Darksong- Warning, mature content.

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Aylstra Illianniis
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

It seemed the day had only gone from bad to worse, for a short time later, Shiallin called a halt to the practice, and commanded both males to follow her. Nalvir did so without a single word or glance at her, and she led them both back to her quarters in the servant’s spire. The young lad fought off a growing sense of unease, for he had a notion that she had something in mind for them both that he would not like. Not one bit.

As it happened, he was right. She slipped off her priestly robes, revealing that she was bare beneath; he glanced up at the Weapon-Master to see him gazing at her hungrily. She motioned for them both to join her, but this time he balked. No amount of coaxing or even threats would convince him to do what she was suggesting. Not now, after what he had endured at the hands of his other tutor. He backed away, even as the larger, stronger male loomed over him, coming closer with a look of absolute fury.

“Obey her, worm, or you will be sorry!” the scar-faced drow snapped. Lothir shook his head, trembling.

“Oh, by the Queen’s eighth leg!” Shiallin exclaimed, and reached out to pull him toward them both. “That idiot has done more damage than even he knew. Now it is left to me to fix it.” She muttered, more to herself than anyone. Nalvir had already removed his own attire, and was waiting on the bed with an expression of eager anticipation. She stared down at her charge thoughtfully, as if trying to decide what to do.

“Perhaps the fool’s influence can be- cut out?” suggested the Weapon-Master. She turned to him, regarding his idea, then smiled.

“Yes,” she replied. “That seems a good solution. The Goddess will be pleased.”
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Nalvir grinned wickedly, and grabbed the boy to hold him down. The young prince struggled, yelling and thrashing, while the Weapon-Master kept a tight grip on his arms, and pinned him down. “Heh, he’s a feisty little bugger,” he noted, as he got a kick in the face for his trouble. His fingers dug into the boy’s arms, leaving deep bruises, but Lothir didn’t seem to notice the pain; it only made him struggle all the more fiercely.

“Just hold him a moment, will you?” snapped the priestess impatiently. Then she reached down to lay her hands against his head, and she began a chant. He fought harder, not knowing what she meant to do, but somehow understanding that she was attacking him- in the most subtle and cruel of ways. He felt something probe into his mind, and realized she was doing something to his head, to the very essence of his being.

Several minutes passed, while Shiallin dove deep into the youth’s mind, searching for just a few threads of memory. She sent her thoughts down, moving along the strands of his own thoughts, until she found what she wanted. All it would take was simple tug here, a tweak there, to rearrange his memory of the morning’s events into what she wanted. She frowned briefly when she passed over the incident in the bath, but left it mostly alone. She knew that her work would be less intrusive if she altered only the necessary threads. She plucked and moved them expertly, like a spider rearranging its web, until she was satisfied. Then she drew back, looking down into his confused gaze, and smiled.

“I believe that will do. Let him go,” she said. The young drow sat up as the other male released him, and sat up with a puzzled look. He seemed to recall that he had been afraid of something, but now he didn’t know what it was. He stared from one teacher to the other, noticing that they were both undressed, and suddenly remembered where he was. The priestess was watching him, as if waiting for something. He shook his head, trying to clear it, wondering what had happened.

“Well?” she said, and gave him a pointed stare. “Are you going to do as I asked, or must I use the whip?” she said. He swallowed, and slowly removed the robe he wore- he vaguely remembered his mother saying something about putting something on before the ritual- then sat down to see what she wanted him to do.

The next two hours were eye-opening, to say the least.


He staggered out of the room later, weak-kneed and more exhausted and sore than he had ever thought he could be. Certainly the “lesson” had not been what he was used to. Part of him knew that she had simply been preparing him for what to expect from some of the more jaded Matrons, but he still thought it was distasteful. Jezdin might have hurt a bit more- only to be expect for the first time, the old mage had assured him- but at least he had been affectionate. He felt sad that his other tutor had been punished, though he still didn’t understand what for. He dimly recalled that he had done something wrong, but his mother had not said exactly what it was. But the sorcerer had always treated him fondly, and now Lothir felt sorry for his fate.

He was only too grateful to be left on his own, after everything that he had seen this day. He even skipped dinner, feeling more than a little depressed. Why did they have to turn everything he enjoyed into something cold and- he searched for a word to give a name to the emotion- wrong? It wasn’t fair. He wandered the halls for a long time, feeling lonely, and couldn’t even rouse enough enthusiasm to smile at Ravyn as she passed him near the library. He finally wandered down into the lower levels of the main tower, deciding to amuse himself by examining more of the treasures within the vaults, by way of the secret passage he had discovered.

He had not been there long, poking among the glittering array of strange and wondrous items that comprised the wealth of his House, when he noticed something shining brightly from a small chest in one corner. He went cautiously over to it, thinking one of the objects within might be magically trapped, but all he saw was a soft, silvery-white glow coming from something half-buried among the gems and jewelry and other small baubles in the chest. The first thing he discovered was that the glow came from not one, but two items. He picked up a small silver dagger, set with a moonstone in the hilt; it felt strangely warm, and almost seemed to hum happily when he touched it. He held it for a long moment, and finally decided to take it with him, for it sounded almost mournful when he put it down, as if it wanted to remain with him.

Then he saw a flash from something else in the chest, and poked through the contents until he found a large silver pendant on a slender mithril chain. It was shaped like a sword set point-down over a large circle with many tiny swirls around the disk. It glowed with the same silver light, and he felt a sense of peace and joy when he held it. Almost as if it meant something. The symbol was not at all familiar, yet he had a strange feeling that he knew it, or at least that he should.

So he took it too, then started back toward the hidden door that led out. He paused once more in the middle of the room, and eyed a large golden box set on a pedestal there. He had seen it many times before, and had always wondered what was inside. It had a large symbol in the lid, of a dragon coiled around a sword, and two words written above it. Telu’kirra, read the first, a word he did not know, for it was in elvish, and he was only vaguely familiar with the language. The other word, though, he did know. He had heard it spoken several times before- when he questioned Ravyn about his father’s past. Elterrinos. The true name of Aldan’s original House.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
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Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He eyed it for a long moment, and finally could resist the temptation no longer. He reached out cautiously to touch the box, hoping there were no spell-traps on it. It had no obvious lock, only a small needle-shaped protrusion where the latch should be. He studied it, as he had every time before, wondering how to open the box. He tried simply lifting the lid, but it would not budge, for it was sealed tighter than if it had been melted shut. He picked it up and shook it, and felt something move inside, but all he got for his troubles was a small jolt. It was enspelled to deter thieves, then.

He tried turning the lid, pressing the symbol, and even pushing and pulling on the tiny needle, but still nothing happened. Frustrated, he tried speaking the words, first in drow, then in elvish. He tried them backwards, but even that did nothing. He stared at the box again, knowing it was important somehow, and grimaced. Finally, he decided to try twisting the needle, hoping it might be some sort of latch. His fingers slipped on the smooth golden surface, and he pricked his thumb on the needle. He stuck it in his mouth to ease the pain, then suddenly froze in surprise as he saw the thing slowly slide into the side of the box. Then the lid slid open, and he stared down in amazement at what was inside.

The box was padded inside with a soft lining of midnight blue velvet, and lying nestled within was a large, blood-red gem. It was perfectly round, flat on the bottom, with a raised star pattern carved into it. The gem was nearly two inches in diameter, and glowed softly with a deep red light. He reached out hesitantly to touch it; the glow brightened slightly, the star flashing briefly as if winking at him. He picked it up, and it felt warm in his hand. He held it for a long time, turning it over in his hand and letting his fingers run over the smooth surface and expertly carved angles of the star. Finally, he set it back into its velvet nest, and closed the lid, making sure to lay the box precisely where it had been. It was a mystery that would have to wait for another day.


Some time later, he wandered back up to his own room, and soon realized how tired he was. So he got ready for bed, and was just slipping under the thin blanket when the door opened. Ravyn entered cautiously, giving him a long look. “I thought you might be hungry, little one,” she said, holding up a tray of left-over food from dinner. He sat up, nodding as she set it down on the small table by his bed.

“Thank you,” he said, before he picked up the plate with the roasted deep bat dripping with rothe cheese and sautéed mushrooms, and began to eat. She sat beside him in silence until he had finished, then rose to take everything away. “Wait,” he
said softly, and she turned back. “Could you stay with me, please?”

The slender elf woman moved back over, and set the tray back down. “Are you alright, my prince? I heard what happened this morning. Your mother was snarling all through her bath today, about traitors to the House and useless males. I might have laughed at her, if I did not fear her so much.”

He shrugged, as if it meant little to him. “What did he do wrong? I don’t understand why she punished him, or why she made me watch. He was always a good tutor, and he seemed to like me. Do you know?” he asked, and she found herself puzzled. Had he truly blocked everything out so quickly?

“Don’t you remember? How he- hurt you? What he did was wrong, little one. I was truly afraid for you this morning. You were so afraid. I hate them for what they did.”
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

“What do you mean? He didn’t-” he began, uncomprehending. He seemed not to know anything of the sorcerer’s cruel misdeed. Ravyn wondered how he could forget so easily. Had his mind been damaged after all, then? The thought of such harm being done to such a fragile child angered her; how dare they? Even the Lady Consort had hardly seemed to care what happened to the boy, so long as he could still be of use to her. It was beyond all comprehension to her that anyone could so blatantly ignore their own child, and all for the sake of their own desires.

“Tell me, what do you remember?” she asked finally; she had begun to suspect something was amiss. His lack of reaction worried her.

The young drow shrugged. “He showed me how to- you know,” he said, feeling embarrassed, though he could not quite say why. “It was different than with a girl, but that’s not bad, is it?” he looked up at her, wondering why she seemed so concerned.

She frowned, and sighed. This was not the boy she had held and comforted this morning. Something was wrong, she was certain of it. “How did you feel?” she asked, hoping to coax him out of his strange denial.

He thought for a moment, then frowned. “I didn’t really like it, I guess. Not like before,” he said. “Will you sing to me and keep me company?” he asked hopefully.

“Alright, little one. Just for a little while,” she said, and sang a soft lullaby while he curled up beside her. Soon he had fallen asleep, and she sat for a long time, simply watching over her young charge. She stayed, unwilling to leave him alone. Which was just as well, for it wasn’t long before he had begun to dream, and those dreams did not appear to be pleasant ones. He was whimpering softly in his sleep, and tossing about, becoming tangled in the blanket, as he fought something she could not see.


The drider was chasing him; he tried to run, but it came after him with fangs dripping, hissing its hunger, black eyes filled with a malignant, murderous rage. No matter how fast he ran, he could not escape. The thing caught him, and was trying to devour him, wrapping him up in its webs, and he fought, but could not break free. He felt a sharp pain that tore through his nether region, as the thing shoved something into him from behind; it erupted out of his throat, cutting off the scream even before he could make it. Then he heard his mother’s voice, spitting out a dark, vile curse, and he felt himself changing. He tore free, but could only shriek in terror as he saw his body distorted, corrupted into something unholy.

And still he was trapped in a huge web, with a creature out of his worst fears crawling toward him- the wicked goddess herself, come to tear him apart. It bit down, and he felt its venom coursing through him, burning like fire. He thrashed, but it would not release him. The drider laughed, but it had his mother’s voice. He was choking on the huge, sharp spike that the thing had skewered him with, and the web held him helpless. Just as he thought the demon’s venom would eat through him from within, something shook him. He finally woke, still thrashing wildly, eyes wide and streaming with tears. He looked around, only to find himself wrapped up in the blanket, with Ravyn holding him and rocking gently.

“Shh, it’s alright. It was just a dream. It can’t hurt you, little one,” she whispered soothingly. He kicked away the cover, and curled up against her, clinging desperately. She held him tight, while he let out all the pain in a torrent of tears.

“He- it-” he sobbed, but could not finish. He had seen a flash of something half-remembered- a feeling of being helpless, with the mage’s cold voice against his face, and pain, and…. He shuddered, as he realized the image had been real; it was not merely part of the nightmare. But how could that be?

“I know,” she said, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. She did not know what to do. How did one ease such pain? How did one chase away demons that could not be seen? She wanted to tear out the cold-hearted Consort’s eyes, to lash her with her own whip for such heartless disregard of her own flesh and blood. Better that he had never been born into so cruel a world, than to face the anguish of a life without love or compassion. She cursed them all silently, wishing the gods would smite them for their sins. But she knew her prayers would go unanswered- they always had. The only gods in this hellish place were dark and uncaring.

At last he fell asleep again; she stayed, still holding the boy gently, humming softly to him while he slept, hoping to keep his fears at bay. Eventually, she too, became weary, and fell into her reverie with her arms still wrapped around the young drow.


She was still there when he woke the next morning. He stirred, rousing her from her meditative trance; she looked down, and saw him gazing up at her with a sad expression. “Ravyn, why did he-” he began, but still his mind refused to accept what he had seen in the brief memory. He could not make himself think of what had happened, no matter how he tried to remember.

“I wish I knew, dearest. No one should ever have to endure such things.” She kissed him again, and rose. It was early still, but she had duties to attend, and she feared she would be punished harshly if anyone discovered that she had been with him all night, rather than in the slave quarters, where she belonged.

“Is that what Father does to you?” he asked, and she whirled, startled by the unexpected question. She turned to meet his worried gaze, and found she could not answer. She looked away; he slipped off the bed, and came over to wrap his arms around her waist in consolation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gazing up at her sadly. “I wish I could make him stop hurting you. I hate them all,” he said fiercely, and she felt him suddenly tighten his hold on her.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

“Perhaps someday,” she said, though she feared that she would be dead long before that ever happened. She had seen many other slaves come and go since the long ago night when her village had been burned, her family slaughtered by the vicious attack of Aldan’s raiders. Most had not lived long, being brutally used, whipped, beaten, even tortured for sport or sent to the altar as sacrifices to the loathsome goddess the Lady Consort and her kin worshipped.

Only the simple fact that the Lord Patron claimed her as his own personal property and had forbidden anyone else to touch her without his leave had kept her from meeting the same fate. He was a harsh master, it was true, yet she knew he kept her as a reminder of what he had once been- a living testament to all that he had lost. She was the focus of his hatred and desire for revenge against his former race, something he could vent his anger on whenever the mood struck him- which was often.

She sighed at last, then gently pulled away from the boy, before picking up the tray from the night before. “I wish I could stay longer, little one, but I must return to my duties, lest someone come looking for me. It would be bad for us both.” She said, and quickly left. He plopped back down on the bed havily, a flood of emotions warring in his thoughts.

He was left alone, then, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor in silence. Eventually, he got up, dressed, and prepared for another day. But today would be different; for he had decided he would never let himself be weak again. Lothir was angry at them all, and ashamed of his own inability to stand up to the evils he saw all around him. He wanted it to stop, but knowing that Ravyn was even more a victim of those evils than he himself had been made him realize that it would never end unless he did something to make it. He didn’t know what that something might be yet, but he did know one thing- he would have to become much stronger if he ever hoped to change things.


By the time he had finished breakfast, he had finally come up with a plan. He knew that his family wanted him to be prepared for the Academy when the time came to go there; he also knew that if he wanted to be stronger, he would have to study and practice all the harder, and learn how to use the magic he had begun experimenting with more adeptly. To that end, he decided the best way would be to go out into the tunnels he had found, and practice in secret.

So, after breakfast, he raced to the training room, a new sense of determination spurring him to delve into the day’s lessons with gusto. When Nalvir entered to give him his daily weapon drills, he found himself paying closer attention to the older male’s instructions than he had in the past. Each move was scrutinized, each parry and thrust studied and memorized. He still felt reluctant to attack when told to, preferring instead to remain defensive and let his opponent wear himself down, but he could see the need to strike if it meant winning. And he was determined not to lose ever again.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
Contact:

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He was all too happy when the practice and other, more disturbing lessons ended, and practically ran from the room to sneak into the former House Mage’s private lab and quarters to search for anything that might help him get past the aranea’s lair. He knew that she would not let him go in peace, so he wanted any edge he could get against her. Not that he was particularly eager to kill the shape-shifter, but he didn’t know how else to win past her.

He spent the next hour rummaging through the many spell-books and minor magical items for something useful. He found several that looked promising. The first was a simple ring of adamantine that would make him invisible when worn. There was also a small onyx wand that held a tentacle spell, which he had seen his former Master use on occasion against unruly creatures he had summoned. He even managed to find a few books that discussed various methods of spell-casting that did not rely on sigils or strange arcane materials.

He was intrigued by the mention of ancient arts that used sound and words as the source of magical power, for it sounded very close to what he had discovered himself. There was even one that told of an old elven magical art called bladesong, which it seemed was a form of combat that fused magic, song, and melee into one. The thought of such an art intrigued him, as did the treatise on something called “the song of creation”, which he discovered was supposed to be the music heard at the beginning of time with which the gods had created the multiverse. For those who found even a few chords of this powerful melody, it was said that incredible abilities could be discovered. The song could both create and destroy, could heal, kill, or cause almost any sort effect the user could imagine.

He took the books when he left the room, deciding to keep them. There were four in all, and all were concerned with the magic of sound and words of power, or with music as a form of arcane magic. He had even found a few spells that seemed more in keeping with what he now knew of his tutor’s own personal tastes, some of which made him snicker at their purpose. A spell to increase the size of one’s “assets”? It was almost enough to send the young drow into gales of laughter at the thought. More amusing still was the one that could cause a person’s clothes to fall off, which he had immediately found a use for as a future prank to pull on Morganna, as a sort of revenge for all the wicked tricks she had played on him over the years.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
Contact:

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

So he spent the rest of that day, and his spare time during the next, out in the mushroom grove practicing. He understood that only by defeating the aranea would he be able to explore beyond her lair. He didn’t know what he might find there, but anything had to be better than simply remaining trapped within the confining walls of his home. Or worse yet, to be sent to some strange place where he was alone and forced to obey the orders of others he did not even know.

By late evening the second day, he felt confident enough to tell Ravyn of his plan. Of course, finding a chance to speak to her alone was the difficult part, since she spent much of her time performing various duties around the House whenever her master was not in residence. She had told him once that she preferred it when Aldan was out to sea, for it meant that she was free of his attentions. The young prince had scowled at the thought of what those attentions must be like. In the end, he was forced to wait until after dinner, when his mother went to the temple for her evening rituals, and only a few other slaves were about in the dining hall cleaning up the remains of the meal.

He waited until she was away from the others, then slipped out of a shadowed corner, giving a tug at her sleeve, and quickly gestured in the silent hand language of his race for her to follow him. Her brow furrowed for a moment, as she glanced toward the others in the room. He put a finger to his lips, and winked at her with an impish grin. Curious, she set down the large, nearly empty plate of smoked pyrimo she had been about to take away; with a final glance to be certain no one noticed her departure, she followed him out the doors into the corridor beyond.

“Alright, little scamp,” she whispered with a smile once they were far enough away. “What is this about?”

“I’m going back,” he said, with a gleam in his sky-blue eyes. “I’m going out into those new tunnels again, and this time, I’ll get past that aranea. I want to see what’s out there.”

“Oh, please, don’t do this. You will only get yourself killed if you try. My darling one, I beg you to forget about it!” She pleaded, taking his small hands in hers. She pulled him close, for once not even caring if anyone saw. If something should happen to him, what would she do? She could never forgive herself if he came to harm, for she had grown far more fond of the boy then even she had ever thought possible. It was true that she hoped he might one day set her free, but what good was freedom if she was alone?

“I have to! I can’t stay cooped up here anymore- I want to see things no one else has, I want to do something for myself for once! I hate it here!” he replied fiercely. He knew that it sounded selfish and foolish, but he had tasted adventure in the dark winding passages, and now he could not shake the desire for more.

“But what will happen to me if you are not here, dearest one? I would be alone, with no one to look after. Who would free me if something happens to you out there alone? No one would ever even know what happened, and who would save me from your father then?” Ravyn said, tears beginning to fill her eyes.

“Don’t worry- I’ll be all right. I’ve been practicing, and I think I know how to beat her. Just promise you will keep this a secret!” Lothir did not quite grasp what she had meant, for it never occurred to him that she might have had any other reason for worrying than concern for his own safety. He looked up at her, and frowned to see her so upset. She was afraid; he understood that, but he also knew that unless he did something on his own now, while he still had the chance, he might never be able to break free from the demands and expectations of his family. And though he didn’t know why, that was important somehow.

Ravyn shook her head sadly. “You are all that matters to me, and I cannot bear the thought of losing you, sweet prince.” She asked, as she stroked his feather-soft hair. She held him, kneeling down to meet his gaze. “I fear I have done you harm, little one. I- I thought to try to influence you so that I might be free some day. But now I realize that was selfish, and I love you as if you were my own. Please, I beg you- do not go back out there.”

He took a step back, surprised by her confession. He felt a stab of something in his heart, and it was not so very different from the pain he had felt that day in the training room with Jezdin, or when he had finally realized what Shaillin had done to make him forget. Anger, grief, loss- had even Ravyn turned against him now?

“You- you used me!” he accused, and slapped her hand away when she tried to touch his arm. He stared at her in shock, his innocent eyes glistening with angry tears. She suddenly found she could not meet that gaze, and so she looked down at the floor. She did not deny it.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you.”
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
Contact:

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

The boy stared at her, angry tears welling up. He let out a soft sob, and pulled away when she tried to consol him. He glared at her, and she suddenly felt guilty for having been so selfish, when he was as much a captive of their dark, empty life as she. She opened her mouth to say something- anything to make him understand, but could find no words.

He turned, then, and ran up the long stairway to the library, where he sat for a long time, contemplating what she had said. Why, he wondered, did it seem that everyone only wanted to use him for their own purposes? He already knew his father intended for him to join him in his raids on the ships and villages of the coast. His mother, it appeared, wanted only to find some way to be rid of him. Even Shiallin seemed to have designs of her own, though what they were, he could not be certain. All he knew was that she had set her eyes on taking his mother’s place as Lady Consort of the house. He was quite certain that she would do so through treachery if need be.


He was still there much later, after everyone else had retired for the night. Eventually, he heard the soft creak of the door opening, and turned to see Ravyn entering with a candle. He glared at her angrily.

“Go away,” he said sullenly. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. You lied to me.” She paused just inside the door, a hurt expression on her features.

“Please, I know that you’re angry, but let me explain-” She began, but he merely turned his back on her, scowling. His silent rejection said more than any words ever could. “I never lied,” she said after a long time, moving quietly to sit beside him on the large cushion. “I do care for you, little one. I always have. I only wanted you to be happy. But I needed you, too. You are my only hope in this evil place. I only wish Morganna could be more like you, my dearest.”

“You just want to be free so you can go home. Why should I believe you?” he said, his voice bitter and angry. She had always been so kind, and now he knew why. She wanted him to set her free. Then she would go far away, and leave him alone. It hurt, knowing that her kindness had meant nothing. But it didn’t matter, anyway. He could not have granted her wish, even if he wanted to. Only Aldan had power over her, for she belonged to him, and he would never have given her the freedom she desired.

“I am a prisoner here, little one. It has been so long since I saw the sun, and I miss it so much. And every day I am afraid that he will hurt me again. Don’t you remember what you said two days ago? That you wished you could make him stop hurting me? I have endured such things for so very long, all I want is for it to end. Can you understand that?” She asked, gently squeezing his right hand, with tears in her eyes. He glanced over at her, and finally nodded.

“I suppose so. But if you went away, what would I do? I don’t want to be alone. No one else talks to me, or…” He began to cry, feeling as if she had abandoned him. Why did it hurt so much?
“I would never leave you behind, my darling. I love you too much. We could go away together, and both be free. We would never have to be afraid of them again. Isn’t that what you want, too?”

Finally he nodded again, tears still stinging his eyes. “But we can’t,” he said, sniffing. “Father won’t let you go, and I can’t free you. And even if I could, I’m not strong enough to protect us. Where would we go? How would we live?” He shook his head, shrugging, as he wiped away the tears. “We’ll never be able to leave- they would never let us.”

Ravyn brushed his cheek with her fingertips, knowing he was right, but still she could not lose hope. It was all she had ever had. “We must find a way, then. No matter how long it takes. Surely there must be some way. Your father is not immortal. What if something were to happen to him? He is gone so often, and so long, might he fail to return some day, perhaps? Or- perhaps you could even ascend to take his place….”

She did not know why she had suggested such a thing, but it was their way, after all, and she knew that in spite of his need to secure his own dynasty, Aldan feared that very thing more than he would ever dare admit.

The boy jerked away at her words, staring at her fearfully. “No! I- I couldn’t. I can’t… He’s my father,” he said quietly, a look of horror on his face. He knew what she was suggesting, and the very thought of it frightened him. He knew as well as she did that such was the way of things among his people, but he could not imagine ever daring to strike against his own father, no matter how much he might hate him. It simply wasn’t in his nature to harm another, least of all his own kin.

“Forgive me. I should not even think of anything so terrible. What if we just- hid away on a ship, and escaped?” she asked. She shuddered. Had the evil in this place begun to affect her, too? What hope, then, did the young prince have of remaining untainted by it? None, surely, unless they could both escape, and soon.

He shook his head, frowning. “Someone would find us, and bring us back.” He knew that his family hardly ever paid any attention to him, but they would surely notice if he went missing, and a slave along with him. As much as they ignored him, he was still important to the House, as the only heir to the Patron, not to mention for whatever skills he might one day contribute to its power.

“Then we shall have to think of some other way, my dearest heart. But for now, promise me that you will not go out into those tunnels. It is too dangerous. I don’t want to lose you, little one. You are far too precious, my prince.”

He scowled. “I have to. It’s the only way I’ll ever be strong enough to face them. And they’re sending me away soon- this is the only chance I’ll ever get to learn what’s out there. I want to make my own choices, but they won’t let me. Please, just let me do this, and don’t tell anyone. I promise I’ll be careful.”

She finally sighed, and nodded. “I can’t stop you, though I wish you would do as I ask. I’ve never asked for anything from you, but just this once, I beg you to think of what you are considering. No one would ever even find you if something happened. I could not bear to know you were out there somewhere, hurt, or….”

He nodded, but she could see from the serious look in his eyes that his mind was made up. “I know, but I know what I’m doing. I promise I’ll come back.”

She just shook her head ruefully, and gave him a sad little smile. “With such determination, I could almost believe you,” she said, and reached out to hug him gently. “But if you truly must do this, please be careful, and don’t be gone long. I do worry, you know. Now, it’s late, so off to bed with you, my brave young knight.”

He finally smiled, and hugged her back. “Thank you. I will. I love you,” he said, and suddenly reached up to embrace her tightly. They held each other for several minutes, before she finally pulled away, and sent him off to his room. He ran all the way, anxious for the new day to begin, so that he could continue preparing for the next trip into the mysterious depths.


A full week had passed since the incident with Jezdin and the ritual in the temple, and still he woke each night in a cold sweat, wide-eyed and breathless from terror. He could not escape the image of the former qu’el’ m’elzar(House Mage) being transformed into a hideous arachnid monstrosity. He understood that what the perverted old sorcerer had done was wrong, but he wasn’t certain if the crime he had committed warranted the harsh punishment that had been inflicted on him. In truth, he didn’t know which was worse, the mage’s offence, or his sentence.

He was determined to go back to Shelatchka’s lair, if only to prove that he could face her again. Somehow, after all that had happened in those last few days, he was less afraid of her than he was of his own kind, for at least he knew where he stood with her- more or less. But after the past few days, he no longer trusted anyone around him but Ravyn. She was the only thing in his life that made sense, and the only person who understood him. He had meant what he told her; he wanted to see the sky and the trees of the world above just as she did, and he hated the dark confines of his home, where nothing seemed to matter but power.

Even knowing that her kindness had been motivated by her desire for freedom, he could not truly fault her, nor could he be angry at her for it. Trust was a fragile thing, easily broken, and almost impossible to mend- he knew that now. Once gained, it had to be held carefully, lest it shatter. It was the same with hope. Of all those around him, only the elf woman had ever shown him respect, or listened to his own hopes and dreams. It didn’t matter that she had wanted him to free her- she still cared for him as if they were family, and that was all he needed.

After nine days- a full week- spent in relentless training and study, he had decided it was time to try again. Even the House Mage’s permanent absence was no excuse for neglecting his duties, it seemed, so he continued his more formal studies with Shiallin and Nalvir, still determined to face Shelatchka. The aranea awaited him out in the hidden tunnels, and he was eager to go back and show her what he was made of. Assuming she didn’t have him for dinner, of course.

So after his lessons were over for the day, he ran to his room, where he had hidden the items he had taken from Jezdin’s quarters and lab. He pulled out the small onyx tentacle wand, the invisibility ring, and a long sword that the sorcerer had intended to enchant, but still sat on his work table. Then he read through Jezdin’s spell books until he was certain he knew by heart the words of the spells he had learned. When he had done all he could to prepare, he set out for the fissure in the far wall, running all the way in his eagerness to get away to his own private domain. He had already begun to think of those hidden tunnels as his, for no one else even knew they existed, so far as he could tell.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
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Aylstra Illianniis
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

The way was easier the second trip through, for he now knew the path, at least as far as her lair. When he heard the dripping of water that signaled he was near, he pulled out the ring and put it on, activating it, then drew the sword. He had left his flute behind, afraid that it might get damaged in a fight. Instead, he had the wand, and he kept that ready, as well. He stepped silently into the small cavern, his gaze moving instantly to the web high above. As he had expected, she was there, sitting patiently in her spider form. He noticed with slight nervousness that there was a new cocoon in the web, the remains of her most recent victim.

He tread cautiously out into the cave, hoping he might slip by unseen. But no such luck was to be his, for he’d hardly gone three steps before he heard her voice. He looked up, and saw that she had taken her hybrid shape.

“Going somewhere, little man? I never expected to see you again. Are you that eager to die?”

He froze, realizing she could still see him, in spite of the supposed protection of his invisibility. She must have been using dark-vision of her own, he decided, and wondered why none of the books had mentioned it. He turned to face her as she descended on a thin strand of web.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, holding the sword out in front of him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Really? How amusing. I still owe you for the last visit, you know. You’re going to pay for what you did.” She advanced, and he moved slowly toward the other end of the chamber. He had only a few spells, and he hoped they would be enough to keep her from killing him- even though none was especially useful as a defense. They were more for distraction than anything else.

“What I did?! You tried to eat me!” he exclaimed indignantly. She simply laughed.

“And what did you expect, little morsel, hmm? And now you come back, and think that I will not finish what I began last time? More fool, you.”

At that, she lunged toward him, but he had his first spell ready, and cast it swiftly as he dodged her attack. He heard a satisfying shriek as his small light spell blossomed right in front of her. He had cleverly placed it directly on her nose, so that it would not only blind her briefly, but move with her, preventing her from seeing anything at all until she could dispel it. He ducked behind a stone pillar as she snarled out the words of a dispelling, knowing that her dark vision would now be useless against him. Then the cavern was plunged into darkness again, but he had already decided on his next spell. It was a risky gambit, to be sure, but he was confident that it would work.

“I am going to enjoy sucking the marrow from your bones, little elf!” she yelled out, looking around for him. Then he heard her call out a spell of her own, and he was suddenly pelted by several large, hard snowballs. He cried out in surprise, backing away from the area within the rain of frozen missiles. The snowballs hurt, but were more annoying than anything. He ducked around another tall stalagmite closer to the other tunnel, and chanted out his own spell before stepping back out from behind it, one hand held out in front of him. She spotted him almost instantly, but paused when she saw what was in his hand. A small sphere of bright golden flames glowed in his hand, and he held it out as if to throw it.

“Shelatchka! Don’t make me use this- I’ll throw it and burn down your web, or even at you, if I have to! I told you I don’t want to fight you, I just want to see what’s down that passage. Let me go in peace, and I won’t have to hurt you!”

She looked from the young drow to the fireball in his hand, and suddenly became agitated. “You wouldn’t dare,” she said uncertainly.

“Try me.” He cocked his hand back, ready to toss the flaming orb toward her. She paused a moment longer, then as if she had decided to call his bluff, she shot out a web toward him. He was ready for it, though, and tossed the ball straight at her nest, before ducking behind the spire again. She let out a shriek of fury as she saw the sphere hit her web with a small hiss; then the web seemed to blaze brightly as it apparently went up in flames. She did not realize the fireball had been illusory, and that in truth, he had simply caused the illusion to appear to burn the web, which was completely unharmed beneath the imaginary flames.

He saw the mass of web she had shot at him hit the ground, and used the distraction of the supposedly burning web-nest to levitate up to the ceiling, reactivating his invisibility ring as he went, now that the cavern was lit again. He found a small crevice in the rocks between two stalactites, and squeezed into it. Then he cast a globe of darkness down at an area of the floor near where he had been, directly over a rather sharp spire rising up from the floor. He hoped she would think he was within, so he could come down on her with his sword.

The aranea looked around, fury in her dark eyes, and spied the globe. She grinned wickedly. “Think you can hide in there, little man? That will not work. I’m going to kill you slowly for what you just did.” She stalked closer to the dark area, then suddenly seemed to hesitate. She looked around, and instead scrambled up the wall, climbing up to skitter across the ceiling. He gulped. Had she discovered his hiding place?

He was surprised when she moved directly above the globe, and suddenly dropped down into it. He was even more surprised to hear her suddenly scream from within. He cautiously slipped out of the crack he had been hiding in, wondering what had happened. The aranea continued to wail, and even began cursing angrily as well, though he could tell she was in some sort of distress.

Curious, he dropped slowly down to the floor, and let the darkness dissipate. What he found within was truly unexpected, though ironic. She had managed to partially impale herself on the stalagmite, and now she scrabbled helplessly as she sank lower down its length, thick ichor oozing from a wound in her abdomen just above her lower pairs of legs. Her head whipped about as she realized the darkness had disappeared, searching for him.

“What have you done?!” she cried in pain. “I’m sorry I tied to eat you- just get me down from here!”

He winked back into view, and moved close to her, glaring at her coldly. “Why should I help you?” he asked bluntly. “You were going to kill me; I should just leave you there. It seems only fair, after all.”

“I promise to leave you alone if you will just help me! Please!” She begged, tears streaming down her face now. She slipped down a little further, and moaned as the wound became larger. Lothir paused for a moment, considering. Should he help her, or just let her suffer? Then he remembered all the pain he had seen his family inflict on others, and felt ashamed for wanting to take revenge on her. His mother and the other priestesses enjoyed torturing victims before sacrificing them to their wicked goddess, or tormenting slaves who did not respond quickly enough to their demands. Even Morganna loved nothing better than to cruelly abuse anyone who displeased her. He refused to be like them.

“How do I know I can trust you?” he asked pointedly. He had already learned the dark lesson of betrayal, and that the people around him could not be trusted.

“I give you my word, I will not attack you again if you will get me off of this thing,” she said, still struggling vainly to keep from sliding down further. The young drow paused a moment longer, then nodded.

“Alright, but if you go back on your promise, I’ll kill you myself,” he replied, and she saw from the look in his eyes that he meant it.

Then he gazed at the spike, wondering how to get her down. She was much too large for him to lift, even if he could levitate up to pull her up from above. He pondered the dilemma, then he suddenly remembered the sword in his hand. The spire was narrow, and formed of soft, brittle limestone- perhaps he might be able to break it. He held up the sword, and stepped closer to the stalagmite. The aranea saw the blade in his hands, and suddenly shrieked in fear.

“What are you doing?!” she cried. “You said you would help me!”
“And I will, he said calmly. “I have to break the spike- it’s the only way to get you down. Just keep your limbs out of the way; I’d hate to cut one off by mistake.”

Then he sat the edge of the blade against the stone, high up where it was thinner and weaker, and swung back far to the right. He let fly with a mighty slash, and the sword bit deep into the stalagmite, breaking a chunk out of it and cracking the stone. He looked at it, and decided that one more good strike should do it. So he pulled back again, this time to the left. His next stroke took all the strength he had, and cut through the other side of the spire, to send it toppling over on its side, Shelatchka tumbling down with it. She screamed as she hit the floor, but it couldn’t be helped.

Quickly, the young dark elf rushed to her side, and grasped hold of the piece still impaling her. He pulled hard- so hard that he lost his balance and went flailing backward- and suddenly the stone spike was free. She glanced up at him, still lying prone on the cavern floor, holding her hands over the front half of the wound.

“There were some potions in my web,” she gasped out. “Find one and bring it to me,” she continued with a low moan.
He nodded. He ran over to the corner where it was suspended, still hung with the remains of her past meals. He looked up, wondering where they might be. Finally, he truned to glance back.

“Where are they?” he called out. He had seen no sign of any potions.

“They were in the packs of some goblins,” she replied, looking somewhat paler than before. He nodded again, and shot straight up, floating just above the web’s edge as he searched for the aforementioned goblins. Then he saw them, and quickly pulled himself along the wall until he came to them. He tore through the cocoons wrapped around them with the sword, then dug into the bags they carried. He pulled out two small bottles filled with a glittering red liquid, and swiftly pulled himself back out to drop lightly down below the edge of the nest. Then he raced back over to the fallen aranea, bottles in hand, and gave her one. She gulped it down quickly, then they both waited for the potion’s magic to take effect.

They didn’t have long to wait. Almost instantly, the gaping wound began to close, growing smaller with each passing moment. She soon began to look stronger, and her color returned to normal. The drow heaved a sigh of relief. H didn’t know why, but somehow he was glad that she had not died, for he felt oddly guilty for causing her injury.

“Thank you, little elf. I am grateful. Now, what shall I do with you, hmm?” She rose, still wobbling a bit, and gave him a devious smile.
He backed away, suddenly wary again. “Y- You promised,” he said flatly, though he had half-expected her to go back on her word. No one, it seemed, could be trusted. He held his blade up again, ready to face her.

She straightened, tilting her head to one side, staring at him almost thoughtfully. “So I did,” she said, and suddenly laughed. “Well, then, you are quite the brave one, aren’t you? Something has changed, I think. You could have killed me, or let me die. You did not. Why?”

He thought for a moment. “All I want is to see what’s down there,” he said, pointing to the far tunnel. “If I leave you alone, will you promise to do the same?”

She seemed genuinely surprised by his honesty, and perplexed by the single-minded determination of this most peculiar young drow. She studied him for a long time, then shrugged. “What is it to me?” she asked. “There is nothing down there for you but death, little man. There are far worse things in these passages than myself, you know. Hook horrors, carrion crawlers, and the like, mostly, but there are darker things, too. Oozes that will melt the flesh from your bones and leave nothing of you behind. Umber hulks, shrieker fungi, dark mantles. Even ropers and rust monsters like the one in my web. You would do well to forget going that way. Go home, little elf, before you get hurt.”

He shook his head grimly. “I’m not afraid. I’m still going.” He stared right up into her cold black eyes, then turned and calmly strode off toward the second tunnel. Shelatchka started to protest, then shook her head ruefully, sighing at the young elf’s bravado. Let him learn, then. He would discover all too soon that those who wandered alone in the Underdark nearly always met a grim end.

Lothir paused at the exit, glancing back over his shoulder. “Maybe when I come back, I’ll bring something with me. That way you can eat something besides me!” He grinned, then went skipping off into the darkness, singing a merry tune. The aranea only chuckled. [i:b5tzjvco]He’s going to get himself killed down there[/i:b5tzjvco], she thought to herself.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He had traversed nearly a half-mile in the cool, dark passageway, when he came upon the first side-tunnel. It branched off the main tunnel on the right, leading deeper into the earth. The cool stone walls made seeing difficult, even with his dark vision, for there was little heat to pick up, and the only magic he had left was his natural fairie-fire. He was unwilling to use it yet, for he wanted to save it in case he might need it later. In any case, he had nothing upon which to cast it except for the sword or himself.

The drow cursed himself mentally for not having thought to bring a light, though he knew that lights were dangerous, since they often attracted predatory beasts. He debated for a few minutes whether to take the side-path or continue through the larger shaft. At last, he decided to take the smaller passage. He marked it with a small piece of chalk he had brought along in a large pouch on his belt, then crept carefully down the narrow tunnel.

It snaked along for several hundred feet, winding through the dark. Then it ended abruptly, in what appeared to be a solid wall. He was disappointed at first, wondering why it should simply stop; then he noticed a small crack down near the bottom- a chunk of stone that had broken off and fallen into a hole beyond. It was too small to squeeze through, and even his head was too large to fit into the hole, but it was at least large enough to see what might lay beyond. He knelt down low and pressed his face against the edges of the hole, but all he could see was a large dark space, with no end in sight. The floor appeared to drop a few feet below, but continued on.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
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Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He began to tap at the edges of the hole with his sword, until he had broken off several chunks of stone. After a few minutes of prying and chipping, he finally had the hole large enough to slide through. He crawled on his stomach until he was beyond the opening; small objects poked up from below, jabbing him as he slipped through the gap. Then he got up and dusted himself off, looking around cautiously.

He sensed that he was in a large cavern, but it was too dark to see much more than a few feet away. He picked up a piece of rock from the hole, and tossed it out into the darkness; from the echo it made, he could tell that he was in a vast, domed space, which stretched at least a hundred feet. He could see the vague outlines of many protruding shapes covering the walls nearby like spikes jutting from a portcullis, in a multitude of sizes. Something crunched underfoot- the area of the floor near the hole was covered in some kind of hard, jagged rubble, with many small, sharp points beneath his feet. Further out, the floor smoothed into an almost flat, featureless surface, though it appeared to be slightly convex, rising somewhat toward the center.

He carefully stepped closer to the wall, and reached out to touch the nearest object, and was surprised to feel what seemed to be a long, hexagonal object with smooth, flat faces that met in a sharp point. It was nearly a foot long, and as big around as his arm. He pondered for a moment, then felt another one, which was similar, though much smaller. Every one he touched was more of the same, with some having fewer faces, but all were long and sike-shaped, or shorter and more blunt, yet still with the same basic shape. He had a flash of revelation- he was in a cavern whose walls were covered in crystals!

The young drow had a sudden urge to see more, so he used his innate power to create fairie-fire on the large crystal he had first touched. It lit up with a pale, silvery-blue radience; he blinked as the brightness dazzled him for a moment, and then looked around again. The sight that met him almost took his breath away, for he found himself in a huge dome-shaped chamber whose walls and ceiling were completely covered in crystals of every shape and color imaginable. Most were various types of quartz- amethyst, rock crystals, and rose, blue, or smoky quartz- but he also noted beryl of green, yellow and even red hues, as well as several shades of spinels and rough corundum.

He glanced down at the floor, and discovered that it was littered with broken crystals that had fallen from the ceiling, no doubt during earth tremors. However, the floor itself was one vast, smooth, glassy black surface, marred only occasionally by cracks or small round holes. The cavern was a gigantic geode, the bottom of which was an upwelling of volcanic glass that created a display of natural beauty unlike anything he had ever seen.

He stood staring in wonder for a long time, marveling at the amazing discovery he had made. There was no other entrance to the chamber- he knew without a doubt that no one else had ever seen the cavern before. And he knew with certainty as well, that he would keep it that way. This was his own secret discovery, a place he could make his own, to practice his skills while remaining hidden from the eyes of his family.

On impulse, he bent down and picked up several of the fallen gems. He gazed down in wonder, realizing that this one handful alone was probably worth hundreds of orbben. He smiled to himself, and slipped them into his small belt-pouch before he finally decided to leave the cavern. Yet he would return soon, and the next time, he intended to bring his flute. He had noted the way the chamber had seemed to amplify any sound within, and wondered what effect it might have on the flute, if only he could figure out how to play it.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
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Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Some time later, he had trekked nearly a mile from the side-path when he came across another small side-tunnel. This one was too low to walk in, being just large enough to crawl through, and appeared to have been dug by some large creature, perhaps a young purple worm. He marked it, then cautiously ducked down to his hands and knees, slowly edging his way through the long worm-hole. The burrow-tunnel was cramped even for someone his own size. There was barely enough room to creep through without bumping his head; anyone larger would have had to slide along on their bellies, and even then they might have become stuck if their shoulders were very broad.

He slid along an upward slope for what felt like an eternity, before he finally saw a dim glow of light ahead. He grew more cautious, for lights usually meant one of two things- either a patch of luminescent fungus growing nearby, or the presence of intelligent beings. Either could mean trouble. Many creatures were drawn to such fungal growths, and predators often hunted the regions around them for prey, while most intelligent denizens of the Underdark were hardly to be considered friendly. He knew that the grey-skinned dwarves known as duergar, squid-faced illithids, and even worse beings dwelt in the vast reaches below the earth.

As he slid closer to the exit, he suddenly heard a sound from beyond. Voices- at least four of them- and the sound of many muted footsteps were approaching steadily. He inched further, the better to discover who or what was coming. Soon he was able to discern the harsh, low voices of five males, all speaking in drowic. Curious, he moved closer, until he could just see past the opening into a large, smooth-walled passage. At last he saw a small group of dark elven warriors- all males, save one- all in black chain-mail or leather armor approaching, with their long, camouflaged piwafwis trailing behind them. There were eight in all, the standard number of a patrol unit. He could see from the symbol emblazoned on the fronts of the ones in leather that they belonged to his own House.

He listened as the patrol came to a halt not far from the hole, which came out at a slight angle between the wall and floor. He wondered how far he was from home, and why no one had ever ventured through the hole, for they did not seem surprised to see it.

“We rest here for the night. Karas, you and Zedarr secure the perimeter. Hathmar, you are in charge of dinner. The rest of you, get set up.” The lone female seemed to have taken it on herself to command the others, which wasn’t surprising, since as she was the only cleric in the group, she had the most authority, whether the others wished to admit it or not. They seemed not overly happy with the arrangement, either, and Lothir could well imagine why. As members of the male-dominated First House, he was certain that it must grate on them to be under the command of a female. The first two nodded and began to do as ordered, while the third simply turned and pulled some supplies from an over-sized pack, hiding his sour look from the female.

“Mistress Varr’ga, should we not block off the worm-hole, in case something else should come out of it?” asked one of the males, a grizzled older warrior with several battle scars.

“Aye, we’ve already sent four goblins in to see what’s down there, and none of ’em ever came back.” The one she had called Karas called back as he and another drow moved off to set up traps around the edge of the camp.

The young prince heard their conversation, and realized they were talking about the goblins he had seen in Shelatchka’s web. Well, he thought, there was one mystery solved. The goblins must have wandered into her lair by mistake, either as part of their scouting task, or an attempt to escape into the Underdark. But there had been only two- what had happened to the others? He continued to eavesdrop from his spot within the hole, wondering what might have happened to the remaining goblins, and whether the patrol intended to send more scouts into the burrow.

“If there were any more worms, we’d have seen them by now, fool,” snapped the priestess impatiently, while she dug out a small mat and a pair of candles and a spider-blade dagger. Lothir knew what that meant- she was preparing for the evening prayer ritual, to seek the Venom Queen’s blessing for the coming day. He knew that the priestesses usually prayed for her favor and magic at what would have been sunset on the surface world, for it was considered the time when her power began to wax through the darkness of night. Drow were, as a rule, blinded by the harsh light of the sun because of their ancient curse, so they tended to prefer darkness and shadows. There were those who had become acclimated to the light of the sun due to spending long stretches on the surface as raiders, but they were the exceptions.

“Fine,” answered the male, turning back to her, “but if another damned worm comes out of that hole, I’m feeding you to it.” He glared at the female. Either he was oblivious to the danger of such a comment, or else he was confident enough in his own power that he felt he could be as insolent as he wished. He was wrong.

The priestess did not even bother to reply; she simply uncoiled the long scorpion-tailed whip at her side, and lashed at him with it, a vicious snarl of fury marring her otherwise attractive features. The whip stung deep into his arm, and the male let out a pained grunt, his other hand whipping out his short sword, even as the one she had struck went limp. He raised the sword to attack her, but the old warrior stepped between them, his own blade already in his hand, grabbing the female’s arm as she swung back for a second lash, and brought his sword up to block the other male’s blow- all in one swift move.

“Save your strength for the creatures of the Wilds, both of you. We need every arm we have for this patrol- or have you both forgotten that we are to ambush that duergar outpost that so foolishly settled in our territory?” He glared from one to the other, as if daring them to dispute his authority. Apparently, the two realized he was right, and both backed down.

“Very well, Valefyrr, but keep that idiot away from me. The next time he dares to speak to me that way, I will cut out his tongue and offer it to the Goddess!”

He nodded, and turned to the younger male with a hard stare. Karas blanched, and dropped his gaze, turning away to return to his task in defeat. His red eyes held murder, though, and it was clear that he would neither forget this humiliation, nor allow it to go unchallenged for long.

“Mistress Varr’ga, do heal his arm now. He will need it to complete his job.” Valefyrr reminded the priestess. She started to retort, then saw the cold look in his amber eyes, and nodded. She turned back, and uttered a spell in a few harsh-sounding words; a pale, blue-green light shot from her up-raised hand to envelop the paralyzed arm of Karas, who simply made a small smirk of triumph with his back still turned to her. Lothir decided it would be a good time to leave, and silently began to crawl backward through the tunnel, away from the camp.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Going backward through the burrow was more difficult- and took even longer- than crawling forward had been. Eventually, he was able to exit the hole, and stood up to brush the loose dirt from his hair and clothes. Exploring the caverns was proving to be much dirtier work than he had thought, and he was fairly sure Ravyn would scold him when she saw the state of his clothes. His mother would probably do even worse. He made a mental note to carry a spare change of garments the next time, so that he would be clean when he returned from his forays.

After making a second mark above the burrow to indicate where it led, he decided to continue onward, although he knew it must be getting late if the patrol had decided to camp for the evening. He wondered just how far he had gone, for though the tunnels themselves had only wound a few miles from his home, distance in the Underdark could be misleading, with twists and turns that made the passages far longer than one might believe, and the tunnels often sloped up or down so that they might end up deeper or higher within the earth than where they began. With so many cracks and branching pathways, it was easy to become lost, and easier still to wind up in a region with no food or water. It wasn’t unheard of for travelers to starve or die of thirst simply from taking a wrong turn and becoming hopelessly lost, before finally running out of provisions.

Still, even with such dangers, the young prince was enjoying the journey far too much to go back now. He would go a little further, then, and turn back as soon as he began to get too thirsty. At least he knew there was plenty of water in the aranea’s lair, if it came to that. Perhaps there might even still be some usable rations in the dead goblin’s supplies.

He had gone another half-mile when he found a small grotto, with a stream running through it and large patches of various fungi growing around it. He even saw a few of the rare, delicate glowing flowers known as cave lilies near the water. He noted that the stream cut through a large break in the far wall, rushing along on a slight down-slope toward another wide cleft in the wall near where he had entered, before trickling off into the darkness once more. He took a deep drink, then sat down for a moment to ponder the stream. It was small, clear, and cold, but the direction and slope made him wonder if it was connected to the one that flowed through the cavern of Argos Hall into the cove. Perhaps it was even the same stream, he mused, as he took off his boots and dangled his feet happily in the swift, cool water.

After a few minutes, he tugged his boots back on and examined some of the plant-life in the grotto. The luminous fungi glowed with soft blue and green light that made the rock formations appear to sparkle from the water that seeped down over them. The rocks formed strange and wondrous shapes along the walls and ceiling, flowing down in curtains, waves, sheets, or stone falls, with many long, thin stalactites and stalagmites in shades of pink, white, yellow, and blue, with a few bands of red or grey here and there. Many were carpeted with strange molds and lichens, moss, and mushrooms in bizarre colors or shapes. Bracket fungi made little stair-steps up miniature stalagmite castles, some of them glowing eerily to light gaps and hollows like tiny windows or doors. It was almost like a wondrous fairyland world.

The drow noticed a few small round mushroom caps near the stream, and bent to pick one, noting the soft, leathery texture of the brownish-white ball. Puffballs, he thought happily, and broke it apart, to find a spongy interior with a heavy, earthy scent. He finally tore a small piece off, tasted it cautiously, then decided it was indeed what he had thought, and popped the pieces into his mouth one after the other, munching on the chewy white balls contentedly.

At last he picked a few more, then proceeded further into the Wilds, through the long, wide fissure at the far end of the grotto. The stream was shallow, and cut a narrow groove through the middle of the crevice, leaving a smooth course on either side. He followed it for several hundred yards, until it opened up onto a large, wide tunnel, much like the one the patrol had passed through, though perhaps not as smooth or well-traveled.

He had almost forgotten about the conversation between the patrol members when he came upon a narrow cleft that ran up the side of the tunnel from floor to ceiling, glowing faintly in his darkvision from some distant heat source. In fact, the entire tunnel was much brighter than the crack he had left behind; the cold stream had left the winding channel so devoid of heat that everything had appeared almost black. Now he could see quite well, though he still needed his darkvision to do so.

He was cautious of such a fissure, however, for heat was usually accompanied by volcanic gasses and molten rock, another of the many dangers of life deep beneath the surface. Sudden quakes could open cracks into magma tubes, releasing deadly gas or blasts of heat that could cook a person in seconds. Even worse, magma pockets could bubble up and flood tunnels with red-hot, liquid death, or block off long-used tunnels, forcing creatures to find new passages that might not even be safe to traverse.

Yet the crevice itself was not what had attracted his attention; Lothir had almost been tempted to simply pass by, when he noticed a small pile of debris on the floor near the lower end of the crack. Curious, he moved closer, and soon discovered that it was a pile of bits of cloth and metal, along with a small rothe-hide sack, heaped carelessly as if someone had simply left their belongings there. A large, dirty white bowl-shaped object rested on top of the pile, with strange protrusions on the front, half-buried amid the rest. He cautiously poked the pile with his sword, but nothing happened.

Then he crouched down to get a better look, and tried to pick up the strange white object. It appeared to be caught on something, so he gave a hard yank, and heard something snap as the object came away in his hands. When he looked at it more closely, he suddenly yelped, tossing it away in startled disgust.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
Contact:

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

The thing rolled onto the ground, and stopped with the rounded side up. He found himself staring down at the grinning face of a flat-domed goblin skull, with bits of dried, rotted flesh still clinging to the nose and eye sockets. He stared at it for a moment, then moved toward the pile beside the crevice, poking it with his sword once more. He heard a rattling sound, and realized the heap was the remains of a goblin. But how had it died here?

He was still pondering that mystery a moment later, when he stepped back toward the fracture, and felt something touch his left leg, just above his boot. He barely had time to glance down before it gave a sharp tug, and he was swept off his feet by some kind of sticky thread thinner and stronger than any rope, and so colorless it was nearly invisible. Worse, it began to pull him toward the fissure, reeling him in like a fish on a line. He dropped his sword as he fell, and it clattered to the ground nearby.

The young drow struggled frantically, grasping and scratching at the cavern floor to try to pull away, but the filament was far too strong, and held him fast. He looked into the crack, and at last saw what held him. Perched just inside the cleft was a gigantic, insect-like creature with many legs, the front two of which ended in large pincers. It had a long, nearly flat body- nearly seven feet long- covered in bands of hard chitinous plates that overlapped, with a softer shell on its underside. Yet the most horrifying trait of the thing was its long, proboscis-like snout, that protruded above a pair of large, serrated mandibles. The sticky line extended from its long snout, and was quickly retracting back into it. He cried out in alarm, for he recognized it almost instantly. A cave fisher.

He felt the cave fisher’s thread pulling him toward the crevice, dragging him across the floor to its waiting jaws. He tried to plant his feet, but to no avail, for the creature was larger and stronger by far. Desperately, he flailed about for something to keep it from pulling him in. One hand landed on the goblin skull; he grabbed it instinctively and threw it at the cave fisher, but the creature merely snapped at it with one pincer claw. It missed, and the skull bounced harmlessly off its shell. Then his hand closed on the sword, and he tried to hack at it as hard as he could.

He heard the creature let out a high-pitched screech, but the blade could not sever the line. Instead, it only seemed to enrage the beast; it darted out of the crevice, skittering on its spindly legs. He suddenly realized that the only way to keep it from drawing him into its jaws was to move toward the creature. So he scrambled to his feet, and rushed at the cave fisher. It did not know how to deal with its prey running at it, and the sudden slackening of its strand confused it even further. It finally released him, instead snapping at him with its pincers.

The drow jumped back, his sword-arm moving up to block the monster’s attack. It thrust at him again, its pincers clacking loudly in the echoing tunnel, so he backed away. Then he saw the creature rear back slightly, and suddenly the long thread whipped out at him again. However, he saw it coming this time, and dodged aside in time to avoid being caught again. The sticky line shot past him, striking the wall behind him instead. The cave fisher struggled for a moment before it realized it had missed its target. While it was distracted, Lothir let out a yell of triumphant inspiration, and rushed a few steps toward the monster, then suddenly made a mighty leap at the beast, landing atop its hard shell to stand in the middle of its back.

That made the cave fisher stop short- the prey was not supposed to be on it back! It tried vainly to snatch at him with its huge claws, but could not reach him there. Furious and frustrated, it began to buck to dislodge the drow; Lothir suddenly realized the precarious position he was in, and his grin of victory turned to a look of worry. He had managed to avoid its weapons, but now what? He would remain safe only until it managed to dislodge him from its back.

Thus, he did the only thing that he could think of- holding his blade above his head, point down, he drove it down at the cave fisher’s back with all his might. There was a sickening cracking sound as it sank in deep. Then the creature let out a screech of agony and rage, and thrashed even harder. The young drow’s feet slipped on the smooth plates of its back, but he gripped the sword’s hilt tightly, hanging on for his life.

After a few moments, he managed to get his feet back under him, and hooked the toes of his boots under the edge of one of the plates. The monster continued to thrash wildly though, and it was all he could do to hang on. He tried to drive the blade in deeper, even tugging it back and forth, hoping to do as much damage as possible. Unfortunately, he had no idea what to do next, for he knew that he was only safe as long as he remained on its back where its pincers and trap-line could not reach him.

Then the cave fisher did the unexpected; it stopped thrashing, and crawled toward the cavern wall, where it began to climb straight up the side of the tunnel. The drow became even more anxious than before, for now he realized that it meant to make him fall off from his own weight. He pushed down with as much force as he could, and finally he heard a crunch as the blade opened the slit in its shell further. The cave fisher shrieked again and climbed higher, the noise echoing down the long passages. The split lengthened as it climebed, the sword’s sharp edge and the boy’s own weight serving to slide it further down the edge of the opening.

Unfortunately, Lothir had not counted on the creature’s thick, greenish ichor spilling out of the crack in its shell to ooze around the edges of the opening. It left the chitine plates slippery, and the lengthening split in the shell was already causing the embedded sword to loosen. After a few seconds more, it had slid down nearly half the length of the creature’s body; the beast’s insides were fairly gushing out of the gaping wound now, making it nearly impossible to keep his footing.

Then it happened. The shell split even further with a sudden cracking sound, and Lothir found himself falling as the sword came sliding out of the huge wound, and he unexpectedly lost both his footing and his grip on the hilt. He flailed in mid air as he fell, letting out a cry of surprise. He had a brief glimpse of the monster clinging to the wall as he tried to slow his fall with his power of levitation- tried, and failed, for his magical gift had been fully spent- then he struck the ground, lying on his back with the breath knocked from him, dazed from his head hitting the hard stone beneath. The next instant, he heard an agonized screech from the cave fisher- and it suddenly came tumbling down at him, having finally succumbed to the massive wound in its back. It landed up-side-down on top of the drow; he felt a moment of searing pain as something inside him cracked, and then he lost all thought.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
Aylstra Illianniis
Legend
Posts: 1933
Joined: Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:51 am
Location: Texas
Contact:

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Hours passed. When he finally regained his senses, the first thing that he was aware of was a sharp pain in his chest, and a throbbing ache in his head. The next was a huge, heavy object pressing down on him, and the cold hard stone beneath his back. He opened his eyes slowly, acutely aware that every breath sent agony through his chest. Worse, he could not move his head, for whatever pinned him also covered his head as well, so that the left side of his face was pressed against the tunnel floor. In fact, he could not move any part of his body except for his arms. The rest of him was completely immobilized by the cave fisher’s huge bulk.

He tried to lift it, pushing up on the monster’s corpse with as much strength as he could muster; all it accomplished was to send another jolt of agony coursing through him. The creature’s body did not even budge an inch. He tried once more, hoping to roll it off, but it was far too large and heavy. At last he realized he was well and truly trapped. That frightened the young drow far more than his fight with the monster; unless he could somehow free himself from under it, he would die, either from starvation, dehydration, or from some Underdark scavenger.

Terrified of the thought of dieing alone and helpless, he did the only thing he could. “Help!!” he called, in spite of the pain that stabbed through his chest at the outburst. “Someone, anyone!! Please help me!!” He listened for a moment, but all he heard was his own echo. The tunnel was utterly silent and empty. He called out again, though tears stung his eyes from the agony. Still there was no answer.

He screamed for aid until he thought his lungs would burst, then kept yelling until his voice was too hoarse to continue. Eventually, he stopped yelling, and simply wept, now truly afraid. No one was coming to help him. No one knew or even cared where he was. The young drow cried until he was too weak to do even that. By then, all he could do was stare at the wall of the tunnel a few feet away, silently praying to whoever would listen that someone would find him before it was too late.


Several hours had gone by, and the cocky little dark elf had not returned. Shelatchka found herself glancing back at the tunnel he had taken, for perhaps the fifth time in the past hour. Not that she was worried about him- far from it. She told herself that she was simply waiting for her next meal to wander into her lair, or perhaps curious to know what sort of trouble he might have gotten himself into. She was quite certain he must be lost or dead, to have been gone so long.

She caught herself staring again, and shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh as she paced back and forth in her dark elven form. She should simply leave him to his fate, she knew- still, she could not help being a little amused by the young dark elf’s display of bravado, or his clever use of magic. She was not particularly malicious; in truth, despite what the young drow might have thought, she was not truly evil. Neither did she bear him any true malice or ill will. Her first attack against him had been nothing personal, being motivated by hunger more than any real desire to kill.

Even so, she could not help feeling a bit guilty for letting him leave, and a little distressed at the thought of losing her first intelligent visitor. After all, most of her “guests” were hardly intelligent enough to hold a conversation with, being little more than animals. To have a companion to keep her company…. The aranea sighed, realizing she was lonely. She continued to pace for a few minutes more, silently debating with herself. Should she go after the foolish boy?

Of course she knew he was probably already some monster’s meal, but she also knew that the stubborn and impetuous youth was the closest she had ever come to finding a mate. If he survived, perhaps in a few years? At last she shook her head, dismissing the thought, and made a decision- she would go find him, and hope he was still alive when she did. Shelatchka turned, and changed to her spider form, stalking off into the dark tunnel after the drow.
By the Dark Maiden''s grace do we meet. May she guide and protect us.

"Where Science ends, Magic begins." -Spiral, Uncanny X-Men #491

A link to my tales, including my Marvel hero!:
http://mickeys-tavern.com/index.php?showforum=188
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