then replied to her. "Good. It's been a long time since I had a quality, home cooked meal. I don't want to be let down young lady."
The woman nodded, "I will try not to good sir. How long would it take for me to earn directions pointing me towards the nearest town?" Her voice right then did carry the subtleness of offense. Jasper had to allow himself an inner grin. It seemed this lady wasn't completely without pride. He motioned for her to enter and once she'd stepped past him the dwarf shut the door. "The name's Jasper little lady, I've been living out in these swamps for a good while now. Now, what is your name?" For a moment it seemed like the stranger wasn't going to answer but apparently it seemed that he looked patient enough to wait her out for days the cloaked shoulders sagged a little bit and she answered. "I am Lanyena."
An absurd laugh found it's way past his lips as he ambled around her to the cooking hearth and knelt before it. Picking up two stones of flint he began to strike them together to ignite the dry grass he'd kept the hearth supplied with. "Lanyena you say? Rather strange name for just anyone. I heard that name only once before and that was on a list of Calopians that were guarding the Halls of Firnastak. Those orcs never looked so dismayed when they saw what they were going against." He chuckled now in a deeply humored way, recalling the way the orcs looked as if they'd soiled themselves as the platoon of twenty leapt into battle. "None of them orcs escaped either, completely wiped out."
"Yes.. they had managed to destory their only exit when they killed one of the Calopians.. a man named Estanderia was killed just as he was casting a fire spell. The resulting explosion collapsed their desired escape route. He was a good soldier." Lanyena said feebly, causing Jasper to spin as best he could in his kneeling position. Slowly he rose and then with wide eyes he tried to take her form in again, voice faint as if far away he spoke. "Remove your hood if you will Lanyena.. I need to believe what I'm hearing." Her hands slipped into view, and carefully pushed the hood back.
What was revealed was an elegant, fine boned face with the softness of the most soft of feminine features somehow coupled with a warrior's hardess. Her skin, a concrete grey enhanced the bright yellow eyes that vanished for a moment with a blink. The nose was pronounced, but snubbed at the end, almost like a kitten's. The ears were one and a half inches long, slightly pointed at the ends in a graceful arch. As otherworldly as the these things were it was the hair that marked her for what she was. Long, metallic gold hair that vanished further on down the black of the cloak. With each movement the strands moved with the languid consistancey of liquid metal.
"It's you.." The dwarf trailed off, growing pale. It was like the past had come back to life, and with it all the memories of the following month. Jasper stood up and swallowed though it felt like his throat had gone dry. "It's you.." He repeated, still not believing it. The dwarf's legs gave out, sending him to land flatly on his rear. The last time Jasper saw this particuliar Calopian it was burned into his memory forever. It was on that day he learned that fear could be felt even when watching trusted allies.
-
Fires burned, ignited on the coal rocks that had yet to be broken down into smaller pieces and removed from the battle field the main tunnel had transformed into. Among all the other warriors one woman caught a younger Jasper's attention from his hiding place in a side tunnel. She had just landed on an orc's shoulders from behind, suprising the creature. Obviously it didn't want to die as it dropped it's weapons and began to scream it's surrender. The Calopian merely laughed in extreme amusement, positioning her daggers on opposite sides of his throat and jerked her arms. Blood spattered bits of her face, and alot of it ran down on her shins. She landed on her feet as the body collapsed, and when she looked up there was no mistaking it, the deadly female was looking at him. With the fires about her it looked like her own hair had become an otherwordly halo of light. Jasper had never seen anything look quite so beautiful in all his life.
Or, so deadly.
