Chapter 1: Meetings and new beginnings in Shaddamite
Gulls, screamed in hunger; high pitched and shrill, painful and discordant, the harsh cries mingling with the steady thunk, thunk, thunk of murky green sea splashing lightly against a hollow wooden hull. A short, sharp bark of laughter carried on the wind, traveling over the deck ,waking the Enchantress from her slumber. For a moment she couldn't recall where she was. Swiftly, calling her magic from deep inside herself, she cradled it tightly in her chest, ready to release it in a powerful wave of light and heat. Then she heard the Sea Hawk's powerful voice call out and she relaxed. She was on a ship, today was the day they disembarked in Shaddamite to join the rebellion there and bring freedom to the people of Etheria.
Rising languorously from the fur mat in her makeshift quarters , her long, luxurious, mahogany hair fell across her dark eyes, as the ship gently rocked beneath her; she blew it in annoyance. Moaning in protest as she banished the last dregs of sleep from her mind, long graceful fingers pushed it back over her head, her entire body stretching as she did so, her back arcing with feline grace as slender arms reached over her head. Throwing back her neck, she let out a lusty yawn, reveling in the sensation of sleep fleeing her body in a fluttering wash of laziness.
Reaching beneath her mat and pulling out a brush she began the arduous task of taming the unruly assortment of silken tresses. Grabbing a handful of hairpins she pulled the bulk of the mass atop her head in a tight bun, accentuating her patrician cheekbones, her hair was so thick, two feet still fell in a gentle cascade down her back. Standing, she began pulling on a pair of gold-boots, she straightened her collar and hoping she looked presentable, stepped out of the small tent into the bright sunlight streaming through marshmellow cumulus.
"Hard to port men, keep her steady;" the captain shouted, "Sven, keep an eye out for Horde ships while we're gone." Castaspella braced herself as the ship lurched and turned about, her eyes fell upon the commanding presence of the captain. He was a handsome man, dark and rugged, his skin burnished by the loving kiss of sun and sea, his mouth had a full rakish tilt and his eyes a wicked sparkle. It was easy to see why women were so attracted to him. He had a lust for life rare on Etheria. She understood why two of her dearest friends had fallen for him. Sadly, only one won him. She swayed lightly as the ship righted itself and the anchor dropped.
"Furl the sails, keep your eyes peeled." The captain called, he turned, saw her standing there and smiled, waving her over to his side. Castaspella gritted her teeth. The only thing that irked her about this man was his imperious attitude as if he was in charge of everyone and everything. She assumed it came with the territory of being a captain. She of all people understood command. Sedately she moved to his side.
"Good morning captain." She sang softly in her gentle voice. He grinned, baring a perfect row of white teeth, Casta grimaced inwardly, why couldn't he at least have the crooked teeth and fetid breath one might expect of a pirate? A moment later she mentally kicked herself at that spiteful thought.
"Good morning m'lady, are your people ready to meet the freedom fighters of Shaddamite?"
"Aye- I mean yes captain." She blushed as he threw back his head in amusement a long deep chuckle issuing from his wide muscular chest.
"Ah, lass, not even with us a full cycle of the moon and already ye talk like a seasoned sea-man!"
"Eeey-yaah!" A playful scream carried across the ship as a diminutive red head ran bare-foot full tilt across the deck, a pair of doeskin capri's clinging to her long slender legs and a tight white blouse with puffy sleeves atop her torso, her navel peeking playfully through. Leaping lightly into the Sea Hawks arms she wrapped her legs around his waist and they shared a deep but brief kiss of passion. Casta, glanced away, uncomfortable, not merely with the display of easy affection between the two but with the small lump of envy and pang of loneliness it brought about inside herself.
Ariel, once her apprentice, now the bride of Sea Hawk, grinned cheekily at her. She slid down from the embrace of her love to stand beside her former mistress, gazing at the dark coastline dotted with dark pines and white sands.
"Ya know if we were to sail a few more miles and round that bit of land over there we could follow the Malinger river to the Inner Sea." Ariel's voice was tinged with yearning and enthusiasm. "You should see it Casta, its beautiful, canyons rise up, stark and barren and pocked with caves and streaks of colorful earth- you may see it anyway, the Freedom fighters hide there, if they accept you into their ranks you'll definitely be making them your new home." Ariel's voice was filled with suppressed excitement.
Casta glanced down at her former protégé. Ariel had been stuck on this ship longer than her and Castaspella could tell by the look in her eyes she was itching to feel solid land beneath her feet again. She turned from the girls youthful exuberance, shielding her eyes against the sun, a warm breeze lightly blowing her hair over her shoulders, errant tendrils brushing over her face. Her people were massing on the deck, eager to make landfall as well. The Sea Hawk and his men were readying the life boats for release.
"Casta," the Sea Hawk called out, "get your people ready." She turned brusquely, walking to the head of the crowd.
"Alright people this is it. We've made it, be sure you leave nothing behind then maintain order and obey the sailors as they load you into the life boats." A tall and pale man with cerulean hair and a fan of peacock feathers spread behind him came over to her. His loin cloth barely concealing what God gave him, he was well muscled, not an ounce of fat but slender almost dainty, his eyes held a faraway look in them.
"What is it Jornin?" She questioned.
"We are being watched," a long finger pointed at the tree-line on the beach, "there are around fifty men and women, all armed, waiting and watching us." Castaspella nodded.
"It's all right, those are freedom fighters, Sea Hawk said they'd be waiting for us."
She watched as her people were loaded into the longboats. Most of them were rebels from Drile, three or four of them had come from Devlin and some were her own people from the royal guard at Mystacor. She missed her friends Angella and Adora and Netossa and even Madame Raz. But they were all the way on the other side of Etheria and Adora was on the opposite side of the war. Castaspella shivered. She was really all alone in this.
Her people loaded, Castaspella and Ariel climbed down into Sea Hawk's boat and he rowed them ashore. As they neared the beach Castaspella concentrated on home…
Her consciousness seemed to move over the planet like an eel through water. She saw her city and her people moving with an air of grim purpose and heightened expectation. She moved through the halls of knowledge to a pedastal where sat the Book of Secrets wherein she commanded Netossa to keep a written and detailed account of what was happening. As her spiritual eyes perused the crisp pages she seemed to lose her sense of reality, she lost realization of the fact she was not actually in Mystacor, she forgot the boat and sea and Shaddamite.
It seemed Netossa was mobilizing the troops, Onyx had moved her forces against Thaymoore. The village was razed to the ground and the dirt salted in vengeance for what the Horde was terming their "betrayal". When Onyx and her troops marched into Thaymoor they found it deserted; bereft of people, livestock, stores of grain, and the well, tainted. Her forces were moving on Glendale, the last free city outside of Brightmoons borders. Angella had her people moving as well, freeing the tormented, staked to the roads like carrion fodder, Glimmers's cell was attacking the Horde from the woods and Spikeheart, making nightly raids on Onyx's army, and sporadic forays into the fright zone. Bow was leading his contingent in a raid on Scorpion hill where a squadron of Horde fliers were kept in an underground hanger. The place was not heavily guarded and the fliers would bring a much needed technological boost to the rebellion….
With a jolt, Castaspella was wrenched from her thoughts as the boat landed jarringly on the shore. Blinking owlishly and looking to the beach she beheld a strikingly beautiful man glaring down on her with disdain. Her jaw dropped as her eyes feasted on his beauty. He was a Cimmerian, like Netossa, but a shade lighter- well over six feet, he had dark ebony eyes, deep and pure, lit with a fire of raging intensity, his skin, a rich creamy brown, those arms were bulging with biceps and triceps, as thick around as her waist, covered in some kind of metallic, gleaming, gauntlets and gloves stretching from the tops of his broad shoulders to the tips of his long, slender fingers; his neck was strong and thick like a young tree. And praise the gods, his legs and thighs were ribbons of elegant muscle.
Goddess! Here indeed was a man!
His chest, broad and highly defined, rippling with hard pectoral and torso muscles; dark chalcedony hair, long and shimmering, hung in black braids down his back, to his shoulder blades.
His hands were huge. Garbed in a rich blue and gold breastplate made of Cordamite and Lapis with a midnight blue cape, he oozed masculine strength and power and when he moved the cape shone, due to gold silk sewn throughout, in shimmering streaks of brilliance, glimmering in the sun. His leggings were a matching azure hue. A large gold medallion hung from the center of his chest where she knew his heart beat strong and sure proclaiming his allegiance. On the medallion a large hammer was crushing a bat into an anvil. With a great deal of effort the Enchantress of Mystacor managed to stop gawking long enough to stand and step out of the boat.
"Castaspella," Sea Hawk said, gesturing to the large god-of-a-man on the shore, "meet Anvil Just, leader of Shaddamite's freedom fighters."
"A pleasure, sir Just." She breathed. He snorted.
"Hawk," he grunted, never taking his eyes off Castaspella, "how is this runt of a woman going to help me and my people?"
Casta, felt her cheeks heat in fiery indignation. Refusing to address her was a clear sign of disrespect, it didn't help matters either that the deep timbre of his voice sent waves of hot and cold chills running up and down her spine to settle in a languid pool of heat in her belly. Straightening her back, her chin tilting up a notch, she locked her sienna eyes on his obsidian orbs, her very bearing demanding his attention. He obliged, looking her up and down and not in a manner befitting a comrade in arms; more like a man who looks at a woman and decides he likes what he sees. While flattered Castaspella knew she had to show him right now she was no bit of fluff.
Stepping towards him, she rested her palm over his heart. Concentrating she let her power flow from her palm into his chest, her gold cape billowing in the warm sea breeze, she felt his body stiffen; not in pain, rather he was simply feeling the currents of power surrounding her, flowing from the earth and sky and into her body out of her palm and into his. He now knew without a doubt he was in the presence of a powerful woman. She drew back her hand.
"I am Castaspella, Queen of Mystacor, child of light and champion of Freedom. I serve the first ones, I serve the people. I have come to do you aid and help free the people's of Shaddamite." He looked at her from hooded midnight depths, his armor plated hand rubbing his chest where she touched him.
"No shit."
Ariel giggled, "Hey Anvil, what's up, any new adventure's lately?" Turning his dark regard to the bubbly girl his face instantly transformed. Castaspella felt her heart thump quickly as he smiled down at Sea Hawk's woman, ruffling her hair with his hand, his eyes were soft, dark velvet.
"Just the usual ass kicking I do, nothing particularly new and exciting Red." Castaspella found herself wishing he'd look at her like that. But he didn't. As a matter of fact he did not look at her again the next couple hours. He talked with the Sea Hawk, it seemed the two had known each other for a long time. Anvil's people came out of the trees at a signal from him and began helping her people organize as well as unload supplies the Hawk had brought them.
Castaspella found herself a little lost, feeling slightly alone and left out. There was really nothing for her to do. Sighing she decided to take advantage of the lull and finish checking on her home. She sat in the sand, crossing her legs and focused her power and desire on a single thought. Mystacor. With a jolt she was there…
Watching as the gates of her fair city were opened and people, homeless, helpless and lost, confused, angry, afraid and dispossessed, milled there way into Mystaco;, these were the refugees' from Thaymoore, Strathmoore and Glendale. The old and young alike, all had that dazed, empty expression in their eyes, as if wishing for home, unaware it was now gone forever. How her heart ached at seeing such pain in her city, in the faces of her people, she yearned to be there for them, to bring them comfort, at the same time a larger part of her delighted in the prospect of the unknown adventure awaiting her in a strange land…
"Hey, you! Spell woman!" With a hard yank, Castaspella felt herself jerked to her feet, her eyes cleared, an unidentified wetness on her cheeks; focusing on the unhappy, cranky visage of her new ally she tried clearing her mind, finding it harder than it should have been.
Where was she? Her people needed her but she was not in Mystacor, she was in Shaddamite.
"Damn, woman, you're not going to be any help to me if you keep falling asleep in the sand like that. Next time I'll just leave your skinny runt self behind!" She flushed a bright red, he had her pulled atop him in a very intimate way, in jerking her up she simply fell limply against his chest and now she lay there gazing into his eyes and- He thought she was skinny! With a gasp she pulled away from him.
"How dare you!" She hissed, "I was not asleep I was checking on my home!" He grunted, casually dismissing her ire, "yeah lady, we all dream of home, but around here, it's not safe to fall asleep wherever you want. Let's go." He started walking. As he did so the wind blew aside his cape and for an instant she got a tantalizing glimpse of his glutes, flexing as he walked. She grew warm, before shaking herself and starting after him.
"I was not sleeping-"
"Sure lady, sure." He interrupted, not stopping.
"I wasn't," she persisted, matching him stride for stride. She watched him look at her out of the corner of his eyes and took heart. "I told you I am the queen of Mystacor, I have cast a linking spell to my land so that I can see and know what is going on there." He stopped, bringing her up short. She stopped as well. He turned to face her. She stepped back at the anger evident in his face.
"Look lady, I could care less about who you are and where you come from, you're a runt; yeah you have a power about you, but I don't intend to like you, I don't intend to get to know you, I've seen too many little girls like you join us and die to even have the desire to know you. Your too pretty for a war and you never should have come out here. Titles don't impress me, tricks, don't impress me, if you wanna impress me then you show me how useful you can be against the Horde. Until then don't expect too much, your bound to be disappointed." With that little spiel he turned and stormed off.
She found herself slightly taken aback by the rudeness of the man. Jornin and Eliliana, the pair of peacock people accompanying her to Shaddamite moved to flank her along with the three guards from Mystacor.
"Majesty," one of her guards offered, "do not be offended, I have spoken to his people, this man is said to be a fair leader, he lives up to his name." Castaspella nodded.
"Anvil Just." She mused aloud, then she turned her regard to her soldiers, "I am not offended, the man has given me a glimpse into his soul. He feels responsible for his people. I understand that. I feel the same way. He does not want to lose any of them defending us until we can prove our worth." She shrugged lightly, "well, we shall just have to do that." She walked onward putting a bright face on things. All the while smarting inside at being referred to as a runt. She may be a runt in his eyes but he was a pig in hers! A beautiful and breathtaking pig. She smiled inwardly at the thought before hurrying to catch up, her small entourage following. It wasn't until much later she recalled he said she was pretty.
Gulls, screamed in hunger; high pitched and shrill, painful and discordant, the harsh cries mingling with the steady thunk, thunk, thunk of murky green sea splashing lightly against a hollow wooden hull. A short, sharp bark of laughter carried on the wind, traveling over the deck ,waking the Enchantress from her slumber. For a moment she couldn't recall where she was. Swiftly, calling her magic from deep inside herself, she cradled it tightly in her chest, ready to release it in a powerful wave of light and heat. Then she heard the Sea Hawk's powerful voice call out and she relaxed. She was on a ship, today was the day they disembarked in Shaddamite to join the rebellion there and bring freedom to the people of Etheria.
Rising languorously from the fur mat in her makeshift quarters , her long, luxurious, mahogany hair fell across her dark eyes, as the ship gently rocked beneath her; she blew it in annoyance. Moaning in protest as she banished the last dregs of sleep from her mind, long graceful fingers pushed it back over her head, her entire body stretching as she did so, her back arcing with feline grace as slender arms reached over her head. Throwing back her neck, she let out a lusty yawn, reveling in the sensation of sleep fleeing her body in a fluttering wash of laziness.
Reaching beneath her mat and pulling out a brush she began the arduous task of taming the unruly assortment of silken tresses. Grabbing a handful of hairpins she pulled the bulk of the mass atop her head in a tight bun, accentuating her patrician cheekbones, her hair was so thick, two feet still fell in a gentle cascade down her back. Standing, she began pulling on a pair of gold-boots, she straightened her collar and hoping she looked presentable, stepped out of the small tent into the bright sunlight streaming through marshmellow cumulus.
"Hard to port men, keep her steady;" the captain shouted, "Sven, keep an eye out for Horde ships while we're gone." Castaspella braced herself as the ship lurched and turned about, her eyes fell upon the commanding presence of the captain. He was a handsome man, dark and rugged, his skin burnished by the loving kiss of sun and sea, his mouth had a full rakish tilt and his eyes a wicked sparkle. It was easy to see why women were so attracted to him. He had a lust for life rare on Etheria. She understood why two of her dearest friends had fallen for him. Sadly, only one won him. She swayed lightly as the ship righted itself and the anchor dropped.
"Furl the sails, keep your eyes peeled." The captain called, he turned, saw her standing there and smiled, waving her over to his side. Castaspella gritted her teeth. The only thing that irked her about this man was his imperious attitude as if he was in charge of everyone and everything. She assumed it came with the territory of being a captain. She of all people understood command. Sedately she moved to his side.
"Good morning captain." She sang softly in her gentle voice. He grinned, baring a perfect row of white teeth, Casta grimaced inwardly, why couldn't he at least have the crooked teeth and fetid breath one might expect of a pirate? A moment later she mentally kicked herself at that spiteful thought.
"Good morning m'lady, are your people ready to meet the freedom fighters of Shaddamite?"
"Aye- I mean yes captain." She blushed as he threw back his head in amusement a long deep chuckle issuing from his wide muscular chest.
"Ah, lass, not even with us a full cycle of the moon and already ye talk like a seasoned sea-man!"
"Eeey-yaah!" A playful scream carried across the ship as a diminutive red head ran bare-foot full tilt across the deck, a pair of doeskin capri's clinging to her long slender legs and a tight white blouse with puffy sleeves atop her torso, her navel peeking playfully through. Leaping lightly into the Sea Hawks arms she wrapped her legs around his waist and they shared a deep but brief kiss of passion. Casta, glanced away, uncomfortable, not merely with the display of easy affection between the two but with the small lump of envy and pang of loneliness it brought about inside herself.
Ariel, once her apprentice, now the bride of Sea Hawk, grinned cheekily at her. She slid down from the embrace of her love to stand beside her former mistress, gazing at the dark coastline dotted with dark pines and white sands.
"Ya know if we were to sail a few more miles and round that bit of land over there we could follow the Malinger river to the Inner Sea." Ariel's voice was tinged with yearning and enthusiasm. "You should see it Casta, its beautiful, canyons rise up, stark and barren and pocked with caves and streaks of colorful earth- you may see it anyway, the Freedom fighters hide there, if they accept you into their ranks you'll definitely be making them your new home." Ariel's voice was filled with suppressed excitement.
Casta glanced down at her former protégé. Ariel had been stuck on this ship longer than her and Castaspella could tell by the look in her eyes she was itching to feel solid land beneath her feet again. She turned from the girls youthful exuberance, shielding her eyes against the sun, a warm breeze lightly blowing her hair over her shoulders, errant tendrils brushing over her face. Her people were massing on the deck, eager to make landfall as well. The Sea Hawk and his men were readying the life boats for release.
"Casta," the Sea Hawk called out, "get your people ready." She turned brusquely, walking to the head of the crowd.
"Alright people this is it. We've made it, be sure you leave nothing behind then maintain order and obey the sailors as they load you into the life boats." A tall and pale man with cerulean hair and a fan of peacock feathers spread behind him came over to her. His loin cloth barely concealing what God gave him, he was well muscled, not an ounce of fat but slender almost dainty, his eyes held a faraway look in them.
"What is it Jornin?" She questioned.
"We are being watched," a long finger pointed at the tree-line on the beach, "there are around fifty men and women, all armed, waiting and watching us." Castaspella nodded.
"It's all right, those are freedom fighters, Sea Hawk said they'd be waiting for us."
She watched as her people were loaded into the longboats. Most of them were rebels from Drile, three or four of them had come from Devlin and some were her own people from the royal guard at Mystacor. She missed her friends Angella and Adora and Netossa and even Madame Raz. But they were all the way on the other side of Etheria and Adora was on the opposite side of the war. Castaspella shivered. She was really all alone in this.
Her people loaded, Castaspella and Ariel climbed down into Sea Hawk's boat and he rowed them ashore. As they neared the beach Castaspella concentrated on home…
Her consciousness seemed to move over the planet like an eel through water. She saw her city and her people moving with an air of grim purpose and heightened expectation. She moved through the halls of knowledge to a pedastal where sat the Book of Secrets wherein she commanded Netossa to keep a written and detailed account of what was happening. As her spiritual eyes perused the crisp pages she seemed to lose her sense of reality, she lost realization of the fact she was not actually in Mystacor, she forgot the boat and sea and Shaddamite.
It seemed Netossa was mobilizing the troops, Onyx had moved her forces against Thaymoore. The village was razed to the ground and the dirt salted in vengeance for what the Horde was terming their "betrayal". When Onyx and her troops marched into Thaymoor they found it deserted; bereft of people, livestock, stores of grain, and the well, tainted. Her forces were moving on Glendale, the last free city outside of Brightmoons borders. Angella had her people moving as well, freeing the tormented, staked to the roads like carrion fodder, Glimmers's cell was attacking the Horde from the woods and Spikeheart, making nightly raids on Onyx's army, and sporadic forays into the fright zone. Bow was leading his contingent in a raid on Scorpion hill where a squadron of Horde fliers were kept in an underground hanger. The place was not heavily guarded and the fliers would bring a much needed technological boost to the rebellion….
With a jolt, Castaspella was wrenched from her thoughts as the boat landed jarringly on the shore. Blinking owlishly and looking to the beach she beheld a strikingly beautiful man glaring down on her with disdain. Her jaw dropped as her eyes feasted on his beauty. He was a Cimmerian, like Netossa, but a shade lighter- well over six feet, he had dark ebony eyes, deep and pure, lit with a fire of raging intensity, his skin, a rich creamy brown, those arms were bulging with biceps and triceps, as thick around as her waist, covered in some kind of metallic, gleaming, gauntlets and gloves stretching from the tops of his broad shoulders to the tips of his long, slender fingers; his neck was strong and thick like a young tree. And praise the gods, his legs and thighs were ribbons of elegant muscle.
Goddess! Here indeed was a man!
His chest, broad and highly defined, rippling with hard pectoral and torso muscles; dark chalcedony hair, long and shimmering, hung in black braids down his back, to his shoulder blades.
His hands were huge. Garbed in a rich blue and gold breastplate made of Cordamite and Lapis with a midnight blue cape, he oozed masculine strength and power and when he moved the cape shone, due to gold silk sewn throughout, in shimmering streaks of brilliance, glimmering in the sun. His leggings were a matching azure hue. A large gold medallion hung from the center of his chest where she knew his heart beat strong and sure proclaiming his allegiance. On the medallion a large hammer was crushing a bat into an anvil. With a great deal of effort the Enchantress of Mystacor managed to stop gawking long enough to stand and step out of the boat.
"Castaspella," Sea Hawk said, gesturing to the large god-of-a-man on the shore, "meet Anvil Just, leader of Shaddamite's freedom fighters."
"A pleasure, sir Just." She breathed. He snorted.
"Hawk," he grunted, never taking his eyes off Castaspella, "how is this runt of a woman going to help me and my people?"
Casta, felt her cheeks heat in fiery indignation. Refusing to address her was a clear sign of disrespect, it didn't help matters either that the deep timbre of his voice sent waves of hot and cold chills running up and down her spine to settle in a languid pool of heat in her belly. Straightening her back, her chin tilting up a notch, she locked her sienna eyes on his obsidian orbs, her very bearing demanding his attention. He obliged, looking her up and down and not in a manner befitting a comrade in arms; more like a man who looks at a woman and decides he likes what he sees. While flattered Castaspella knew she had to show him right now she was no bit of fluff.
Stepping towards him, she rested her palm over his heart. Concentrating she let her power flow from her palm into his chest, her gold cape billowing in the warm sea breeze, she felt his body stiffen; not in pain, rather he was simply feeling the currents of power surrounding her, flowing from the earth and sky and into her body out of her palm and into his. He now knew without a doubt he was in the presence of a powerful woman. She drew back her hand.
"I am Castaspella, Queen of Mystacor, child of light and champion of Freedom. I serve the first ones, I serve the people. I have come to do you aid and help free the people's of Shaddamite." He looked at her from hooded midnight depths, his armor plated hand rubbing his chest where she touched him.
"No shit."
Ariel giggled, "Hey Anvil, what's up, any new adventure's lately?" Turning his dark regard to the bubbly girl his face instantly transformed. Castaspella felt her heart thump quickly as he smiled down at Sea Hawk's woman, ruffling her hair with his hand, his eyes were soft, dark velvet.
"Just the usual ass kicking I do, nothing particularly new and exciting Red." Castaspella found herself wishing he'd look at her like that. But he didn't. As a matter of fact he did not look at her again the next couple hours. He talked with the Sea Hawk, it seemed the two had known each other for a long time. Anvil's people came out of the trees at a signal from him and began helping her people organize as well as unload supplies the Hawk had brought them.
Castaspella found herself a little lost, feeling slightly alone and left out. There was really nothing for her to do. Sighing she decided to take advantage of the lull and finish checking on her home. She sat in the sand, crossing her legs and focused her power and desire on a single thought. Mystacor. With a jolt she was there…
Watching as the gates of her fair city were opened and people, homeless, helpless and lost, confused, angry, afraid and dispossessed, milled there way into Mystaco;, these were the refugees' from Thaymoore, Strathmoore and Glendale. The old and young alike, all had that dazed, empty expression in their eyes, as if wishing for home, unaware it was now gone forever. How her heart ached at seeing such pain in her city, in the faces of her people, she yearned to be there for them, to bring them comfort, at the same time a larger part of her delighted in the prospect of the unknown adventure awaiting her in a strange land…
"Hey, you! Spell woman!" With a hard yank, Castaspella felt herself jerked to her feet, her eyes cleared, an unidentified wetness on her cheeks; focusing on the unhappy, cranky visage of her new ally she tried clearing her mind, finding it harder than it should have been.
Where was she? Her people needed her but she was not in Mystacor, she was in Shaddamite.
"Damn, woman, you're not going to be any help to me if you keep falling asleep in the sand like that. Next time I'll just leave your skinny runt self behind!" She flushed a bright red, he had her pulled atop him in a very intimate way, in jerking her up she simply fell limply against his chest and now she lay there gazing into his eyes and- He thought she was skinny! With a gasp she pulled away from him.
"How dare you!" She hissed, "I was not asleep I was checking on my home!" He grunted, casually dismissing her ire, "yeah lady, we all dream of home, but around here, it's not safe to fall asleep wherever you want. Let's go." He started walking. As he did so the wind blew aside his cape and for an instant she got a tantalizing glimpse of his glutes, flexing as he walked. She grew warm, before shaking herself and starting after him.
"I was not sleeping-"
"Sure lady, sure." He interrupted, not stopping.
"I wasn't," she persisted, matching him stride for stride. She watched him look at her out of the corner of his eyes and took heart. "I told you I am the queen of Mystacor, I have cast a linking spell to my land so that I can see and know what is going on there." He stopped, bringing her up short. She stopped as well. He turned to face her. She stepped back at the anger evident in his face.
"Look lady, I could care less about who you are and where you come from, you're a runt; yeah you have a power about you, but I don't intend to like you, I don't intend to get to know you, I've seen too many little girls like you join us and die to even have the desire to know you. Your too pretty for a war and you never should have come out here. Titles don't impress me, tricks, don't impress me, if you wanna impress me then you show me how useful you can be against the Horde. Until then don't expect too much, your bound to be disappointed." With that little spiel he turned and stormed off.
She found herself slightly taken aback by the rudeness of the man. Jornin and Eliliana, the pair of peacock people accompanying her to Shaddamite moved to flank her along with the three guards from Mystacor.
"Majesty," one of her guards offered, "do not be offended, I have spoken to his people, this man is said to be a fair leader, he lives up to his name." Castaspella nodded.
"Anvil Just." She mused aloud, then she turned her regard to her soldiers, "I am not offended, the man has given me a glimpse into his soul. He feels responsible for his people. I understand that. I feel the same way. He does not want to lose any of them defending us until we can prove our worth." She shrugged lightly, "well, we shall just have to do that." She walked onward putting a bright face on things. All the while smarting inside at being referred to as a runt. She may be a runt in his eyes but he was a pig in hers! A beautiful and breathtaking pig. She smiled inwardly at the thought before hurrying to catch up, her small entourage following. It wasn't until much later she recalled he said she was pretty.