In the Harian countryside, far from the capital city of Valnik, there was a village. This village was named Typnal, and it produced many mages. Indeed, the magic in this tiny village was enough to push back invaders thrice. Skeptics said that it was simply that many of the elite fighters came from here, but no one can ever be certain of anything.
In Typnal, there was a family of seven children and two parents. The father, Rakkahn, was a wonderous sorcerer. He performed the most spectacular displays of magic, and not simply parlor tricks, either. His wife was Glibra, a decent swordsman. She, however, fell in the third invasion of the barbaric Bopdok tribes. She had been heavy with child, then, and the resident doctors were able to save the babe.
The youngest of her father's children, the child was an albino. Her soft, white hair, and her translucent, pale skin marked her in no way that her pinkish eyes could. The doctors puzzled over her appearance for some time, for all of her six siblings were perfectly normal, blonde, brunettes, and red-heads. Was it only fitting that the child of a dead woman be marked with a body like death? Rakkhan seemed to think so.
Rakkhan named his final child Hiems, an ancient word for 'winter.' He loved her as well as he loved his other children, but soon, the elder children moved into homes of their own, and it was only Hiems and Rakkhan.
All of Hiems' six siblings found a very natural taking to magic. Thus, all six were mages as wonderous as their father. Hiems, however, only took well to the magics of ice and cold. Healing magic was a burden on her, and fire magic far more so. Therefore, Rakkhan showed her her mother's rapier and told her of her mother's feats.
Hiems took naturally to the sword. It was balanced perfectly for her, and she for it. She was brutal when she trained, often stopping right before she could kill her training partner. When she fought, she was cold, much like her namesake, and heedless. Within a few years, she could oust many and match a few.
By this time, Hiems was a young woman of about 19 years. She was as tall as any man, and her skin was as fair as ever. Her soft, white hair fell to her chin, and she kept it there; long hair was such a hassle to her. Her eyes were still unnervingly pink, but were developing a sense of blue to them, thusly causing them to be very pale purple, though always closer to pink. She held herself with great confidence and pride, and for good reason.
Not only was Hiems a good swordsman, she was quick-witted. Well learned, yet still very naive, she often talked to the travelling merchants who came to Typnal. They told her of the trials and tribulations of being always wandering, and she took it in thrills. Eventually, she decided that she needed to know the world. What good could she possibly attain by being a housewife, always overshadowed by her would-be husband.
Hiems left her father lovingly, for Rakkhan was getting on in years by now. He had left his prime a long time ago, and soon he would be naught but an old man, devoid of magic, for there are only so many spells a man can perform in his lifetime before it drains him. Despite this, Rakkhan gave Hiems his blessing when she departed, and he gave to her a fine black stallion named Quet and a bag of gold. He bid her fare well, and not to return until she found happiness. She kissed him, embraced him, mounted Quet, and rode off with her mother's rapier and the gold. She never returned to Typnal.
Hiems sits inside the tavern, sipping mead. Outside, Quet is tethered with other horses. He is but two years older than he had been when he left Typnal for the final time, but he has seen much, as has his rider.
Watching the patrons, Hiems notices a fairly pretty girl leave the tavern. Within a minute, two men leave the tavern, heading the same direction she had been. One of the men is rolling drunk, and the other is fairly sober, but with a glint in his eye that suggests he is plotting something with that girl.
Hiems rises after they leave the tavern, pays her tab, leaves her tip, and then takes her rapier from where she had checked it when she entered. She leaves the tavern, following the two men and the girl from a distance. Suddenly, the girl screams as the two men bear down on her.
Hiems unsheaths the rapier, running towards the three. She yanks one figure off the girl before kicking him to the ground. The other man she kicks hard in the ribs with the instep of her right foot. She pulls the frightened girl to her feet, and stands between her and the two men.
One man groans, and the other gets up quickly enough, rubbing his side where he had been kicked. "Oy, now, laddy. That wa'nt very ni'e, now wa' it?" the one who rose quickly asked.
Hiems scoffed, not very surprised that the man mistook her for a boy in the dark streets. "Nor was assaulting this poor girl. Get out of her, or I'll run you both through with this lovely little blade of mine." She grinned, her teeth as white as her hair. She knew her voice did not help in setting the mistake right, for it was strong and flat, not at all what a girl's voice should be.
The man who had groaned looked up at her with eyes that shone with idiocy, even in the moonlight. "Now see 'ere, lad. She was ours first, wa'nt she, Yulg?"
"She was indeed, my dear, sweet, Bant. Now, give 'er back, boy."
"There's something you two should know for your next life," Hiems said, readying her rapier. She paused for a moment to let them think what that might be for just a moment. "Don't make a mistake when you're being threatened." The blade of her rapier flashed out in the moonlight. It seemed to sing a song of the blood that flowed from the men. Bant was impaled quickly enough, and Yulg fell soon after, his jugular punctured by the tip of the blade. "I'm a woman, you morons," Hiems whispered as both fell to the ground.
Hiems then turned to the girl as she wiped off the bloodied blade. The girl was not much younger than she was, and yet she was by far more beautiful. Hiems had always been plain, and her coloration was frowned upon by society. The girl sobbed, staring at the dead men.
"There, there, now," Hiems said, soothingly, sheathing her blade. "It's okay. They're not going to hurt you anymore. Just relax. You're safe, now."
"That's what you think, little girl," Yulg's voice said, piercing the darkness. Hiems found an arm about her neck, red with blood. It held a small knife to her throat, and the stench of carrion wafted from the man's breath. "Perhaps before giving out advice, you should take it and see how it tastes."
"Oy, Yulg! We'll 'ave a feast toni'e!" Bant's voice called out as he rubbed his hands together, his eyes still stupid, but now full of hunger and desire.
"What the blazes are you two?" Hiems asked, glaring at Yulg from the size.
"Guess," was the only answer she recieved, and Yulg hissed it in her ear. "I'll give you a hint. You can't kill us at dark. You can't kill us at day. But we can kill you anytime, anyway."
Hiems immediately recognized the words as that of an inscription she had seen on a chest she had guarded across a desert. She looked at Bant. The man's flesh seemed pale, suddenly. He couldn't have bled that badly from his wound. Then she remembered the chest again. What had been in it? She couldn't remember.
"Do you know what we do with pretty little girls like your friend here?" Yulg asked, grinning. Hiems still had no idea what to expect. Something had been in the chest, and it had been something alive, for at night, the chest had rattled so. "Show her, Bant."
Bant readilly obliged, leaping onto the girl and pulling all her hair away from her neck. The girl tried to pull away, but Bant quickly held her about the waist to keep her near. He grinned, his canine teeth unusually long.
Hiems knew what they were. "Let her go!" she shouted, pulling her foot up quickly between Yulg's legs. He doubled over in pain, dropping his knife. Hiems whirled out, pulling out her rapier and slicing off Bant's hand. She couldn't kill him, but she could hurt him badly enough to save the girl. Grabbing the girl's wrist, Hiems runs down the streets. "Where were you going?" she asks as she runs.
"My house," the girl replies, her tone musical and soft.
"Which way?"
"Back there. With them."
"Stay at the inn for tonight, ok? I'll put you up." She opens the door to the tavern from which she had watched the girl leave. She ran up to the bartend, barely out of breath, and looked at him. "I want you to give this girl the safest room you have available. There're two Maudraks in the city, and I just seriously pissed them off." She empties her bag of gold on the counter, keeping but ten pieces, before turning for the door. The bartend leads the girl away, trying to comfort her.
Outside in the now-calm night air, Hiems unteathers Quet. She talks to him, telling him what is wrong with her. When the door creaks open, she spins, her hand mechanically going to the hilt of her rapier.
"Umm... Hi," a young man says, leaving the tavern. He is alone. His eyes are bright and cheerful, and he smiles to her. Hiems, for her part, watches silently and warilly, not moving at all. "I heard you say there are two Maudraks loose. We hunt them, my compatriots and I, that is. Could you describe them for us, please?"
"Their names are Bant and Yulg. Bant only has one hand. I chopped the other one clean off. I should think they're fairly hungry by now, for I'd also gored them both. What more is there? Maudraks can change their shapes at will if it will increase their chances of praying on virgin flesh. I assume you know that." Her tone is expressionless, and her eyes are tired. She needs sleep, but she would not be safe in this city any longer.
"Will you help us track them?" the boy asks.
Hiems stares at the boy in disbelief. Her face relays the message long before her her voice can. "No," she replies, mounting Quet. "I won't help you track them. They'll be tracking me, considering I cheated them out of two good meals tonight. You can follow me for all you want; I'm leaving the town tonight, and so are they, probably."
"We'll come with you." The boy is cheerful enough. "Stay right here. I'll go get my compatriots!" The boy disappears into the tavern again, and Hiems spurs Quet down the cobblestone streets, not at all wanting to stay and wait for the boy and his friends.
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