[h3]Naysein[/h3]
[center]"For the first time in nearly two thousand years, I have no path."[/center]
[hr]
Goblins and Orcs. Tasteless, filthy, and utterly repugnant; more worthless and useless races she had rarely seen in her mortal lifetimes on this plane. What purpose did they serve? She had no idea, but she knew they could still kill her if she wasn't careful.

Now, as she knelt by the treeline running her eyes over their encampment she found herself wondering once again how she had come to this. A dragon, the greatest of the realms beasts, reduced to being worried about orcs and goblins who she would have once turned to ash without a second thought. Two goblins lay dead nearby, not a mark upon them, but blood leaked from their eyes and mouth to show poison had been at work here.

She licked her lips, she could still feel the oily film, that her breath weapon left behind when she used it. She had once forgotten about it and then watched in morbid fascination as a drunken male who had kissed her died in the mud with a bloody froth spilling from his lips. Since then she had done it more than a few times simply to amuse herself. 

Light flared briefly to the right and she moved at once, darting across the open ground and into the first line of ragged shelters. Orcs, as she well knew, were easily blinded by light, even if briefly, and it was useful to move when one of them threw a log on their fires. She wasn't much taller than an orc herself and the ragged cloak she wore would serve to confuse anyone long enough for her to kill them.

She moved quickly through the encampment, her nose wrinkling at the stench of the open latrine pits; how orcs did not die of disease always amazed her. Most of the orcs and goblins here were asleep, or sharpening weapons, muttering away in their guttural language that she understood but would never bring herself to speak. Only once did she encounter a more alert sentry whose eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. He opened his mouth to give a shout and died as a scimitar slid from its scabbard, sliced once, and slid home again in one fluid movement. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The ground between the encampment and the city was largely cleared by the garrison to provide a killing ground for archers. She crossed it by crab walking a long ditch that was held in deeper shadow, her hood pulled low. An army or even a large scaling force would have certainly caused the goblins to notice but a single figure darting through the shadows was completely unremarkable. 

The real problem came when she reached the moat. Reeds had grown tall here and the stagnant water almost smelled worse than the Orcish latrines. She looked up at the high walls and pondered her options before pulling out a small flute and playing a sharp tune. Within moments she saw the outline of a helmeted head appear at the edge of the crenellations. She couldn't see the eyes in the shadow but knew that they were probing the shadow. She caused a small light to flare in her hand, lighting up her face and the Imperial insignia she carried around her neck. 

The face vanished and she could hear a muttered conference before a knotted rope sailed over the battlement. She caught it before it hit the water and then gave a sharp tug and leapt toward the moat. High above her strong hands heaved and she shot skyward without ever touching the water. Her feet flashed as she walked up the wall until the crenelations were beneath her hands and she stood in a gap between the stones. Two soldiers faced her with crossbows levelled, though they lowered them as soon as they saw she was clearly no orc or goblins.

"Thank you for the lift fellows. Lady Naysein, to see the Prince." 

One bowed and gestured into the city. "Of course, follow me, lady."