Howling...
Howling filled the tunnel to bursting, reverberating through every stone, pipe, and ghoul gem until their rattling added to the din. The terrifying noise turned steel resolve to jelly. The old creepers were fond of saying 'Even the thickest, foulest blood runs cold when the hellhounds bay'.
Howling...
Howling filled the air, closing in on all sides. The coursing dogs of The Wild Hunt were closing in.
Miminda Akka Yodiha was quick and light on her feet, easily skipping over the ancient debris cramming the old ruins of Novabia's Folly. She slid under a toppled pillar, and dashed down a side passage. It wasn't her first time dancing through The Folly nor was it her first time running afoul of The Wild Huntsman. However this was the first time she'd cut things so close. She felt his hounds right on top of her, their heat breathing down her neck.
Miminda shuddered again at the sound of another baying of the hounds, and shook her head as centuries old dust fell into her eyes. Her desperate path led down another large tunnel. Older than any of the previous, it stank of thick dust and ages of neglect. Tucking her bundle close, Miminda Yodiha jumped down a filth encrusted chute, and burrowed through ancient refuse forgotten by time.
Eventually she found herself in a hall of pillars and balconies sitting vigil on either side of a wide expanse of polished stone. Despite the dust of antiquity, the place felt preserved. Ghoul gems, larger than Miminda had ever seen, rested in sconces lining the walls, allowing her sensitive eyes to see in the darkness. This hall was in far better shape than the rest of the old ruins.
Miminda eyed one of the huge ghoul gems. It's exquisite cut directed the illumination downward in a wide cone, a style which hadn't been popular for many cycles. For a moment she forgot about running for her life. The Mimi thought of one thing. Treasure.
She knew of one fence, an old goblin from Glass-in-Fire-Basin, that would pay handsomely for such old world trinkets. She also knew a number of imps who would pay her even more, but, as a rule, she avoided working with bastards from The Dark whenever possible. There was only one exception, The Wild Huntsman himself.
Cross. He wasn't as bad as most darklings... at least that's what she always told herself. Cross was master of The Wild Hunt, charged by The Heir to The Dark to run down lost souls as well as those souls more stolen than lost. He was devilishly handsome, in a literal sense, with a thing for virgins of the cloth. Some even said he couldn't go a fortnight without prowling into The World Above and claiming the virtue of an untainted nun to satiate his cravings.
Miminda was no nun, but Cross seemed to like her anyway. He hired her for a few dozen job, and paid generously. Miminda used that connection to her advantage. She used that familiarity to ease past The Raven, Cross's meanest and most frightful hellhound. That was how Mimi was able to creep into Cross's private chambers, one of the most fortified spaces south of Three-Cold-Stones. That was why his favorite hunting horn was clutched under her arm.
The howl that found Miminda in the old hall made her knees weak. Most of The Wild Hunt sounded the same, horrible and terrifying, but The Raven, bitch from the frozen depths of The Dark, had a howl all her own. Hers was more frightening than all of the others combined. The old creepers called it 'The end of all things put to music'. The Raven was far scarier than her master and the vile princess he served. The Raven was fear made flesh, and she was close.
Miminda ran down the long hall gripping her prize like a protective mother. She'd worked hard for her spoils and intended to enjoy them. She had a blade of iron, a silver hand axe, and a shortbow. None of which would be very effective unless the hellhounds came for her one at a time. That wasn't likely. Mimi also had sprite paint and the basic knowledge of any novice. Miminda could write sprite script, but she'd never be a battle scriptor. Any darkling stronger than an imp would kill her before she could work her creeper magic. Sprite script wouldn't help Miminda against the likes of The Raven and her pack.
The goblin scanned the hall for a route of escape, her frantic breathing echoing throughout the empty space. On one end of the chamber sat a wide staircase leading upwards, she imagined forgotten vaults and hidden passages leading to the fabled World Above. Her musings of riches were dashed immediately. Stepping out of the shadows at the top was the pack alpha herself. The Raven stood before Miminda in all of her terrifying splendor. She bared her jet black teeth, and growled. Miminda slowly retreated, and The Raven matched her step for step. The hellhound's eyes blazed with fiery light far brighter than any ghoul gem.
The Raven. She was nearly seven feet of ash grey skin that shone like polished marble. From the knees down flexed the muscles of a massive wolf ending in talons as black as her teeth. From the knees up she was a gorgeous mix of maiden and mother, toned and soft, intertwining the best of both. Her huge cropped dog ears stood sentry on either side of a grand mane of red hair highlighted with oranges and yellows. Each step caused her tresses to swirl like living flame. Two-inch black claws tipped each outspread finger. The armor covering her ample bosom and womanhood shunned the ghoul gems' illumination. The Raven was the embodiment of beauty and fear. Her large sultry eyes narrowed, and her full lips parted.
"My master is angry with you," the hellhound said. Her voice was heavily accented with the northern Dark, and rumbled with the timbre of a hound's frightful howl.
Miminda tried her best to hide her fear, but the hound could smell it.
"Hail The Raven: Mother of Hounds, Champion of The Wild Hunt, Beauty of The Fifteen-Faced Forest," Miminda ticked off the pack leader's titles like a shopping list of honors.
She was in mortal peril, and knew it. Very few hunted by The Raven survived the pursuit. Even fewer had ever heard that sexy and sorrowful voice, and lived to tell the tale. Cross liked to sadistically joke that The Raven only spoke when moving in for the kill.
"You've made my master angry with me."
"I know, I know, but in all fairness you did let me in," Miminda blurted. "And you let me out too."
The darkling growled.
"My master has promised to punish me," The Raven said as she closed the distance between them. "I don't want to be punished."
Miminda's mind swirled with dozens of quips, but the goblin held her usually sharp tongue. Instead she backpedaled faster.
"Are you sure about that? I hear Cross is quite the master when it comes to whips and chains. Jhin Shinodi still bears his marks proudly." Miminda's words stopped The Raven in her tracks. The hellhound's sudden stillness somehow made her more imposing. "No, seriously I've seen them and they're kind of sexy." Fire blazed within The Raven's eyes and danced around her head. "I should really learn to shut my mouth sometimes."
The sound of clawing and scraping brought Miminda's attention to the refuse chute to her left. She'd used it to get in, and had hoped to use it as a way out. Instead the route was being blocked by a small male hellhound that had somehow managed to follow Mimi's entrance. Fresh scrapes covered his grey marble skin. The rage in his flaming eyes promised to make her pay for each wound tenfold.
Miminda didn't recognize the hellhound, but that meant little because most of the males looked the same to her. At the hint of movement, Miminda's attention returned to The Raven. The pack leader hadn't moved, but more of the darkling beasts poured down the stairs. Their mother, champion, and queen howled and the others joined The Raven's song.
Again Miminda shuddered, and voided a bit of her bladder. She wanted to flee with every fiber of her being, but knew to run would be her undoing. If she bolted, they'd give chase, and with nowhere to go she'd be caught this time. Miminda was so focused on the seven hellhounds in front of her she stumbled over the threshold to another chamber. Her heart skipped a beat, and she went for her blade. The ears of Miminda's pursuers perked at the sound of her yelp. The beasts made a collective growl.
The Raven's outstretched hands were the only things holding them back.
"Give me what you've taken from my master."
"Not sure if I can do that. I feel like it's a good way to get my arm gnawed off." Miminda looked around quickly, curious about her new surroundings. She stood in an ancient archway. "I'm not going to die here. It's not in the script."
The goblin opened her sack of sprite paint as fast as she could, dipping her fingers, and scrawling along the archway frame at a fevered pace. The Raven cocked her head to the side, and slowly lowered her hands.
"Not in the script!" Mimi shouted in defiance.
Miminda Yodiha ran for her life as the hellhounds surged forward on all fours. Every young creeper knew basic sprite script had no real effect on living creatures, but the crafty goblin had a trick or two up her sleeve.
With a running start she vaulted a twenty foot gap. Her blue and grey hair whipping wildly as she sailed through the air. She landed, rolled, and continued running. The gap was too small to slow the hellhounds, bred for hunting and killing.
She thought of her cousin, Ragdhyl, as she furiously put one foot in front of the other. An old ratkin had taught her sprite script, but Ragdhyl taught her how to use it. He'd pushed her hard, harder than any parent, beating and scolding Miminda whenever she performed at anything less than her best. His harsh tutelage had saved her life more than once.
Miminda glanced back as the first of the hellhounds crossed her hastily written sprite script. His loping form triggered her trap. The paint flashed bright, and the writing warped before sending cracks through the old stone. The archway buckled, the walls groaned, and tons of stone crumbled on top of the unsuspecting beast. Miminda laughed hysterically as she rounded a corner, and pushed her little legs as hard as she could.
Words of Shattering were her specialty. She'd brought herself some time, but it wouldn't stop the hunt.
