Heleion Archives

Raven Rock, a Black Rose facility which name came from the formation on the Eptirrion Mountain range serving as the southern border of Naireanth. It vaguely resembles a raven hewn from the peak itself – still debated though whether it was naturally happened or a coven of elven witches, maybe even the Black Rose Coven itself, made it. One thing was sure that a vast complex system has been built into it spanning dozens of levels.

Originally it was used by the Bhahamuthians to progress the magicraft inventions at the Age of Enlightenment centuries ago. During the incident with Coven of the Forsaken, they sold the facility to the Black Rose at the behest of their Supreme Hersith, the Queen herself.

The Black Rose Order themselves allegedly conduct various experiments with new crystals harvested from the meteorites floating in the Void Between Worlds – mainly to create higher grade golem-engines for their Sky and Sea Vessels. But on under the surface they conduct much more than that.

Which was partially the reason for the cacophony of footsteps and yells reverberating in the hangar – that itself laid in the beak of the peak. An ornated flottirion hovered into it and slowly descended into the nearest landing pad near the entrance further into the complex. Black Rose Drengriars lined up into two columns with their ornated stave rifles gazing at the ceiling with their barrels as they rested on their shoulders.

A young appearing star elven sloegriir called Ainumil rushed towards the Flottirion as it ramped door opened down. She had long star silvery hair with a hint of light violet bundled into a franchoin bun at the back, gracefully glowing violet eyes and lips. She was currently only clad in her matching rouge violet hued blouse and corset vest.

“Welcome Sister Foy! We expected the Hersith Haldorreen herself.”

The tall, athletic Adelia Foy, clad in the alluring and slightly menacing uniform of the Eyes with a long, slim leathery silken cloak of raven black kind appeared instead of the expected Hersith. Who themselves were considered to be the fourth most eye-catching member of the Black Rose Order – fifth if we counted Astrydril.

The figure ignored her and with a snap commended the artificer and her two Skjaldmaerior bodyguards to follow after her.

“Let’s go then. Everything is ready as she ordered.” The Aimumil rushed after her after letting her frustration come out with a cute growl and two deep breaths to calm her senses.

**

Footsteps echoed through the vast network of corridors leading small platforms on the jagged mountain walls. Each of these platforms were built with hidden enchantments woven into their pristine obsidian floor that when activated conjure a magicraft gun capable of shooting down hostile air-vessels like flottirions or thopters.

One of the footsteps’ source was a young, 156 year old soratanese drengriar – Morikawa Marise – sporting a short boyish shaggy dark hair with the spiky ends dyed in a vibrant, deep burgundy hue. And with a face perfectly lined and gifted with elvish contours thanks to the Black Rose concoction. One of these were her graceful eyes blessed with reddish violet pupils gleaming in the warm light of the glowstones embedded into the ceiling.

“Just two more hours before change.” Marise mumbled as she slid her sleeves back to look at her watch decorating her frail appearing right wrist.

She swiftly spun around with her right hand over the handle of her wand pistol. “What was that?” A tearing sound echoed softly through the straight corridor a few meters behind her. With slow and careful steps she made her way backwards while increasing her supernatural senses to pick up any sound or presence.

Two hands covered in dark leathery clothing peeked out from the wall behind her – the white side of sealing tape attached to the left palm. “Crrrm.” She felt her mana being suffocated as Claraste’s left hand clamped over her mouth and the black sealing tape fastened itself to her skin. A muffled yelp echoed through then a series of hits on leather followed after which a soft thud came ending the song of take down.

**

“Everything is going splendidly. By our estimation the weapon part will be done by the end of the next month Lady Foy!” Ainumil said as she tried to match her pace to Foy’s who silently listened onto her report as they approached the deeper parts of the complex. The parts where the new Void Station’s magicraft weapon system had been built for the past decade or more.

Their little group accompanied by the two Skjaldmaeriors slowly made their way through the myriad – wide and large – corridors with walls of thick adramantyrium that could soak in the amounts of weird mana they worked with. These corridors – paths of improvement as they liked to call it – followed a different style so to speak. Instead of sharp corners and edges, they were built with the opposite. Corners bent like the edges of fresh, flexible lexicons. Small domes decorated the center of the ceiling from which light bathed them wholly.

“The Hersith would have been happier if it would have been finished by now.” Adelia said in her soft threatening way.

“Oh we know. But this stuff, it is still new to us. Especially if we can’t share our findings with the others.” Ainumil wrapped her complaint in an excusing tone while taking a look at her reflection on the dark metallic wall. She straightened her collars caressing her sharp elven cheeks as they stopped in front of an imposing gate.

Two holes opened on the ceiling and a dark liquid – similar to fluid alloys – slithered out like a serpent before two beautiful elvish visages appeared on them with faint features. Their eyes lit up in a bluish silver hue as they scanned the group with astral energies. “Acceptable.” A monotone voice ringed in all their heads before the two slithered their way back to the holes and the gate howled with a gentle metallic screech while sliding into the walls.

“Sadly until this work is done – we cannot allow knowledge to slip out anymore from the confines of this facility and the others.” Foy said faking a bit of compassion as she glared at Ainumil. A chill ran over her spine and she nodded in understanding before they continued their way inside.

**

Ambika – a far south-eastern Heleion native of stygian kin – yawned as she leaned against the wall right beside the office door. She was sported a short, ebony black disconnected style bob with an arched fringe cut with razor to produce her soft jagged appearing locks over her dark reddish forehead. Some even grazed gently her small devilish horns sprouting forth from under it. Similarly to her Sisters – the Black Rose Concoction made her facial features perfectly lined, and even distorted them giving her a half-elven appearance in a way.

The crimson high folded collars of her blouse gently pushed onto her neck even unbuttoned in the tight embrace of her drengrieth type-v’s rolled down neck. The snow silvery trims and frames decorating it thinly emitted a tender luster while the utility belt perfected her well-honed body in the embrace of the draconic glamorous uniform.

In her boredom, she conjured three spheres into her clawed hands and started jiggling while waiting for her change. “Ambika, right? Could you help me out for a second?” Marise appeared at the end of the wide corridor that was awfully quiet waving her hand with a bright expression.

“Of course. If it kills some of my time. A considerable amount preferably.” Ambika said jokingly as she got infected with the bright smile of her Sister – who got impersonated by Claraste. “Sure we can kill a considerable amount. This way!” The two walked to the nearby storage room where the Sloegriir’s on this level – the 55th out of the seventy – kept their various gadgets and artificer stuff used to measure mana residue in magicrystals and so on.

Ambika followed the perfectly disguised Claraste inside and she led the unassuming drengriar further in until the two faced a bound and sealing tape gagged snaelven Sister of hers lying at the far right corner. “Huh?” Was the only thing Ambika could utter before she collapsed down with a thud while smoke risen from her leathery uniform. 

“That went a bit smoother than I imagined.” Claraste said with a bit of disappointment in her voice as she placed a small disk under Ambika’s neatly sharp jawline. Marika’s mimicked visage lost all its features as it shaped into Ambika’s. “Well, this is always the best part anyways.” Then she added as she took the enchanted rope and sealing tape from Ambika’s military pouch hanging on her belt.

**

“As you can see it, most of the frame had been completed and polished.” Ainumil said proudly as they entered her large office. Their steps muffled by the vast carpet covered floor with a deep rouge red hue.

“Be a more bit punctual. What does that mean?” Adelia asked as she stopped suddenly in front of Ainumil’s desk – shaped like a crescent moon a few meters away from the wide curving steps. Behind it a large painting of colder hues depicting the charge of celestials against a horde of demons sprouting forth from darkness.

“It means that it will be protected against the elements of the Void Between Worlds. But and what delays the end of the production is that it still weak against the weapon’s power. To say it in common – it can withstand the hit from void stones but can’t stand the concentrated energies of said void stones. They are far ahead of what our current magicraft weapons can produce.” Ainumil explained as she sat down into her mahogany hued leather clad chair and rolled closer to her desk. The two Skjaldmaeriors stood behind her silently.

“I see. Could you give us an estimation of its destructive capabilities?” Adelia asked as she placed her fingers over her mask covered chin while pondering.

“It is hard to say honestly. But if I had to give one, we could separate Eoran by obliterating the central bridge connecting north and south. Not like I want to just for your information or anything.” Ainumil scraped her head while she stared at the ceiling coming up with an estimation of the destruction.

“That will be all then. Thank you for your time, Sister.” Adelia said feeling satisfied.

**

“No one is expected by Sister Ainumil for the rest of the day!” One of the drengriars – a tall dark elf with bluish silver long hair – called out to the slowly approaching naurdian sloegriir with intense chestnut hued long hair tied in a ponytail with a silken red bow tie.

“Ah, sorry just forgot to give these to Sister Ainumil before the visit.” Ada Bessan muttered it out with trembling, glossy red lips and teary intense green eyes as she bowed to the two guards stationed outside Ainumil’s office. Her sweet dark chocolate scent permeated the air and swiftly found its way into their small nostrils. Their eyes turned from frustration to charmed.

“Fine. Just be quick before she returns.” The blonde sol elven drengriar said with a tender smile not fully matching her slightly hostile tone.

“I’ll be quick.” Claraste said in Ada’s gentle, high-pitched voice as she bowed quickly – with an easy smile decorating her disguised visage for a mere second.

**

“Can’t wait for that stupid weapon to be finished finally.” Yeva – the naurdian bodyguard of Ainumil blessed with a long scarlet red hair with her fringe hiding her left intense, deep brown eye – said. Her slender, voluptuous body was clad in her issued, single breasted Skjaldmaerith Type-V dragonid leather jacket with a single drauclar plate decorating the right shoulder. From it a slim snow silvery silken short cloak protruded out with raven black rose thorn embroidered frames.

The neck hidden under her glossy, dense hair was made in a V-Shape which itself was half-way folded down – fashioned after the hlifriel flower. A flower that was famously known to have petals so strong that they could withstand the thrusts of a mithrinite sword, as it once saved the life of an ancient king of Naireanth. Between her jacket’s neck, the snow white aetherna satin collars pressed against her neck buttoned down.

“Well this is just as important as mauling down some group of lowlifes or cultists.” Lorenaith, her senior orii elven Sister said as she gently combed her dense, vibrant violet hair reaching down to her shoulder in fine angles with the bottom dyed platinum blondish. Her curvaceous slender body was clad in the very same uniform her fellow Skjaldmaerior wore. Except her blouse collars were hidden behind her completely zipped up jacket.

“I get that. But I wish you would have told me that most of our tasks would be babysitting her and her work.” Yeva crossed her arms as she placed her soft butt encased in dragonid leather over the sink’s edge.

“Well look at the good part. It is essentially a free-month for us.” Lorenaith’s wide, smooth lips bent into a faint grin as she said jokingly.

“The good part would be an infiltrator that would put up a good fight.” Yeva said as she marched out from the office’s enormous bath.

And just as the door closed behind her she noticed the disguised Claraste going through Ainumil’s golputer. “Hey, what are you doing there?” She said with a wide grin across her perfectly lined and featured face. A long spear with metallic snow silvery vine twisting across the raven black hilt appeared in her hands.

“Oh you know. Just going through stuff.” Claraste said with halfway through giving up, imagining already the ways she’ll bind the redhead Skjaldmaerior.

“Shit.” Yeva cursed as Claraste disappeared from the chair leaving only behind a small cloud of smoke already dissipating. Then as she sensed her opponent appearing behind her, she swiftly released one of her hands from the hilt, lifted the spear and swinged it around while funneling mana into her left hand’s arcane point. Some of it bled into her weapon, changing the tip of the spear into a curving blade that cut – or at least hoped to – into Claraste’s body.

Instead of cutting cloth and skin, it not so gently caressed Claraste’s side while hurled her across the large office. She silently landed on her feet while slid back a few meters. “That was not nice.” The sweet taste of her own blood converged in her mouth as she spoke.

Yeva not wasting time already charged at her, changing the shape back to its dagger like original shape. Her aim – Claraste’s head this time. A few more time inscriptions formed in all her arcane points as the surroundings slowed down for Yeva, while for Claraste Yeva turned into a blurry mess.

“I see.” She said as the blurry mess that was Yeva leaped and thrusted her spear forward. A huge amount of her mana flowed into her hands as she slapped them together, stopping the spear than hurled Yeva into wall. With a loud crash Yeva fell face down onto the carpeted floor.

“That hurghl” Yeva slowly raised up from the ground, but before she could stand on her foot, Claraste blasted her with silenced wand pistol. With a soft thud, Yeva drifted into the lands of dreams.

But before she could celebrate taking down a Skjaldmaerior, she ducked down immediately as Lorenaith’s sword swung over her head. Then like her previous opponent, she flew across the room and into the painted white wall as a strong gust of conjured wind assaulted her body.

“Yeva and her cursed mouth.” Lorenaith said as she held her wand pistol in her left, her sword pointed at Claraste with an annoyed look that made her somehow even more alluring even to Claraste.

“Oh that definitely hurt.” Claraste spit her own mauve blood onto the carpeted floor, then quickly erased with a swing of her arm over it. As she straightened herself, she also swiped her mouth clean as her blood dripped from it. Thanks to the borrowed uniform, her cracked bones slowly healed and the sudden pain that assaulted her was nothing more than a distant memory. A really unpleasant distant memory.

The two circled around each other. Claraste mostly went through ways to quickly take down Lorenaith. On the other hand Lorenaith herself went through similar thoughts while also measuring in the chance of Yeva waking up and making all this a bit easier. When she flinched for a moment, Claraste sprang into action and teleported behind and above the elven Skjaldmaerior with leg sweeping down, aimed at the hidden joint on the right side of her neck.

Lorenaith swiftly reacted and swung her sword diagonally, hoping to at least push her opponent away in worst case, in best case sever her leg. Neither happened as her blade cut into Claraste, her body disintegrated into fluid shadows that surrounded and invaded her facial orifices. A coughing fit took her over – her weapons dropped down to the floor – then she let out a sound that was a combination of her coughing and a high-pitched yelp as Claraste’s leg stroke at her nape.

With a soft thud she landed on the ground unconscious.  But just for good measure, Claraste shot a tranquilizing blast at her back. She twitched and went back to her limp state once again. Claraste went through both their pockets – numbering eight together – before dragging the two back towards the bathroom before her own soft bottom hit a hidden button that opened up a small storage area.

 “That will do I guess.” A smirk bent onto her lips as she dropped the soundly asleep Yeva onto ground while coils of enchanted rope dangled on her shoulders.

**

“What do you mean she bought a bundle of documents I asked for? I never asked for anything.” Ainumil yelled at the two guards as soon as she heard about Claraste entering. “Also I told you, contact me if anyone wants to bring stuff up here.” Then she added as she went past by the door.

“I need better guards. I guess I should have asked for Skjaldmaerior there too.” She said while looking for mentioned documents on her table. Yet they were awfully absent – even though the two let Claraste past. While she would handwave it away – as it weren’t the first time this happened – she felt a chill ran down her spine as she noticed the silence of her office.

With a soft snap the uppermost drawer of the desk on the right opened and she grabbed the wand pistol within. She slowly approached the bathroom, then stopped when muffled noises came through the wall onto her right.

“Nmhmr hrrhh r hncchrm.” Inside the sight of the two Skjaldmeriors back to back sitting on the ground – tightly bound with their own enchanted rope. Their mouths and eyes sealed with wide strips of black sealing tape each. Their weapons carefully placed closer to the inner wall.

“I guess it wouldn’t have made any difference.” Ainumil sighed as she noted to herself. “What happened?” Then she asked as she peeled the tape off Lorenaith’s lips and cheeks swiftly.

“Some intruder entered disguised as one of our own. They went through your golpuhmr.” Before she could finish Ainumil in her rising anger – and dread – put the tape back over Lorenaith mouth and closed the wall while rushing back to her desk.

“There is an infiltrator. Find them, capture them, and bring them to my office immediately.” A small square section slid into the rest of the desk revealing a frosted glass surface upon which she placed her thumb. It lit up as her mana flowed into it, activating the inscription within. Liquid metal flowed from another opened hole and took the shape of microphone that sent her voice into everyone’s head within the facility.

Within seconds every guard on every level searched for Claraste. Yet they only found the other drengriars and Ada Bessan naked and trussed up in her own office that was left unguarded by Ambika. The search went on for a day before the rather anxious Ainumil concluded the Claraste left the facility an hour ago before she found the two Skjaldmeriors in her hidden storage area.