Chapter 32: Chapter 31

Heart hammering in her chest, Senses straining to take in everything, mind racing on the possibilities of what might come. And Filnon…just looking. 

 

“Come on, little kitten. Tell me you don’t want this” Filnon gestured to the bloodshed around her.

“What I want is to go home. This is just an unfortunate accident” Estaria commented. While she was still on edge, Filnon seemed to find hilarity and laughed, turning around to gesture to the dead Druchii.

“Opps, sorry dear. I slipped and killed three hundred and twelve men” Filnon exclaimed in a sarcastic tone, giggling some more. 

 

On the battlefield, a soldier did one of two things; they developed an ability to see more of a situation than their normal senses could tell them, or they died. At this moment, those senses were telling her that despite having her back turned and looking out to the dead Druchii, Filnon was as ready for her as when she had been staring. So Estaria didn’t move, and just waited. Her Luck was climbing and her Fatigue falling, so it was not all bad.

 

“The intention was to get them to treat me as a harmless, servile girl. And then when they took me aboard a ship to go raiding I could cut up half the crew and make the other half take me home. Then they got rude, so I sort of killed them all” Estaria explained, taking in a deep breath and then exhaling. 

 

“Understandable. So where do I fit in on this? Why are you trying to kill me?” Filnon asked, spinning on the spot to look at Estaria. 

“You are going to take me away to some place and keep me as a slave, no?” Estaria prompted, which elected a shrug from Filnon.

“I mean, yea. But, at the same time, are you staying here? Waiting for a wandering Necromancer to give you a cool Zombie Crew?” Filnon retorted.

 

It was actually a good point and Es paused for a moment before scowling.

“Obviously not, but I am not going to go give myself to some people like this” Estaria wildly gestured to the Main Hall with her sword, and then Filnon moved. Estaria thought she was graceful, but compared to Filnon, it was just the dance of a hippo with no legs. The gap was closed in an instant, and Es only had time to step back once before her sword was disarmed, she was tossed over Filnon’s hip, and then the woman flipped while Es was in mid-air, straddling her the instant she hit the ground.

 

“What about someone like me?” Filnon asked while Estaria tried to get her breath back from slamming into the ground. 

“Why…?” Estaria asked. She had more to that question but just couldn’t get it out. 

“It’s a weird old system, you know? The first Player I met got killed by me because they were an ugly little Rat-fink. So honestly I thought about killing you as well for even more of the good shit, but I saw you and it was nice. You started hating people yet?”

 

Filnon’s question froze Estaria’s rebuttal on her tongue and just stared at the woman. She had thought that it was just something she personally was struggling with. Traukon was such a jolly happy man for how leveled he was, so it had to just be some human thing. But, it wasn’t…

 

“Not-” she’d start, and then pause. She was about to say ‘not hate, exactly’ but then she remembered the thoughts she had of the Swordsmen and Marines in the Main Hall. That was far from nice, after all. “...Yes”

 

“Excellent!” Filnon exclaimed, leaning back on Estaria and nodding. “Was worried it was me for a moment. Druchii aren’t exactly our own friends at the best of times, so it took a while for me to realize I was even more not fans of these lot than usual. And then you come along and it’s like ‘huh, that’s the first person in a week I don’t want to just stab’ and I wasn’t ruining that for myself” 

 

Filnon liked the sound of her own voice it seemed, and just jabbered on inanely about the situation, before booping Estaria’s nose and standing up.

 

“So, if you wanna go into the tundra to get captured, killed, and eaten then I will not stop you. A waste of beauty though it is. However, if you come with me then I can promise to be better than these lot” Filnon offered, turning towards the gate.

 

“Hey” Estaria exclaimed, quickly standing up and turning to Filnon. “How long, are you waiting?” she asked. Even without the enarmouring hex, Filnon had a damned good point on her plan of ‘go wandering, try not to die’.

“Why, you got something to do?” Filnon asked in reply. 

“...” Estaria paused for a moment, and then looked out to a mass of bodies. She saw them earlier, and it was sad. Carroburg Greatswords, executed with a crossbow and left to rot. It was undignified to the extreme, for such hallowed warriors. “I want to bury them. The rest can rot, but Carroburg Greatswords deserve some respect” Es stated, looking around and finding a shovel used for digging latrines. 

 

“Ohh, you are adorable. I am absolutely keeping you~” Filnon exclaimed, a sentence she had heard from Elaine once before. Different connotations entirely, though…Still, it was not a refusal, so Estaria got to it, digging graves for them, so they could rest together with their brothers.

 

“It’s no Gardens of Morr, but here’s hoping he takes note anyway. Your deaths were pitiful and without even a struggle. You deserve that much” Estaria told them, looking up at the sky for a few moments, and then turning. As she got near Filnon, she thought she heard the cry of a Raven, but it was dark and they were black birds, so the chances of seeing it were basically nil, if it was here to begin with.

 

Exiting the small village, Filnon took them to a cart that she had parked. Big enough to hold a few hundred men, it was thick and tiered, with ladders going to the multiple stories. Four giant horses, twice as tall and twice as thick as anything Estaria had ever seen, pulled this monstrosity. Filnon pulled Estaria up onto the passenger seat with her, and then drove the horses on, to their destination.

 

“First thing’s first; You” Filnon exclaimed suddenly as they were on their way. “You have a choice now, to be a communal Slave or a private Slave” Filnon saw the look and nodded quickly. “I know, I know. You don’t want to be either. But that’s not one of the choices, unless you are interested in being disemboweled and hung with your own intestines. 

 

So a communal Slave serves everyone, has a specific task but can be set to other tasks if needed. A private Slave serves a person and can refuse tasks on the grounds of already undergoing one for their owner. Each has its pros and cons, but I will not force you into either”  Filnon finished, looking to Estaria.

 

It was strange, having a woman who basically asked If Es wanted to be her slave. But if the guys back then were any indication of what awaited communal slavery, then…

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“I’ll be yours” Estaria spoke, chill as the air around them. Filnon didn’t seem to notice or care, and just smiled warmly. 

“Excellent~ Would have been such a waste to send you off like that” Filnon would lean back with a smile, happy to have gotten what she wanted out of all this.

 

Ten minutes later however, she was not so happy, and nudged Estaria.

“It’s a two hour ride back to where we are going. That’s a long time for you to stay quiet. So speak. Tell me about yourself, doll” Filnon encouraged, nudging her a second time when Es stayed quiet.

 

She wasn’t a woman who talked about herself a lot. She didn’t feel it was a worthwhile topic, and didn’t want to burden Elaine with it. But here, she didn’t particularly care about Filnon’s thoughts, and it passed the time. So, she would begin to at the start.

 

“I was born in Altdorf, loving parents, decent enough house, idyllic lower-middle class upbringing. Then some Tilliean Swashbuckler  came along and enticed people with the idea of glory and riches. We tried to tell him not to go, but father was not a man who passed up an opportunity when it came along. So he headed out, telling us he would be back when the snow fell.

 

We were worried for him, and I prayed every day. To Sigmar, so he would return safely. To Morr, so he would not take my father. To Ranald, so he would have the luck to find money. I stopped to Ranald after the snow came and went, because I didn’t care about the money anymore. I just wanted him. I spent hours, I bothered priests, I begged the guards to let me see the Arch-Lector. Nothing worked. He stayed gone”

 

Estaria was unsure why she was sharing so much detail. She was just, in the thrall of the memories now, and they spilled out of her without bidding. 

 

“Mother worked hard to compensate, got ill from the overwork, and then worked hard some more. An accident caused the house to burn down while I was gone, praying to the Gods that they didn’t take my father. If I had been there, I could have helped her. Could have stopped her. But I didn’t, and instead I realized. The Gods don’t care if you aren’t of use to them. So at that moment I decided I would go make my end of use to the Gods, and when I was there in front of him, I could finally see my parents again. 

 

Joined the handgunners, always good with the childhood games of precision and aim. Bark of gunpowder and stench of sulfur felt good, . One engagement, it was me and some novice swordsboy down an alleyway. The Cultist downed him and ran for me, forgetting Handgunners have an Arming Sword for close quarters. I swung and cut him from hip to shoulder. It was horrific. 

 

A lead round through the skull, a hundred paces away is clean. Watching a mislead teenager choke to death on his own blood is…not. The Captain found me down that alleyway after the fight was over, hands shaking, tears streaming, just staring. Old Bastard knew exactly what was going on, so he took me away. 

 

Began training with the sword at his request. I would make sure the next time was clean. And then I got promoted to Sergeant. Diligence and Valor, they called it. Guns fired, swords swung, men were led. I could do it. I had a natural gift for it, the learned scholars called me a Savant and put me in command as a Captain. 

 

I was just, doing my job. Just a Handgunner, and now everyone relied on me. So I took it, and made sure everyone, from the cook to the Veterans, could kill a man cleanly and quickly. Nobody would have to see it again. I was supportive, close, and polite with the conscripts. People got to like me, and I got to know my men as people. I found a woman on the roads, driven out of her home in Bretonnia by raving bands, and we connected. Got close. I couldn’t just go and die now, I had people to protect. And my parents weren’t going anywhere, so I put my thoughts to living. And, forgot about the past. 

 

Fights, Love, and Gunpowder drowned out what happened, replacing it with sweet memories, sad memories, glorious memories. Maybe this was where I was always heading, to not die for Sigmar, but live for Sigmar. I didn’t much care for him regardless, though”

 

At the end of the long speech, Filnon would look to Estaria, who had a full on Thousand Yard Stare now. She had dredged up emotions and memories that she had pushed down, rejected and repressed. And when she pulled the plug, they all just exploded out of her in a stream. 

 

“Dam” Filnon spoke after a few minutes of silence. There was really no other word for all this. She’d just unloaded a whole wagon of shit at a light prompting. There were a few more minutes of silence as she sat, thinking of what to do. What to say. Eventually, she just went for it.

 

“I don’t like them” was the opening exclamation. It pulled Estaria out of her haze, and she looked over.

“What?” she asked, in a confused, not-quite-there tone.

“I thought since we were telling deep, heart-felt secrets, I’d tell you mine. Hate aside, I don’t like how Druchii society is. It’s easy to feel superior to other races when you are superior to other races, and that the great Truth of the world is that The Strong Rule. But who determines who is the Strong? Are you, for your great slaughter back there? Is a King, for his command of millions. Is a beggar, for his ability to survive with nothing but scorn and pity? 

 

We are too cruel. Too violent, too ready to kill each other, for this development of ours to have been natural. I feel someone has made us this way. And I hate being manipulated like that. I hate seeing my brothers and sisters die in fruitless wars, or schemes, assassinations, and executions. I want us to be coherent, a race that is together with each other. And, it seems there is someone just constantly goading every generation of Druchii into pointless, heartless cruelty for some reason I can not see. We are not born cruel, but made cruel by the very people around us.

 

I was born to it, raised in it, molded by it. But the society of today bores me. I am jaded towards the games they play, there is nothing for me in it anymore. I want more. I want feeling, and substance, and emotions I have never felt. I want to know if the so-called weaknesses all are warned against are so bad. So I have pushed. Fought every day, in arenas and Dungeons. I explore, I kill, I grow, till one day I have the power to sit in the Black Council, and tell Malekith we need to change”

 

Having got that off her chest, Filnon was silent for a few seconds, before adding in one last bit.

“And not die from doing so. He’s legendary for killing anyone who angers him, whoever that is. Whatever use they are to him or the whole nation”

 

It was an enlightening speech, gave Estaria a lot to think about. And so she did, all the way to the city. Filnon talked to the guard, explained the situation with no slaves, insulted him after he got angry, and then headed inside. It was a quite the city, heaving with manacled slaves and well dressed Druchii going about their daily business. Slaves dangled in gibbets, gallows, and objects for which she had no name. It really set itself apart from the port she had just come from. Unconsciously shuffling closer to Filnon to be protected from these monsters, she just sat, and waited. If she didn’t make a sound, people wouldn’t notice her.

 

The cart was dropped off, Filnon got into a second argument about keeping Estaria because she was cute and I want her. It affected Estaria more than it probably should have to be called cute. But she shook that off as just being unstable with the welcome mat and her deluge of emotion getting here. Filnon was very explicitly avoiding all that and hadn’t said anything about it at all and Es felt like she had misstepped already. She felt very awkward as Filnon finished with the man and took Es back to her house. 

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