Darksong- Warning, mature content.

Roleplaying can be a great source for stories. But whether your stories come from roleplaying or whether you wrote them separate of anything else, this is the forum to post your stories. These stories can be funny, dramatic, epic in scale, of very small scope, or really anything you can think of. Note that this forum is for posting stories only. Discussions on stories and even just simple compliments should be posted in the Out Of Character forum or by sending a private message to the author.

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Aylstra Illianniis
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Darksong- Warning, mature content.

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Hi. I'm new here, but like all of you, I am a great lover of all things dark- elven. I have done a couple of stories about my favorite D&D race, and hope to add tehm in very soon. They involve a young drow by the name of Lothir, who has some VERY big "family issues".
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Wed Dec 07, 2011 12:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
Aylstra Illianniis
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Darksong

Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Darksong

Prologue- 19,483 A.S.


A young goddess gazed across the cosmos and sighed. So much work to do, so many souls to try to save from her mother’s dark influence. She had just sensed the creation of a new soul- one which could someday hold the key to salvation for an entire race, if only she could whisper the proper tune into it. She reached out across the multiverse to a tiny, unnoticed world, and plucked gently at the silver threads of the new soul’s life-essence, until they vibrated with a sweet resonance. She smiled, and hummed a soft melody to it as it slept, waiting to be born. Beside it she felt another new-formed spirit, but this one had the unmistakable scent of her mother. So it was to be war in the womb, then. She sighed again, knowing that only one of the unborn would survive, for she could not undo the wicked influence of her mother’s touch.
She continued to hum softly, and just because the mood struck, she began to dance, her consciousness reaching out to enfold the innocent babe in her warmth and love. On impulse, she drew it into the dance as well, just for a few moments, for it could hardly withstand the full power of her presence for long. But in that brief contact, a powerful connection was forged, and a love of song and of the dance. This one would be hers, she knew.
A smile spread over her lips, for the irony was that the soul was male, the antithesis of all that her mother respected and held worthwhile. Even more amusing- he would be the heir of his House, the most powerful house of his kind anywhere on this small world. He would grow strong and clever, with a skill in music and swordsmanship. This would be her gift. This would be her legacy to his people, if he learned how to use it.

---------------------------------------------

Warmth and darkness. Inside the cocoon of fluid comfort, two tiny, ebon-skinned infants slept, in the only place of nurturing they would ever know. Yet even here, there was no safe haven from the harsh reality of survival. For they competed for space within their mother's womb, and for the very blood that gave them life.
One of the twins, a girl, opened her ruby-red eyes and hiccuped; she kicked at her brother, searching for more room. The second infant woke and turned over, his wide blue eyes only half-open. The movement pulled the cord that supplied his needs partially around his neck. Seeking an advantage, the female grasped his cord in her tiny hand and pulled.
The boy began to struggle frantically, as the cord slowly squeezed his throat. In his desperate thrashing, the male caught hold of his sibling's own cord; his fingers grasped tightly and pulled hard, tearing it. Suddenly her own life was gushing out, swiftly putting an end to their battle. The female's hand loosed its grip on her brother's life-line, and he finally came untangled. At last he made a little yawn, and went back to sleep.
Outside, the mother felt the paigs of their internecine struggle, and put a slender black hand to her heavy belly. "One of them has died," she whispered to herself, a momentary sense of loss causing her to frown. Then she sighed, and continued with the prayer of blessing for the sacrifice to her dark goddess. It was the way of their race, after all- the strong survived, while the weak were pushed aside to perish.


----------------------------------------------------

Ten Years Later- 19,493 A.S.

Green and red fairie-fire lined the pillars and arches of the great chapel, while a solitary figure polished a huge obsidian statue in its center. The statue was in the shape of some monstrous female, with the lower body of a spider, a scorpion's arched tail, and the face of an elven woman with serpentine features and fangs. The small ebon-skinned boy had climbed up onto the statue's back to reach higher up; he was wiping dust from its face when he heard footsteps echoing through the huge round chamber. He looked up from his perch, to see an elegant dark elven woman standing in the entrance glaring at him with a look of disapproval.

"Lothir Ustdalharn E'Terrin'dar, what are you doing up there?! You are SUPPOSED to be CLEANING that statue, not getting your hand and boot-prints all over it!"

The young child climbed back down, chastised and contrite. She strode over to him, and cuffed him across one pointed ear.
"I couldn't reach!" he complained, rubbing his ear.

"THAT is no excuse. You must show respect and reverence to the Goddess in ALL things! You are noble-born, with the power to levitate. USE it , BOY!" She raised her hand to strike him again, and the boy flinched from the expected punishment.

"Ardra, enough. This ridiculous servitude ends NOW. He is the prince of the First House, not some lowly slave." A tall, imposing drow male strode in with a look of cold fury. He had piercing, ice-blue eyes- a color rarely seen in drow- and a grim visage, his silvery-white hair cropped close on the sides and top, with only a single long tail in the back. He was dressed in black, with a red silk sash around his waist and a cutlass and whip at his hips.

The woman whirled on him, her red eyes blazing. "He must learn his place, LORD Aldan, or he is useless! And prince or not, he is still just a male."

The boy looked up from one to the other with a nervous fidgeting of his hands. His innocent blue eyes seemed on the verge of tears, but neither of the two noticed.

"It is KING Aldan, Mistress Ardra; furthermore, I am ruler of this House, so I will say how my son is raised!" The drow roared at his Consort, causing a momentary look of fear to flash in her eyes. She gazed down at the floor in deference.

"As you will, then. But do not forget that he is as much my son as yours. He WILL learn proper respect for the Goddess and our traditions." She gave a formal bow to her mate and House Patron, privately seething that she should have to defer to an upstart male when most noble Houses were still ruled by their Matrons. "Lothir, you are dismissed from your duties. Your FATHER seems to think serving the Goddess is unworthy of a male." His mother nodded to him curtly as she left the temple, with a final glare in Aldan's direction.

Aldan glanced at the child casually. The prince was about the size of a human five-year-old, but with the fine features and slight build typical of all elves. His wild mop of snowy hair hung over his face, as the young boy cautiously met his father's stern gaze.

"Come, boy. It is time to begin your training. You must learn certain skills if you are to take your place within this family. Do you understand?"

Lothir looked down at his feet as he followed his sire out of the chapel. "Yes, father," he said contritely. He didn't understand why his parents were always angry, but it frightened him.

"Good. Do not disappoint me, or I will give you over to your mother and let her do with you as she likes. Do I make myself clear?"

The little boy nodded silently. They walked down a short corridor to another round room with stairs spiralling up through the ceiling above. He followed the older drow up the stairs, past several floors, to a small room that served as a study and meditation chamber. Inside were two others, a shorter, severe-looking male in scholar's robes, and a woman in a purple corset and a long black skirt, with her white tresses in a high bun. the two were waiting patiently; they snapped to attention as their Patron entered with the boy close behind him.

"These two will be your tutors, Lothir. Belkris will instruct you in numbers, strategy, alchemy, magic, and nature lore, as well as the basics of defense until you are ready for the Academy. Shiallin will teach you history, politics, language, and the cultures of the races we deal with. She will also be teaching you the finer arts of noble life. You will spend six hours with each of them every day- WITHOUT fail. I will be informed of your progress, so you had better not fail in your studies. Your lessons begin tomorrow. Do NOT be late! You are all dismissed." With that, he waved the three from the room. The tutors nodded and left, and after a moment's hesitation, the young prince did likewise.

With that, Lothir found himself with nothing to do for several hours- a rare treat for one used to spending most of his time in servitude to the rest of his family. So he wandered to his father's library, a place filled with musty old tomes and scrolls- many of them gathered from far-off lands long before he was born- where he knew he would be left alone. The room was seldom used, for most drow had little time or interest in reading for pleasure.
Inside, he looked around at the shelves, and levitated up to the very top of the nearest one. He looked through the stacks until he found a large volume filled with many detailed illustrations of beasts, monsters, and far- away places. He pulled himself along the shelves, digging out several other books- all similarly illustrated. He had not yet learned to read, but he enjoyed looking at them all the same. He dropped to the floor and carried his treasures to a large round cushion on the floor by a small hearth.

He lay down on it with the first book open before him, and began to study the pictures. He studied each one closely, memorizing every detail. some of them had the names of the creatures below them; he ran his fingers over the symbols of the words, engraving them into his young mind. Lothir had been blessed with a bright, inquisitive mind, and a near-perfect memory. He could recall even the smallest details of things he had seen or heard.

Soon he began to notice that many of the same words that named the creatures in the pictures appeared in the writing as well. He became excited when he realized he could read the words for dragon, dwarf, beholder, and several others. He jumped up and went to a small desk, and pulled out parchment and a quill, and began trying to copy the ones he knew. It did not take long before he discovered that many of them had symbols in common that made the same sounds when he said them aloud to himself.

Little did the young drow realize that he was doing something that even children four years older or more often could not do. In only hours, he had begun teaching himself not only to read, but to write, as well. And not only letters, but entire words and phrases. Once he understood the sounds they went to, he began putting others together on his own- and suddenly he was reading far better than a child his age would normally be able to.

If anyone had seen him at that moment, they would have been astonished by how easily he had mastered that most basic skill. But Lothir was bright beyond his years, and more importantly, he truly desired to learn.

He was lost deep in concentration, so he almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching the door. He hid the parchment and quill quickly, thinking that he might be punished if his parents found out he was in the room without permission using up precious parchment that was so rare in the dark caverns of his home. Then the door opened, and in came his sister Morganna. She smirked at him, her arms folded.

"There you are, little worm," she said. "Mistress Ardra is looking for you- it is time for dinner. You'd better be glad I found you first, before they learned you've been in here messing with Father's books.

"D- Don't tell them! Please, I'll do anything you want!" he pleaded with his older sibling, jumping up to hug the girl. Morganna made a disgusted face, trying to push her brother away. She hated the young boy, seeing him as a weak, stupid male who had by birth alone taken everything that should have been hers. She was older by more than twelve years, so by right of eldest child should have been the favored heir. Yet Morganna was only half-drow; though she and Lothir shared the same father, her mother was not the Lady Consort- not even a drow, in fact.

Aldan E'Terrin'dar had not been born a dark elf. He was one of the Nameless Cursed, those rare elves of light skin who had committed offences so great against their fellows that they were punished by being forced to endure the Dark Banishing. Thus were they transformed into the black-skinned drow, their sins visible for all to see, and their names struck from all records of elven history as though they had never existed.

Once, not long after he was so Cursed, Aldan had taken revenge against his former kin by slaughtering an entire encampment at the edge of the Silver Kingdom, leaving only one woman alive to be taken as his slave. Her name was Ravyn Bloodbane- and she was Morganna's mother. Thus Morganna was a bastard child, who by custom could not even take the name of her House.

This suited her father just fine, for young as she was, Morganna had already begun to exhibit a cruel streak to rival that of even the most sadistic of dark elves. She could often be found whipping slaves- her own mother included- for no particular reason, or catching cave snakes to skin them alive.
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Aylstra Illianniis
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

She particularly enjoyed playing cruel pranks on the slaves, such as putting scorpions in their beds, or using a grease spell on the stairs to cause one of them to fall. And always, when he tried to punish her, even with whipping, she would merely glare at him silently, with no sign of contrition or fear. He had long since given up trying to control her. With a child so vicious and foul-tempered, the self-made king had wisely chosen to look elsewhere for his future successor.

Naturally he had been doubly pleased when his Consort had given birth to a son. Most drow favored daughters, for only females could join the clergy of Lothrenya that ruled so much of their society. Yet Aldan's founding of a new House and moving it so swiftly through the ranks to the coveted place of First House had begun to change that- at least in some houses. A few noble families had overthrown their Matrons and allied themselves to him, forming a powerful coalition of disaffected Houses. Establishing a male heir had strengthened the position of the First House among its allies.

Morganna resented that- she spied on her young brother whenever she could, and found him to be too soft for a drow. He was properly respectful of customs and of his elders, to be sure; but when he was away from his parents' eyes, he seemed more like a surface elf in demeanor than any drow.

"I should just tell them you were playing in here. I bet Mistress Ardra would whip you. Maybe she'd even let ME do it!" she gloated, knowing her timid brother was afraid of his mother more than anyone else.

"Morg- I- I'll feed and clean up after your riding lizard for a week! I'll even polish your saddle!"

The older girl laughed, tossing aside her long black hair, its three distinctive silver-white streaks gleaming in contrast to the raven tresses she had inherited from her mother. "Alright, toad. But you have to scrub my hunting gear, too!"

He nodded mutely, his blue eyes wide in fear. Lothir was almost as terrified of his cruel sister as he was of his mother. He knew she hated him, but was still too young to understand the reason. He couldn't know that she considered his very existence to be an insult.

He rushed to put away the books, then raced down the stairs to the dining hall. As expected, his parents were waiting, and did not look happy. His mother yelled, then sent him to his quarters without dinner. It was only later, when he heard a cautious knock at the door later that night, that anyone came to check on him. He opened it to find the elf slave Ravyn standing there, looking about with frightened eyes to be sure no one saw her. The slave woman held a tray in her hands, with leftovers from the meal.

"Quickly, my prince- they must not see me, or they will punish us both!" she whispered.

Lothir did not have to be told who "they" were. She entered, and he closed the door while she set down the tray.

"You must be hungry. I saw how Lady Ardra treated you. It is unthinkable that such as she could have borne you, child." She stroked his soft hair while he eagerly picked up a hunk of rothe meat and a large, spongy mushroom dripping with cave-fisher jelly. He looked up into her violet eyes and smiled.

"Thank you. Why are they always angry at me? Everything I do is wrong. My sister hates me! Am I bad?"

The woman sat on the edge of his small bed; he climbed up beside her, hungrily munching away. Ravyn sighed. "No. You are so different from all the others. I think perhaps your father might have been like you once, before he turned to seeking only power. I cannot bear to see such innocence trapped in this evil place. Would that YOU had been my child, rather than that wicked little fiend I birthed. She is more drow at heart than you are, little one."

Lothir finished the rothe and mushroom, and took a piece of cheese and a cup of moondrop wine mixed with rothe milk. "Lady Ravyn, you're the only one who's ever nice to me. You're my friend." He hugged her, and she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"Shh, do not speak such things aloud, child. You mustn't call me Lady- not EVER. I am only a slave here. Our friendship must be a secret, or they would not allow it. Promise me you will never speak of it around others."

He nodded solemnly. "Alright, I promise."

She stayed until he became sleepy, and tucked him into his bed; Ravyn sighed as she left, wondering how long it would be before her cold-hearted master would change the sweet child she knew into a soulless killer like himself. Such a kind and guileless heart could never survive untainted for long, she knew. Sooner or later, the boy's world would make him into one of THEM. Though she was a slave, she could not help but wish to keep such a flame of goodness alive in such a dark and cruel place. She saw in the boy her one solace and hope of freedom; for if he understood love or compassion, he might one day be in a position to free her. If such a day ever came, she knew the gods would bless them both.

Lothir awoke early the next morning, both nervous and excited about his first day of lessons. He dressed quickly, then rushed down to breakfast and ate hurriedly. He remembered his father's words; he knew better than to be late. Then he raced to his father's study, where he was told to go to the large training room in the lowest level of the House.

He ran all the way, and stopped running only when he had entered the room, where Belkris stood near the door waiting for him. The dour older drow scowled as the boy approached and bowed breathlessly; he reached out and rapped Lothir sharply atop his head with a rod.

"Ow! I'm not LATE!" Lothir protested, rubbing his head.

"No. You are NOT late. What you ARE, boy, is impertinent! You will enter this room quietly and with dignity befitting your station- NOT like some wild rothe bull!"

The boy cast his eyes down to the floor. "Yes, Master Belkris. I'm sorry."

"Now, IF you can contain your exuberance, we will begin..." The stern drow waved absently, as though it was no longer of importance.

Thus began Lothir's first day of lessons; he spent hours learning about all of the things that made his people formidable, the knowledge and skills needed to survive and conquer their dangerous world. It was the first of many such days; as his father had promised, he was required to attend every day without question or excuse. At first, he was eager, until he discovered how utterly dull most of his lessons were. Even so, he knew better than to complain or slack off in his studies, no matter how boring. On the few occasions he was caught daydreaming, he was severely reprimanded by his tutors. Lothir learned quickly to fake attention, even when thinking of other things entirely, lest he end up with another lump on the head.

Days stretched into weeks, months, and then into years, with little change in the routine. Only once was there any real interruption- for after four years, King Aldan discovered that Belkris was a spy for a rival House that had been plotting to destroy E'Terin'dar. Naturally Aldan was not pleased. Belkris was immediately executed, and his head was displayed in a jar the next day while Aldan interviewed the candidates for his replacement.

The replacement- a gloomy sorcerer in his fifth century by the name of Jezdin- was, if anything, more exacting and less tolerant than his predecessor had been. Lothir, ever inquisitive, would often ask questions of his teachers; once he had even dared to ask why dragons, who were so huge and powerful, did not rule the world, or why humans ruled over so many lands, if they were as weak and stupid as everyone claimed. He did not understand why his teachers did not answer his questions, but always responded by beating and berating him for such foolishness.

He could not know that they had no answers. his innocent questioning had brought to light the essential flaws in their way of thinking. For in asking them, he had exposed the intrinsic arrogance of their belief that theirs was the greatest of all races. Yet he noted their unwillingness to answer him, and determined to seek his own. Thus he began sneaking into the library late at night to read those books from such far away lands as Iolia, Alron, and Deepvale.

Once he had been caught entering the library by Ravyn, who had come down from his father's chambers, bruised and with her long tunic ripped, on her way back to the slave quarters. He paused at the door, still holding it open, frozen in fear at being discovered, and worry at seeing her hurt.

"Little one, what are you doing here? You should be asleep!" she had chided him gently, even as she had ushered him into the room, away from prying eyes.

"I couldn't sleep- please don't tell anyone!" he pleaded. She closed the door and lit a candle, while he pulled a book from under the cushion where he had hidden it the night before.

"Of course, you know I wouldn't. But we mustn't stay here, or we will both be punished." The woman knelt beside her young friend while he sat on the cushion, with another candle beside him, and opened the book.

"Is that why you're hurt? Did you do something wrong? I wanted to read a story before bed- will you read it with me?" He looked up at her with his big blue eyes hopeful. Ravyn sighed, unable to refuse him.

"I was- punished, but not for doing anything wrong, dear. Your father is not a very nice person. He likes to hurt people." She did not know any other way to explain that he might comprehend. How did one tell a child about such things?

"I know," he nodded. "He hurts you a lot, doesn't he?" Lothir reached up to touch her face, frowning at the deep bruises, and the marks of a hand on one shoulder.

She only nodded silently, and closed her eyes to hold back the tears that threatened. The boy was still too young to understand what manner of "punishment" she had been subjected to. How long would he keep that innocence?

"Yes. I'll stay with you for a while, but we must not remain long." She had sighed, and sat with him while he read ancient tales of knights fighting undead dragons, and brave heroes battling evil sorcerers with armies of monsters.

"Are any of these stories true?" he had asked her after a while.

"Oh, yes. The one about Malvordain the Red was from the kingdom of Coldmire, back when it was called Lyseria. And Galdara Beriksdotter really lived- in fact, others have found her sword from time to time."

"Do you think I could find it?" he asked, excited.

"Ravyn only laughed. "Perhaps one day, little warrior," she said, hugging him while he looked up with his bright blue eyes shining with a glow of happiness. It was so seldom there that she cherished every moment they shared, for those were her only moments of happiness as well. "Come now, we've been her too long already, you scamp."

And so she had taken him back to his room, and every night afterwords, they had met in the library, where she listened to him reading the tales of other places, and shared with him stories of her own home in the Silverwood- like the human hero Lycus Firehawk, who a few years before she was captured had defended and later married the elven queen Zara Elrin. The boy was fascinated by those tales, and always listened with rapt attention. He was most enchanted by her songs, however. He would often ask her to teach him new ones, and then sing them back to her after hearing them only once. His memory and sense of tone were superb, even for one so young, and Ravyn was pleased by how easily he picked up tunes or poems. Truthfully, she was glad to see such happiness in him.

Time passed; the young prince grew, and before long, he was nearing his twenty-fourth year. He was now at the age where he was no longer simply a child, yet just barely beginning to enter adolescence. Dark elves aged much more slowly than humans or halflings, though not quite as slowly as other elves. Already he had begun the combat training that was taught every drow. In a society rife with treachery and murder, being able to fight one's enemies was essential to survival.

Lothir had taken most easily to fighting with blades, and had even managed to impress his instructor- a grim drow with a scarred face named Nalvir (for Jezdin, being a sorcerer, had little skill with weapons, and so Aldan had needed another tutor to teach his son the arts of battle)- when he discovered he could fight with two swords better than most could with just one. Soon he was spending hours learning the basics of combat to prepare for the day he would enter the Warrior's Academy for his REAL training.

In some ways, however, Lothir was still very much a child. He knew almost nothing of the complicated ways of adults- and of personal relations in particular. Neither of his scheming parents had any interest in teaching him about such things, and would probably have considered his "adult" education to be beneath their notice in any case. Aldan was home too rarely to even pay attention to the fact that the young boy was fast growing into an adolescent- and a very curious one, at that- since he spent much of his time on the sea with his fleet of deadly ships preying upon the villages and merchant ships of Anterris' eastern shores.

His mother, on the other hand, barely ever gave him a glance. She considered a male heir to be an embarrassment in a society that favored daughters. No male could enter the Venom Queen's clergy, and with their tight grip on the reins of power throughout most of their island empire, the clergy were the strongest power in Argonia, save perhaps for Aldan's own force of bloodthirsty cutthroats.

Thus Lothir was left to discover for himself the changes that came with growing up. Some he had accepted without a second thought; as he became taller and stronger, he found he could balance on the ropes of the narrow walkways that connected the stone spires of his home, or climb to ledges high on the stone walls of the great cavern that held Argos Hall. He even found he could swim in the cavern's cove as well as any of his father's most seasoned sailors, and was soon challenging them to contests on their occasional returns to the cove for rest and supplies.

Yet there were some changes that seemed to take the boy completely by surprise. The first happened one day when his tutor Jezdin had asked him a question, and Lothir tried to answer, only to have his voice come out as a high-pitched squeak after he'd barely uttered two words. The old mage turned slowly to glare at him darkly.

"If you are attempting to be amusing, boy, I would suggest you stop." He strode toward the young drow, and gave him a sharp tap on one hand with his rod.

"Ow! I wasn't-" he began, then suddenly squeaked again. He clamped both hands over his mouth, looking up at his tutor with eyes wide in fear. "I'm sorry!" he blurted- and his voice went through three separate octaves on the word "sorry".

"Enough of this nonsense! I will not tolerate such insolence!" Jezdin snarled, and struck the boy hard across one cheek with his hand, then leaned over him, red amber eyes narrowed in cold distain. "Now, answer me, boy, and if you dare mock me again, I will show you why it is unwise to anger a sorcerer!"

Lothir flinched, and tried once more to answer his elder. But halfway through, he made a croaking sound much like the cave toads that were sometimes found by underground pools.

Jezdin suddenly seemed to snap. "I WARNED you- now you will suffer for your foolish games!" He pulled out a wand from the folds of his robe and pointed it at the young prince.

Lothir saw the long silvery want aimed at him, and quailed. He let out what might have been a shriek of fear, if any sound had come out, and dived from his desk in a mad rush for the door, while a stream of tiny, firy red orbs streaked toward the spot where he'd been. They struck the desk, and made scorch marks and ignited where they hit. He heard Jezdin shout a few simple arcane words, and the door slammed shut in his face. He tried to scream again, but what came out was a strange broken cry like the high-pitched chatter of a monkey.

"S-stop! P-please, I'm-" and he croaked again- "I can't make it stop! H-help!" he tried to yell out through the strange affliction that seemed to have come over him. He could not seem to put together three words without making a squeak or a croak, or simply losing his voice entirely.

"Master-" he shrieked, "something is wrong"- another croak- "with my voice!" Again he ended in a squeak."

Jezdin paused, finally understanding that the boy was genuinely afflicted. "This is not some silly jest? You had better be telling the truth, or your father will hear of this."

"N-no," the boy began desperately, still unable to control the sounds he made. "I think M- Morganna put a spell on me- like the time she turned my hair purple for a week!" he managed to say through the cracking and sputtering of his throat.

The old mage considered. "Hmm, well, it is possible, I suppose. We shall see." He grimaced, then uttered a few strange words and waved his hands in the gestures of a simple spell. At last he gazed down at Lothir with a strange yellow light in his eyes.

"I see no aura of magic on you. There is no spell."

"I-if it's n-not(squeak) a s- spell, what is it (croak)?" Lothir asked, afraid of what was happening to him. "Am I i-ill?"

The old sorcerer frowned. "I do not believe so," he said, his gaze resting on the younger drow. "Just how OLD are you, boy?"

"I (squeak) just t- turned tweanty-four, Master," he replied. He still seemed incapable of normal speech, and was forced to take his time even to get out that much.

"I see. Well, then I suppose there is no help for it, then." Jezdin sighed.

"What is it, Master?" he croaked out.

"It is most likely your voice changing. You ARE beginning to approach adulthood, after all. It will pass in time, though I've never heard of it coming on quite so quickly or strongly as this."
"H-how long?" the boy asked hesitantly.

"Who knows? Weeks; months, perhaps. I could take as long as a year or two. In the meantime, to spare you any further humiliation- and my own ears- I think it best if you write out your answers when I ask you a question. Now- let us continue..."
Hearing that imperious tone, Lothir knew his teacher had dismissed the subject, so he sighed and tried to continue his lessons.

True to Jezdin's prediction, within a few weeks the young drow's voice settled into a tone deeper and stronger than it had been. Unfortunately, by then everyone in the House knew it was cracking, and Morganna naturally made him utterly miserable with her constant snickers and cold smirk whenever he tried to speak. Even Aldan had told him to keep silent several times over the weeks until it had passed.

Only Ravyn appeared sympathetic to his troubles. She would come to visit him in his room late in the evenings if she was not called into her master's chambers, and she would sing old songs from her homeland, teaching him the words to help him learn to control the frequent shifts from squeals to deep cracks that seemed to cause so much frustration to the young prince.

After a time, he began to notice the annoying cracks came less; then one day he found himself watching his father's ship- a huge war galleon with a large black sail and a figurehead of a drider at its prow, called Executioner- leaving the cavern's dock on another raiding trip. He sang an old tune Ravyn had taught him that was meant to ask for fair weather and calm seas. He smiled to himself when he realized he had made it through the entire song without a single squeak or crack. Elated, he laughed, and dove into the water, swimming after the ship until it had entered the tunnel that led out into the open sea.

Lothir had never been allowed to leave the cavern of Argos Hall. He wondered what it was like beyond that tunnel, where the great burning ball of the sun was said to sear the eyes of his people. For that reason, Aldan's ships always carried a priestess of Lothrenya to cloak them in darkness, both to shield their sensitive eyes, and to protect their weapons from the ravages of sunlight that made them degrade and turn to dust if left in it for too long.

He wanted to go with them, to see that wide expanse of sea and sky that Ravyn had spoken of in her stories. But it was not permitted. His parents had made clear that he was NEVER to go beyond the bounds of their House unescorted, and so far, no one had ever consented to take him into the deeper tunnels or caverns, or on the ships to the surface world. So the confines of that one cavern made up the whole of his world, and it seemed smaller every day.

Already he had explored all of its secrets. He knew every rock and crevice, from the deep crevasse of the refuse pits that ran into a long crack in the western wall, to the grove of giant mushrooms and glowing fungi that carpeted the southern end. There was even a small rothe herd that had been fenced into that area, complete with a small stream that fed into the cove, making Argos Hall one of the most self-sufficient Houses in Argonia. With its own water and food supplies, and only two entry points, the cavern made for one of the most defensible strongholds of any House. Not even in Terrillis was there another noble House as well-guarded or safe. And in spite of the size of its resident family, Argos Hall was also easily the biggest noble House anywhere in Argonia.

None of these things mattered to the young prince, however. He had long since discovered the secret entrance to his father's personal vaults, where he kept the most valuable treasures from his many raids. Once he had learned how to get past the traps and hidden doors, Lothir had made a game of seeing what he could find among its many glittering treasures. He had even managed to sneak a few of them out, to hide in a small box beneath a stone in the farthest corner of the mushroom grove. Somehow, keeping this secret from his family made him feel less powerless.

Life continued for the young drow as it had before, save that his lessons became more difficult as time went by. He spent long hours bent over musty tomes of mathematics, alchemy, and history. He read about the terrible wars with the cruel races of their surface cousins in which his people had been changed and driven from their ancestral homes to huddle in dark caves. He learned of how Lothrenya and other gods had whispered to them of how to survive and flourish deep beneath the earth, until they had felt strong enough to take back their lands- only to be nearly exterminated by the light-dwellers and their evil dwarven and human allies, and finally driven to cross the sea in search of a safe haven.

He knew the truth of it, of course. He had read enough of the books from Silverwood, Duskwood, and Even far-off Kitaka in his father's private library to understand that it was the "Dhaeraow" themselves who had begun those ancient wars. Ages past, they had belonged to those same races- the Cala(high), Mith (silver), and Taur (wood) Quessir. But they had turned on their brethren out of greed, jealousy, and spite. Entire clans had been torn asunder, and others had simply been slaughtered in the brutal wars that followed the initial acts of treachery.

Though neither side remembered what had started it, the conflict had spread from one kingdom to the rest, and had resulted in forests being razed, entire cities lost, and untold destruction. It was only after the clans responsible had been denounced and the First Banishing had been cast over them that the new race of Mori Quessir had been born.

Lothir sometimes wondered why Aldan, himself a recipient of the Banishing Curse, chose to live in a world that was so completely based on lies and perversions of history. It never occurred to him that Aldan had made it his goal to forge the quarrelsome drow into a force that he might lead to return to the lands of light and destroy those who had judged him.

The former Celeb Quessir had once been a son of a well-respected ancient line, but when a younger brother was chosen to ascend as his family's speaker over himself, Aldan had been consumed by a fury that led him to commit a series of murders and pact with dark powers that had- once discovered- led to the disgrace of his clan and his own transformation.

Where many others so Cursed fled in shame and died as ostracized, hated outsiders in hostile lands, or were killed for attempting to return, Aldan had grown stronger, sailed to Argonia on a stolen ship with a crew of murderous human and half-orc pirates, and quickly allied himself with one of the most powerful of noble drow Houses. From there it had taken only a few short decades to build his own base of power, hiring Houseless mercenaries and dissatisfied sons of other Houses into his growing force of thieves and warriors.

Lothir knew very little of the truth of his father, of course. Aldan never spoke of his former life or clan, and had altered his family name to reflect his defection. Even if Lothir had ever dared to ask about that past, he knew his cold and distant sire would never give him the answers he sought.

So he continued to delve deeper into the old stories and legends, searching for the truth, but finding only more questions. And little by little, a change was coming over him, almost unnoticed, but impossible to deny.

As days turned into weeks, the boy found himself haunted by a peculiar restlessness. He had a feeling, at the edge of his consciousness, that he could not quite name. More and more, be began to notice things which he never had before. He felt a vague stirring of- something.

He began to find himself gazing at Mistress Shiallin- at the way her hips moved when she walked, or the way her chest- which he sometimes thought would spill out of her tight corset at any moment- would rise and fall with each breath the haughty woman took. He sometimes felt uncomfortably warm when she leaned over him to check his progress on some subject or other. He tried his hardest not to stare, but he was becoming more and more distracted as time went by, without quite knowing why.

And then there was Ravyn. He had always felt a closeness to her that he never felt with anyone else- even his own mother. He had always found comfort in her gentle, warm embrace. Yet now he sometimes felt a sort of urgent longing to see her when he was supposed to be concentrating. And now, whenever she held him, he would press close, his arms around her waist, his head resting on her bosom, filled with a need to be as close as he could. Her touch, once soothing, now left him feeling vaguely empty whenever she left him. At night he would wake up burning, reaching out for something he could not name.

Then came a morning that changed his entire world. He awoke from a night of restless sleep and fitful dreams, that were both disturbing and oddly tantalizing to his young mind. He had dreamed that he was fencing in the training room with Nalvir, except that they were both naked, with Shiallin watching from a cushioned bench against the wall, also unclothed, waiting to reward the victor with spiced wine and sweetmeats, and to punish the loser with her scourge.

In his dream he had defeated his Master, only to have Mistress shaillin suddenly shoving him down onto the mat on the floor, sitting atop him in a way that excited and frightened him at once. She had bent low over him until her breath tickled his neck, and then....

It was then that he woke up. His skin was hot, and covered in a sheen of sweat that drenched the thin cover of his narrow bed. He felt as though he had indeed spent several hours practicing in the training room; he was no more rested than he had been before going to sleep.

Even more disconcerting was the throbbing ache in his loins. When he sat up and tossed aside the covers, he found to his dismay that a change had taken place during the night. A bulge beneath his thin sleeping-gown poked up, and he tugged it off quickly to see what was causing it. What he found was confusing and a little worrying, to say the least. It stood straight up, twice as long and wide as it had been before, and stiff as one of Nalvir's practice sticks.

Stranger still was the peculiar sensation that went with it. His face went ashen, fearing some new spell from Morganna, or a terrible illness. Had he spent any amount of time around the rough warriors and sailors who crewed Aldan's fleet, he might have realized it was noting more than a natural reaction to the provocative dream. As it was, his first thought was that it looked as though ready to burst like a boil. Worse, the overwhelming sensations would not seem to go away, any more than the disturbing condition that was causing them.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
Aylstra Illianniis
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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He didn't know what to do; he was worried, yet too embarrassed to tell anyone of his problem. He stared down for a few minutes, completely unnerved by the sudden change, the sense of discomfort making him more and more upset. He didn't know which frightened him more, the condition itself, or the thought of revealing it to someone in the hopes of seeking a cure. He didn't dare let Morganna find out- no doubt she would find some way to ridicule him for it.

At last he sighed, and not knowing what else to do, Lothir decided to hide it as best he could and hope it went away of its own. Besides, he could not wait for long, lest he arrive late for his lessons. He dressed quickly in his loosest trousers with a tunic that hung below his hips, with his heaviest doublet belted on over it. He hoped it would be enough to hide the worrisome bulge beneath.

Once dressed, he did not even bother to use the stairs, but simply stepped out off the balcony of his room, levitating straight down to the dining hall to avoid running into anyone. The last thing he wanted now was to meet one of his parents on the stairs, and Morganna least of all.

He raced into the dining hall. Fortunately, none of his family were about, only a few of the House slaves were busily setting out the morning meal. None of the slaves noticed him. Indeed, it was forbidden for them to look directly at their masters unless ordered, and so they purposely avoided looking in his direction when he entered.

He quickly grabbed a few pieces of rothe meat, cheese, and sliced lizard eggs, and stuffed them into a hunk of mushroom bread for his breakfast, then gulped down a cup of honey-sweetened milk and a few scallops freshly dug from the cove, which had always been a favorite delicacy. He was glad he was alone for a change- usually he had to endure his mother's constant harping on his manners or some other imagined infraction, or even the simple fact that he was male.

Once he had eaten, he dashed to the practice and lesson room to begin his morning studies. It was all the young drow could do to concentrate on his lessons, for the uncomfortable throbbing in his loins would not seem to subside. Every time he thought it was beginning to fade, his mind would be drawn back to the strange dream, and suddenly it was worse than before. Worse still, he felt uncomfortably hot, in spite of the fact that the temperature in his home never wavered. If not for the candles in the room that Jezdin kept lit for reading purposes, the old sorcerer's dark-vision would surely have revealed him glowing like a torch from the odd fever that had taken him.

He was relieved when it was time for the afternoon meal. He didn't even bother to go into the dining room to eat, but instead rushed from the training room, out of the Hall, and down to the cove as fast as his feet would carry him. He felt he could stand it no more; he threw off his clothes and dove into the cool water, swimming out into the deepest part of the dark sea-cave, letting the water cool his heated skin.

He swam for several minutes, enjoying the feel of the waves caressing his bare skin, even diving down to the bottom to search for sunken items of interest. Occasionally on such dives in the past, he had found beautiful shells, strange bones, polished stones, and even debris from wrecked ships. Once he had found the empty shell of a sea turtle, and another time there had been the peculiar jaw of a saw-fish. He had hidden them in his secret cache in the mushroom grove, and often spent hours using them as a toy shield and sword, pretending to slay monsters.

At last he climbed back out of the surf, tired but relieved. He glanced down, and saw that the strange swelling had receded, at least for the most part. He wondered again what had caused it. Perhaps it really was a spell? He silently cursed his malicious sibling, suspecting she had been behind the annoying dilemma. He pulled his clothes back on, and grudgingly went back to the training room for his afternoon lessons with Shiallin.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He regretted it all too soon. He had only been back at his lessons a short time, when Shiallin leaned close to oversee his work. He glanced up, only to bury his face in her ample bosom. Somehow, her nearness made the ache he felt grow stronger. He jerked away, afraid she would chastise him for his transgression. She scowled, and rapped his hand with her rod.

“Pay attention, boy. I said you were doing it all wrong- do you understand NOTHING?!” she growled in annoyance.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I haven’t been feeling well.” Lothir said hesitantly. He felt guilty, not knowing quite why it should be so, though he understood that it was forbidden to touch a noble female- especially a priestess- without her permission.

“Are you in need of a healer, then? Why did you not say so? What is wrong?” she asked, at last growing concerned. Shiallin had little patience for teaching a male, but Aldan had made it explicitly clear that she was responsible for the boy’s well being while he was in her charge.

He sat in silence, uncertain how to explain. He stared down at the open book before him, and picked up a quill to idly fidget with it. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, almost whispering. “I just feel- strange.”

She frowned, impatient. “That is not an answer. Explain.”

He shrugged, and saw that she was bending over to examine him, her red eyes narrowed. She placed a hand over his forehead, and raised one thin white brow.

“You are feverish. Have you any other symptoms?” she asked. He only nodded. “Well,” she said impatiently, “what are they?”

“Well, it’s- I can’t say. It’s rather personal.” he answered finally. He looked away, flushed with heat. “It’s- swollen. And it feels peculiar.”

She gazed at the boy thoughtfully for a moment, then made a little smirk. ”So,” she murmured softly, “the boy becomes a man.” She lifted his chin, looking him over carefully. At last she stepped back, and smiled oddly at him. “Come, young one. I think it is time to begin your REAL education.”
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

She strode toward the doors, and he followed, though he didn’t understand what she had meant. She lead him up the stairs for several floors, then out through a narrow door and across one of the stone bridges that led to the spire that held the slaves’ and House retainers’ quarters. At last, she entered a room with a solid iron door.

He followed always three steps behind, as he had been taught from birth- for Lady Ardra had insisted that he learn the proper place of a male in their mainly matriarchal world, as custom and holy edicts demanded. Aldan might be a de facto king, but even within his own House, his rule was not as absolute as he might wish. Lothrenya’s clergy still had too much power to ignore.

He looked around the room curiously, and saw that it was spacious, comfortable, and above all, pleasing to the senses. A musky incense pervaded the air, and candles were scattered about to give a soft light. The large bed was piled with soft pillows and covered by sheets of fine spider-silk in shades of red and black. There was even a small crystal decanter of mushroom wine with a set of goblets on a tray on the table by the bed.

Shiallin moved over to the table and poured out two cups of the wine. She handed him one. "Drink," she said softly. "It will ease your nerves, young one." Her haughty gaze swept over him again, and suddenly the boy felt like a bug under her scrutiny.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

He gulped it down quickly almost choking on the strong, heady stuff, as he was not used to taking it straight. Always before, it had been diluted with water or milk. Now it seemed to go straight to his head, making him feel slightly giddy, for he hadn’t eaten since morning, and had been swimming besides. The incense was having some strange effect as well, leaving him in a warm, half-dazed stupor. He shook his head, trying to clear away the strange bewilderment.

“Undress,” she said, and he knew it was a command.

“What?” he asked, puzzled.

“Well, surely you didn’t think we would do this with our clothes on?” she answered impatiently.

“D- do what?” he asked, confused.

She stared at him in disbelief, as though wondering how anyone could be so dense. “Are you saying you do not know?!” she responded, scowling.

“Am I supposed to?” He asked simply, shrugging. She merely rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Goddess forbid I should have to explain! Tell me that you at least know something of anatomy and life cycles.” She stood with her hands on her hips, one foot tapping impatiently. He gulped, and nodded slowly.

“Uh, Master Jezdin taught me the names and uses of various organs of magical beasts for spell casting; and, um, I’ve been learning about vital points from Master Nalvir.” He shrugged, and gazed up at her hopefully.

“Oh, by the Goddess! It seems I shall have to have words with Master Jezdin about his lack of attention to his duties. Why can those louts not teach you something USEFUL…?” she said, shaking her head with an annoyed grimace. “And what else has that idiot mage taught you? Do you know of reproduction?”

Lothir thought for a moment. “You mean, like how the rothe breed and give birth?”

Shiallin held a hand up to her forehead as if in pain. “A Lothrenya’s laelar daur! Stupid, useless males… Well, I suppose it is a place to start.” She paused in her tirade for a moment, then turned to him again. “Well?” she said impatiently. “Did you not hear me, boy? I told you to disrobe!”

“Y- yes, Mistress,” he replied, still uncertain why she wanted him to undress. He wanted to ask what rothe had to do with anything, but was wise enough to remain silent.

Hesitantly, he removed his doublet and tunic, and the soft, low-cut boots he always wore- not that he truly needed them in the Hall, but he wore them for his frequent explorations of the cavern. He had recently discovered a small crack in the south-eastern wall that led into a low, narrow side tunnel. He had even planned to take a lantern and see where it led after his lessons. Now he wondered if he would even get the chance.

He paused, suddenly more nervous than ever. She was watching him with a cool, impassive expression, which only served to increase the boy’s uncertainty. He wore only his loose breeches, still belted. Trembling, he stared down at the floor. The young prince had never been naked around another before; now he was afraid to expose himself to her.

“All of it,” she said after a moment, seeing his reluctance.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

At last he did as asked, and stood before her silently with his head down in indignity, utterly unnerved by the situation. He knew nothing of what she wanted, only that it seemed to involve himself naked, and- rothe? She moved closer, slowly circling him, and he was reminded of the sharks that sometimes found their way into the cove. She had the same predatory, almost hungry look, and he tensed , even flinched away when he felt her lightly run her fingers down his back from behind.

“Well, now. Impressive for one so young. So perfect. How wonderful- I think I will enjoy this…” she purred softly, and came around to face him once more. Then something happened that almost made the boy faint. Shiallin unlaced her corset and tossed it aside, then slipped out of her long skirt and slippers. She raised one hand to her head, then let down her long silvery-white hair so that it fell past her bare shoulders. His breath caught in his throat, as he had a sense of deja’ vu. She was just as she had been in his dream.

He felt himself shaking like a leaf in a wind, though whether from fear or some pervers sort of excitement, he could not tell. The incense had dulled his mind, and the strong wine made him feel fluttery inside. And then there was that odd, persistent throb from his nether parts, which seemed to have once again enlarged like a swollen tick. And felt just as ready to pop, as well. That thought, more than any other, terrified him.

At last she stepped close- so close he could feel the brush of her skin against his- and gently took his hands, leading him slowly back toward the bed. Her ruby-red eyes gleamed with a dark hunger, and he wondered what she meant to do. Lothir had seen corpses being taken from the temple after ceremonies on occasion, and they were always torn and bloody, mutilated as if some terrible creature had devoured them. He knew, also, that she often was a part of those dark rites, that no male was ever permitted to watch.

He swallowed. Did she and the other priestesses eat those hapless victims of the sacrifices? Was that what she meant to do to him? But she only pushed him down onto the edge of the bed, then sat close beside him.

"Now, boy, it is time for a new lesson. One that I think you will like." She smiled, and pressed her hand against his chest, pushing him backward until he was lying with only his knees hanging over the side. She moved over him, crouching low on her knees while one hand began to slowly trail downward....
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Then her hand closed around him, and the boy let out a gasp of surprise. She stroked lightly with her fingers, even raking with her nails ever so slightly, until he could hardly stand the sweet ache that resulted. Shiallin took hold of his hands, and began to guide them over her bare curves with a satisfied smirk.

He lay as if frozen, utterly at a loss. He gazed up at her questioningly, but the older woman gave no hint of what she expected of him. She bent low, and suddenly he felt her lips where her hand had been, and he whimpered softly, his body shot through with a jolt not unlike the lightning of one Jezdin's wands.

"Shh, do not fight it, boy. Let go and enjoy the moment." She whispered against his stomach. He swallowed, and tried to relax, but every touch was like fire in his veins.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:41 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

Shiallin placed his hands on her breasts; he was surprised by the way they felt beneath his fingers- soft, but firm and smooth, like ripe fruits. She leaned closer, her bare skin pressed against his, as she smothered his mouth with a deep kiss. Stunned into acquiescence, he froze up, eyes open wide.

After several long, tense moments, she moved lower, leaving a trail of deliciously hot kisses along his neck to one shoulder. He was reeling from the strange new emotions that raged within, his young mind drowning in- what, exactly? It was like nothing he had ever known, and no one had ever told him such things were possible.

"Mistress?" he asked hesitantly, brow furrowed in confusion and a sense of something important happening. "Why do I feel like this? What is it?" His hands fell to the bed, clenching in the smooth silk sheets.

Her only answer was to slide her hand down his belly again, taking hold of him once more. Then, in one swift move, she sat up, and lowered herself down onto his hips, until he cried out from the jolt of feeling something hot and moist closing around his most sensitive parts. Something that was not quite pain rocked through him, and he almost lost all thought, senses overwhelmed by what was taking place. He burned from the inside, but it felt good, so much so that he wondered if this was how it felt to die. If it was, then he wanted more of it....

Shiallin began to rock back and forth above him, each movement bringing a new rush of- whatever it was, that left him mindless with the aching need for more. With each passing moment, the heat inside grew, until he could no longer stand it, and his breath and heart quickened in the exquisitely sweet fire. His body tingled and writhed, every nerve singing out its electric thrill.

The young drow suddenly felt something explode inside, and let out a moan as all the tension and fire filled him in one white-hot moment of pure bliss, then slowly faded, leaving him breathless and trembling in its wake. He was panting, pupils dilated and sweat covering him from head to foot. He felt something warm and wet trickle down between his legs, and watched, fascinated, as his beautiful but distant teacher continued to move above him for several moments before she, too, seemed to convulse in some strange kind of energy, then collapsed atop his chest, her bosom heaving.

"Now," she whispered between breaths, "you are boy no more, but a man. You are now truly a Noble son of your father's House. Does this please you?"

Lotir looked at her in wonder, and nodded slowly. "Yes, very much, mistress."
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 6:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
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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Post by Aylstra Illianniis »

She smiled; she rolled to one side, propped up on her elbow, with one leg still stretched across his thighs. She kissed him once more, and this time he closed his eyes and tentatively tried to return it. He wondered why Ravyn had never kissed him that way, but instead only ever kissed his brow or cheek.

“Did you enjoy your lesson, young one? There is still much for you to learn. But I think we can save it for tomorrow. Come, let us get cleaned up, and we will speak more of what will be expected of you.” She said, standing up suddenly. He opened his eyes again, and felt a vague disappointment that she did not continue the kiss. She pulled him to his feet, and he stood bewildered and uncertain. He glanced down, to see something white sliding down the inside of his leg. He looked at the bed, and found more of it soaking into the sheets.

“What…?” he asked, looking to Shiallin for an explanation. She simply shook her head, rolling her eyes with an annoyed frown, and let out a deep breath.

“I really must do something about that idiot mage,” she muttered, and led the young boy into another room that he had not noticed before, half-hidden behind a curtain. Beyond it was a large bathing room, with a table holding several grooming implements and a small, cushioned chair along one wall, a shelf for various cloths, soaps, and perfumes, and a full-length mirror that covered nearly half of another wall. In the center of the room was a huge bathing pool sunk into the floor, which was filled with water that swirled and bubbled; steam came off the surface, as the pool was heated by some unseen source.

She led him into the pool, and it was pleasantly hot, the water lapping gently against his skin. The young drow stared at her questioningly, still wondering what would come next. "Mistress? What is that?" he asked hesitantly.

"Your seed, silly male. Did he teach you nothing of these things?" she laughed, and he frowned slightly, trying to understand what she meant. Slowly, he shook his head, a look of stunned surprise on his face. After a moment, the meaning dawned on him, and he suddenly understood so much more than a moment before. The revelation was almost more than he could take, but he hesitantly asked the one question that was burning itself into his mind.

"No, he must not have covered that yet. Seed- does that mean we just- are you going to have a...." He stopped, unable to complete the thought. Was that how it worked?

Shiallin laughed again. "No, of course not! For one thing, little man, I think you might be a bit young yet for that part of it. besides, it is not the proper time for me, and if it was, there are ways to prevent such things. Now, hurry and wash up. You still have lessons to go back to, and there are things you must know about your new status."
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 7:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
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 stared at her, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?” He still did not entirely understand everything she had said; it was all a little overwhelming, to say the least. So much had happened already, and it seemed there were still many things that he did not yet know.

“You will be leaving for Telamurin D’ Thalack in a few months. Terrillis is a large city, and there will be much that is unfamiliar to you. But you must understand that when you leave this House, you will not have the privilege and protection you are used to. In Terrillis, you are subject to the traditions and laws of the Matrons, just as every other male is. Any Matron or priestess who desires it may seek your services in whatever manner she wishes- and you are bound to comply. There can be no refusal. To deny a noble woman’s favors is punishable by death, or by any other means she deems fit- even the cha’kohk d’l’drider. You would be wise to remember that.”

“You mean- if one wants to- then I have to…. Even if I don’t want to?” Suddenly, Lothir was beginning to have second thoughts about these new lessons. Somehow, going to the Academy did not seem to be something to look forward to. He was no longer even certain he wanted to grow up. The thought of being away from home had been frightening enough, but to be told that he would have to do what any noble lady wanted seemed wrong. Yet one look at Shiallin’s indifferent expression was enough for the boy to realize how serious she was. He knew better than to question any command she gave. Not only would it invite her wrath, but that of both his parents, as well. That was something he had learned to avoid.

"Did you believe it to be otherwise? How foolish. You are only a male, after all. Even your father's rule is not absolute. But he was never fool enough to deny the ways of our kind. No, he is wise in allowing the old ways to continue unchanged, even if he seeks to rule over all. Ambitious as he is, he knows the Matrons would not stand for the abolishment of their edicts."

Without another word, she set about scrubbing herself, ignoring him. He watched for a while, his natural curiosity overcoming timidness for the moment. It had felt good to let her touch him, and he wondered if being ordered to perform such deeds could truly be so bad. He had to admit it had been frightening at first, but the sensations were- intriguing, to say the least. His thoughts turned back to his father, and what she had said about him. Did that mean that even he was subject to the will of the Matrons?

The boy thought about that for a long moment, while he sat in the bubbling water in silence. After a time, he picked up a sponge and some soap crystals from a small silver container beside the pool, and began to wash himself as she had ordered. When he finished, he stood up, and found a cloth to dry with. His feet padded softly over the thick rug of some strange creature's fur, as he retrieved his clothes and dressed. Shiallin had left the bath by then, and stood watching him.

"Tomorrow, you will come here after your morning studies," she said. He looked up, and saw that she was wearing a long robe open in the front, and nothing else. The sight of her curves sent an odd jolt through him, but he knew what it was now, and simply nodded. She didn't expect an answer, only compliance. That was something he had learned long ago.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 7:04 am, edited 1 time in total.
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 »

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. After he had gone back to his normal lessons- during which his thoughts kept turning to the strange turn her teaching had taken, and what other new things might be in store- it was time to practice weapon drills with Master Nalvir. The activity and all the excitement and exertions of the day soon wore him out, so Nalvir instructed him to continue until he dropped, as he felt the boy was too lax in his practice, and needed toughening.

After so much hard physical exercise, combined with the swimming and Shiallin’s own form of physical education, he was too exhausted at the end to make the excursion into the tunnels as planned. It was with a heavy sigh and much relief that he finally crawled into his own bed that night, too tired even to think about what the next day might bring.

He woke early the next morning, with a strange feeling of anticipation, wondering what she might have planned. He felt content and excited to begin his daily schooling, though he wasn’t quite certain why. He rushed through breakfast, pausing to give Ravyn a cheery greeting when he saw that she was among the slaves tending to the morning meal. She only nodded her response to him, with a quick look that reminded him their friendship was supposed to remain secret.

He made his way to the training room to begin the day, but Jezdin was no where to be found. He waited patiently for a time, flipping idly through a book of alchemic formulas, until it became clear that the irritable old mage was late. The boy began to pace the room, wondering if he should go look for his missing tutor. He even pulled one of the wooden practice swords from a rack, going through a few basic moves, simply to pass the time until the sorcerer should appear. When he heard the temple bell toll the hour for mid-day, he knew something was wrong.

He left the room, and wandered the corridors of his home, seeking some reason for his master’s absence. At last, he reached his father’s study, only to hear voices up ahead on the stairs. He paused to listen, for he recognized his mother’s harsh tone, in deep discussion with both Shiallin and his father’s deep, commanding voice, with its oddly accented speech- the remains of the old elven language he had once spoken as his native tongue.

“I tell you, Aldan- he is not ready. He barely even knows the difference between a kuo-toa and a sahuagin!” His mother’s cold contempt was clear, that much was certain.

“Well, so long as he knows how to KILL one or the other, it hardly matters, now does it?” came the Patron’s acid reply. Lothir heard his teacher’s amused chuckle, and realized they were talking about him.

“Perhaps, but with such stupidity, how long do you think the little idiot will survive in the city? I blame you, MY LORD, since it is YOUR seed that spawned such a pathetic excuse for an heir. He’s no better than that half-breed witch you whelped on that insipid little whore of yours!”

“I would watch your tongue, if I were you, MY LADY. You CAN be replaced as my Consort.” snarled the Patron. Lothir cautiously peeked around the corner where he hid, to see his father’s eyes blazing with blue fury at the insolent Lady of the House. Shiallin stood by, watching with a slight smirk as Ardra was berated by her infuriated mate. It was no secret that she felt Ardra was unsuited to rule as his Consort, and had even tried to convince him that she would make a better match than her elder half-cousin. Her lesser station among the house priestesses not withstanding, Shiallin was far less heavy-handed with the rest of the retainers and servants, a fact which had not gone unnoticed by the Lord.

“REPLACED?! You pompous upstart, whom do you think you are dealing with?! If it were not for MY House’s rank and power, you never would have risen to your current position! I should call down the wrath of the Goddess on you for such temerity!”

“Go ahead and try, my dear. You know very well that I have the protection of one who is just as powerful as she- and not half so MAD!” He roared, and suddenly struck out at her with his open hand. The blow landed on her jaw, and knocked her into the wall.

She stumbled, but merely stared up at him with a look of hatred and fury. After a moment, she straightened, then stalked off without another word. Lothir flattened himself against the wall as she went by, praying she would not glance his direction. But his mother seemed oblivious, and kept going.

“I trust you have dealt with that imbecile Jezdin?” Aldan said casually after his Consort had left.

“Of course, My Lord Patron. It will be a long time before he forgets his duties again.” She gave a slight bow, and he nodded his approval.

“Good. Make sure the boy is ready for Telamurin D’ Thalack by the time I return from Deimos. Six months, Shiallin- you have six months to ensure the boy is prepared for the Academy. Do not disappoint me.”
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 »

“Yes, as you wish, my Lord. I am ever at your service- in ALL ways.” The young drow watched as she ran her fingers lightly down his sire’s neck with a seductive smile, and Aldan returned her gaze with narrowed eyes, a half-smirk on his face.

“Naturally,” was all he said before he turned and went into his study. The sultry priestess turned and went down the stairs, passing Lothir as he ducked into one of the guard rooms below. He watched her go by; his thoughts were racing to try to make sense of what he had seen and heard. Was his tutor making a play to take his mother’s place as the Lady Consort? It appeared so.

Several minutes passed before he left the room. By that time, his stomach was reminding him quite audibly that he was hungry. He ran to the dining hall, where he saw that Ravyn was once again on serving duty. He nodded to her, careful not to let his mother see, for she had entered to take her afternoon meal. He ate in silence, staying as far from his eternally angry mother as possible to avoid arousing her ire. When he finished, he began to make his way to the servants’ spire, where Shiallin waited. But he had hardly reached the bridge that spanned the way across, when Morganna stepped in his way, looking down at him with a sneer.

“Well, if it isn’t the worm? Learn anything interesting lately, little we’ha (d*ck)? Ready for another private tutorial, perhaps?”

He stared at her, jaw gaping. How had she known about…? “And just what do YOU care about it?” he asked cautiously. She merely grinned wickedly.

“I don’t. I just thought it was amusing. Looks like Master Jezdin isn’t the only one who likes such games. Too bad he’s getting disciplined, or I bet he would teach YOU a thing or two!”

“What- what do you mean?” he asked uncertainly. Morganna never missed a chance to annoy or degrade him, and this time was no different. She had become expert at finding just the right verbal jabs to torment him- and everyone else around her, for that matter.

“Oh, haven’t you heard? He’s being punished for neglecting his duties. Too much time summoning his little playmates, I suppose- that dirty old sakphul-vith’rell (literally, “halfling-%$&#er“). So Shiallin decided to teach HIM a lesson, by summoning an incubus to play with HIM!”

Lothir’s eyes bulged at the news. He had often seen the old sorcerer call forth succubi and erinyes to do his bidding, but it was not until the day before that he had actually understood what that entailed. Now he found himself blushing at the thought of such lower planar beings being bound by his teacher to do- that.

“What do you know about that?” he asked pointedly, finally finding his voice again. Morganna only gave him a dark laugh.

“Oh, you’d be surprised what you can learn when no one knows you’re there. Like what he keeps in those spell books of his. You should read them sometime, little brother- you might actually learn something useful!” She snorted, and turned away, leaving him to wonder what she meant.

He stared after her until she had left, then continued on his way, across the bridge that spanned the empty space between the huge stone towers. Argos Hall had five such towers. The two largest held the family living quarters and recreational spaces, as well as the temple, training room and armory, several storerooms, and the throne room and main entrance hall. The third largest housed the main barracks and various workrooms for the smiths, masons, craftsmen, and other skilled artisans of the House.

The two smallest spires were those of the servants and common soldiers, along with the mages’ labs, and the private quarters of the House retainers. A small stronghold guarded the only tunnel entrance to the great cavern, with its own armory, training area, and barracks, while a second small fort was situated on a small rocky island at the entrance to the sea-tunnel that led out of the cove into the open ocean. Together, the towers and guard outposts held nearly six hundred dark elves, goblins, orcs, and a few members of other races- most of them slaves, low-born warriors, battle-mages, and the score of priestesses of the temple, along with the crews of Aldan’s two main ships, the Executioner and its sister ship, the Iceheart.

Soon he had reached her door, but did not know whether he should knock or simply enter. After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged, and knocked on the heavy metal door. It opened after only a few seconds, to reveal Shiallin in nothing but a simple robe. A lump rose in his throat as she waved him in; he entered cautiously, wondering what sort of lessons she had in mind. If it was anything like the previous day, he suspected he was in for a very eye-opening experience. She closed the door behind him, and told him to undress once again. For the next two hours, neither of them spoke….


Five days passed, and Jezdin still did not show up for the young prince’s morning studies. Instead, Shiallin took over teaching entirely, saying only that the missing tutor was recovering from an injury. Lothir didn’t care to speculate what that might mean; the possibilities were both too numerous, and too disturbing. He found that he actually enjoyed her manner of teaching more than the old mage, for she was not as quick to strike him for making mistakes than Jezdin had been, and was more patient with his questions, besides.
Last edited by Aylstra Illianniis on Sun Jan 30, 2011 7:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
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 »

Meanwhile, his other lessons were quickly becoming more stimulating by the day. By the fifth day, he had begun to think that the surly old sorcerer was gone for good, and he was glad to be rid of his heavy-handed tutor. He even risked going to Jezdin’s private lab and study to peruse his spell books as Morganna had suggested- something he never would have done had the short-tempered Qu’el’Faeruk (House Wizard) been about.

What he found both surprised and intrigued him, and he spent several hours each day studying the new spells he found. Some of them seemed made for pulling pranks on his mean-spirited half-sister. He had always wanted to find some way to get back at her for all the wicked tricks she had played on him, like turning his hair purple or making his seat at the table slick so that he slipped off and fell.

The spells that had interested him the most were the ones that created or altered sounds or voices. The day after he had spoken to Morganna, he took his turtle shell shield and a kukri from the armory- after practicing his magic by unlocking the door, of course- and snuck off to the mushroom grove to slip through the fissure into the hidden tunnels beyond. He had never been beyond the walls of Argos Hall’s cavern, so the young dark elf was both excited and a little afraid of what he might find. He knew well enough that those who wandered alone in the deeper passages often did not return, so he was cautious in his exploration.

Lothir had taken with him only one other item on his excursion, a beautiful silver flute that he had found among the glittering treasures of the family vault during one of his secret foreys into the depths of the Hall's lowest levels, where the torture chambers, vaults, and prisons were.

He had discovered a hidden entrance into the treasure room, and had found all sorts of strange and fascinating objects there. He knew the flute contained magic, but had no idea what kind, so he wanted to study it far from prying eyes- and ears. So as he shimmied his way through the tiny, narrow crevice that led from the mushroom grove into a long tunnel beyond, he kept the flute tucked into his belt, anxious to try it and see what it might do.

After what seemed a long time the small tunnel finally opened out into a wider passage that ran for over a hundred yards, twisting and turning, with a low ceiling. He cautiously crept along, knowing that the tunnels he was exploring were likely unknown to any but himself. If something happened out here, his family would never know of it. And most likely wouldn't waste much time or effort searching, either, he thought bitterly. It was becoming more and more plain that they cared little for him, save only for what he could contribute to the power and future of the House itself.

Some time later, he came to a small cavern, with many thin and jagged stalagmites and stalactites, a high roof, and a small pool of water fed from water dripping down through the rocks above. He gazed around, his normally blue eyes glowing slightly with a faint red light as he used his darkvision to see. He had long since passed the point of seeing normally in these black depths, for no light penetrated so far from his home.

Then his keen ears detected a noise from above. A faint clicking sound, so soft that he was barely sure he heard it at all...
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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