The chanting was awful. Her head pounded to the beat of the drums. The shrill chanting cut through her ears like hot knives. At times she felt her head would explode at her temples. After awhile she wished it would, at least then it would all be over. Her parents were horribly brutally murdered and she was taken from the burning rubble that had been their home. Now she was being held to a cold stone table by a large marble slab that covered her torso and what felt like most of her legs. Blindfolded as she was, she felt entombed. If it hadn�t been for the incessant drumming and chanting she would truly think that she had been buried alive. The chanting increased in tempo and so must have the dancing for the slab began to tremble both above and below her defenseless body. She labored with every breath.
Most of her captors had been the worst sort of demons and devils she could have ever imagined but just before she had been blindfolded she saw a human man, old and gnarled. By the look of him he was a leader or at least respected. They seemed to defer to him and some of the smaller demoniods even cowed to him.
After so many hours she lost all track of time. It was as if her whole life had been on the cold stone slab. She no longer knew which way was up, down or any direction at all. Her body seemed numb and hollow. She no longer cared. She only wished for an end.
During the final quarter of the 23rd hour of the ritual, the ritualist dancers- their backs bloodied by the demoniod�s whips- fell to the ground in a cascade of death. At the stroke of midnight, the 24th hour, the final demoniod lay dead. A withered hand reached between stone slabs, found cold flesh, and withdrew. Two armor-clad men lifted the stone slab and threw it aside, breaking it in two. Ceremonial herbs and other paraphernalia were dusted from the girl�s naked flesh and she was wrapped in blankets and carried away. Corpses were stacked like firewood and burned. The Wizard of course, had gotten away. The bodies of a dozen other girls were found nearby in a makeshift shrine, all failed rituals. The bodies that had not yet fully decayed showed signs of partial transformation.
When she awoke she was warm and the heavy slab had been removed and replaced by a cozy quilt. She had been dressed in a loose cotton shift and her head rested on a great pile of clean pillows. The young man who had been sitting nearby immediately rose to the door, spoke softly to someone out side, and then rushed to her side. He was young looking and had the clearest blue eyes she had ever seen. She removed her hand from under the blanket, reached up to her hair, and startled sat straight up in bed. The sudden movements made her feel dizzy and nauseated, but she ignored her physical distress as panic arose in her. Her once milky white skin was now replaced with a deep ebon hue and the short white fingernails that had been well worn with work were now sharp black claws more like talons.
His voice was smooth and deep and carried a tone of command as he eased her back onto the pillows. �Rest. Father Montgomery will come and speak to you about your- um- change.� He gestured at her, unsure of how to describe what she had become.
�Am I hideous?� she asked, her own voice sounding foreign to her.
His face softened seeing clearly how his reaction distressed her. �No, no not at all. I would say you are the most beautiful-� and then he stopped suddenly at a loss for words.
�Creature?� She asked, her gravely voice unsteady, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
�I�m sorry,� he said averting his eyes. �I�m sorry. Father Montgomery will be here soon.� He seemed truly filled with compassion, but he was holding something back. She wondered how she must look and she began to wonder if he was here to attend to her or to keep her prisoner lest she escape and commit unspeakable acts.
Father Montgomery was the presiding Priest of the border keep. The keep was well stocked with soldiers and paladins whose duties included patrolling the nearby roads and surrounding woodland areas providing protection from the roaming clans. As rumors began to filter back to the keep about villages and farms being invaded and in some instances slavery, he put his top men on the job, seeking information about who could be behind this new threat. He discovered that not only had the human settlers been hit, but the orcish and gobliniod clans had also been attacked on several occasions. His men eventually discovered the location of the slavers and the stone table they were using for what they had thought was some sacrificial ritual. He raised every available swordsman and sorcerer he could spare and led them to put an end to the group of slavers. It was pure luck arriving when they did just before the completion of the ritual. He overheard just enough to distinguish the ritual. The first part, involved transfiguration, the second summoned a major demon. The fact that the girl had survived the first part was a major thing in itself, but she had also been changed permanently. To attempt to change her back might mean death for her and he could not risk it in good conscience. He detected no evil in her at all; in fact he noticed a purity and innocence uncommon for this part of the world.
As the weeks went by, the changed girl grew in strength and restlessness. She began speaking of life outside the keep. Courtland, the young paladin who was beside her when she first woke up, had taken a deep interest in her and seemed saddened any time she mentioned leaving. Against the council of Sir Montgomery he swore he would leave the keep with her.
After a long winter, when melting snow raised the water level and many of the soldiers were patrolling the neighboring villages, orcish and gobliniod bands controlled by various demoniod soldiers attacked the keep. Father Montgomery and the young girl escaped through the catacombs below the keep and fled to the coast where they then brokered passage aboard a ship headed to (Insert big town here). Courtland, who had been holding attackers at bay so that they might escape, fell to the spear of a goblin marauder, but it was not known whether he lived or died. Surely the keep was overtaken. Father Montgomery died shortly after arriving to (Town name). It was as if the guilt over losing the keep and so many young lives had overcome his will to live.
