The human kingdom of Carrothon had long worried over its northern frontier. Separated from the heartland by the rough hill country of Bareath, the rich northern valleys with their prosperous farmlands and rich villages and towns were hideously vulnerable to raids by brigands, marauding orc warbands and, worse of all, drow slavers. Over the decades, King after King had spent lavish sums of gold building a chain of fortresses and watchtowers along the frontier to protect their lands, an imposing chain of impregnable strongholds, but even the toughest of defenses had weak points.
Kaitaan crouched in the darkness, taking advantage of the cover of some underbrush and peered up at the tower. It was a cold, late Autumn night lit only by faint starlight. Even considering that, she’d gotten far closer then she’d expected, the garrison of this tower was either lazy, complacent or far more understrength then they had guessed. A proper garrison wouldn’t have let the woods and underbrush grow so glow to the outer walls. As it was, one quick dash and she’d be there before the watchman could spot her and sound the alarm.
The tower was one of the smaller points in the line of frontier fortifications. It wasn’t meant to withstand a siege, merely to cover a blindspot between two larger fortresses. Its defenses were only strong enough for the small garrison to hold out until their signal fire brought reinforcements from the neighboring fortress. The main defense was the tower itself, fifty feet tall with walls of stone, crenulated at the top. Attached on to one side was a stockade with a timber palisade. It was a mere fifteen feet high, surrounded by a dry moat, overgrown and partly fallen in by years of wind, rain and neglect.
Kaitaan knew, if this watchtower followed the standard plans their spies had stolen months before, inside the stockade would be a timber barracks for the garrison, about 15 or 20 men on average, a small stable for messenger riders and a well. In the tower itself, the cellar would hold stores and a cistern to allow them to withstand a prolonged blockade. The ground floor had the garrison’s kitchen and mess. Directly above were the quarters of the officers, then above them the armory. The highest floor was the fighting position with arrow loops and small ballista. On the roof of the tower was the watch post and the signal fire.
This last floor was manned at the moment. With her keen drow eyes, Kaitaan caught sight of a pale face glancing through the crenulations from time to time. Down below, another figure patrolled the walls, features obscured beneath an iron cap above and a thick scarf wrapped up to the nose against the night’s chill. Sloppy or not, the garrison wouldn’t make things easy for Kaitaan.
The Drow raider was dressed in loose spider silk tunic and pants, dyed a dark purple to blend into the shadows. Her pale silver hair, worn long and spiked on one side and cropped opposite, was hidden beneath a dark purple hood. She silently thanks the Goddess it hadn’t snowed yet or else she would have stuck out like an ink spot on paper even in the dim twilight.
Slung over the Drow’s shoulder was a cloth bag containing her tools, chief among which were dozens of compact coils of strong but lightweight spider silk rope. At her waist was belted a sword, the short, broad-bladed gladius favored by the drow in the cramped spaces tunnel fighting often took place in. It would be less useful against the surface dwellers and their longswords, not that Kaitaan intended to get in a straight fight if she could avoid it. Of more use would be the small pouch opposite the sword which held several charged spellstones.
On the palisade wall, the patrolling guard reached the end of their route and turned, marching away from Kaitaan. At the same time, the watchers up in the tower turned away from that side as well. This was her best opportunity. Kaitaan leapt up, taking care not to rustle the underbrush she hid behind as she ran out into the clearing and sprinted for the walls. She’d already picked out a spot where the far side of the moat had collapsed in and been overgrown by grass, making for a steep, but easily traversable path across the moat and to the walls.
The drow paused, crouched in the shadows at the base of the palisade. She crooked one long, pointed ear up towards the parapet, listening. From the steady tread of boots on wood, the guard patrolling the walls had doubled back once more, heading towards her. Kaitaan waited, digging into her pack for a small metal grapnel and one of her lengths of rope which she tied to it. When Kaitaan was sure the guard had turned about again, Kaitaan stood, taking a step back, and gently tossed the grapnel over the top of the wall. A quick tug confirmed the hook had caught fast, then she took the rope in both hands and nimblely scrambled up and over onto the walkway.
She turned, seeing the retreating back of the guard. The drow drew her sword and crept up behind the figure. When she got close enough, she leapt forward and struck. One hand went around to clamp over the guard’s mouth while the other brought the heavy round pommel of the sword down on the guard’s head, just below the rim of the helmet. The guard gave a muffled “oof!” which was muffled by the gloved hand and the scarf over their mouth. Still, Kaitaan noted the grunt was of a higher pitch than expected.
As she gently lowered the unconscious guard to the ground, careful not to let the spear slip free of limp hands and clatter down, Kaitaan noted with some surprise the guard she had knocked out was a young human girl, about 18 or 19 summers if she judged the age right. Her long, straw-blonde hair was tucked up under the helmet and the thick, padded gambeson she wore hid her curves, but looking at the face of the human she was undoubtedly female.
“They must be very short of soldiers if they’re garrisoning a watchtower like this with women.” Kaitaan thought, though as always the male dominated human societies’ way of doing things struck her as odd. Carrothon was at war with its neighbors to the south, a fairly common state of affairs, but in this case they were evidently not doing so well, bad enough they needed every available man under arms to fight on the front lines, leaving small outposts like this to be manned by a militia of women.
After a quick glance at the top of the tower to make sure she hadn’t been spotted, Kaitaan dragged her captive into a dark spot along the parapet, then set to work securing her. The scarf from around her neck, knotted in the center, made for an excellent gag. Using her spear as a pole and the rope from the grapnel, Kaitaan lashed the girls’ arms and legs to the wooden shaft. She positioned her captive with the bonds towards the wall, out of sight. With luck anyone who glanced at the palisade and saw her would merely assume she’d fallen asleep at her post.
Leaving the unconscious girl to come to, Kaitaan silently dropped the ten feet or so from the wall to the inside of the stockade. At the moment, save for the watchmen up on the tower and a couple lights glowing from inside the floors below, the rest of the outpost was dark and quiet. Kaitaan spotted a long building ahead of her she took to be the barracks and made for it, giving a wide berth to the smaller outbuilding which, from the smell, was the stables, lest the horses whinnying wake the garrison.
Kaitaan checked the door to the barracks and found it unlocked. From her back, she drew out a small vial of oil and applied it to the hinges, so no untimely squeak alerted those inside as she opened the door and slipped through. The barracks consisted of a single long, narrow room with two rows of narrow wooden beds on either side of the door. Each had a small wooden chest at the foot and a stand beside which had weapons and armor ready. About half the beds, eight in total, were occupied by a sleeping soldier.
Kaitaan dug into the pouch of spellstones and, feeling the sigils carved into them, pulled out the right one. Holding it in her hand, she crept up to the first occupied bed and leaned over the soldier lying atop it. Like the unlucky sentry outside, she was a girl in her late teens, short light brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She had on a plain tunic, dyed a dark maroon and woolen hose.
The girl must have been a light sleeper, because her eyes fluttered open as she came to. They soon widened as she saw the grinning face of a drow looking down at her and she opened her mouth to scream. Before she had a chance, though, Kaitaan held the spellstone up to her lips and blew over it, aiming for the girl’s face. From the surface of the stone, a stream of faint magical lights blew off, flickering as they hit her target. In an instant, the girl’s eyelids became heavy. The scream she’d been about to make turned into a deep yawn. As the magic of the Dream Stone took hold, the soldier slipped into a deep enchanted sleep. Nothing non-magical would awaken her within the next hour or so.
Kaitaan repeated this with the other seven soldiers in the barracks, all of whom proved to be girls in their late teens or early twenties. Some of them stirred, only to fall back down again. Others were never even aware Kaitaan was there, slipping from normal slumber into the enchanted sleep. With the last girl under, Kaitaan got to work, confident she wouldn’t be disturbed. Taking cord from her bag, she went from bed to bed, swiftly tying the soldiers up. A couple of their blankets were torn to fashion blindfolds and gags for when they did come to. Soon, she had half the outpost’s garrison hogtied on their beds.
Leaving them to sleep, blissfully unaware of their peril,. Kaitaan left the barracks. A quick glance over the stockade told her there were no more soldiers out and about, save the lone, bound figure of the sentry on the wall. She’d woken from her bump on the head and was busy struggling, without much success. Kaitaan’s keen ears picked up the faint whimpers that escaped her gag, but she doubted they would carry to the tower.
The drow snuck in that direction, aiming for the stout wooden door at the front. She paused there, listening. There was at least one soldier, more likely two inside, but they weren’t anywhere near the door and seemed preoccupied. Kaitaan decided to risk it, as the tower didn’t seem to have any other ground level doors or even windows and scaling the tower, with watchmen up top, would be impractical. She oiled the hinges and knob and slipped it open a crack, quietly as she could.
The ground floor room was dark, save the low yellow and orange glow of a fire in the kitchen hearth. The dark shapes of trestle tables and benches filled the space between it and the door, allowing Kaitaan to slip in unseen. Two soldiers were gathered by the fire. One, a young teen like the other girls, knelt beside a large wooden washtub, plying a rag on a metal pot without much enthusiasm. Standing nearby, supervising her was an older, somewhat thicker woman who, from the apron about her waist, was the garrison’s cook. Kaitaan guessed the younger girl was being punished by having to scrub and clean the remains of the garrison’s evening meal.
From behind the nearest trestle table, Kaitaan drew another spellstone from the pouch and whispered the activation word. At the same time, she pointed the finger of her free hand in the direction of the hearth. The fire, which had been burning high and bright suddenly began to die down. In a few seconds, there was only the low glow of embers, too low for the two human women to see by, but more then adequate for a drow. Kaitaan crept towards them as the cook took a poker and stirred the ashes in vain.
“Must be a batch of bad wood, soaked in the middle…” The cook grumbled in the local human tongue, one of a number Kaitaan understood at least partly. She got behind the cook and, without warning, gave her a sudden shove. She topped over onto the other soldier with a muffled thud. Before they could untable themselves and rise, Kaitaan stepped forward, sword drawn. She angled the blade, making sure the fire, which had started to take once more now the spell had ended, glinted off the sharp steel where they could see it.
“Cry out and you’re both dead!” Kaitaan whispered to the women in their own language. “Nod if you understand!” Dumbstruck,the two soldiers nodded. “Both of you lie down on the stomachs, side by side. Hands behind your backs!” Kaitaan snapped. Numbly they obeyed her. With more rope from the bag, the two were soon tightly hogtied. A couple dish rags from the kitchen served to adequately gag them. As they struggled helplessly, the Drow walked towards the wooden stairs, which spiraled up the inside of the tower walls and climbed them to the second floor.
Where the ground floor had been one large, open space, this floor had been fitted with thin wood partition walls, dividing it into two smaller chambers. One would be quarters and an office for the Captain in charge of the watchtower. The other would be quarters for the sergeants. Kaitaan went to the latter one first and cracked the door. On the other side was a cramped room just big enough for a pair of beds, two wooden trunks and a small writing table. A candle burned on it, by which a short, dark haired woman in her late twenties was writing a report or a letter of some sort. Another broad-shouldered brunette about the same age lay on one of the beds, smoking a pipe.
Taking the dreamstone out once again, Kaitaan aimed it at the sergeant on the bed. She yawned, tamping out the pipe before rolling over and falling asleep. The second woman at the desk had her back to her comrade and didn’t notice, until Kaitaan turned the stone on her and she slumped over onto the desk, snoring loudly. Silently, the drow slipped inside and quickly had both of them hogtied and gagged.
Closing the door behind her, Kaitaan went to the other door and stood beside it. She raised a hand and lightly rapped her knuckles on it.
“Yes? Come in!” A woman’s voice called from the other side.
“Come quickly! It’s urgent!” Kaitaan answered, trying to make her voice sound as much like one of the human soldiers as possible.
“What? What’s the matter?” The woman asked, sounding irked.
“It’s urgent!” Kaitaan replies, insistently. She waited, blade drawn as she heard the woman inside the room stand, obviously annoyed, and walk to the door. It swung open and a woman came out. She was older than the girls under her command, dark auburn hair tied in a neat bun. Her tunic was of finer cloth then the rest, with some ornamentation at the collar and cuffs to signify her rank. She was in the process of buckling on a sword as she came out.
From her position beside the door, Kaitaan slipped easily behind the human woman. Her left hand clamped over the Captain’s mouth, the other brought the edge of her short sword to the other woman’s throat. “Do not resist or they’ll need a new captain for this tower.” Kaitaan whispered. Her captive grunted indignantly, but raised her hands and did not struggle as Kaitaan led her back into the room.
The captain’s quarters were more spacious than those of the sergeants. Beside the bed in the far corder, it had a wardrobe in addition to the large wooden drunk and a full desk with a heavy, carved armchair. A candle flickered on the desk, beside the ledger the captain had been making entries in when she was interrupted.
Another soldier sat by the bed. She was noticeably younger than the other soldiers, a small slip of a girl; the captain’s aide or squire, Kaitaan guessed. She’d been engaged in polishing a pair of fine leather riding boots. They slipped from her fingers as she looked up and saw, with horror, her mistress stumble into the room, held at swordpoint by a drow intruder.
“Not a word or she dies!” Kaitaan snapped. The girls’ mouth clamped shut, her scream stillborn. Kaitaan dragged the captain to the heavy wooden chair and forced her to sit down in it. “Tie her up!” Kaitaan ordered the aid. Fale pale, eyes wide with fright, the girl took the rope Kaitaan gave her and inexpertly lashed her commanding officer to the chair.
A neckerchief from the wardrobe was used to gag her then Kaitaan ordered the girl to gag herself with a scarf. She made the aide sit on the chair, straddling the captain and tied the two women together. Kaitaan double checked the girl’s knotwork, tightening a few loose ones, drawing grunts of discomfort from the older woman.
Confident they wouldn’t be going anywhere, Kaitaan proceeded up to the armor. It was dark and empty save for racks holding spare sets of armor, spears, bows and bundles of arrows. Above was another empty floor, smaller than those below as the walls of the tower tapered. A number of arrow slits pierced the walls, spaced equidistant the whole way around Three of them had a small torsion powered ballista sitting in front of it, with a small wooden barrel holding bolts. A fourth scorpion sat in the center of the room, its mechanism partially disassembled as it was repaired.
A slight breeze met Kaitaan as she continued following the stairs. Ahead of her, an open trapdoor led onto the open roof of the tower and the watchman’s platform. A small brazier filled with glowing coals provided some light to the space. It was partially blocked though, by the figure of a short girl in helm and gambeson who knelt beside it, warming her hands above the fire. Leaned against the outer crenulations was a longbow and a quicker of arrows. A few paces away was another girl with a bow who stood looking out into the darkened countryside, keeping watch for danger, unaware it was creeping up behind them.
At the center was a raised platform, piled high with neatly cut and stacked logs. Ready close by were flasks of oil and baskets of twigs, stray and other incendiaries to allow them to light the beacon at a moment’s notice. A chest, Kaitaan knew, held powders and potions which, cast into the fire, could cause it to give off thick black smoke or clean white smoke or burn a different color or a number of different effects, each sending a different sort of message to the nearby fortress.
With the rest of the watchtower’s garrison captured, Kaitaan wasted little time with its two remaining defenders. She was standing beside the girl at the brazier before either realized she was there. A sharp blow from the gladius’ pommel sent the first watchwoman sprawling, not out completely but stunned temporarily. The second soldier turned with a cry of alarm. She fumbled with her bow, trying to string an arrow. Before she had a chance to draw though, Kaitaan crossed the space and deftly cut the bowstring. The first guard had, by this time, staggered up and drawn a dagger from her belt. Spinning around rapidly, Kaitaan brought the flat of her blade onto the girl’s hand, causing her to gasp and drop her weapon.
“Hands up!” Kaitaan ordered, turning again to point the tip of her sword at the second guard who was likewise fumbling for her dagger. Terrified, the girls obeyed, raising their hands in surrender. As she had with the soldiers down below, Kaitaan ordered them to lie down with their hands behind their backs, allowing her to quickly hogtie and gag them. The blades and arrows were carefully gathered up and tossed over the side of the tower, to prevent them from cutting their bonds.
As they squirmed, the drow went to the northern side of the tower and looked out. She took another spellstone from the bag and held it up, muttering an activation word. The stone lit up, casting an eldritch green light out into the dark night. Careful to keep her body behind the stone so the light would only be visible to the north, Kaitaan waved her free hand over the stone again and again in a steady pattern. From out in the woods, another light flashed back, flicking in the same manner. Kaitaan smiled, letting the light from her stone die.
With a final glance at the two hogtied watchwomen, Kaitaan descended the tower, heading to the ground floor. She went out the door and crossed the stockade to the palisade gate. She’d just unbarred it and swung the heavy wooden doors opened when the sound of marching feet caught her ears
A minute later, a long column of drow, armed and armored, came marching out of the woods past the tower. A group of drow, half a dozen or so, peeled off and approached the gate. At the head was a stern, older Drow woman in dark leather armor edged with silver filigree. At her throat glittered a silver insignia of three interlocking chain links, the sigil of the House of Chains. “All secure? No alarms raised?” The Raid Leader asked as Kaitaan hurried over and snapped off a salute.
“None of them had a chance.” Kaitaan replied with a smirk. She turned and pointed to the tower, barracks and the section of the wall where her first captive was still struggling feebly.
The Raid Leader dispatched the drow accompanying her to collect the captive soldiers. “They will stay here to hold the tower.” She told Kaitaan. “You’ll be in command. If you see any activity from the Fortress, light the beacon fire. We’ll know it’s time to withdraw back to the tunnel.”
Kaitaan’s expression at the thought of missing out on the rest of the raids must have shown on her face. The Raid Leader laughed. “Taking a dozen and a half captives single-handedly in one night isn’t enough for you? By the goddess, you’ll be Raid Leader before too many years, I’ll wager! But for now, if you please, let the rest of us have some fun!”
Kaitaan pouted, but nodded, giving another salute as the Raid Leader turned and hurried to rejoin the rest of the Drow as they slipped silently past the towers. It was a huge force, nearly the full strength of the House of Chains, plus freelancers and adventurers drawn by the promise of plunder. This would be their one shot at this. The humans would realize they were vulnerable at this spot. The small, isolated tower with its lax garrison would be replaced with proper fortifications and a new, bigger garrison. Best to take full advantage and despoil as much of the valley as possible while it was still vulnerable.
“Of course, by spending their strength fortifying this spot, they’ll become vulnerable elsewhere.” She thought. Sooner or later, the Drow spies would discover those spots and exploit them to launch new raids.
Kaitaan turned and crossed the stockade, passing the drow raiders now under her command as they carried bound and gagged soldiers from the barracks towards the tower. The human girls squirmed and struggled, sobbing into their gags as they awoke to find themselves helpless prisoners.
Inside, she climbed to the top of the tower to the watch post and peered out into the darkness. It was just now past midnight. At this time of year, the raiders still had hours left before dawn to carry out their work. She could just make out the drow forces, splitting into individual raiding parties and heading to the many villages which twinkled in the valley below.
Then, Kaitaan turned her gaze eastward. That was the closer of the two fortresses and the greatest danger to the raiders if its garrison was alerted. Unlike the small, vulnerable watchtower, the fortress was an imposing edifice of stone. Torched glinted on the walls where sentries paced, but there didn’t seem to be any unusual activity taking place. They remained as yet unaware of the enemy force which had snuck past them.
Kaitaan called up two of her drow and assigned them the job of keeping the fortress under watch and to look out for anyone approaching their tower. Two more were ordered to patrol the stockade, just in case. Then she went to the ground floor where the rest of her small force had gathered their prisoners.
The human women knelt in a line in the center of the room, their hands still tied behind their backs, gags muffling their whimpers and sobs as they glanced at each other and up at their captors, eyes wide with horror. Whether they’d realized what their failure tonight would mean for the villages they’d been entrusted with protecting, they were painfully aware, as all living on the frontier did, what it meant to have fallen into the hands of the Drow: slavery, cruel and merciless, in their dark underground kingdom, never see to see home or family again.
With nothing to do but wait for the raiding parties to carry out their wicked work, Kaitaan and the remaining drow amused themselves by stripping their captives, one at a time and subjecting their vulnerable, naked bodies to a quick slave inspection. The drow chatted amongst each other, guessing at what each trembling girl might fetch on the auction block in Medialis. Kaitaan made sure enough of the conversation was done in language the captives could understand, so that all understood what their fate would be.
She was just feeling up the garrison captain, having saved her for last, when one of the two watchwomen called down that the first of the raiding parties were coming back. Giving the older woman’s breasts one last quick grope, Kaitaan ran up the stairs. As she came out onto the roof, dawn was just starting to break over the valley, bringing color to the scattered woods, rolling farmlands and pleasant looking villages, some of which were looking rather less pleasant with smoke rising from burnt out huts.
Kaitaan followed the other drow’s pointing finger southward, spotting the large group approaching the tower. The first thing she saw was the large mass of captives stumbling along. Most were still in their nightshirts, having been dragged from their beds as the drow raiders broke in, some wore even less than that. Their hands were tied behind their backs, gags were tied over their mouths. Many were tied in long slave coffles which stretched back down into the valley. A large number of them had been further burdened with heavy bundles. Though the drow had come primarily to capture slaves, they wouldn’t pass up other plunder when the opportunity was there.
Most of the captives appeared to be women and older girls. It was standard practice on such raids to prioritize those who could most easily be put to use laboring for their captors. The young, the elderly and the infirm would usually be left behind, penned in some convenient building to prevent them from raising the alarm until the drow had escaped with their captive kin. Given the war raging in the south, most of the menfolk left in the villages would have fallen into one of those categories.
Circling around the herd of captive humanity like aggressive sheepdogs were the drow raiders. Their numbers looked few and insignificant compared to the mass of slaves they escorted, but their prisoners were bound and the drow had whips and weapons and the terror they inspired, born of generations of slave raids. None of the peasant maidens resisted as they were marched off into slavery.
Noting that, if she could see the raiders and their prisoners, they could be seen from the Fortress as well, Kaitaan turned to look in that direction. Sure enough, as the first of the slave coffles was passing by the tower, she spotted flashes of movement on the battlements of the fortress. Faint alarm bells could be heard in the distance as the soldiers awoke to the awful knowledge that the valley had been despoiled and much of its population abducted. They would be too late to put out a pursuit force, Kaitaan thought, but only if the raiders made haste in their escape.
“Get ready! We’re pulling out!” Kaitaan called down to the drow on the parapets. She sent her two watchdrow down with the same message. Then she turned to the signal fire. She took a spellstone from the pouch and used it to ignite the wood. The dry tinder caught immediately. As smoke from from the tower, the drow down below saw the warning and began to ply their whips with greater ferocity, urging the captives along. The bound women and girls moaned in dismay, realizing the sudden alarm among their captors could only mean a friendly force was near at hand, but under the whips they had no choice but to quicken their pace, marching further and further from their last hope of rescue.
Kaitaan, meanwhile, busies herself spreading out more wood and kindling across the roof of the tower. If she had arranged things right, the flames of the signal fire would soon spread, hopefully taking the entire tower down…but not before she and the others had left. A ruined tower would be more expensive to replace, increasing the chances of vulnerabilities elsewhere in the kingdom’s defenses. As the flames crackled up higher, the drow raider abandoned the watch post and hurried down the stairs.
While she had been busy up top, the rest of her drow had gotten their prisoners to their feet and lashed into a coffle for transport. Like the peasants shuffling past, many of the soldiers were loaded down with weapons and stores plundered from the tower and barracks. Human forged weapons were crude by drow standards, but good quality steel was always useful.
“Get moving!” Kaitaan ordered. Some of the other drow emphasized the order by cracking short leather whips close by the naked flanks of the human girls. Sobbing and yelping, the bound captives shuffled from the tower and across the stockade towards the gate. Soldiers no more, now they were just helpless captives of the drow like the masses being herded past the watchtower. Many of the peasants turned, glaring at the captured soldiers with expressions of bitter hate and betrayal for failing to stop the raiders from dragging them all off in bondage. As the tower went up in flames behind them, the mass shuffled up into the foothills, to the secret tunnel which led down into the drow caverns and a new life of slavery…