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diff --git a/src/dnd/tastavi.md b/src/dnd/tastavi.md deleted file mode 100644 index 77efda6..0000000 --- a/src/dnd/tastavi.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1965 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: "Tastavi D'Maelnor of Llolethane" -updated: "2016-08-30 Tue 23:56" -class: "dnd" -categories: SS ---- - -<p> -When I DM, I try to allow players to have as many options for -character creation as I can. Usually, this manifests in pretty -interesting, but stable, characters. And other times… you get -Tastavi. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi D'Maelnor of Lolathane-Mael'na'rath is not what I'd call a -stable character: a CN half-(drow)-elf half-(black)-dragon ftr/rog/war -hybrid sworn to an evil demigod who wants to swallow your dreams (and -possibly the sun and all life) and fleeing one hell of a custody -dispute. -</p> -<p> -But I fell in love with the idea. I had to write it up. It -started out as a three paragraph synopsis, but quickly devolved into -the micro-epic below. He was only played for three sessions before -dying to the most viscious and demanding opponent of all: sports -season. Enjoy! -</p> -<div id="table-of-contents"> -<h2>Table of Contents</h2> -<div id="text-table-of-contents"> -<ul> -<li><a href="#sec-1">1. Ik'lithslaelith</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-2">2. The Drowess</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-3">3. The Tunnel</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-4">4. High Priestess Destiny</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-5">5. Soup for Dinner</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-6">6. Hunger and Possibilities</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-7">7. [CENSORED]</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-8">8. Visions</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-9">9. Visitations</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-10">10. Voices</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-11">11. jal'Bror-noloth</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-12">12. The Hold</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-13">13. The Pits</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-14">14. The Return</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-15">15. Tastavi</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-16">16. Trials</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-17">17. Transformations</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-18">18. Training</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-19">19. The Leader</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-20">20. The Contest</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-21">21. The Cell</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-22">22. Motherly Love</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-23">23. The Will of Lolth</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-24">24. Doom</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-25">25. Destruction</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-26">26. Dreams</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-27">27. The Surface</a></li> -<li><a href="#sec-28">28. Credits</a></li> -</ul> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-1" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-1"><span class="section-number-2">1</span> Ik'lithslaelith</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1"> -<p> -A dark form slithered though the deep, black against black in the -sunless place. The form pulled its girth across the smooth stone of -its cavern, uncoiling itself and scraping eons of accumulated filth -from its obsidian hide. Too long had it slumbered here, content with -its wealth and glories of days long past. A yellow eye appeared inside -the chamber, burning with a delicate and powerful inner light. -</p> -<p> -The dragon Ik'lithslaelith was awake. And he was hungry. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-2" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-2"><span class="section-number-2">2</span> The Drowess</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2"> -<p> -She walked nude across the parapet. Her onyx skin still glistened from her -bath and her long white hair hung loose about her shoulders. She eyed -the servants gathered along the tower's edge, daring them to look. -</p> -<p> -Most simply bowed humbly before her, inches from oblivion, knowing -full well the punishment. She reached the stair and snatched a -loose-fitting robe from the extended hand of her favorite butler. His -empty and scarred eye sockets heaved involuntarily at her -proximity. It has been too long since she'd had a real excuse to user -her power. Too long. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-3" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-3"><span class="section-number-2">3</span> The Tunnel</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3"> -<p> -<i>This was not here when last I was.</i> mused the dragon. -</p> -<p> -He peered at the worked stone. Beneath his lair, along one of his -favorite underground flying paths, a circular tunnel disappeared into -the cliff face. Below him, the chasm loomed, threatening to consume -any that strayed too far from the path's narrow ledge–and could not -fly–to be burned to fiery cinders upon a lake of boiling stone -below. -</p> -<p> -He had always found the cavern poetic: no matter how hard the little -climbers tried to rise, this was not their place. Their place was -among the ashes. -</p> -<p> -The newly hewn tunnel was far too small for him to squeeze into of -course. But one does not reach advanced age as a dragon without -learning a few tricks along the way. -</p> -<p> -<i>And one does not keep it by being over-curious either</i> he thought to -himself. -</p> -<p> -<i>But I suppose it cannot be helped.</i> -</p> -<p> -Ik'lithslaelith breathed a deep echoing sigh, closed his eyes, and -began to shrink. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-4" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-4"><span class="section-number-2">4</span> High Priestess Destiny</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4"> -<p> -The family estate was vast, and by all accounts, grand. Nestled in a -isolated corner of the massive complex of linked caves that comprised -the southern drow 'city' of Mael'na'rath, the layered structure -resembled a spiked claw rising from on oozing wound. -</p> -<p> -Grand, but hideous. -</p> -<p> -Grotesquely complicated, but functional. -</p> -<p> -In a word: Chaotic. -</p> -<p> -From the single gate at the base of the claw to the tips of the -fingers, every staircase was a spiral. Most with an open center so -that the priestesses and noble family could levitate from floor to -floor, but commoners or household slaves would have to climb the steep -steps to get anywhere, and so guards could fire upon intruders the -entire way up. Intruders who, would first need to bypass the acid -pools which surrounded the fortress. -</p> -<p> -High Priestess Ul'Ilindith D'Maelnor of the Second House of -Llolethane-Mael'na'rath decended through the main stair upon a cloud -of authority. Any walking the stairs prostrated themselves before her, -and any family members floating up quickly stepped aside and bowed as -she passed. Her name meant "destiny" and she knew it. She reached the -floor she wanted and halted her descent. It was almost time. She was -expecting someone. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-5" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-5"><span class="section-number-2">5</span> Soup for Dinner</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-5"> -<p> -From the darkness, expectant eyes scanned the palace walls. The acidic -no-man's land glowed an eerie green from the pools which dotted the -cavern floor. But the eyes were not concerned with the -defenses. Instead they clutched at one distant parapet and -waited. Minutes passed, but there was no activity from the palace. The -eyes closed. Impatiently, a dark form slid from its hiding place in -the mouth of the abandoned tunnel to nowhere, and approached the -nearest pool of acid. The bubbling glow cast flickering splotches of -light over its distinctly feminine form, and she bent over the pool, -moving one hand in intricate spellcasting and clutching something -hanging from around her neck with the other. She felt at ease with it -near her, a rare feeling for a drow, but she had been experiencing all -kinds of rare feelings recently. Her divination spell failed, as they -were oft to do since she had fallen in love. Terrified of her own -feelings, she knelt in fervent prayer to the Spider Queen. -</p> -<p> -Behind her from the tunnel, another dark figure crept close, -unnoticed, a silent hand of death in the land of silent death. -</p> -<p> -Perhaps her prayers were answered, or perhaps the Queen of Spiders -simply thought it amusing, but with a gasp and a rush of power, the -beautiful drow woman felt the impending danger. She spun around, -calling upon years of training and the will of her goddess to meet the -threat. A whip appeared in her hands almost instantly, its twin -heads, each a living snake, hissed and spat. Smiling coolly, she struck -out against her assailant, the snake heads reaching, mouths wide to -bite deep into its flesh. A loud crack and hiss echoed through the -chamber, but when she pulled back the whip for another strike, both -heads lay limp and dead in her hands. A scaled form, black as onyx, -stood before her wearing only a billowing cloak and a practiced look -of grim amusement. The fangs had only barely scratched the surface of -his scales, and though sticky splotches of thick acidic pus covered -the point of impact, he seemed entirely unconcerned. -</p> -<p> -He responded in kind, spitting a line of black acid into her eyes and -face. She reeled backwards, clutching at her dissolving eyes, and fell -backwards into the bubbling pool. -</p> -<p> -The form approached the shallow pool. -</p> -<p> -"Looks like I'm having soup for dinner" mused Ik'lithslaelith. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-6" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-6"><span class="section-number-2">6</span> Hunger and Possibilities</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-6"> -<p> -She couldn't believe it! A dragon! And a powerful one from the looks -of it. High Priestess Ul'Ilindith smiled coolly from her invisible -floating vantage point, and watched him feast. Though the -'opportunities' she had been pursuing with the High Priestess of House -Undros were most definitely ended, perhaps even greater power than -simply controlling a minor house was in her reach. She nearly shook -with excitement at the thought of an ancient black dragon raining -death upon her enemies. But as always, she was to be careful in -this. A dragon, even a male dragon, was dangerous and difficult to -control. She mused for a moment on the dangers, she could see them -clearly before her even, the fate in store if she made a wrong move, -or if he still hungered. But the possibilities… -</p> -<p> -And perhaps, she mused, he hungered for drow in a way that could -benefit them both… -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-7" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-7"><span class="section-number-2">7</span> [CENSORED]</h2> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-8" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-8"><span class="section-number-2">8</span> Visions</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-8"> -<p> -She saw a city burning. -</p> -<p> -She saw people screaming in pain and rolling upon the ground, trying -to wipe away the tar that ate at their fingers, at their faces. -</p> -<p> -She saw clerics casting frantic spells, only to have them fail in -their time of greatest need, abandoned by their goddess, and likewise -be consumed. -</p> -<p> -She saw her son. -</p> -<p> -Standing in the midst of it, unharmed, and smiling, wiping blood from -his blades. When the fires died, his yellow eyes were all that -remained in the darkness. -</p> -<p> -The vision departed and the brazier bore once again the droopy-eyed -oozing visage of a Handmaiden of Lolth. The priestess bowed and the -messenger disappeared into the flames of the Demonweb Pits. -</p> -<p> -She looked down upon her pregnant belly. He would become her -weapon. It was the will of Lolth. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-9" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-9"><span class="section-number-2">9</span> Visitations</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-9"> -<p> -<b>Ik'lithslaelith</b> -</p> -<p> -The name woke him from his renewed slumber. He lay upon his -newly-heaped hordes of gold and pools of melted bones. The echo of the -name roared in his mind like a tempest. Like a wildfire. Like the roar -of ten thousand dragons. -</p> -<p> -The ancient Ik'lithslaelith, the proud Ik'lithslaelith, the noble -Ik'lithslaelith, the silent hand of death in the merciless Underdark, -Winnower of Worlds, and many more names long forgotten, cowered in -fear before his goddess. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-10" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-10"><span class="section-number-2">10</span> Voices</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-10"> -<p> -An ancient laughter hissed in the Abyss. -</p> -<p> -<i>The night is filled with voicess, so it seemss.</i> -</p> -<p> -She mused. -</p> -<p> -Time stretched out naked, and the darkness prophesied: -</p> -<p> -<i>Two minds.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>Two goddesses</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>of mixed intent</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>and muddled vows.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>Scheming over one</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>neither shall have.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>The Nightmare smiled.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>For even gods must sleep.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>And neither see the</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>choices made when</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>nightmares reign.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>Or hear the calls</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>of the forgotten</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>or the bound.</i> -</p> -<p> -Dendar smiled at the ironic cost of freedom. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-11" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-11"><span class="section-number-2">11</span> jal'Bror-noloth</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-11"> -<p> -The pregnancy was a wicked affair. Any news of it among the common -folk was quickly discredited, and to speak of it openly, even among -the family, was dangerous. Lady Ul'Ilindith spent her days under the -care of her most trusted subordinates in the priestesshood: the ones -with no ambition to speak of, whom she ruled with fear. She craved -meat, and so she feasted upon the flesh of exotic animals, taken from -both deep within the Underdark and from far above it, scoured from the -surface. Every day, the burden in her belly grew more intense, the -child growing much larger than any drow child. Every night the pain in -her abdomen became almost unbearable. But she bore it. She bore it to -term by force of will and the whispers of Lolth, promising her power -beyond her wildest imaginings. -</p> -<p> -Her time arrived quickly and with little warning. Appropriating a -hidden chamber deep beneath the complex–aptly, one often used for -summoning creatures from lower planes, and shielded against unwanted -magical intrusion–Ul'Ilindith labored for six days and nights. Every -second, the unborn child tore at her. She used up every spell of -healing from every priestess within the complex and more besides, -calling upon the aid of magical items and elixirs to keep the child -from tearing her apart. And the pain only heightened her -determination. -</p> -<p> -When the child was finally born, it was amid a spray of blood. The -child poured forth wrapped in stinking muck, an acidic darkness that -mirrored the hearts of its parents. His parents. Even with all of her -powers of healing, it was weeks before Ul'Ilindith recovered. She -named the boy jal'Bror-noloth, the Sudden All-Encompassing Darkness, -and kept him hidden from the world. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-12" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-12"><span class="section-number-2">12</span> The Hold</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-12"> -<p> -A sudden rush of fresh air and the sounds of grinding stone attracted -a small huddled group of kobolds to the cavern entrance. Large eyes, -well-adjusted to the darkness, peered towards the unblocked hatchway -and waited. From the other side of the hole in the cavern ceiling red -and purple faerie fire cast an eerie glow into the chamber. Usually, -if someone had rolled away the blocking stone and ventured into the -cavern, the kobolds would know if it, but these were dark elves, in -their domain, and fully prepared for stealth. All the kobolds saw was -a vague hint of motion and the sudden glint of steel at their throats. -</p> -<p> -They prostrated themselves before their cruel masters and whimpered -despite their better sense. Or rather all but one of them whimpered. A -young female, untested, but strong, remained unbowed. This was her -first encounter with the dark elves, and through either willpower or -through ignorance she stood and stared into the eyes of the drow -soldier that held her captive, brandishing a knife and scowling at the -ambush. -</p> -<p> -The soldier's face became a mask of rage. She was ibluth, a worthless -slave, a worthless kobold. He had certainly killed avenging lesser -slights. He moved quickly and knocked away her blade, pressing his own -in the space between her legs, preparing to cut her from stem to -stern, but a commanding voice held him at bay. From behind, a -weathered face, drained, but dangerous and beautiful, approached the -soldier and the kobold maiden. She carried a small bundle in her arms, -breastfeeding. -</p> -<p> -She stared down at the scaled creature, regarding her cooly. Then she -carefully lifted the baby from her breast. He began to cry. -</p> -<p> -"You. Raise this iblith." -</p> -<p> -She roughly handed the child to the now-wide-eyed kobold and stalked -away, the rest of her guard following her. -</p> -<p> -The boulder ground back into place and the cavern returned to -darkness… but not silence. -</p> -<p> -The sound of a baby's cry echoed through the halls. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-13" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-13"><span class="section-number-2">13</span> The Pits</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-13"> -<p> -The smack of sweaty flesh upon hard rock, and the crack of breaking -bones, and shattered maws, and the echoing bloodthirsty cheer brought -kobolds from all parts of the hold to witness the spectacle in the -pits. A pair of fighters were sprawled upon the ground, clubbing and -beating on each other with their claws or hands or whatever tools were -available. It was over quickly, the opening salvo of the contest. The -winner was cheered, the loser tossed aside to make way for the next -fight. This was the way of kobolds: fast brutal victory or slow -agonizing defeat. -</p> -<p> -A large kobold, round, his puffy skin bulging from around his scales -like fishnet tights, sat atop a large boulder overlooking the pit. He -called out for the next pair to enter the pit. Cheers erupted at the -first volunteer, a tall specimen, muscular, and well-endowed. His -reddish scales flickered brutally in the dim torchlight. He stood -proudly waving a spear to the adoring crowd, so he did not note his -challenger until the cheers turned to anxious whispers. A small boy -stood squarely in the center of the ring, head downcast. Few could say -the moment that he had arrived, but none could deny his presence now, -nor what it signified. The challenge had been issued. The boy's scales -contrasted greatly with the proud fighter that stood before him. Where -the champion's scales gleamed in the torchlight, the boy's seemed to -swallow it completely. Black. As the darkest night or deepest cave. -</p> -<p> -From the crowd, an adopted mother gasped as she saw her son standing -in the ring and not at her side. It was no secret that she had been -commissioned to raise the boy by the drow themselves, and the sudden -silence in the stands all but confirmed it. None knew for sure which -would win out, their customs: the right of challenge in the pits, or -their fear of the drow should anything happen to the boy. -</p> -<p> -Their internal war was ended by the sudden motion of the -challenger. He lifted his spear and lunged at the champion. The strike -was short, but the damage was done, the fight had already begun. The -champion returned the strike, only to have his spear deftly deflected -as it came down. The young half-dragon took this opportunity to charge -at the kobold before him, getting within the range of the spear and -clawing at the hands holding the weapon. Long thick lines of blood -appeared on the champion's forearms and he released the weapon in -order to block the continued onslaught and return the favor. He led -with a left hook that connected right under the boy's eye and sent him -sprawling backwards, and quickly followed it with a kick to the boy's -side, right beneath the shoulder-blade. The youth hit the ground and -dove into a roll to come back to his feat. He had no more completed -it, when another powerful kick knocked him back again, this time -against the cavern wall. More punches followed and the boy fell back -again and again against the wall and the floor, for support. His eyes -were swollen, his hands and knees bloody, his body aching from the -thrashing, but he did not signal his surrender. Instead he peered into -the champion's eyes with determination and smiled, a bloody broken -thing amid a silent crowd. The champion shook his head, but stalked in -one more time to finish it. -</p> -<p> -He never got a chance. -</p> -<p> -The only sound that could be heard for miles was his scream. Not a -person gathered breathed, nor heart beat for several moments, as their -champion writhed pitifully upon the ground clutching the wreck that -was once his face. Acid melted down into his skull and soon he could -no longer draw the breath to scream and just shivered upon the ground. -</p> -<p> -Jal'Bror'Noloth wiped the spittle from his mouth and looked up to -regard the assembled, but from his vantage point, could see but one, -the puffy chieftain upon the rock, as all bowed down to worship the -dragon-blessed. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-14" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-14"><span class="section-number-2">14</span> The Return</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-14"> -<p> -The hatchway was open and once again, the proud kobold mother stood -before dark elves. Though this time, she did not stand alone. Her -adopted son, nearly her height, stood, hands balled into fists, at her -side. He glanced protectively from his mother and the kobolds -cowering on the ground to the strange dark-skinned woman standing -before him, who began to speak. She spoke slowly, as if to a very -young child, and with an unfamiliar and decadent accent. -</p> -<p> -"You appear to have raised him well. Does he speak Undercommon?" -</p> -<p> -"Aks him yerself." his mother spat back. -</p> -<p> -The drow priestess held out a hand to halt one of her guards who had -stepped out of the darkness brandishing a knife. He stopped with a -quizzical look, and slipping his dagger back into his piwafwi cloak, -disappeared again. -</p> -<p> -"Do you know your name, little one?" -</p> -<p> -The boy looked to her suspiciously, but answered proudly "The others -call me Nightshade." -</p> -<p> -She smiled coolly. -</p> -<p> -"A fitting name I'm sure, but a child's name, a disguise at best." She -stalked closer to the boy, peering deeply into his eyes, and reached -out with a hand to trace the pattern of his scales. -</p> -<p> -His mother attempted to interpose herself, to shield her child from -the foreign touch, but instead found herself frozen in place -mid-step. Wide-eyed she tried to cry out, but found no words. The -paralyzing poison of the trio of small darts protruding from her back, -neck, and leg had done its task. -</p> -<p> -"I see it in your eyes little Nightshade. This place has made you a -killer, as I knew it would, but you shall become so much more. Follow -me, and rise to conquer nations! And you shall earn your true name! -Jal'Bror'Noloth!" -</p> -<p> -Jal stood dumbfounded at the revelation. He looked to the -ground. Silence fell upon the empty chamber and all eyes upon the -young half-dragon. He closed his eyes. Though he could almost feel a -thousand heartbeats all around him, the one in his chest was the -faintest. Here among the kobolds, he was revered, some kind of god to -the dragon-loving fanatics. Could the same be true of wherever this -woman would take him? -</p> -<p> -No, he decided, his place was in the caverns. And he didn't like this -stranger and her band. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. -</p> -<p> -"I already have a mother." he stated flatly. "I have no need for -another one, nor your names for me." -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith smiled, unperturbed by his response. She leaned down to -his ear and whispered "You do indeed already have a mother. But soon, -you'll have a goddess." -</p> -<p> -A hundred drow warriors appeared from the shadows, blades -spinning. Kobold blood splattered the ceilings, the floors, it -splattered the pair standing undisturbed in the midst of it. Jal found -he could not move his body, he could not open his mouth again to send -acid into the faces of the attackers. -</p> -<p> -It was over quickly. The cowering kobolds were all dead, cut into morbid -ribbons that covered the walls and floors. As were all the kobolds -that stayed in the darkness and thought themselves safe from the -spectacle. Any that saw the return of the drow or the fate of their -beloved dragon-blessed were left to feed whatever monsters that would -inevitably take up residence in the food-rich cavern. The Underdark -is not a place of wastefulness. -</p> -<p> -Jal watched as the only other survivor, his adopted mother, was put -into chains and levitated up through the drow hatchway. Still groggy -from the poison, he barely noticed when his own fetters were locked -into place. Ul'Ilindith leaned over his shoulder and whispered once -again, -</p> -<p> -"You shall know your destiny my little iblith. And you shall know the -futility of defying me." -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-15" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-15"><span class="section-number-2">15</span> Tastavi</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-15"> -<p> -The aging Master of Arms, Elderboy Tastadraa D'Maelnor, looked over -the boy's head to his sister Ul'Ilindith. -</p> -<p> -"This? This is the one you bring to me?" -</p> -<p> -The boy appeared unremarkable in every way. Average height, build, -skin tone, hair style, musculature, almost a mockery of normalcy. -</p> -<p> -"He is." -</p> -<p> -"I take it then, he is some prodigy with a blade?" -</p> -<p> -"I doubt he's ever touched one." -</p> -<p> -Tastadraa sighed and slicked back his receding hairline. Despite his -position in the family, one can never take a demand from a High -Priestess lightly. He nodded his head, -</p> -<p> -"I will train him…" -</p> -<p> -"Very good." -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith turned to leave. -</p> -<p> -"…assuming he passes the trials of course." -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith stopped. Slowly turning around, venom oozing -from her gaze, she asked -</p> -<p> -"Trials?" -</p> -<p> -"Just a formality I assure you, since he does not appear to be -of… noble birth. I shall train him if he proves himself superior to -my most recent student." -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith smiled. She looked across the room to the gangly youth -attempting to lift a glave twice his size and nearly chopping himself -in twain as the weapon fell to the ground with a clatter–her sister's -son would prove no challenge. -</p> -<p> -"All right. He shall fight then." -</p> -<p> -But to her surprise the weapon master called out, "Tastavi! Come hither." -</p> -<p> -From behind a weapons rack, a lithe youth looked up and walked -over. His gait was one of practiced grace and noble refinement. -</p> -<p> -"This is my son Tastavi, he came of age just yesterday to start -training with the group. Tastavi, you will be fighting this one to -determine if he is fit to train against you." -</p> -<p> -Tastavi glanced at the new boy and smirked. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-16" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-16"><span class="section-number-2">16</span> Trials</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-16"> -<p> -Both fighters panted for breath. They dripped with sweat. From -opposite sides of the perfect circle drawn upon the floor, they stared -into each other's eyes, waiting. Tastavi licked blood from his -battered lip. -</p> -<p> -He had expected to finish the match quickly. He held his sword -delicately but firmly, gently gliding it into thrusts and parries, as -opposed to this stranger who held his sword like a club, and used it -like one. But he quickly discovered that what the newcomer lacked in -technique he made up for with ferocity. He looked so small and -unspectacular, but possessed the raw strength of someone much larger, -and the split-second reflexes of a master. The force and savage speed -of his swings was jolting. Tastavi was able to stay ahead of each of -them, but barely. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi had then moved to the center of the ring, expending as little -effort as he could, dodging as much as deflecting, to tire out his -opponent. Eventually the frustrated and slowing newcomer simply -started swinging out as a distraction and using his body to push -Tastavi towards the edge of the ring. Several times only his training -in gymnastics had kept him from being bowled over out of the ring, and -the last rush had been the closest yet. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi had to adjust, and began to counter the charges with precise -blade thrusts, forcing his aggressor back, but took a few flying elbows -to the face while perfecting it. -</p> -<p> -Now mutual respect and more than a little exhaustion had the pair -circling. Almost an hour had passed, with neither side backing -down. His father, the Weapon's Master, stood by the wayside trying to -look disinterested to Ul'Ilindith, while nonetheless remaining intent -on every second of the fighting. The other students held no such -reservation and watched the display with open wonder. -</p> -<p> -As the two dragged themselves around they ring they knew that whatever -happened here, it would be the last clash between the two. Tastavi -hefted his blade and focused on his breathing and his feet, on his -years of training with his father, and on his enemy: nearly collapsed -on the ground, hands clenched upon the hilt of his broadsword, knuckles -as white as the hair upon his head. -</p> -<p> -And suddenly upon him. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi stepped to the side, barely avoiding the downwards strike and -stabbed out, piercing flesh and striking against bone. The newcomer -fell past him landing with a dull thud against the floor, jutting out -halfway from the ring and retching in pain. His blood bubbled from the -wound on his side. Tastavi heard a strange sizzling sound and looked -to his blade, the blood was slowly eating away the metal! -</p> -<p> -The crowd cheered, but Master Tastadraa silenced them with a harsh -reprimand and they reluctantly began to disperse. Tastavi nearly -collapsed, but held his feat and his honor. Then nearly collapsed -again as Ul'Ilindith surprised him by personally moving forward to -tend to the boy. Tastavi found himself dumbfounded before Ul'Ilindith, -who reached down and touched the boy, instantly healing him and -vaporizing the bubbling blood before it burned into the ground. -</p> -<p> -The conversation between his aunt and father echoed far away. -</p> -<p> -"I shall teach him." -</p> -<p> -"But, didn't he lose your little challenge?" -</p> -<p> -"I shall teach him." -</p> -<p> -The tip of his blade fell to the ground with a loud clatter as the -acid ate cleanly through the steel. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-17" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-17"><span class="section-number-2">17</span> Transformations</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-17"> -<p> -He awoke to a Sending message in his mind. -</p> -<p> -<i>Jal, it is time to train with Master Tastadraa.</i> -</p> -<p> -<i>Yes Mother.</i> he replied. -</p> -<p> -Jal lay upon a thin bisected cot, the center of which was cut away -so that he could lay on his back without the ridge on his spine -cutting at the fabric. -</p> -<p> -He looked to the three other belongings his mother allowed him: a pair -of clothes for training at blades and bows, a small key, and a thin -mask of white velvet. -</p> -<p> -He reached for the key, but changed his mind at the last second and -went for the mask instead. -</p> -<p> -He carefully set it place upon his face and grimaced beneath it as -its magic began subtly changing him. He shrank, his thick arms and -legs shriveling into the spindly appendages of the drow. The ridges on -his spine disappearing into his back. His hair remained roughly the -same, resulting in an almost comical effect if anyone were -watching. However, if anyone were watching, they would almost -certainly be dead by now. His room was one of the best guarded places -in the complex. -</p> -<p> -He left his chamber fully drow–there was no illusion, his entire body -was changed–and made for the training complex. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-18" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-18"><span class="section-number-2">18</span> Training</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-18"> -<p> -Tastadraa leaned against a trident and watched Jal and Tastavi -spar. He marveled at the progress they made in such short time. Given -years, these two would surely become the best fighters in House -D'Maelnor, if not the best fighters in Llolethane-Mael'na'rath. But -which would predominate? -</p> -<p> -Tastavi represented perfection in discipline and form. He learned -every technique: line, parry, block, feint, it didn't matter, after a -few repetitions he would master them, and he followed orders to the -very punctuation. -</p> -<p> -Jal on the other hand, represented pure natural talent and -improvisation. He could find his way in any situation with no -preparation whatsoever. He always tested his opponents, challenging -their careful techniques and reactions, throwing them into -unpredictable patterns and unfamiliar lines. He was dangerous and -cared nothing for orders. -</p> -<p> -Only time would tell. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-19" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-19"><span class="section-number-2">19</span> The Leader</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-19"> -<p> -Flames billowed into the sky. -</p> -<p> -The sky. -</p> -<p> -Bright and blue, horrid and happy. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith shuddered. -</p> -<p> -"Why do you show me this?" -</p> -<p> -A caped rogue peered from the crystal ball to the priestess. -</p> -<p> -"We all serve the Queen according to her will." -</p> -<p> -He motioned for her to continue watching the silent scene unfold below -in the glassy sphere. The sky came into view once again and then -shifted to a quiet village in the middle of a great yellow plain. -</p> -<p> -From the south a sweeping army of darkness crept upon the unsuspecting -village, at its head an imposing warrior. Arrayed in thick armor, not -much could be seen of his face, or much beyond the massive broadsword he -carried upon his back. With an unheard bellow he hefted the sword with -two hands and led the the charging army to battle. -</p> -<p> -A charge that faded from her view as the scene changed -subtly. Suddenly the army was on the road, traveling by the new -moon. Then they were at the gates of a great city, then inside it, -slaying indiscriminately. Then there was a throne, obsidian and -bearing the mark of the Spider Queen, and an ancient drow upon it, -casting traitors into the flames. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith struggled with the vision. -</p> -<p> -"We shall take to the surface? An army?" -</p> -<p> -"Not we, but see the mark upon the leader?" -</p> -<p> -"D'Maelnor!" -</p> -<p> -"Yes, he carries your crest. And another, of the first house." -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith smiled. "Then it's true, the union shall take place?" -</p> -<p> -"Yes, but keep in mind" said the rogue, "there is but one leader -prophesied… not two." -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-20" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-20"><span class="section-number-2">20</span> The Contest</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-20"> -<p> -Tastavi held his bow carefully and exhaling suddenly, sent a perfect -shot into the deep-rothe's eye. -</p> -<p> -"Twenty-three" Jal sighed dramatically, his face emotionless. -</p> -<p> -"If you hadn't wasted your shot on the bull you would be tied with -me. Next time." Tastavi patted Jal on the shoulder mockingly. -</p> -<p> -"I've got one shot left." Jal pulled the arrow from his dimensional -bag. -</p> -<p> -"Even if you somehow managed to kill two of them with that, you'd only -match me." Tastavi gave him a superior look and started packing his things. -</p> -<p> -Jal stared out across the cavern floor at the grazing rothe. Slowly a -half-smile spread across his face. -</p> -<p> -"I've got one shot left." he reiterated. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi stopped and just watched. He knew that look well enough after -all. It usually preceded something worth watching. -</p> -<p> -Jal lifted his bow, nocked the arrow and held out his hand encasing a -rothe in purple flames. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi gave him a disapproving look, "Now that's cheating!" -</p> -<p> -"No, that's not the target, watch." Jal replied. -</p> -<p> -At first the rothe seemed not to notice, and Jal lifted three fingers. -</p> -<p> -Two fingers. -</p> -<p> -One. -</p> -<p> -The rothe looked up and seeing the illusory flames encasing it, began -to panic. It let out a mooish-roar and bolted for the water. -</p> -<p> -It would have made it too, except for the very agitated bull rothe -standing directly in its path with an arrow protruding from its -hindquarters. The bull had almost come to accept the nagging itch in -its backside, but being bowled over by a frantic, and apparently -burning, female on her way to the water was not a good way to arrive -at acceptance. -</p> -<p> -He reared up and charged, looking to gore anything in its path. A -couple of plump females stood nearby and he charged at them -blindly. They looked up in time to see the horns, and bolted to the -side. -</p> -<p> -Jal fired. -</p> -<p> -His arrow whisked past the enraged bull, peeling flesh from his face -and changing his course to plow, horns-first into the escaping females, -skewering both of them before himself, crumpling to the ground. -</p> -<p> -"Ok, well that's just Twenty-three then. We're tied." Tastavi managed -to stammer. But Jal turned to him and smiled. -</p> -<p> -"Look again." -</p> -<p> -Tastavi traced the arrow's flight from where it had been -deflected… into the water. The startled rothe, no longer in faerie -fire, floated on her side, bleeding dark blood into the water from an -arrow between the ribs and into the heart. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-21" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-21"><span class="section-number-2">21</span> The Cell</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-21"> -<p> -Jal opened his eyes and realized that for the first time in several -years, his mother had not called him to training. His room was dark, -but there was no mistaking the time. She should have called by now. -</p> -<p> -He donned his mask and hesitantly took up the tiny golden key. -</p> -<p> -If she called, he would answer, but it was not often he had the time -he needed, and he decided that he would not waste it. -</p> -<p> -He dressed quickly and left his chamber, racing through the levels of -the palace to the great stair. He usually descended the stairs on -foot, but who knew how long he had to spare. He activated his house -insignia and levitated down the center. -</p> -<p> -Near the bottom, he jumped to the side and followed a narrow corridor -to the cell block. He counted his steps and arrived at the correct -door. He slid in his key and opened the lock. -</p> -<p> -Inside the room was a small cell, only a few inches taller than he and -only a few feet wider. It was empty. -</p> -<p> -"No." He said. -</p> -<p> -He had to have made a mistake. Where was she? He looked around, but -found no signs of escape, nor of capture. -</p> -<p> -"No!" He exited the room and looked both ways down the narrow -hallway. -</p> -<p> -He tried the adjacent doors, but could not open them. -</p> -<p> -"NO!" he screamed, the sound echoing in the long metallic corridor. A -second passed, then thirty. His head ached and his gut clenched and -burned. A sending arrived from his mother. -</p> -<p> -<i>Jal, come to the throne room immediately.</i> -</p> -<p> -Jal's rage flared inside him. The truth he suspected burned his lungs -and throat. He tried to be calm, to tread carefully, but couldn't help -but scream back <i>Where is she?! What have you done with her?!</i> -</p> -<p> -No response was forthcoming. -</p> -<p> -He screamed. An echoing anguish mixed among the cell-block moans. He -ran, dashing through the archway to the stair. He took no heed of -those around him as he raced fate to the throne room at the top of the -complex. -</p> -<p> -He arrived at the doors out of breath, and furious. Guards attempted -to bar his way to announce him, but Jal rushed deftly past them and -stormed into the throne room without announcement. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-22" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-22"><span class="section-number-2">22</span> Motherly Love</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-22"> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith reclined upon the throne. A drooling zombie stood guard -beside it, once a powerful priestess, she was now cursed to forever -stand as a reminder of what may happen to those who lose the favor of -the Spider Queen. -</p> -<p> -Guards lined the walls armed with hand crossbows. Tastadraa and his -son stood before the dais, waiting for the final addition to their -ranks. -</p> -<p> -It burst into the throne room. -</p> -<p> -"Where is she?! What have you done with her?!" Jal screamed. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith remained seated and unaffected. -</p> -<p> -Jal screamed again, "WHERE IS SHE?!" The volume and the timbre -contrasted dramatically with the unimpressive image of the drow -youth. An aura of fear radiated from him, slowly affecting the nearest -guards who stiffened and stood frozen beside the open door, mouths -agape. -</p> -<p> -"My my, Mother, what am impudent little pup I've raised." Ul'Ilindith -lamented to the zombie beside her. It responded to the attention by -lolling its head slightly towards the sound. -</p> -<p> -Jal looked to the pair standing before the throne with suspicion. -</p> -<p> -"Where is my mother." he stated. -</p> -<p> -"Jal, Jal, do calm down. I have liked your 'mother' from the moment I -saw her. I believe that we share a certain… bond. But display an -attitude again in my presence, and I promise, she'll soon resemble -<i>my</i> mother more than yours." Ul'Ilindith casually gestured to the -guard zombie. -</p> -<p> -Jal deflated. The fire in his throat cut off any further words, and -tears threatened to well behind his eyes. But his anger wisely turned -to caution. He looked around the room and took in the situation, then -wandered to his spot beside the other two males. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith was not sure about what she'd seen foretold, and thought -about the rogue's warning. She had worried about the course set before -her, but Jal's continuing insubordination left no room for doubt. -</p> -<p> -She put aside her contemplation and said with a plastered smile, -</p> -<p> -"A special opportunity has come to my attention. The first house has -shown to me a great vision of the future. A great warrior, a son of -D'Maelnor, shall join with the first house and lead an army of -darkness across the surface world." -</p> -<p> -Master Tastadraa's mouth fell agape, Tastavi focused on calming his -excitement, Jal just strained against his rage, though there was dull -curiosity there too. Tastavi was the only "son of D'Maelnor" he knew -who could possibly wear the description of 'great warrior.' -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith just watched their reactions to be sure. Yes, the choice -was obvious, but perhaps it should still be best left in Lolth's -hands. -</p> -<p> -"Brother, you're a bit too old to be our warrior. Step away from the -dais. I will address the boys." -</p> -<p> -Tastadraa bowed and stepped back into a line of guards at the side. -</p> -<p> -Jal felt isolated upon the dais. He looked to Tastavi uncertainly, but -Tastavi looked at his aunt with expectancy, ambition gleaming in his -eyes. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith addressed the room. "Before me stand two great sons of -D'Maelnor:" -</p> -<p> -A dull question thumped in the back of Jal's mind. <i>What?</i> -</p> -<p> -"Tastavi, son of Tastadraa D'Maelnor." -</p> -<p> -<i>Two great sons? Tastadraa isn't up here, just Tastavi and…</i> -</p> -<p> -"and Jal'Bror'Noloth, my firstborn son," -</p> -<p> -Jal almost fell from the dais. No, she had been his 'Matron Mother', -but he'd never believed that… -</p> -<p> -"whom I carried and delivered." -</p> -<p> -Jal's rage flared, but his voice was nowhere to be found it in. He -stood stone-faced and looked to the ground. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi looked to his newfound cousin with surprise, and sudden -jealousy. All this time, and Jal had never told him? There he stood, -embarrassed to have his secret revealed. Were they ever friends, or -only rivals? -</p> -<p> -"Both of you have surpassed my expectations with regard to fighting -prowess. But… There is but one great warrior." Ul'Ilindith stated -clearly. -</p> -<p> -She let the statement sink in. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi turned. -</p> -<p> -Jal broke from his focused denial and turned to look at his friend. He -shook his head, slowly in disbelief. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi reached his hands slowly to the hilts of his swords. -</p> -<p> -Jal made no move to match him. He looked to Ul'Ilindith. She smiled -wickedly. He looked to Tastadraa. He looked lost, a mixture of caring -father, and greedy coward. -</p> -<p> -He threw off his sword belt. It fell with a clatter to the ground. -</p> -<p> -"Tastavi can go. He can be your warrior." -</p> -<p> -Tastavi looked quickly back and forth between Jal and Ul'Ilindith. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith's smile became a sneer. -</p> -<p> -A muffled screaming came from somewhere behind the throne and an aging -kobold, bound and gagged, naked and bleeding, was brought before -it. The zombie drooled at her and strained at its magical restraints. -</p> -<p> -"No. You shall fight, my little iblith." She held out her hand before -her with an open palm. In it lay a small scrap of white velvet. Slowly -fire rose from her fingers and ignited it. -</p> -<p> -Immediately Jal was wracked with pain as if his face was being torn -off. He screamed, a primal roar, a dragon's roar. Guards around the -room stiffened. Tastavi's eyes grew wide. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith turned her hand over into a fist and crushed the ashes. -</p> -<p> -The polymorph spell of the mask was ended. Jal knelt on the -ground. He breathed heavily and shivered. His clothes were tatters. He -held the thin mask in his hands–his clawed hands. He looked up, his -white hair falling over his yellow eyes. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi looked upon him with a mixture of disgust, betrayal, and fear. -</p> -<p> -Jal shook his head, dropped the mask, and held his hands up -defensively, waving away the accusation in Tastavi's eyes. -</p> -<p> -"Kill him." Ul'Ilindith commanded Tastavi. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi drew his swords. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-23" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-23"><span class="section-number-2">23</span> The Will of Lolth</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-23"> -<p> -Though years had passed since their first fight, Jal found the whole -scene familiar. Tastavi would stalk forward blades drawn and execute a -perfect series of textbook thrusts and faints. He'd win. He usually -did, but this time he wouldn't stop. This was no practice spar; this -was life and death. -</p> -<p> -Jal snatched up his weapon belt, pulling his blades from it–a rapier -and a dagger–kicked it into Tastavi's face, and retreated. But -Tastavi responded by slashing down in a brutal 'X' with his scimitars, -cutting the tossed belt and bag into four even pieces. Jal tried to -reason with him, but couldn't get out more than a word against the -determination in Tastavi's eyes, and speed of his routine. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi came on in full. Emotions flooded his mind, betrayal was -nothing new or exotic to a drow, but this was something more than -that. Jal was a half-breed, a disgrace. He would put an end to this -traitor, this ibluth masquerading as a D'Maelnor. Only a true D'Maelnor -could lead an army of drow to bring justice to the surface world. Not -this abomination. Tastavi thought back to every fight against the -traitor, to the times he had beaten him. His training had always won -out in the end. He couldn't help but think of the good times as -well. But he violently rejected them. Lies, they were all lies. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi lunged forward, his whole body extending, uncoiling like a -viper. Jal managed a half-hearted parry, sending Tastavi's thrust out -wide, but lost space, as Tastavi dropped his blade below, tapped the -tip of Jal's rapier harmlessly upwards with the strong of his blade -and re-engaged. Jal managed to parry the first few blows of every -line, but barely held on as the sequences progressed. He was never as -good as Tastavi at feeling the parries and teaching his arms to -remember them. Jal relied on the space afforded by his greater -height, backing away, disengaging, dodging, and doing anything to -break Tastavi's muscle memory. Several times he tried to flee, but -whenever he came close to the guards, their crossbows forced him back -into the fight against his friend. -</p> -<p> -Jal looked into Tastavi's eyes, but saw nothing but pain there. Deep -welling emotion. Not regret, but pure righteous hatred. The look -festered like a wound on his conscience. He felt the bile welling in -his throat, preparing to send forth a blast of acid to burn away that -look. But he choked it back and continued to parry. -</p> -<p> -There had to be another way. -</p> -<p> -Jal felt strong. Free from the polymorph, he was able to stand to his -full height, the chamber, the columns, even the other drow all seemed -so much smaller now. The passing thought gave him an idea. But he had -to act quickly. -</p> -<p> -Jal flexed his thick legs, turned, back to the enemy, and rushed -headlong into a pair of guards. He felt the wind of Tastavi's blade -barely miss impaling him. The guards paled at the sight of a large -black half-dragon barreling at them, and dodged behind a pillar, firing -crossbow bolts at him as they fell. But they were poorly aimed and -glanced off of his hard black scales. He followed them around the -pillar, screaming. Then silence filled the chamber. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi soon followed, breathing heavily from his furious assault, but -found nothing around the pillar but the pair of guards unconscious on -the ground. He darted around the other side of the pillar to find -nothing there either. He looked around behind him in frustration and -caught a glance at another guard from the other side of the room -staring dumbfounded at the ceiling. He turned to the pillar and found -deep scratches on the intricately carved relief. His eyes followed -them up, to find Jal climbing, tearing chunks of the porous stone free -with his claws to use as handholds. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith held out a hand to keep the archers at bay, amused by the -tactic. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi put away his swords and carefully followed him up. -</p> -<p> -The chamber's ceiling was crisscrossed with the webs of thousands of -spiders. Moths and flies, bats and even larger specimens struggled in -freshly wrapped cocoons or lay very still. Drow-made archways that -provided places for the webs to attach jut from odd angles. -Crisscrossing struts connected them in intricate patterns. Jal leaped -from the top of the pillar to one of these, sending its occupants -scurrying away. -</p> -<p> -He moved from strut to strut, displacing as few spiders as -possible–it was bad luck after all–running where he could, climbing -where he could not, and constantly dodging the think and sticky -strands. He reached the end of one strut and turned to see Tastavi -racing after him, swords drawn, hacking at whatever strands got too -close. Jal looked around and dove into the thickest part of the -webbing, directly over the throne. -</p> -<p> -In the confined space it would be much more difficult to dodge, and -impossible to run, but Jal took comfort in knowing that if he could -find the right spot, it would also be impossible to lunge. His greater -range combined with the sticky walls could then keep any advance at -bay. He found a large strut, disconnected from the one he was on, -probably two feet think, and curving from the ceiling like a -hook. Tastavi was nearly on him. This would have to do. -</p> -<p> -He took a deep breath, coiled like a spring and jumped. He tossed his -rapier into the air, spun around, back parallel to the ground, and -threw his dagger out behind him. He continued his rotation and found -the strut at the same time the rapier bounced against it. The blade -followed the curve upwards and then fell off to the side. Jal reached -out with his legs and caught it with his foot. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi turned the corner quickly, moving to follow him, but had stop -to knock aside the dagger inches from his face. He glared across the -gap. -</p> -<p> -Jal pulled himself up with a deep groan and the heavy rumbling breaths -of a dragon. More than forty feet below him from the throne chamber, -Ul'Ilindith smiled wickedly. -</p> -<p> -Jal watched as Tastavi's furious glare turned into a look of panic. -</p> -<p> -Several web strands twinged near Jal's head and a slight clicking -sound came from somewhere disturbingly close by. -</p> -<p> -"It's a spider isn't it?" -</p> -<p> -Tastavi's silence was telling. -</p> -<p> -"It's right behind me isn't it?…" -</p> -<p> -"…" -</p> -<p> -"Right." -</p> -<p> -Jal dropped to the strut just in time for the spider's jowls to snap -shut where he stood. He turned and sliced out with his rapier, tearing -away a thick strand of webbing. He wrapped it around his leg, then -jerked left and right, barely dodged the spider's next two rapid -attempts to capture him. He kicked out against it, not to hurt it, but -to use it as a springboard. He jumped back across the gap, sword -leading his way. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi saw the move coming and instead of falling back, he leaped -from the ledge as well in order to push Jal back into the line of attack -from the giant spider. They collided in midair and struggled over a -tiny ledge before both losing their footing and plummeting towards the -ground. -</p> -<p> -A sickening crunch echoed in the chamber. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi groaned upon the ground. Jal hung from the thick strand of -webbing just above him. They had fallen towards the center of the -room, nearby the spot where the fight had begun, before the throne. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi opened his blurry eyes to find Jal standing over him, or -rather, hanging over him, rapier at his throat. -</p> -<p> -"Very good, Jal. Now end it!" Ul'Ilindith cheered. -</p> -<p> -Tastadraa looked at her with disbelief. -</p> -<p> -Jal lifted his rapier, pressing it deep, drawing blood. Tastavi pulled -away, but winced at his multiple broken bones, some of which protruded -grotesquely and spouted little fountains of blood. He closed his eyes, -ready to accept his defeat if that was the will of the Spider Queen. -</p> -<p> -But instead, Jal shifted his weight to swing himself towards the -throne, brought his sword around, cutting the line holding him aloft, -and flipped over towards the dais. He landed with a roll, dodging the -lazy lunge of the zombie guarding the throne and sprang forward with -the grace of a cat and the speed of a scorpion. -</p> -<p> -A deep thunk and sudden rushing of air shattered the sudden -silence. Jal's rapier dug deeply into Ul'Ilindith's chest and blood -spurted from the wound. A second later, two dozen crossbow bolts hit -Jal in the chest and paralysis seeped into his muscles from each tiny -pinprick. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith's voice came through ragged slurping breaths, a spell of -some kind, and Jal found himself sprawling backwards, teeth chattering -and sword shattered into shrapnel in his hands. He landed roughly upon -the dais steps a few feet from the broken Tastavi who looked at him -aghast. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith's eyes changed to a deep black, and raven flames engulfed -her. She chanted with otherworldly power. Her wound closed. She began -to levitate and ripped off her stained clothes with revulsion. -</p> -<p> -"Once again you disappoint me my son. Watch what is borne of your -failings!" -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith turned ruefully towards the bound kobold and sent forth -waves of necrotic energy that quickly tore her apart. Jal tried to -scream, but his mouth refused to open and his voice left him silent in -his agony. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith was not finished though. -</p> -<p> -"I'll show you the cost of your weakness! Watch as I cut it out." -</p> -<p> -Instead of turning her wrath on Jal, she turned on Tastavi, pointing a -rueful finger and chanting. Soon lightning arced between her fingers, -gathering for discharge. -</p> -<p> -"Noo!!" Tastadraa screamed, breaking ranks and standing between his -son and his sister. He held aloft a glowing shield emblazoned with -the lightning symbol of the surface god Talos, and in his other hand a -broadsword wreathed in black flames. -</p> -<p> -"I shall not allow this!" He called to her. -</p> -<p> -"This is not yours to decide, Elderboy." she spat back. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith let fly her spell, and lightning shot from her finger to -the waiting Tastadraa. Electricity sparked and crackled as the shield -focused and contained it. What little hair remained on Tastadraa's -balding head stood straight but his look of determination and -concentration disrupted whatever mirth could be garnered from the -sight. He brought around his sword and rapped it against the crackling -shield and then with a wave of his arm, released the energy at the -ground beside him. Lightning arced into the stone and it exploded with -a deafening blast. -</p> -<p> -Tastadraa stalked slowly forward towards Ul'Ilindith. -</p> -<p> -"I'm sorry, Sister, but this is not how the D'Maelnor line shall -end–with an abomination." -</p> -<p> -Guards swarmed from beside the throne and drew swords–drow that -Tastadraa had taught. But he had not taught them everything. Two moved -forward to engage him. Their heads fell to the floor and corpses -turned to ash beneath his wicked blade. -</p> -<p> -The rest of the guards looked to the powerful siblings and decided to -refrain from allowing their duty decide their deaths. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith sneered. She began to chant again, her eyes rolling up -into her head. The air grew dense inside the throne room, thick and -stifling, beads of sweat began to form and run down Ul'Ilindith's -naked body. -</p> -<p> -Tastadraa stalked forward with the shield of Talos held high. -</p> -<p> -Beside the throne, the twisted and battered form of Jal's adopted -mother began to twitch. -</p> -<p> -She finished her incantation, but waited to unleash the spell to -gloat, "Lets see your blasphemous surface god save you from this one." -</p> -<p> -Her hand jerked spasmodically and green bile erupted from the air -around it in a stream and blasted Tastadraa to the ground. Contagion -spread across his body wherever the stuff touched and ate away his -skin. At the same time the kobold skeleton began to slowly shift into -place, ligaments forming, muscle growing upon the shifting bones. -</p> -<p> -But Tastadraa was not finished, he pushed with his rotting limbs and -triggered the levitation on his amulet. He rose, blade poised to end -the conflict with a single vorpal strike. Then his body fell limp and -he hung awkwardly in the air, his head crushed from behind by the maw -of a giant spider. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi cried out in anguish. -</p> -<p> -Paralyzed by more than just the drow poison, Jal watched the scene -progress in horror. Tastadraa was nothing more than a decaying pile of -flesh, Tastavi lay broken by his fall, his adopted mother under the -throes of some insidious magic. -</p> -<p> -Only Ul'Ilindith seemed unharmed, floating above them all cherishing -the moment. -</p> -<p> -The ground began to shake. -</p> -<p> -"Fool, don't you see? A traitor and his son are revealed and Lolth has -shown me favor! The dead rise. Even Toril trembles! This is the will -of Lolth!" -</p> -<p> -She continued, addressing the guards, "Now. Do as I commanded." -</p> -<p> -A crossbow bolt zipped past Jal's frozen face. The whole world seemed -to stop. But the bolt was not indented for him. Beside him, Tastavi's -scream became a gurgle as the crossbow bolt in his throat quickly -drained him of both the air and the blood needed to circulate it. -</p> -<p> -Jal retched involuntarily, and could taste the poison on his lips. -</p> -<p> -The shaking intensified in the chamber. A column came down in dozens -of jagged pieces. Guards ran about, dodging falling debris and -spiders. -</p> -<p> -Tastavi breathed his last, slumping against the broken stone. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith, levitating, but stationary in the air was pelted with -rock fragments and quickly began her descent. -</p> -<p> -Jal's anger flared within him, but fear helped him keep his head and -push away the worst effects of the poison. What was going on? -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith reached the ground and began to hurry towards Jal, still -paralyzed upon the dais steps, but a curious laugh stopped her. -</p> -<p> -"Hahaha, 'da will a Lolth you say?" The scratchy voice became clearer -by the second. Ul'Ilindith turned to the living kobold slowly standing -up where her corpse should have rested. Her scales grew back in -patches, and she peered at the Matron Mother with one regenerated eye. -</p> -<p> -"No my dear, this…" she gestured to the chaos around her. -</p> -<p> -"…is the will of Tiamat." -</p> -<p> -The ceiling collapsed. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-24" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-24"><span class="section-number-2">24</span> Doom</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-24"> -<p> -Often a dragon's roar precedes its breath, but Ik'lithslaelith was too -cautious and too clever for that. When he roared over the shattered -second house of Llolethane-Mael'na'rath, it was a roar of victory. He -watched the wreckage from the shadows for a time, but his instructions -had been clear: leave nothing behind–and then leave. He disappeared -into the forgotten tunnel and was gone. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-25" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-25"><span class="section-number-2">25</span> Destruction</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-25"> -<p> -The palace fell. -</p> -<p> -A lone drowess rose from the ashes at the edge of the desolation. The -acid dripped from her hands, from her hair, and fell sizzling to the -ground leaving her unharmed. Lady Lolth had long ago given her a -defense against such poison, when she carried it in her womb. -</p> -<p> -Ul'Ilindith stood alone in the rubble and followed the only other pair -of footprints leaving the shattered homestead: her son's. -</p> -<p> -Jal limped through the wreckage, dragging Tastavi's body behind -him. It had to be around here somewhere. He hefted a door-sized piece -of slate from a shimmering object sticking out from underneath it. A -drained and blistered hand held fast to a broken sword, but what -attracted Jal's eye was a thin piece of white velvet. Jal took the -mask and dropped the slate back into place, reverently. -</p> -<p> -He turned to the body and rasped, "It doesn't look like either of us -will be leading any armies today. Please forgive me." He placed the -velvet mask on Tastavi's face and began the attunement ritual. He left -the cavern once again fully drow, wearing the face of his friend, and -carrying his inheritance, a silver shield of a strange surface god, -upon his back. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-26" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-26"><span class="section-number-2">26</span> Dreams</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-26"> -<p> -Three Years Later… -</p> -<p> -Jal lay on his back on a roof overlooking a bustling marketplace and -stared dreamily at the cavern ceiling. It had been years since his -flight from the shattered D'Maelnor estate, and he had managed to find -some semblance of normalcy in Llolethane, the central cavern of the -drow city of Llolethane-Mael'na'rath. He rested his head on his -shield, now mostly painted black to blend in with the shadows, and -wondered what life would be like without a thousand tons of rock above -your head. He wondered what it would be like to fly. -</p> -<p> -Below him he heard the telltale laughter of the fat merchant leader he -had followed to this inn. He picked up his bow and his shield and -stalked to the edge of the roof above a window. He carefully dipped -the inner edge of the shield below the overhang and watched the party -descending the staircase in the cool golden reflection. Then he pulled -it back up, turned with his back to the alleyway, and counted -dramatically, with a familiar half-smile. -</p> -<p> -Three. -</p> -<p> -Two. -</p> -<p> -One. -</p> -<p> -Then he flipped from the roof, dropping below the lip and firing an -arrow through the window. He landed on the cavern floor with a roll -and disappeared into the shadows–just another renegade drow in a city -of renegades. He did not stay to confirm his success or failure, but -fled to where he could most easily disappear: the bustling -marketplace. -</p> -<p> -He strolled easily through the crowded streets. Though his appearance -was quite a bit more handsome than that he had grown up with, he could -still blend in with a crowd if he so desired. But then again, where -was the fun in that? He was dressed in fine silks and jewels, not -rags. And with a small lump beneath his throat, unquestionably -covering a house insignia, he was obviously a noble and was given a -wide birth by the lesser folk. He casually examined the merchandise of -a few carts, but exuded little outward care for the whole venture, -particularly when several guards burst from the inn and sent rogues -into back alleys to seek an assassin. -</p> -<p> -He eventually made his way into this same inn, and dodging guards -carting some new lordling's inherited possessions from an upper room, -was addressed cordially by a concierge, "Ah, welcome back Sir! It -appears that you are in luck, a room has just opened up for you." -</p> -<p> -Jal smiled to himself and turned to dismiss the man with a "Thank You." -</p> -<p> -He never finished that thought. -</p> -<p> -The man was dead. -</p> -<p> -He stood, smiling pleasantly in demure house leathers with half of his -face melted off to the bone, dripping tar-like blood upon his fine -padded vest. A spider crawled out from where his ear should have been -and snickered at him. -</p> -<p> -Jal backed away slowly aghast, but everyone else went stoically about -their business, unperturbed. The room grew dark and Jal turned to the -window. A thick spiderweb had covered it with a hand-sized spider -hurriedly wrapping a struggling shape. A tiny dragon's wing jut from -the bundle. -</p> -<p> -Jal ran. -</p> -<p> -He sprinted from the inn and disregarding caution, fled through the -black alleys and twisted honeycomb and spiderweb streets. It was like -the passages were built to be confounding, and yet somehow mercilessly -efficient. In a matter of moments he was back amid the ruins of the -old city, broken homes and discarded people. Screams from behind him -followed, the sounds of the guards seeking an assassin. But much -worse, the sounds of shattering stone and a deafening roar echoed -through the cavern. Jal scurried through the final alleyway and dove -into his hideout in an abandoned sewer tunnel. He dropped his rich -clothes in the muck and crawled away on hands and knees. -</p> -<p> -He remembered the frantic cries of his mother being torn apart and -then her defiant laugh as the walls fell. Her last words echoed -through his mind, "the will of Tiamat!" Another vicious roar sent -ripples through the water and shivers through the very stone. He heard -the clicking of spiders in the distance, drawing nearer. Closing in. -</p> -<p> -He was being hunted. Franticly he drew the shield from his back and -over his head and grasped a small dagger in his hand. He was once -again a child, in loose-fitting kobold rags and with weapons he could -barely use. He huddled terrified in a dark corner. He closed his eyes -and begged whatever gods could hear him to escape. -</p> -<p> -A faint hiss cut through the clamor. Not a god, but a tiny snake, the -size of a little worm, crawled from the loose stones and looked up at -Jal, flicking its tongue inquisitively. The hiss grew louder, drowning -out the skittering of the approaching swarm and rumble of the -searching dragon. The serpent grew, coiling and stretching, always -watching. Jal found that he was no longer afraid, but curious. The -serpent grew to immense proportions filling the tiny sewer tunnel, -which became a great cavern, yet it still barely contained the -powerful creature. -</p> -<p> -Dendar, the Night Serpent, the Eater of the World, loomed over the -boy. She laughed with the might of thunder and the promise of -disaster. Jal found he could not move. -</p> -<p> -"Jal'Bror'Noloth, your dreamss are deliciouss." -</p> -<p> -Her huge tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, creating wind eddies -that buffeted Jal against the stone. Greasy spittle and half-devoured -bones–remnants of nightmares long forgotten–dripped from her -cavernous maw. Jal could not speak, not even think, as the stench of -nightmare overwhelmed him. -</p> -<p> -"Your nightmare though… tastess unique. Because it is true. And -closer than you think. Evil godss have planss for you it seemss." The -serpent hissed. -</p> -<p> -Jal shuddered. -</p> -<p> -Dendar laughed–a terrible rasping hiss. -</p> -<p> -"And yet… perhapss their planss are merely dreamss. Join me, little -drow-gon and while the godss fret for your fate, we shall feassst!" -</p> -<p> -Suddenly the world returned and Jal awoke from his reverie. What a -dream! What a nightmare! The details faded, chewed away from his mind, -but the image of the serpent and her strange offer lingered. -</p> -<p> -The quiet dripping of sewer water and occasional scurrying of rodent -or insect were the only sounds to be heard besides the dull pounding -of his heart. -</p> -<p> -He sat in the muck for hours. -</p> -<p> -They were never far behind. Staying in one place for too long was -dangerous, but something held Jal in place. Could he actually escape -it all? -</p> -<p> -Soon a distant splash alerted him to company. Heavy footsteps, -confident and strong, echoed through the tunnel. Throngs of rodents -scurried away from the sound, fleeing in terror they trampled on one -another. A light breeze blew through the stinking place from the -opposite end of the tunnel and the insects stopped their chattering, -frozen and reverent. Jal couldn't think. They'd found him. They'd both -found him. It was too late. -</p> -<p> -A lightning bolt streaked through the tunnel past him and a barbaric -roar answered it. -</p> -<p> -The wind began to howl through the tunnel like a cyclone and the -sounds of crumbling rock assailed him from both sides. -</p> -<p> -Jal grimaced and hesitated. But as the twin forms came into view, he -shouted into the clamor, "ENOUGH! Dendar! We are bound, now free me -from this place!" -</p> -<p> -<i>Wissse Choissce…</i> -</p> -<p> -Instantly a portal opened before him like a tear in reality and -brilliant light beamed through. Jal rushed into it and was transported -many miles away in an instant. A startled yell and the renewed sounds -of battle followed him through, but then there was nothing but -silence, the gentle breeze, and the burning light of the midday sun. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-27" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-27"><span class="section-number-2">27</span> The Surface</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-27"> -<p> -The blinding light of the Shaar's Summer Sun left Jal helpless. -</p> -<p> -He lay upon the ground thinking it maybe better he have died quickly -in the tunnels or upon his own blade. But such musings held no real -power, and with the setting of the Sun, and the rising of the lesser -evils of the moon and of the stars, he wept freely. For though he was -bound–and nightmares would indeed become routine while in service to -their master–for the first time in his life, he was free. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="outline-container-sec-28" class="outline-2"> -<h2 id="sec-28"><span class="section-number-2">28</span> Credits</h2> -<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-28"> -<p> -[Thank you for Reading! I'm Andrew Murrell, an aspiring D&D author and -dedicated DM. Check out my blog at <a href="http://AndrewDM.me/">http://AndrewDM.me/</a> [WIP] for -updates or if you'd like to see more stuff like this!] -</p> -</div> -</div> |