Tales from below...

[broham1]

///I started this thread so we as players of Underdark characters can share stories together. They can be DM events or fiction. Please keep the OOC out of this thread. It is for IC accounts only. Thanks!

///This can be used to translate. http://www.eilistraee.com/chosen/language.php

[broham1]

Attack in the Tunnels

The tunnels were damp and he could hear water ahead. Quietly he crept through the tunnel, knowing that water meant life in most cases. Peering over the ledge into a vast open cavern, Selds’eth spotted a small band of svirfneblin filling their skins in the freshwater pool. The deep gnomes were hastily speaking back and forth, their body movements showing nervousness. Seven he counted.

He slipped back into the cavernous tunnels and thought for a moment. Seven. Too many for him alone. They may be seasoned warriors. They may have one that speaks with stone amongst them as well. No, not alone. He removed his glove and retrieved a dagger from his weapons harness. Whispering a few words to his Lady, Selds’eth runs his palm along the blade. As the blood hits the floor of the tunnel there is a small red flash and a cloud of darkness fills the space. From that darkness steps an undead minion, a slave to the will of the summoner. A small smile crept across Selds’eth’s face as he replaced the glove on his hand.

The group of svirfneblin had finished replenishing their stock of fresh water and were preparing to depart when their journey took a turn for the worse. One of the deep gnomes shouted to the others as he saw the skeletal minion clamber over the rocky terrain towards the group. Instantly they readied themselves for the fight to come, gathering weapons and shields. As the skeleton reached the two closest warriors they found the true power of the summon. It swung in an arch with its halberd nearly cleaving the svirfneblin in two, spraying its teammates in a pool of blood. It quickly pulled the wedged weapon from the chest cavity of the first and came down and around the falling gnome impaling the second through the thigh. Then raking upward slicing through his chest, neck and face.

Selds’eth watched with glee as his undead minion tore through the ranks of the unfortunate travelers. He quietly slipped his blade from its scabbard as the skeleton laid waste to the third of the group, smashing it’s face with the shaft of his halberd...then bringing the business end down upon him as if he were a fell tree. The fourth called out to his remaining companions in a tongue Selds’eth didn’t understand. It didn’t matter his body language gave his emotions away as he yelled and stumbled back, adding distance between himself and the attacker from beyond the grave. In an attempt to save himself and his friends the svirfneblin threw the hammer he held in his hand toward the undead. It smashed against the skeleton's rib cage shattering several ribs, hindering the attacker.

Knowing that his minion hadn’t much time left upon this plane, Selds’eth conjured an innate ability of his kinsmen. Darkness began to circle and surround the remaining four. One of the gnomes yelled out a word. It was a word Selds’eth had heard before. It was the word for Drow in the deep gnomes tongue, and it echoed through the cavernous vault in which they defended.

The undead advanced toward its prey, pinning it against the jagged rocks that composed the walls of the cave. There it held the svirfneblin, with all its cries of agony…until blood gurgled from its mouth nose and ears. There was chanting within the darkness, the drow knew this wouldn’t end well for his minion.

With a loud crack the skeletons bones split and strained against the will of the deep gnome. It was calling for the aid of its patron. Asking his divine father to smite this abomination before him…and he did. The sound of bones splitting asunder rang throughout the cave as the undead minion exploded, shattering into thousands of tiny bone fragments.

Pulling a wand from his belt, Selds’eth warded himself the best he could. The magic from the wand surrounded him. He felt a tingling sensation as several images of himself split away from the original. Confusion would be his ally. Perhaps this would buy him some time before the deep gnome could call upon his god once more. Gripping his sword in one hand and his shield in the other, Selds’eth descended upon the remaining three.

The chanting started again. Haste took hold of the drow as he twisted his bracers while speaking a command word. The distance between predator and prey closed in an instant. Speaking another command word while concentrating on the one chanting produced a flash of purple light that enveloped the cleric. In mid chant the deep gnome began to writhe as his life force was stripped from his being. Aging him instantly as he withered to dust and crumbled on the floor of the cave.

A small smile of satisfaction crawled over Selds’eth’s face as his dove in piercing one of the remaining two through the chest as he desperately attempted to escape. The drow’s blade cut through his armor as if it wasn’t there, finding the svirfneblins heart ending its futile attempt.

“Yutsu ulu dosst delmah, neitar ulu yutsu.” the drow spoke calmly standing over the remaining gnome. “Nindolen har'ollen ph'serus a ilythiiri, nind ph'naut whol dosst valyrin. TAKATA!”, he sheathed his weapon as the last of the travelers scurried away into the tunnels, never looking back.

Quickly and quietly Selds’eth gathered what gear and supplies he could from the bodies and packs of the fallen gnomes, then made his way back to Sshamath.

[Rainbow Prism]

Survival of the Fittest: Part 1

Awaken...

Word that barely made any sense in his mind. Did he think mind? There is nothing like that. He is dead. Every pragmatic being of his soul said that.

Awaken.

Again, this word without any voice behind it compels to open the eyes. It asked impossible, Antanozz knew. Black fog surrounding him, he prepared to fall into the pits to meet his doom, be it spider feeding on his soul or chains of hell.

Wake up, you fool!

Eyelids opened widely, to surprise of the drow. He felt darkness retreating and features coming to sight. It was impossible, unbelievable and outrageous, but it was true.

He was alive.

First feeling in his body was ache in the forehead. Memory still not clear, mind full of loopholes, many contracts he took and principles of ambush started to work. The more he tried to contemplate, the more his head pulsed with blunt pain, coming from the area of his temple. Hoping it was not illusion of some demon, Antanozz tried to move his hand.
The limb wearily given in to force of his muscles. Feeling of power surging with blood that makes bone obey was exhilarating. Was that joy of life? He did not care a bit. All he could think of was burning forehead as he exercised fingers before his eyes.
Carefully, his fingers moved, sensing an object that was piercing his head. Just a shape and feeling of his limb gave a detailed information about it.
Crossbow quarrel, metallic, short, made for hand crossbows, standard length, good balance. Tip submerged in his skull for most of the part, piercing the skull and stabbing his brain. Most likely poisoned for mortal strike.
Only last statement was wrong, obviously.
The pain pulse was unbearable.
Knowing that there is no time for delicacy, second hand joined the first, clasping the shaft. Gasping for more air, drow tugged, intent of taking out projectile. Cry of his aching flesh only multiplied his strength with each second. Finally, with splash of blood, the bolt was dislodged.
Immediately palms moved to stop massive bleeding that may return him to oblivion. He was surprised to feel the bone and skin under his hand closing at incredible rate. Antanozz knew that not being possible under normal circumstances.

If something is not normal, why not search for it?

The voice. It was suggestive. Whoever it was speaking, he said good point. Drow stood up to check his state and surrounds.

[Rainbow Prism]

Sitting near warm fire on corpse of displacer beast, warrior contemplated silently, looking at his bleeding palm. Now it is certain he is not given blessing of permanent immortality. Whatever that helped him survive and left instead of fatal hole in his head a cross shaped scar, it was given only once. Question remained about whose doing it was and why.
Antanozz despised idea of someone pitying him and slowly resurrecting him without any payment or gain. It was against all he ever stood - survival of the strong, succession system, mercenary code...

Hellooooooo!

And that voice. It sounded familiar, but drow could not remember when or where he heard it. This voice, taunting him, ridiculing him, annoying, breaking his concentration. At least, whoever was speaking, he (and he was certain it was male) made no threats. Just watched and talked out of shadows. There was not even trace of him. Smile came to cold lips in careful admiration.

He was good.

Why, thank you!

And mind reader?!

A frightening notion came to his recovering mind. It may be illusion. A dream, instilled by mind-controlling haze of aboleth or illithid which he now faces unconscious and possibly, being eaten alive as he thinks.

I am on your side!

"Common lie." mercenary growled at voice.

Not exactly. Why, I will even give you a hint. Why not visit your old abbil? Perhaps the youngster made a mistake. Happens to anyone.

That warrior denied. Why? He remembered.
Sharp sight let him see a vicious smile after successful hit. He knew why he did not shoot as fire support as planned, forcing him to shoot the mark instead. Boy held his arrow on purpose, aiming at him. Such skill, aim and passion to get title of the best and inherit his reputation in betrayal which was common in their life. His apprentice was good, and in his death, sharpshooter gave a hint of grin.
Now, some stranger gives second chance without revealing himself and says it was all a fluke.

You have a chance. You survived. You are strong. Stronger than him. Why hesitate?

"Because you just aim to manipulate me, like many did before." Carefully, male took bloody meat and chomped on it, aware of surroundings.

Is it so different from usual life? You have second chance. Now that you are alive, you can go and kick out that loser before he ruins reputation of your business.

It was true. The boy was incompetent. To prevent resurrection, he should have at least burn the corpse. It all fell into place.

He should come back and return his career.

[Rainbow Prism]

Careful step with trained silent grace led this killer to his target. Already path was known to him, yet caution made mercenary hesitate. He still could not get used to someone rather loudly throwing insults and mockeries in his mind at the most crucial moment requiring maximum concentration to not accidentally step on loose trap. The devices could not do him much harm - they faced their maker. However, just one can alarm lord of this house to call guards to overpower him. True, he could try to deal with them, yet it was unpaid effort with little prestige to reputation.
Few more steps and new sturdy hand crossbow was drawn out, notched with mildly poisoned quarrel. This small dart was more a support than actual weapon. Useless in frontal assaults, they were as effective as daggers against golem.

Then why use it?

"Because I need to give message!" Another stupid question came at wrong moment, nearly making him stand on nearly invisible strand.

Hmmmph. Showoff.

Off course, that was far from truth. The plan, that is.
Already curtain to the chambers was near.
Careful hand movement moved beads without any noise whatsoever. However, that was all in naught. Fire in brazier was burning, illuminating comfortable leather chair and it's owner, whose lithe frame was sitting in it, quite relaxed. Sensitive eyes saw red lips cringing in smile.

"Welcome, Gambler! I have been waiting for you."

When first word sounded, Antanozz already got aim and shot to kill, aiming in exposed throat. Curses were spat and unknown mentalist was laughing at failed attempt when bolt hit invisible wall in front of drow woman. The distance and certain impact identified familiar magic of Force Wall spell. He really hated this spell, not finding a way to destroy it without loosing expertise merc was proud of.

It was trap all right.

"So, Gambler, want me to call guard or you shall sit and talk about old days?" Wave of her hand to the side produced similar furniture to appear in front of brazier facing mistress.

"Do not play me for a fool. Just end it." Harsh growl came through grit teeth of warrior.

"End? What exactly? A good relationship with my old enemy and business partner to start new fight with some youngster you was so proud off that you let him kill you in such blatant treachery? Or your current miserable state of confusion about why you stand here without me trying to send you to Dark Mother as you deserve, heretic?" Confident smirk was still lasting, fire opening polished chitin eyepatch to light. "Well, never considered you thought so little of me, darling. Sit. We have much to talk about."

Little was left other than playing the game of this priestess. Taking no rash choices, mercenary moved through dissipating force field, sitting in embrace of exquisite silks.