tilling the fields
The first screams were always the loudest, then once the chosen had realized what was happening the next grew slowly softer. The current one seemed to have a very good voice, her cries echoing through the hallways to the fine tuned ears of the creature that sat on her throne, smiling distantly. Good lungs, was probably a singer in her time, and the creature wondered if the process would leave her with that ability.
The screams lasted for a good half hour and then was replaced with soft moans, sliding towards the creatures ears like the pleasurable touch of a lover. The creature stood up and stretched, eager to see its new creation. As it walked into the light one could see the tight black and red leather bodice clinging against the body of a tall, beautifully sculpted woman, and one started to think thoughts that one always tried to keep to themselves. Not even the soft black wings that sprouted from her back, or the softly mottled skin of her face would deter the mind; it was only the wise that knew that form to be the most deadliest of weapon, the easiest device to disarm and weaken both male and female alike.
The hall in which she sat was sumptuous, rich velvet adorning the sides and walls. tapestries depicting lewd images of bodies in varying poses of fornication, and gold and silver everywhere. Silver bands holding the fine drapes against the golden stands, a burnished pillowed divan etched with platinum and the clinging feel of an expensive taste. Everything seemed too expensive, too overdone, too much wealth. A wise man would have said it was all fake, an illusion. But then those of her kind always cast illusions, the trick was to see what was real.
The soft stride sent shivers up the spine, whether of ecstasy or fear one could hardly differentiate. She moved through the passageway, her fingers languidly touching the walls, like a soft razor blade against skin. the moans coming from the chamber seemed to pull her onwards, her face in a lost ecstasy giving away how much she wanted to see her new pet. Slowly she approached the door, like a lover wanting to make the moment last teasing herself with the expectation.
Her selfish fantasy was ruined when the door was opened before her. She glared angrily at the human from that looked up at her blankly, part adoration, part fear, part mindlessness; for those of hers can barely understand the hold she had over them. She hissed angrily at the man, and he bowed deeply, almost cringing. He had been a promising student, but now was nothing but an irritation.
She grabbed the man by the neck and marched into the room and then gasped as she saw the creature that lay beyond. Her surprise and then happiness at the dark shadowy beauty that stood facing her was emphasized by her hand crunching the spine of one of her former Voices.
Setralus tossed the corpse away, whatever life it had had infusing her slightly and opened her arms lovingly to the newborn in front of her. Brody had proved to be as powerful as she had expected; now she wondered what the others would produce. As she cradled the former Bard in her arms she felt a soft shiver of anticipation when she thought of the Ranger, the Monk and the Barbarian, and their new friends. Soon they would be hers...
