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[Teh Glouris Lrod Kujabis]

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The time had come and gone, the man he was supposed to meet was late. The letter had clearly told the man to meet him at this spot in Yew. Just as he had made up his mind to depart, a man appeared on the path in front of him.

"You are late, Samon," he muttered, as Samon approached.

"Artius, I am sorry to have kept you waiting, but there is something you must see," Samon said, gesturing in the direction of Yew.

His curiosity piqued, Artius decided to follow without comment. Samon led him into Yew, weaving through buildings, looking around constantly. Just as Artius came to the understanding that Samon was attempting to find an individual that was clearly not expecting their company, Samon peeked around a building, stopped suddenly, and stepped backwards.

"Beasts," Samon said, gesturing around the building. Artius stole a stealthy glance around the corner. He saw a woman and a teenager sifting through the garbage. They wore dirty clothes that appeared like clothes that humans wore, but were made with high quality elven silks. Though they wore hooded cloaks, only the teenager had his hood up, whereas the woman's hood seemed to have slipped during her desperate search through the trash. Artius's lip curled in disdain as his eyes traveled over her pointed ears...

"Well?" asked Samon, carefully studying Artius's face as he stepped back from the wall, wondering if they both deduced the same thing, had arrived at the same conclusion.

"No traveling pack..," said Artius slowly, as if trying to piece it all together. "Searching for food, so close to the entrance to their city? Dirty clothes, that look unwashed for a fortnight? Yet not running as far from their home as they could..."

Satisfied that Artius had the right idea, Samon walked past him wordlessly around the corner. He leaned against the wall just as Artius stepped forward to catch up to him. He cleared his throat, causing the elven woman to jump slightly in surprise and look at him, her face flushing in shame at being caught sifting through garbage.

"I wonder why it is you would be sifting through the garbage?" Samon asked. The elven woman seemed to find Samon's question and tone of voice acceptable, as she relaxed somewhat a moment after.

"I... We... We're poor, good sir, and haven't had anything to eat in so long..." the woman said, her voice faltering as she glanced from Samon to Artius. After a few uncomfortable moments where the woman seemed shamed into silence and the two men seemed like they were waiting for her to elaborate before they replied, the teenager stepped forward.

"Do you... have food?" the boy asked. His elven accent and lack of skill at speaking the common tongue was much more obvious than the woman. "Please?" He looked at Samon, who after a pause, nodded curtly.

"Come with me," Samon said, and swept off away from the center of the city without delay. Artius and the teenager followed silently, the woman walking at a brisk pace to catch up after a moments hesitation. They walked on in silence for a while, the teenager darting away from the group every once in a while to look at something interesting.

Samon led the group onward to a section of Yew full of abandoned houses, their wood rotting from the swamp-like atmosphere they had been subjected to for a few years before the land was restored from its former corruption. The woman and teenager, knowing nothing of human lands, did not find this suspicious at all...

"We... We left. My son, I had to protect him, and..," the woman said quietly, watching her son run ahead to the house Samon was leading them towards. She caught Samon's eye, the look in her face plainly showing that she had the need to explain herself. "You see, he is not... My husband's son... I could no longer hide what..," she said, her voice trailing off at the impassive look on Samon's face. She seemed unable to continue, and chose to watch her own feet, deep in thought.

Between her teenage son looking at the deserted, run-down house in puzzlement, and herself looking at the ground, she did not notice Samon draw his kryss. Without a word or a pause in his pace, he brought the hilt end of the weapon down on the teenager's head, knocking him out with no more sound than his frail body made hitting the dusty ground. Looking up at the sound, his mother stared in disbelief and shock, as if coming out of a reverie. The human who had knocked out her son was walking at her; his neutral, pitiless gaze staring directly at her, she suddenly understood what he planned. Too scared to scream or even gasp, driven by nothing more than adrenaline, she ducked down and reached for something in her boot. As she made to stand up, she was struck by the butt of the kryss as well; she was far too slow for Samon's prowess with a weapon.

"This won't save you now, monster," muttered Artius, as he picked up the small dagger the woman had drawn from her boot. A closer inspection revealed that it was exceptionally sharp, though not very long; made for utility, not for battle, but brand new. He glanced from the dagger to Samon, and the two men nodded.

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Pain, pain in her forehead. Darkness. Shuffling sounds; things moving around. Sitting in a chair, hands bound together, ankles bound to the chair, bound there with soft silken bindings. Will opening her eyes make it true, or dispel this nightmare? One way or another...

The elven woman opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. Her first impressions were correct; she was bound to a chair. Her hooded cloak tossed aside near her, which appeared to have been roughly cut into a few strips, which explained why the cloth that bound her hands and feet felt so soft. Comprehending, but still disbelieving, she looked around the room. The two human men that had led her here, one standing silently to her side, the other checking to make sure that her son was bound to the other chair just as well as she was. It was in that moment, seeing her son, unconscious, bound just like she was, looking as helpless and doomed as she felt, that she understood her predicament, understood that the rumors about humans that the elves sometimes passed around were indeed true, and that she had no idea what horrors lie in store for her next...

Artius stood in front of her. In his left hand was the dagger the elven woman had attempted to use earlier. As she sat there looking up at Artius, she looked into his eyes briefly, then turned away. Artius leaned down, placing his hand on her shoulder. "There is nothing to fear. You will soon be where you belong."

He slid his hand slowly up from her shoulder to under her chin. She closed her eyes. He slowly moved the dagger towards her face, resting it on her cheek, he whispered quietly, "Now it begins." With that, he sliced at her cheek with the dagger. A gash, nearly an inch wide and quarter of an inch deep, appeared as blood began to run down her cheek. She let out a scream, which was quickly muffled as she felt the point of a kryss against her throat.

"If you scream, I will kill the other beast, and I will make you watch him suffer." Samon whispered into her ear. Artius moved the dagger over to the other side of her face, where he sliced again. Leaving an almost identical gash on her other cheek. "Open your mouth, beast." Artius exclaimed to her. For a moment, she seemed as though she would resist, but she noticed Samon taking a step towards her son.

With that, she opened her mouth. "Your tongue, out with it." Artius demanded of her. Slowly she stuck out her tongue. Artius placed the blade of the dagger center on her tongue. Without a word, he began to slice down the middle of her tongue. The woman fought back a scream, knowing what would happen if she did. Tears began to flow down her cheeks, mixing with the blood from the wounds on her cheeks.

Artius smiled, "In a few more slices, you will have a tongue like the snake that you are." He sliced at her tongue again, and again. She looked over at her son. "I pray he does not wake up to see this." she thought to herself. Blood running down her cheeks and out her mouth, she looked again to Artius. He kneeled down slowly in front of her. He placed the dagger down on the ground, and begin to slide off the old, worn shoe that covered her foot.

As he removed the shoe, there exposed were her toes. He took grasp of her foot. She tried to shake it away, even though there was no way she could get it free. He picked up the dagger with his left hand, his right hand holding her foot still. He slid the point of the dagger underneath the nail on her big toe. He looked up at her, a cruel smile appearing on his face, then he shoved the dagger underneath her toe nail. The nail ripped off her foot. Her head reared back as the pain took hold. Unable to hold it in, she screamed.

Artius craftily slid the dagger down to the smallest toe on her foot. Without hesitation, he placed the blade down on top of her toe, then with a quick burst of pressure, he lopped the toe off. Another blood curdling scream arose from the woman. For what seemed like an eternity to the woman, Artius cut and sliced at her body. Deep wounds and small slices covered her body. On the floor behind her lay the smallest finger from her left hand, a pool of blood surrounding it.

"Beasts feel no pain." Artius stated. "You felt none of this. All your screams, all the cringes, a trick to try and get us to believe you are more than just a beast of the land. You are no different than a horse or a mongbat." Artius dropped the dagger to the floor, turned his back to the elven woman, and began to speak with Samon. "This is the point that is lost these days. These beasts, they try and convince humans that they are of the same level as us." As Artius continued to preach to Samon, the elven woman began to use the last bit of strength. She managed to pull her hands free from their bindings. She looked up at the men, to make sure they did not notice her.

Feeling secure that they would continue their conversation, she slid her hands down to the bindings on her legs. Slowly she loosened them. With her arms and legs free, she spotted the dagger on the floor behind Artius. She leaned forward, picking it up slowly. With her last bit of strength, she began to lunge at Artius with the dagger.

The next thing Artius and Samon heard was a 'thunk', a shriek of pain, and a thud. Spinning around on their heels, the scene they saw was somewhat surprising; the woman was sprawled on the floor, as if she had tripped, her foot pinned to the ground by a crossbow bolt.

"Do continue. We'll talk more when you've finished," came a calm voice from outside the window. Concentrating on the task at hand, Samon focused his attention on the woman. In the corner of the room, he noticed an axe. It was old and rusty. He walked over, grasping the axe handle, he walked back to the woman. "Beast! You have shown your true colors as nothing more than a wicked creature! The time to end this is now!"

With that, he lifted the axe over his head, and with a quick swing, he brought the axe down upon the back of her neck. The force of the axe separating her head from her body.

It was a moment of adrenaline, of painfully sharp awareness, almost surreal. A second, a minute, perhaps five minutes later, the crossbowman walked in the doorway of the run down house.

"An' here I thought you two were just after a good time," he said, looking at the scene before him. "Was gonna kill all of you off if I thought you were about to make this thing have even more half-breed bastards." He paused, looking at the two, waiting for them to comment or react. "That is why, right? 'Cause her kid is a half-breed? S'what I heard you all talkin' about on the way here. Not hard to follow, yeh know," he said.

"You disdain the half-breeds as well?" Artius asked at last.

"Disdain? Heh. Feels like being the only one among many to see the threat. A world full of half-breeds, where humans end up a rarity? Elves want a new race, an' takin' the strengths of humanity to cover up the frailties of their own people sounds like somethin' they'd dream up."

Artius nodded. "Let us finish our business here, and then we shall go discuss this subject in detail."

The young half-elf stirred, regaining consciousness, just as the three men turned their attention to him...

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The young man was dumped at the front gates of Luna. Half of his tongue is cut out, and his ears are cut off. It appears he was dropped there, but crawled some way before the combination of blood loss, hunger, and the horrors he had faced took his life.