The Tale of a Priestess
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Amal'launim
- Posts: 159
- Joined: Thu Nov 26, 2009 9:18 am
-
Amal'launim
- Posts: 159
- Joined: Thu Nov 26, 2009 9:18 am
Re: The Tale of a Priestess
OOC:
And for those interested in reading about Amal’s temporary departure:
(DM approved story)
It all seemed so straightforward not more than an hour ago. Now everything was different.
An agonizing groan of pure suffering echoed dimly throughout the sealed room, telling an incomplete tale of the sinister atrocities that took place here not long ago. The dark figurine was stark naked, soaked in her own blood, and maliciously torn to shreds. The only evidence of her continued existence being the visible trembles due to an excruciating pain she so often had inflicted on others but never truly felt on her own delicate skin. Cursing herself silently, not daring to strain the injuries by vocalizing the frustrations just yet; having grown complacent over the past centuries she had come to rely too much on the natural resistance to physical injuries. She had neglected to even consider that demons of all creatures carried the natural weapons which could slice open her defence like a hot blade through butter. This was the first time she felt unconstrained pain.
The ritualistic summoning circle around her had been made to perfection, every grain of the fine golden powder arranged in a flawless pentagram by the hand of the First Wizard of House Mori’hyanda himself. Everything went according to the preparations, and she couldn’t quite take the hand of her stomach as if she already now could feel the unholy union growing inside her, consummated upon an altar dedicated to the Spider Queen for this one purpose. The obsidian dark lips twists and her entire face contorts into an almost unnervingly composed look as she grudgingly realise that she might very well die on this cold altar. With all the resolve she can muster the drowess manages to articulate a prayer in perfect Elven, the words almost dancing gracefully off the pert lips with all the devotion of her black heart.
“Dark Mother, I beseech you to come to my aid and restore my wounds!”
A wide-eyed look of desperation as the realisation washes in over her, an unpleasant apprehension that’s been growing in the back of her mind and now finally springs to life. The Test of Faith, she felt nothing but the excruciating pain as she was bereft of her divine gift yet again. For a moment the proud woman curls into a fetal position, images of the recent event surfaces and stings her pride deeper than any of the generous amount of wounds littered over her body could possibly reach. A bright flash of light, followed by a resounding snarl that provoked a nervous response even from the Matron Mother of House Mori’hyanda as she gazed upon the magnificent specimen of a glabrezu she had summoned into existence. The words still echoed in her mind, they seemed so confident at the time.
“I’ve bound you by name, whispered to me by the Queen of Spiders herself, your will is mine to command and I order you to give me a child worthy of my Dark Queen, Lolth!”
The effect was instantaneous and the twelve feet large creature was brought under a compulsion that predated even the magic of the Weave itself, as the muscular body broke through the invisible barrier that shattered under the ancient binding effect now placed on the creature. It moved with a malicious intent that seemed all too familiar to her own stride as the demon stepped up close to her, the lips of the horned doglike head twisted into a macabre smile revealing a muzzle full of razor sharp teeth. The four arms moved with an uncanny grace one would hardly attribute this giant of a beast, the two main arms ended in a pair of pincers easily capable of splitting a fully developed drow in half; while the two arms protruding from its chest seemed more humanoid notwithstanding the deceitfully sharp claws. The imposing stature of the demon rivalled the proud drowess’ radiation of authority and resolution, and for a brief moment the two malicious creatures looked into the others eyes and found a malevolent spirit kindred to their own. The voice resembled that of a human if not for the constant snarling as if the demon dog tried to remain courteous for just one more moment, the proud Matron Mother still not having realized the lethal blunder.
“Your wish, is my command Mistress Amal’launim of House Mori’hyanda... Whether you like it or not”
Without allowing the priestess the opportunity to remedy her inaccurate demand, a large pincher grabbed around her throat as the demon easily threw the arrogant drowess up in the air. The two clawlike hands grabbed onto the now exposed armour and tore it apart like a spider tearing the wings off a fly. There was nothing gentle or considerate in the act, it almost seemed as if the demon put every effort into testing the limits of the binding spell as it ravaged the physical manifestation of its antagonist; this insolent whelp who dared demand a gift from it so highly sought by others of her kind, she would get her prize but not without a cost in blood as the demon was denied her soul. Upon the altar of Lolth it claimed its price while mutilating the woman with all its being before finally giving her a gift that might prove just as deadly upon conception as the act itself.
She opened her eyes again, a determined look on the features of her face covered under blood. With an effort of will the broken and beaten drowess claws her way to the altar to find her belongings as she keeps repeating the phrase: “A Spider brings her web when she hunts, a Spider brings...” after what seems like eternity the little hand manages to get a hold of the intent object and pulls out a rod complete with a blue gem at the top. Speaking the correct command word she feels a wave of restitution coursing through her broken body as the worst injuries heal immediately under the magical effect.
The male standing watch outside the door had been firmly ordered not to even consider the possibility of opening the closed door. Despite the sounds being muffled through the thick door, it took little imagination to picture what had occurred and the only thing left to the imagination of the First Wizard of House Mori’hyanda was whether the Matron Mother still lived. After waiting a full hour after the screaming first started, an eerie silence fills the corridor while Istinid dutifully obeyed the unambiguous order to keep everyone out of the private chambers. It all happened fast from there, the door was forcefully kicked open and the male found himself forced into a corner as Amal’launim stood face to face with him. Without having fully understood how it happened, Istinid stood with several pieces of torn armour clutched against his chest while listening to the furious tone that served all too well as a cover for the exhaustion.
”Stop your pensiveness you fool! I want the armour repaired and cleaned within the hour, get my personal belongings packed. I’m leaving.”
A worried tone as he comes to realise what she means by leaving “J-jabress? Surely you do-“. He doesn’t get to finish another word before a hand clutches around his throat “I’m not here to explain myself to you, get to work or I’ll have a travelling cloak made out of your hide.” The crimson eyes watches as her obedient servant curtsy and carry out an order she suspect would strive against everything he had planned for. Despite the aching pain she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of putting him through this ordeal, she wasn’t the only one who had to suffer a test of Faith at least; in two years from now he would be summoned to find her and serve as an escort and protector while she gave birth to this blessing and nurtured it to an existence of violence and depravity. Within the hour Amal’launim took her leave from Sshamath, cloaked in shadows she travelled outside the reach of her would be assassins; carrying a treasure in her womb far more precious than the prestigious station of Matron which she had every intention of regaining upon her return.
"My Dark Mother favours only the strong and the prepared, I will be her Spider."´
And for those interested in reading about Amal’s temporary departure:
(DM approved story)
A Ritual of Favour and a Test of Faith
It all seemed so straightforward not more than an hour ago. Now everything was different.
An agonizing groan of pure suffering echoed dimly throughout the sealed room, telling an incomplete tale of the sinister atrocities that took place here not long ago. The dark figurine was stark naked, soaked in her own blood, and maliciously torn to shreds. The only evidence of her continued existence being the visible trembles due to an excruciating pain she so often had inflicted on others but never truly felt on her own delicate skin. Cursing herself silently, not daring to strain the injuries by vocalizing the frustrations just yet; having grown complacent over the past centuries she had come to rely too much on the natural resistance to physical injuries. She had neglected to even consider that demons of all creatures carried the natural weapons which could slice open her defence like a hot blade through butter. This was the first time she felt unconstrained pain.
The ritualistic summoning circle around her had been made to perfection, every grain of the fine golden powder arranged in a flawless pentagram by the hand of the First Wizard of House Mori’hyanda himself. Everything went according to the preparations, and she couldn’t quite take the hand of her stomach as if she already now could feel the unholy union growing inside her, consummated upon an altar dedicated to the Spider Queen for this one purpose. The obsidian dark lips twists and her entire face contorts into an almost unnervingly composed look as she grudgingly realise that she might very well die on this cold altar. With all the resolve she can muster the drowess manages to articulate a prayer in perfect Elven, the words almost dancing gracefully off the pert lips with all the devotion of her black heart.
“Dark Mother, I beseech you to come to my aid and restore my wounds!”
A wide-eyed look of desperation as the realisation washes in over her, an unpleasant apprehension that’s been growing in the back of her mind and now finally springs to life. The Test of Faith, she felt nothing but the excruciating pain as she was bereft of her divine gift yet again. For a moment the proud woman curls into a fetal position, images of the recent event surfaces and stings her pride deeper than any of the generous amount of wounds littered over her body could possibly reach. A bright flash of light, followed by a resounding snarl that provoked a nervous response even from the Matron Mother of House Mori’hyanda as she gazed upon the magnificent specimen of a glabrezu she had summoned into existence. The words still echoed in her mind, they seemed so confident at the time.
“I’ve bound you by name, whispered to me by the Queen of Spiders herself, your will is mine to command and I order you to give me a child worthy of my Dark Queen, Lolth!”
The effect was instantaneous and the twelve feet large creature was brought under a compulsion that predated even the magic of the Weave itself, as the muscular body broke through the invisible barrier that shattered under the ancient binding effect now placed on the creature. It moved with a malicious intent that seemed all too familiar to her own stride as the demon stepped up close to her, the lips of the horned doglike head twisted into a macabre smile revealing a muzzle full of razor sharp teeth. The four arms moved with an uncanny grace one would hardly attribute this giant of a beast, the two main arms ended in a pair of pincers easily capable of splitting a fully developed drow in half; while the two arms protruding from its chest seemed more humanoid notwithstanding the deceitfully sharp claws. The imposing stature of the demon rivalled the proud drowess’ radiation of authority and resolution, and for a brief moment the two malicious creatures looked into the others eyes and found a malevolent spirit kindred to their own. The voice resembled that of a human if not for the constant snarling as if the demon dog tried to remain courteous for just one more moment, the proud Matron Mother still not having realized the lethal blunder.
“Your wish, is my command Mistress Amal’launim of House Mori’hyanda... Whether you like it or not”
Without allowing the priestess the opportunity to remedy her inaccurate demand, a large pincher grabbed around her throat as the demon easily threw the arrogant drowess up in the air. The two clawlike hands grabbed onto the now exposed armour and tore it apart like a spider tearing the wings off a fly. There was nothing gentle or considerate in the act, it almost seemed as if the demon put every effort into testing the limits of the binding spell as it ravaged the physical manifestation of its antagonist; this insolent whelp who dared demand a gift from it so highly sought by others of her kind, she would get her prize but not without a cost in blood as the demon was denied her soul. Upon the altar of Lolth it claimed its price while mutilating the woman with all its being before finally giving her a gift that might prove just as deadly upon conception as the act itself.
She opened her eyes again, a determined look on the features of her face covered under blood. With an effort of will the broken and beaten drowess claws her way to the altar to find her belongings as she keeps repeating the phrase: “A Spider brings her web when she hunts, a Spider brings...” after what seems like eternity the little hand manages to get a hold of the intent object and pulls out a rod complete with a blue gem at the top. Speaking the correct command word she feels a wave of restitution coursing through her broken body as the worst injuries heal immediately under the magical effect.
The male standing watch outside the door had been firmly ordered not to even consider the possibility of opening the closed door. Despite the sounds being muffled through the thick door, it took little imagination to picture what had occurred and the only thing left to the imagination of the First Wizard of House Mori’hyanda was whether the Matron Mother still lived. After waiting a full hour after the screaming first started, an eerie silence fills the corridor while Istinid dutifully obeyed the unambiguous order to keep everyone out of the private chambers. It all happened fast from there, the door was forcefully kicked open and the male found himself forced into a corner as Amal’launim stood face to face with him. Without having fully understood how it happened, Istinid stood with several pieces of torn armour clutched against his chest while listening to the furious tone that served all too well as a cover for the exhaustion.
”Stop your pensiveness you fool! I want the armour repaired and cleaned within the hour, get my personal belongings packed. I’m leaving.”
A worried tone as he comes to realise what she means by leaving “J-jabress? Surely you do-“. He doesn’t get to finish another word before a hand clutches around his throat “I’m not here to explain myself to you, get to work or I’ll have a travelling cloak made out of your hide.” The crimson eyes watches as her obedient servant curtsy and carry out an order she suspect would strive against everything he had planned for. Despite the aching pain she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of putting him through this ordeal, she wasn’t the only one who had to suffer a test of Faith at least; in two years from now he would be summoned to find her and serve as an escort and protector while she gave birth to this blessing and nurtured it to an existence of violence and depravity. Within the hour Amal’launim took her leave from Sshamath, cloaked in shadows she travelled outside the reach of her would be assassins; carrying a treasure in her womb far more precious than the prestigious station of Matron which she had every intention of regaining upon her return.
"My Dark Mother favours only the strong and the prepared, I will be her Spider."´
Amal'launim - She's up to something...