Note to reader. Yes, this story has been permitted to borrow characters from a prequel, "In the World of Prisoners", submitted by Raelag852014. Thanks Raelag for the proofread!

Fair Hair

Written by Inudaughter Returns

This story, like most good stories of Ashan, begins in the tavern. The recruiting grounds for many a general, the taverns sprawled or scattered hodge-podge all across Ashan are by far the most racially diverse places to be found on a continent ruled by clashing races. Here, in the smoky gloom trailed by wizard's pipes, listening to the tambourine of nomads taking a breather from their occasional mischief of a bandit raid, tasting the sweet-bitter beer that only Dwarves could brew and export by the ship-sized barrel, one might find all races of Ashan. In the drunken state, it seems, denizens of Ashan rub elbows freely with every fiend they might fear by daylight- a sylvan elf bench mates to a necromancer, or a proud knight of the holy empire to a reveling succubus.

It was in one such tavern, deep underground in the labyrinth that was capital to Sinatara, ruler among Dark Elves, that a member of her personal army appeared. His goal, this time, was not brew but rather to recruit, for taverns are replete with idle warriors.

Vaythose, night stalker assassin for the Dark Elf Empire, looked across the bar for the table sitting immediately before the fire's light. There sat a warrior dressed in the same black robe as he, with the usual crossed steel daggers and stout leather boots of his trade. With a start, however, Vaythose noted that the stranger's chest bulged with the replete breasts of a female- odd indeed for the women of their race had many of their own military companies. Few indeed chose to take up the occupation of a male- whom were frequently seen as weak in a fiercely matriarchal society. Besides that one fact, no other fact could give Vaythose certainty, for the woman had the hood of her cloak drawn tightly down over her eyes. But it was the figure seated in front of the fire he had come to see.

With all the careful pacings of a cat about to perch in the presence of a dog, Vaythose took the chair opposite the stranger. The woman assassin then lifted her head , her eyes boring into his before she gave her head a very feminine tilt.

"What brings you here, stranger?" she uttered. Vaythose stiffened at the melodic rumblings of her tone.

"A mutual friend," he said. "Cathosa, the Iron Heels, told me I would find a mercenary for hire. Are you the one she calls Fair Hair?" The figure before him gave a snort, then a short laugh of mild derision.

"That Cathosa! Even after all these years, she never lets up! Yes, I am the one she calls Fair Hair, although she knows I do not like the name."

"Forgive me for asking," said Vaythose. "But why does she call you Fair Hair?"

"It is an old tale," said the female assassin, tucking her untidy cloak snuggly back onto her shoulder. "My mother was a Sylvan slave captured on a Dark Elf raid to the surface. I hid my hair with a wig, as I still do now. It is an odd trait. But Cathosa was an old bunkmate of mine at military academy. She was cunning enough to know I was hiding things, and it was not long before she yanked the wig off! After that she began to call me 'Fair Hair'. We served together for a time, but I did not re-enlist as she did. I have no talents with elemental magic, or nearly as much strength as she. Instead, I have found myself another profession- one better suited for my own talents.

"You are an assassin?" Vaythose puzzled.

"A good one," said Fair Hair. "Better than yourself, perhaps. You are Cathosa's brother then? You are Vaythose?"

"Yes," said Vaythose checking his daggers by instinct. One never knew when negotiations like these might go wrong. He waited for Fair Hair to recommence her speech.

"Your sister asked me to come as a favor. Cathosa warned me you were weak. She is anxious for you and feels you need help with your mission." Vaythose grit his teeth. He had been recipient to such words many times before. After all, his was a matriarchal society.

"All true," he said with humility although his eyes were gray steel. "I do have a mission coming up and my sister has as much as ordered me to gain assistance for it. Could you really be as skilled as an assassin as me?"

"Undoubtedly," said Fair Hair quaffing the remnants of her drink and holding her fingers aloft to order three others. "Cathosa and I have known each other a long time. I have heard from her many tales of your... exploits."

"All true!" said Cathosa, in person, as she strode forward and clapped her hand heartily on her brother's shoulder. Vaythose's face nearly lit up scarlet in shame.

"My dear little brother of mine always manages to fumble it up somehow. Somehow he always manages to make it out with a few nicks to his skin, but I fear one time his luck may run out. That's why I am asking this of you, Fair Hair."

Cathosa's voice was booming and sonorous compared to Vaythose's. Her brother's diminutive, hunched form faded nimbly into the corners of a room, while hers filled it. The dominance was effortless; personality driven. Just the same it was helped by her warrior's garb. Cathosa had the spiked high heel boots, peaked hair, and rigid leather armor of any matriarch. She also wore a fearsome, well-worn whip clipped snuggly to her hip. Behind the Dark Elf sergeant stood two smaller elves- younger and feeble. With a flick of her wrist Cathosa sent these subordinates shrinking to a distant corner of the room to buy their own drinks.

"Now then," said Cathosa downing the mug Fair Hair had bought for her in three hearty gulps. "Time to tell the barman to open the barrel with my name on it! Our friends are here!"

"Friends?" Fair Hair asked out loud as more of the underground city-dwellers entered the room. From amongst the crowd bustling in and out the door came a group of three persons. To one of these, Cathosa gave a heart grin, and another a respectful nod. "Abraham! Dear Roanna!" she exclaimed. "Glad to see you again in good health!"

Fair Hair watched dispassionately. A human male with skin nearly as black as night gave Cathosa a welcoming hand slap and shake before settling into a chair at the table next to them. A diminutive Dark Elf Priestess seated herself beside the odd human, and snuggled her cheek comfortably against the man's shoulder. She was firmly wrapped round her own shoulder by the wizard's right arm. The third companion in this group was a meager shop clerk whom Abraham had taken on as an assistant. Feebly, the elf nodded his head in greeting, and was silent. When welcomes were murmured all around, Cathosa lifted a glass, beaming. "Tonight we celebrate, Vaythose!" Her loud shout was nearly hair-lifting.

"Ah, the adventures!" spout Abraham with his own huge, wide grin. "Some of the best times of my life! I'm sure Vaythose will be fine, Cathosa. Just so long as he doesn't get stepped on by baby hydra this time!"

"Or seen by elementals! Skeet!" Cathosa broke out laughing.

"Hey, I'd like to see you walk past an elemental entity," Vaythose declared gruffly. "I'll bet the lot of you wouldn't even try."

"True enough, friend," the wizard Abraham said laughing. "But be careful all the same. Roanna and I would be happy to have you well."

Fair Hair watched the banter with mild patience. It was no matter to her what Vaythose did so long as he was to be a well-paying patron.

"I will meet you at the crossroads tunnel at dawn tomorrow, then" said Fair Hair dismissing herself. "If you wish for my aid, ride a lizard mount and bring four thousand gold. I will take one thousand gold now."

"Done," said Cathosa who had brought the gold along on behalf of Vaythose. She spilled open the sack and let her friend count every piece. "If you prefer, I'll give you credit. Four thousand gold's worth of soldiers out of my barracks! You will have the finest, don't doubt!"

"Such an affectionate sister you have, Vaythose!" Fair Hair said with a sly grin. Vaythose shrugged.

"She is a capable Dark Elf. You might say good fortune has smiled on me many times." But Fair Hair shook her head at the pair.

"If I spend a thousand gold on supplies or weapons or good armor, what will I then have left in my pocket? I will need at least half in advance."

"Tomorrow, you will have half, then. Abraham here can sell you any supplies you might need for a good price."

"Again, I would feel far better to have the gold in my own pocket. I have heard of this friend of yours- Abraham. He is wicked enough even to have cheat Sinatara herself out of pocket money."

"Yes, our friend is reckless enough to do it. So be it. Tomorrow I will bring another advance of gold, but buy your guards first! You don't wanna be robbed before you even make it to the city's gates!" But Fair Hair patted the now bulging gold purse at her waist.

"Don't worry. I have two poisoned daggers to make it sure I get home safely."

Fair Hair meant every word of it, for upon exiting the tavern, she climbed nimbly up the timber frame corner of the tavern. From here, she was able to run across rooftops with daggers drawn- just in case any of the tavern's eves droppers proved opportunistic. But even if aided by magic, few men or women of Ashan could possibly hope to keep up with an elf assassin. Fair Hair balanced and leapt across stone and wooden houses built deep into the dark of a mighty cavern. She made no beeline for home this time. There was someplace she wished to stop first.

In a stables in the cavern of beasts, a mount she had had her eyes on for months shifted in its pasture. It was early in the evening yet, and so she resoundly knocked on the stable keeper's door. Soon she was the proud owner of a fierce blue velociraptor. Its scales gleamed with a well-oiled sheen and the saddle its trainer had thrown in was a bargain- all for a mere five hundred gold. With five hundred gold coins still rattling round in her purse, Fair Hair had it half in mind to celebrate. But now was not the time. The mission she had been given began tomorrow. Whether it meant life or death for her, there was no way of getting out of it now.