Private Silk and Feathers, Iron and Blood

The last week had lit a fire in Aranea's soul. Lebeda might have seen it in her - righteous fury. Barely contained rage. Perhaps even hunger. In the planning phases of this, with Lebeda, she had gone on a couple tangents about the people she would be using her brand new iron weapons on. Her emotions were on her sleeve.

Aranea wasn't doing this on anyone else's time but her own. She was not doing this rescue in a professional capacity as a scout - the scouts may not even know that this place existed. This gave her and Lebeda quite a bit of freedom she didn't normally get to enjoy.

Now, the two women had entered the fae realm where most of the kidnapped swan maiden slaves were kept. It was night-time. Aranea had found a wealthy fae home for them to target, home to a trio of enslaved maidens. Their owners, as these worms no doubt liked to think of themselves, could never have prepared themselves for what Aranea and Lebeda had in store for them.

Before they approached that home, Aranea turned to Lebeda. "Are you ready?"

Aranea nodded. Following along and keeping her voice low, she asked: "Can you sense where their robes are being kept?"

The last time she had snuck into one of these places, she hadn't been able to find the robes, and she knew she wouldn't be able to leave without them. Her fear was that those robes would be held elsewhere, where they would be harder to find - and from what she understood, leaving without those robes might be a bad idea.

Aranea pulled out one of the iron knives she was carrying and quickly spun some a line of spider-silk to attach it to.

Either way, this wasn't a terrible place to start. "I'll go in through the front entrance. Watch the back. Don't let anyone out who isn't a swan maiden." Just like they'd talked about. If any of the fae got out, they might come back with friends. Aranea and Lebeda didn't want that.

Somebody was knocking on the front door. This was more than a little unsettling, because their magic didn't tell them they had a visitor. Of the elves who lived here, Aimar was the closest to the door, so he went to go check who their guest might be.

His hand was on the doorknob when it burst open, colliding directly with his face. He stumbled backwards and fell on his back, hands flying up to his now-bleeding nose. Now, he could feel it - the iron. This person was covered in iron. He looked up and saw her, four eyes filled with righteous fury, chitinous hands holding an iron knife attached to a line of silk.

"You owe the maidens a debt," she said.

Confusion and fear washed over Aimar. "W-what?" Still covering his nose, Aimar scooted backwards across the floor, trying to build distance between himself and this terrifying... woman? Monster?

"You've wronged them," the woman continued, "and we're here to collect."

She was on him before he could protest.


They weren't ready to defend themselves from something like this. One of the fae men burst out through the back door. His unnaturally beautiful face was marred with an angrily bleeding gash. His hands were bleeding and burned from contact with something iron. His leg dripped blood as he limped. He fought through the pain, going as fast as he could.

Directly into Lebeda's line of sight.