The Culture of Candy:
Slassa had just finished indulging herself in a laborer's task (shameful as it was) of retrieving ore for a duergar trader. He was clearly of the local clan Shield Breaker, and had an affinity for keeping it civil until the bargain was over.
After she was paid a modest sum for her degrading endeavors, the trader once again courted the discussion with that brutal duergar honesty.
Trader: "Thar ye go. Now get lost."
She retained her usual small smile, bowed her head, and commented...
Slassa: "I do so adore your honesty... as refreshing as your business ethics. Very well, I will 'get lost' as you say. Good dark."
She had just turned around before he stopped her.
Trader: "Wait! ... want some candy?"
Slassa had a sweet tooth without compare. Indeed, one day it could even be exploited as a weakness. She turned around, and leaned over again. She was very tall after all, standing about seven feet length.
Slassa: "Yes... I would deeply appreciate it."
He planted a small satchel of skull-shaped delights in her palm. She retained her smile, bowed her head once again, and began to make off with the small bag of goodies. Once she had made it to Gloura's, she immediately checked for poison using that o-so helpful cantrip of hers. She was happy to find it was untainted, and immediately dug in.
The moral of this story is that, while a savage may -deserve- your ire, it is far better to befriend and benefit off their wretched existence, rather than satiate that one moment of self-satisfaction in verbal, or even physical, retaliation. In the end, it doesn't matter who wins or loses... only who has the blasted sweets in her mouth.
Codex of Appeasement; Slassa's Tales of Survival in the Dark
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Slaanesh the Wicked
- Posts: 24
- Joined: Thu Aug 18, 2011 6:27 pm
-
Slaanesh the Wicked
- Posts: 24
- Joined: Thu Aug 18, 2011 6:27 pm
Re: Codex of Appeasement; Slassa's Tales of Survival in the
Where you least expect it:
The goblin ran into the stream screaming. The fire had already given him third-degree burns, and thus it only ended up throwing him in even more agony. Slassa was reeling back for another spell as an extra pair of kobolds were rushing behind her with their spears. Those still cowering behind the barricades infront of her were screaming in their own language,"Keep back! Keep back!". But by the time the two began to falter, it was too late. Another burst of fire flushed from her. One of the kobolds managed to leap behind a stalagmite in time to avoid the blast. His kin was not so lucky, flailing on the ground as he was burning alive.
Slassa was running out of spells to throw at the kobolds, and they only seemed to keep coming. Just how many of these escaped slaves were there anyway? She knew if things continued as they were, she would be forced to give up one of the precious scrolls she had been saving for study. After weighing the value of her life against a semi-common spell on papyrus, she decided the former was more important.
There were still six kobolds, including the one hiding behind the stalagmite. The goblinoids had already thrown themselves at her first, but they did so in a manner similar to orcish warfare. Hoping numbers would trump raw power and rushing blindly into a deathtrap that was their flaming doom. The kobolds on the other hand were chucking boots, rocks, spears, and even garbage at her. They knew from the demise of their goblinoid allies that the farther they were from Slassa, the better. Unfortunately, her wards and enchantments were making it nigh impossible for them to even hit her. Between the magic shell that was warding off the junk thrown at her and the ghostly visage that kept her flesh safe, the kobolds knew that without serious muscle or magic this fight was going to be their last.
As if an answer to their prayers, one of the Bugbears that had taken the escaped slaves in was rushing at her from the same direction the failed flankers had took before. The kobolds rose from their cover and cheered at their champion as he roared with fury, his giant club raised as he was ready to pummel Slassa into the ground.
His first mistake was taking in these escaped slaves. His second was letting her know he was there. His third was not recognizing the scorched corpses laying about. Slassa reeled back her hands back for one final blast of flame.
As she uttered the incantation for her burst of flame, the bugbear did something she hadn't expected. The beast grabbed the cowering kobold behind the stalagmite by the collar, and threw the screaming creature at her like some sort of ball. The impact knocked her on her feet, the force of the blow bruising her side, and unfortunately for the kobold used as ammunition, a snapped neck was his reward for being such a good rock. The spell was lost, and the bugbear was still nearing closer. The kobolds were leaping out of their cover, daggers and shortswords raised as they took the opportunity given to them. She knew immediately that her life was on the edge now. She had only one tool left that could keep her alive... but it may very well affect her as well if she could not resist it. She took out one of her favorite wands, made of bone with the tiniest of skulls at the end. She tapped it on the ground a few times before smacking it right next to herself. The air seemed to go silent for everyone, even herself, as darkness engulfed. But it didn't end there...
Nightmarish visions began to overwhelm the weak-minded creatures. Kobolds hiding their faces from abominations and abberrations that simply weren't there. Even the bugbear fell on his tooshie, crawling away from what he thought was a dire spider ready to devour him. Slassa was wincing, sweating, doing all she could to resist the visions. In the end, the darkness soon faded, and she looked around at the cowering creatures still trapped in their alternate state of minds. She stood up in a casual manner, dusting herself before whipping out the scroll she had in reserve for just such an occassion.
When the visions faded, the kobolds turned their gaze to the Umber Hulk that was breaking their beloved champion in half. A sickening crack of the bones erupted, before the creature smashed one of their ilk into the ground with the corpse... using it as a club. They screamed and fled back behind their barricades, but there was no escape this time. The Umber Hulk smashed it's hand through one of the barricades, grabbing two of the unfortunate creatures as it squeezed the life out of them. Those who beheld their demise fled further back still, hoping to hide amongst the many barrels and crates they pilfered off of their former masters' traders. The Umber Hulk walked in, dropping all the bodies. The kobolds hid well, but could not hide from the creature's echo-senses. Their fast-beating hearts was all it needed to see where they were. The Umber Hulk raised its fists before repeatedly, and brutally, pounding the piles of goods into shattered pieces, alongside the last few kobolds. When it was over, the creature hunched as it slowly reverted back to it's true form... Slassa Evron.
She looked to the right to notice one of the kobolds was still barely alive. Unfortunately both of his legs were missing, so escape was not an option here. The creature had something in it's hand... a scroll maybe? Yes, it unfolded it while turning in an aching manner towards her. It coughed up some blood as it tried to read the parchment... but it knew nothing of magic. And to it's disappointment, Slassa was already nearing with a knife casually drawn from her sheath. She fiddled with it as she looked down at the pitiful creature. It was gurgling as it curled up, covering it's head.
Though she had been entrusted to decimate the slaves, she couldn't help but pity the poor thing. It was already dying... and the only thing it had left was that piece of parchment her curiosity demanded. She leaned over, snatched the scroll from its hands, then waved 'bye bye' to the kobold with her knife, before sheathing it. Had she not been so weak in the face of such pity, the creature wouldn't have suffered the slow death she left it to face.
After receiving pay and imitated gratitude from the drow who sent her, she sat down in Gloura's Tavern, looking over the parchment she had pilfered from the slaves' den. She was astounded to see it was a scroll of True Sight... an uncommon scroll that gave one sight of that which was hiding, could be seen, and could not be seen through mortal eyes. She neatly tucked it alongside the others in her collection, before nodding with a satisfied grin.
The moral of this story is that, even in the most unlikely of places, one can find treasures of unparalleled worth.
Also that Umber Hulks are dangerous. Beware.
The goblin ran into the stream screaming. The fire had already given him third-degree burns, and thus it only ended up throwing him in even more agony. Slassa was reeling back for another spell as an extra pair of kobolds were rushing behind her with their spears. Those still cowering behind the barricades infront of her were screaming in their own language,"Keep back! Keep back!". But by the time the two began to falter, it was too late. Another burst of fire flushed from her. One of the kobolds managed to leap behind a stalagmite in time to avoid the blast. His kin was not so lucky, flailing on the ground as he was burning alive.
Slassa was running out of spells to throw at the kobolds, and they only seemed to keep coming. Just how many of these escaped slaves were there anyway? She knew if things continued as they were, she would be forced to give up one of the precious scrolls she had been saving for study. After weighing the value of her life against a semi-common spell on papyrus, she decided the former was more important.
There were still six kobolds, including the one hiding behind the stalagmite. The goblinoids had already thrown themselves at her first, but they did so in a manner similar to orcish warfare. Hoping numbers would trump raw power and rushing blindly into a deathtrap that was their flaming doom. The kobolds on the other hand were chucking boots, rocks, spears, and even garbage at her. They knew from the demise of their goblinoid allies that the farther they were from Slassa, the better. Unfortunately, her wards and enchantments were making it nigh impossible for them to even hit her. Between the magic shell that was warding off the junk thrown at her and the ghostly visage that kept her flesh safe, the kobolds knew that without serious muscle or magic this fight was going to be their last.
As if an answer to their prayers, one of the Bugbears that had taken the escaped slaves in was rushing at her from the same direction the failed flankers had took before. The kobolds rose from their cover and cheered at their champion as he roared with fury, his giant club raised as he was ready to pummel Slassa into the ground.
His first mistake was taking in these escaped slaves. His second was letting her know he was there. His third was not recognizing the scorched corpses laying about. Slassa reeled back her hands back for one final blast of flame.
As she uttered the incantation for her burst of flame, the bugbear did something she hadn't expected. The beast grabbed the cowering kobold behind the stalagmite by the collar, and threw the screaming creature at her like some sort of ball. The impact knocked her on her feet, the force of the blow bruising her side, and unfortunately for the kobold used as ammunition, a snapped neck was his reward for being such a good rock. The spell was lost, and the bugbear was still nearing closer. The kobolds were leaping out of their cover, daggers and shortswords raised as they took the opportunity given to them. She knew immediately that her life was on the edge now. She had only one tool left that could keep her alive... but it may very well affect her as well if she could not resist it. She took out one of her favorite wands, made of bone with the tiniest of skulls at the end. She tapped it on the ground a few times before smacking it right next to herself. The air seemed to go silent for everyone, even herself, as darkness engulfed. But it didn't end there...
Nightmarish visions began to overwhelm the weak-minded creatures. Kobolds hiding their faces from abominations and abberrations that simply weren't there. Even the bugbear fell on his tooshie, crawling away from what he thought was a dire spider ready to devour him. Slassa was wincing, sweating, doing all she could to resist the visions. In the end, the darkness soon faded, and she looked around at the cowering creatures still trapped in their alternate state of minds. She stood up in a casual manner, dusting herself before whipping out the scroll she had in reserve for just such an occassion.
When the visions faded, the kobolds turned their gaze to the Umber Hulk that was breaking their beloved champion in half. A sickening crack of the bones erupted, before the creature smashed one of their ilk into the ground with the corpse... using it as a club. They screamed and fled back behind their barricades, but there was no escape this time. The Umber Hulk smashed it's hand through one of the barricades, grabbing two of the unfortunate creatures as it squeezed the life out of them. Those who beheld their demise fled further back still, hoping to hide amongst the many barrels and crates they pilfered off of their former masters' traders. The Umber Hulk walked in, dropping all the bodies. The kobolds hid well, but could not hide from the creature's echo-senses. Their fast-beating hearts was all it needed to see where they were. The Umber Hulk raised its fists before repeatedly, and brutally, pounding the piles of goods into shattered pieces, alongside the last few kobolds. When it was over, the creature hunched as it slowly reverted back to it's true form... Slassa Evron.
She looked to the right to notice one of the kobolds was still barely alive. Unfortunately both of his legs were missing, so escape was not an option here. The creature had something in it's hand... a scroll maybe? Yes, it unfolded it while turning in an aching manner towards her. It coughed up some blood as it tried to read the parchment... but it knew nothing of magic. And to it's disappointment, Slassa was already nearing with a knife casually drawn from her sheath. She fiddled with it as she looked down at the pitiful creature. It was gurgling as it curled up, covering it's head.
Though she had been entrusted to decimate the slaves, she couldn't help but pity the poor thing. It was already dying... and the only thing it had left was that piece of parchment her curiosity demanded. She leaned over, snatched the scroll from its hands, then waved 'bye bye' to the kobold with her knife, before sheathing it. Had she not been so weak in the face of such pity, the creature wouldn't have suffered the slow death she left it to face.
After receiving pay and imitated gratitude from the drow who sent her, she sat down in Gloura's Tavern, looking over the parchment she had pilfered from the slaves' den. She was astounded to see it was a scroll of True Sight... an uncommon scroll that gave one sight of that which was hiding, could be seen, and could not be seen through mortal eyes. She neatly tucked it alongside the others in her collection, before nodding with a satisfied grin.
The moral of this story is that, even in the most unlikely of places, one can find treasures of unparalleled worth.
Also that Umber Hulks are dangerous. Beware.
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Slaanesh the Wicked
- Posts: 24
- Joined: Thu Aug 18, 2011 6:27 pm
Re: Codex of Appeasement; Slassa's Tales of Survival in the
Beware the Darkness:
It had been a long journey. Slassa and several companions had fought through ilithid thralls, umber hulks, a small band of helmed horrors, and even braved a mushroom forest populated by mushroom folk. Despite their acheivements, their task was far from over.
The drow Alienor had accepted a local merchant's task to retrieve some rather exotic goods. She approached the table of misfits at a trade outpost outside the city with the offer of a small fortune in exchange for the requested goods... an opportunity none of them could resist. A salamander's hide, a tremendous umber hulk hide, a beholder's eye, and fire essence. Theirs had not been entirely fruitless up to this point. They already had both hides, and it was concluded that it would be best to summon a fire elemental back at a summoning circle in the city. What was proving to be trying was their search for a beholder's eye. Any would do, however, the only beholder known in the region was selling goods in the city. Unless they wished to invoke the ire of Sshamath, they had no choice but to search for a beholder's lair. What they were looking for was a desired environment for beholders. High cavern ceilings that shadowed a passage into the lowerdark. So far their search had been fruitless for such a lair, but after crossing a bridge that lead away from the mushroom forest and making camp, it became abundantly clear how deep the adventurers were. If they weren't in the lowerdark yet, they were certainly nearing an entrance. It was cold, damp, and only growing more dangerous with each new threat. As she went through her spellbook, Slassa knew in her heart that they must have been nearing an entrance to the lowerdark. That familiar dead calm was haunting their camp.
She peeked outside once to make sure nothing was making it's way up from yet another tunnel leading to a lower cavern. She was delighted to see the svirf who had joined the group was keeping guard. How kind of him. She looked through the other side of the tent. Unfortunately, the same peace could not be had around the camp fire. The mighty tanarukk Grunk, who was probably the most delightful fiend-blood creature she had ever come across, was keeping watch on the bridge. She enjoyed how honest it was. More so, she enjoyed how he kept everyone safe without the demand for reward or respect. Was he an appeaser like her? Only time would reveal that question's answer.
Sadly Grunk was, once again, being abused by the cancerous tumor of the group... Kelana. A drow wizardess who would've made her ancestors proud. Her haughty attitude was complimented by a sociopath-psychosis that could easily scare a full grown man. When she wasn't speaking out loud of methods of torture she would like to try on this person or that, she was being a bigot and berating other 'lesser races' for their flaws, weaknesses, and impurity. Part of Slassa liked her honesty, while another wanted to suck her soul into a gem, only to crush it and send her screaming into oblivion. In the end, it was better not to start conflict with her. Kelana wasn't just a drow, she was of the Conclave. Neighbors Slassa was far from eager to cross on any subject or issue.
Alienor and Ithluulnlor were chatting away until Kelana berated Alienor as well for being an impure drow. It was true she didn't just refuse to worship the spider queen; she worshipped a god of nature... of all things. What was drow society coming to? That question gave Slassa more comfort in Kelana's actions. She was, if nothing else, fiercely protective of the drow identity that seemed to have dissolved with the lack of theocracy in Sshamath. Males were almost equals now; Lloth worship was almost non-existant; and the 'lesser races' were not just being tolerated, but accepted. Good for Slassa, bad for Kelana, she concluded.
She stuck her head back inside the tent, finishing her reading before taking a small nap. When next she woke, they'd be venturing in one of the darkest corners of the Underdark.
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The group decended into the cavern several hours later. It was cold before, but it was not downright freezing down here. If anything lived down here, it would probably be resistant to the cold. That chilling feeling had something else to it as they descended... something foul. Slithers of death magic could be felt in the air. Slassa felt it... Kelana fell it... just as Ithluuunlor did as welll; though no one spoke of it until they reached the bottom of the tunnel.
A vast underground cavern greeted them. To their right a river ran into an open underlarke. Slassa had seen underlakes before. This one was too small to sustain the large aquatic life it was her misfortune to encounter back far east in the Underdark. That didn't mean the waters were safe, however. She leaned over as the others walked onward to the small, natural bridge that lead across the river. There was something big down there... more than just one. The shadows in the water told tale of some horror waiting for one foolish enough to swim or even drink from the cavern's waters. That feeling of uncertainty... the unknown... it was the one feeling she could not hide on her face. There was fear in her eyes and on her lips as her head conjured images of some untold monsters ready to leap out and drag her in. But the sight of her allies crossing the bridge drew her attention away. She followed them after taking one more look into that all natural abyss. Some secrets were best left as such.
As soon as they crossed the bridge, Grunk sniffed the air profusely. It meant danger was nearby. Everyone except Slassa drew a weapon. The svirf Gvirk had his dagger drawn. Alienor's blessed mace shone like an eyesore, just as Grunk nearly made her giggle after drawing out two axes twice his size."How can something so small be so strong?" she wondered. The drow male Ithuulnlor already had his staff out. And Kelana? She was playing it safe with the beloved crossbow. She always found it odd when other mages tried to cast with one hand... how ineffective.
Already the danger of this cavern made itself known in a form most terrifying. Three skeletons with demonic tails were rushing towards the group. She knew what these things were called... Deathbringers. All she could remember is that fiendish involvement was present. Couple that with undeath and you have a fearsome foe. The skeletons were quick, and far more agile than anything she had animated herself in the past. Grunk and Alienor were taking the creatures head on in a charge. That was for the best, given the lack of skill Slassa and her mage companions sired in melee. Gvirk was latched onto Grunk's cloak, using him as something to hide behind before he'd leap out and give the wretches a nasty surprise. Slassa looked around before spotting a nearby corpse. A fallen adventurer with a scythe and modest plating to tell tale of his or her fall. Fleshless... it had been there awhile. Male, female, it mattered not; this was going to be her contribution to the fight. She muttered as her hands waved, then smacked the ground. The corpse immediately rose with a pale green light shimmering from its skull. It helped itself to its feet as it readied to join the fray. Slassa turned to look see Alienor smack one of the creatures right in the side. While it did do some damage, the skeleton was not disintegrated as she had hoped. Garuk was taking swings with his axes at one of the undead. Unfortunately he was only grazing the creature. When he wasn't grazing it, the monstrosity was downright dodging most of his blows. Gvirk had already leaped onto one of the undead. Stabbing mercilessly into the back of it's skull after having latched onto it from behind. Sadly it was doing little... and the creature was only distracted. Reaching back at him as he put full effort in avoiding its grasp.
Kelana and Ithluuunlor were throwing spells at the Deathbringers when the warriors allowed gaps for it. Slassa was actually walking around the creatures. She murmured slowly and quietly as she prepared to flush fire from behind. What she had noticed from the spells her drow companions were tossing was the creatures were resistant to the cold, and difficult to harm with anything less than divine, arcane, or elemental magic. By the time she had made it around the creatures, her hands began to crackle with flames. Alienor had felled one of the creatures already, but Grunk and Gvirk were still struggling with their kills. Gvirk, at least, was getting plenty of spells tossed on the distracted Deathbringer. It was perhaps for this reason Alienor assisted Grunk in felling his prey. Slassa began to release gushes of flame from her position. Smacking her palms against the ground with each release. She was getting adept at judging blast radius. With a wall of fire flushing out against them, the Deathbringers were soon harassed into stumbling and being forced ahead of their defensive stances. Grunk managed to cleave the leg bone off one of the creatures before Alienor slammed her mace into it's skull. Shattering it entirely before the two helped Gvirk chip away at the stubborn creature who just wouldn't do the decent thing and die. By the time it was over, the skeleton was finally charging over to aid with the battle. Slassa facepalmed as Kelana snickered. "You useless bag of bones...". Part of her felt bad for insulting her own minion. Another wished it understood it's failure. A pity neither side of her was satisfied.
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Hours passed as the adventurers explored the cavern. They were deep in the Underdark... very deep. If a beholder lair wasn't here, then there was little hope of finding it elsewhere. The group had come across several more Deatbringers. The creatures were taxing to defeat... and forced Slassa to animate more undead from the bodies of the few fallen they came across in the cavern. From time to time, they came across what they thought was some kind of goliath shade. But as soon as they neared it... it seemed to fade from reality. Illusions... or was there really something foul in the air?
As it was... the Deathbringers were not the most dangerous creatures in the cavern. Death Demons began to line up on a upward hill. Though they were few, the small wall of demonic goliaths was more than just daunting. It was a sign to retreat. The group backed up slowly. Fear was in everybody's eyes as they began to back up slowly. Deathbringers began to creep from underneath the palms of the demonic undead; this was the signal to run. The group fled all the way back to the cavern's bridge. Once across, it was a manner of returning to the mushroom forest's edge. Unfortunately, an ominous figure with a small cluster of ghasts at it's side was creeping across the bridge as the lesser undead began to crawl in a feral manner across at rapid speed. Immediately, Grunk rushed to the bridge's end alongside Alienor. Gvirk was going through an assortment of alchemical goodies to throw, before realizing this bridge was their only escape. A chilling factor that all the mages had to face before they began to cast singular spells. As orbs of elements and force flew threw the air, the defenders began to take defensive spots on the other side of the bridge. Alienor with her shield held high, Grunk with his axes twirling in anticipation, and Gvirk hiding behind a rock... hoping to get a shot at their master. Slassa looked back after her skeletal minion took position behind a stalagmite. No one was coming from behind... yet. That meant they had time to face this adversary. The question was... could they survive?
The ghasts leaped against Alienor's shield, signaling the end of attrition. A few had already fallen off the bridge from the magical barrage... but there was a good five more left slashing at the cleric's shield. Inthuulnlor and Kelana continued to toss elemental spheres and rays at the creatures. The upmost care was taken to avoid hitting their allies; Kelana, cruel as she was, even made the effort to get a better view of the ghasts by side-lining the battle. She recognized the value of her meatshields, at least. Slassa's minion was already hacking at the side of one of the ghasts, before he was tackled by another anyhow. She poured negative energy rays into the minion's husk; keeping it alive as her allies killed off the other ghasts with a series of hacks and swipes. Gvirk gave the skeleton reprieve after leaping and kicking the ghast off the minion. The mercy ended there as the skeleton found itself struggling to get back up on it's own.
As the final ghast was decapitated by Grunk, the Death Demon's visage sent a chill down their spines. It wasn't just close now... it was casting a spell. Alienor prayed to Gruumbar to smite the creature after slamming her mace into the ground. Her divine invocation conjured a hammer that flew with unrealistic speed at the demon. To everyone's awe and suprise, the hammer actually shattered against it... though it did leave a small hole in the monster's chest. It was empty, hallow, and full of darkness. Alienor brought her shield up to bear, becoming the creature's target of choice for the attempted attack. Gvirk and Grunk were already rushing across the the small bridge to try and stop it. And as usual, the other two mages were preparing or already throwing spells at the creature. Even as an orb of fire grazed its face, the demon unleashed a blast of eldritch energy that sent sent Alienor flipping backwards. Her face turned against the ground as blood oozed from her mouth. Was she dead? Slassa ran over with a kit ready... but it was already too late. That blast had shattered every bone and organ in her body. Her wide eyes turned to the creature as it prepared another blast; seemingly ignorant of its own body's destruction in face of so many spell blasts. But Grunk and Gvirk were able to stop it this time. Gvirk leaped toward it's left hand, and began to crawl up to its shoulder. The creature looked to him... a mistake; the moment gave Grunk the opportunity he needed to chop off its right hand. When the creature looked back to its right hand, then back to Gvirk, it was met with a dagger lodged in one of its empty eye sockets. Although Gvirk hadn't expected it to roar in pain, he hadn't expected it to be as agile and maneuverable as the Deathbringers. The robed demon suddenly kicked Grunk with such force, it sent him skittering across the bridge. Gvirk grabbed another dagger from his belt; reeling it before he was abruptly bashed in the face by the skull of the demon. He nearly fell off into the river, but the demon had other plans for him. He grabbed him by the collar, holding him up to his face before he began to suck the life force from Gvirk. The svirf screamed in untold agony as his body began to quickly dehydrate. Had the demon not been so focused on seeing the svirf suffer, it may have noticed Slassa's minion throwing it's scythe sideways.
The scythe slammed into it's side. It was a crude weapon... but the force of the throw was enough to penetrate the husk of the demon. It ceased draining Gvirk's life as it looked down at the scythe, and compliment of bolts slowly slamming into it's chest. It looked up to see the wizards, having spent themselves entirely of their spells, using crossbows in a respectable fashion behind the cover of stalagmites. Slassa was among them... having no more to offer than the distraction of an archer. The demon threw the svirf directly into a column of rocks that crumbled after being thoroughly penetrated by Gvirk's person. It looked down again to see the skeletal minion trying to yank its scythe out of its side. It tapped him on the helmet to get his attention before smacking him across the face with his remaining hand. The skull flew into the river, and body fell limp without it, following after its head into the ominous river. It knew that victory was close. The mages were spent, the svirf was all but killed, their precious cleric was shattered, and the orc-fiend-
The orc-fiend! The demon looked around for Grunk. It wasn't sure where he had gone off to. It looked around frantically before coming to the conclusion he had run off in fear. The creature threw back its free hand, preparing another blast... completely unaware of Grunk's cunning. Underneath the bridge, the grimly determined tanarukk was hugging the sides of the bridge. Crawling slowly, upside down, with one of his axes clenched between his teeth. He knew he didn't have much time before the others would be at the mercy of that thing's spells again; so time was a factor in the situation. He had just climbed up behind the demon as it threw its hand back. He had one chance... one golden opportunity before it was aware of his presence. He leapt high, screaming at the top of his lungs, before slamming his axe straight down. Its edge sank into the bridge, and he realized he had literally sliced the thing in half. Both halves of the undead demon fell off sideways off the bridge... darkness replacing the flesh that should've been as it leaked out. Bloodless... lifeless... unsatisfying prey.
Slassa made her way back to Alienor. She was just becoming familiar with the basics of medicinal practice... but it was unecessary to tell she was dead. Normally this would be disheartening, if not for the fact Alienor had scrolls of Raise Dead on her person. She 'borrowed' one after sifting through her things and beckoned the others to help her along as they brought her body into a large room previously overlooked in the cavern. She wished she hadn't.
This was what they had been looking for all along. A passage into the lowerdark... with an environment to suit the needs of beholderkin. She peered over with a grim look, noticing a few eyes slowly opening up in the darkness. "I think... I think we should leave." she forced out. When the others caught whiff of the danger, it was all they could do to drag out Alienor's body away from the pit. They were in no condition to fight beholders... and a whole group of them would mean a death sentence of challenged.
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Back in the camp on the edge of the mushroom forest, Alienor was slowly being nursed back to health. She had been brought back from the brink; but her injuries would need an adept healer's care. Care that was lacking in her companions, but not the city of Sshamath. Gvirk was walking again... but also severely injured. A trip back in such a condition could mean certain death, given what they would have to face to return. Provisions were relatively low, and there was the possibility of further attacks from the undead and demons from the lower caverns they had returned from. Gvirk was able to walk... but his skills at stealth and combat were non-absent. Alienor would need nothing less than Grunk's brooding strength to be transported safely across the Underdark in her condition. She was neatly tucked in a backpack on his back after a decision had been made by the group. The hunt was over... failure was the cup they drank from. The small fortune promised was forfeit; and the supplies and effort put into the venture. But when such losses were weighed against the risk of losing their lives... it became evident only the suicidal or insanely greedy would continue on with this trek.
Gvirk decided to stay behind after setting up a comfortable, yet cozy, little tent under a mound of rocks that would serve as cover from most predators. He insisted that it would be best for everyone if he remained behind to lick his wounds and return to Sshamath on his lonesome when he was ready. After seeing him in action... Slassa could believe he was capable enough to survive on his lonesome; if not limited towards his choice of interaction and food. She gave him a piece of duergar candy, piece of her gratitude, and a small handshake complimented with a smile as the others began to cross the bridge. With a final farewell, the others began their long trek back to Sshamath. The only one still sour was, of course, Kelana... who felt Alienor would serve better as an undead servant. Unfortunately for her, Grunk was more likely to bite her face off than let her finish animating his friend. Inthuulnlor and Slassa, as usual, tried their best to stay out of it.
Slassa looked back one more time... she could've sworn she heard a chilling whisper from the dark. "Join us..." it beckoned. Was she the only one hearing it? Or was everyone else ignoring it like she knew she should've? She shook her head before walking on. She wasn't about to be singled out as the mad or weak one in the group.
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The trek back was almost as dangerous as the trek to. Giant snakes and basilisks threatened the group when it wasn't Umber Hulks looking for a quick snack. Thankfully, Grunk's grim determination and downright stubborness in the face of such foes saw the others through. For a time, the party was separated by the bustle of Sshamath's streets. After scrying for a brief time, Slassa was able to reunite herself and Kelana with the men. Alienor was just waking up... to find herself at an altar of Llolth. It was astonishing, actually, for all... including Slassa... to find the spider queen so merciful to a drow cleric not of her own creed. It was also the final straw in what was a small haystack for Kelana. Slassa slowly backed away from the others as Kelana began an angry rant that lead to an oath of 'purging' the city of impure drow and non-illithyri. Well, she was spirited at least...
Slassa came across Grunk some time after. He was the hero of the cycle. Yes, he was hideous, but he was also one of the most civil orc-bloods she had ever come across. More than that... he was as useful as he was sane (in comparison to Kelana anyway) which had earned Slassa's respect. She had expected a fiendish orc blood to be the worst of savages... but found herself guilty of bigotry thereafter. In a show of thanks, and compensation for his efforts, she awarded the mighty tanarukk with not one... not two... but five pieces of candy. He had enjoyed that candy all throughout the trip... and had become quite fond of it. And why wouldn't he? Sour, crunchy, and plentiful; it was her favorite treat to. After a final farewell, she slowly began to walk away... running into Kelana again.
Kelana began to rant of Slassa's inevitable doom, torture, and typical bigotry against humans. She crossed the line when she threw her bile at Grunk... the creature she owed her life to. This drow had been long overdue for a painful lesson in humility. She flashed Kelana the rude finger before she began to walk off again. She didn't care if she saw or not... tomorrow would be the last day this drow's cruelty would be tolerated if she had anything to be said about it. Her mind pondered a thousand scenarios on how to approach the matter. Killing her would be too simple. And dangerous at that. But she was more familiar with drow society than Kelana cared to admit. And if Sshamath still functioned with the typical drow culture's virtues and values... that 'inferior human blood' would be Kelana's shame if all went according to the plot forming in her noggin.
The moral of this story is twofold. Weigh carefully the value of wealth in any shape or form and decide if it's worth your life.
The second... bigotry is for savages. You aren't a savage... are you?
It had been a long journey. Slassa and several companions had fought through ilithid thralls, umber hulks, a small band of helmed horrors, and even braved a mushroom forest populated by mushroom folk. Despite their acheivements, their task was far from over.
The drow Alienor had accepted a local merchant's task to retrieve some rather exotic goods. She approached the table of misfits at a trade outpost outside the city with the offer of a small fortune in exchange for the requested goods... an opportunity none of them could resist. A salamander's hide, a tremendous umber hulk hide, a beholder's eye, and fire essence. Theirs had not been entirely fruitless up to this point. They already had both hides, and it was concluded that it would be best to summon a fire elemental back at a summoning circle in the city. What was proving to be trying was their search for a beholder's eye. Any would do, however, the only beholder known in the region was selling goods in the city. Unless they wished to invoke the ire of Sshamath, they had no choice but to search for a beholder's lair. What they were looking for was a desired environment for beholders. High cavern ceilings that shadowed a passage into the lowerdark. So far their search had been fruitless for such a lair, but after crossing a bridge that lead away from the mushroom forest and making camp, it became abundantly clear how deep the adventurers were. If they weren't in the lowerdark yet, they were certainly nearing an entrance. It was cold, damp, and only growing more dangerous with each new threat. As she went through her spellbook, Slassa knew in her heart that they must have been nearing an entrance to the lowerdark. That familiar dead calm was haunting their camp.
She peeked outside once to make sure nothing was making it's way up from yet another tunnel leading to a lower cavern. She was delighted to see the svirf who had joined the group was keeping guard. How kind of him. She looked through the other side of the tent. Unfortunately, the same peace could not be had around the camp fire. The mighty tanarukk Grunk, who was probably the most delightful fiend-blood creature she had ever come across, was keeping watch on the bridge. She enjoyed how honest it was. More so, she enjoyed how he kept everyone safe without the demand for reward or respect. Was he an appeaser like her? Only time would reveal that question's answer.
Sadly Grunk was, once again, being abused by the cancerous tumor of the group... Kelana. A drow wizardess who would've made her ancestors proud. Her haughty attitude was complimented by a sociopath-psychosis that could easily scare a full grown man. When she wasn't speaking out loud of methods of torture she would like to try on this person or that, she was being a bigot and berating other 'lesser races' for their flaws, weaknesses, and impurity. Part of Slassa liked her honesty, while another wanted to suck her soul into a gem, only to crush it and send her screaming into oblivion. In the end, it was better not to start conflict with her. Kelana wasn't just a drow, she was of the Conclave. Neighbors Slassa was far from eager to cross on any subject or issue.
Alienor and Ithluulnlor were chatting away until Kelana berated Alienor as well for being an impure drow. It was true she didn't just refuse to worship the spider queen; she worshipped a god of nature... of all things. What was drow society coming to? That question gave Slassa more comfort in Kelana's actions. She was, if nothing else, fiercely protective of the drow identity that seemed to have dissolved with the lack of theocracy in Sshamath. Males were almost equals now; Lloth worship was almost non-existant; and the 'lesser races' were not just being tolerated, but accepted. Good for Slassa, bad for Kelana, she concluded.
She stuck her head back inside the tent, finishing her reading before taking a small nap. When next she woke, they'd be venturing in one of the darkest corners of the Underdark.
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The group decended into the cavern several hours later. It was cold before, but it was not downright freezing down here. If anything lived down here, it would probably be resistant to the cold. That chilling feeling had something else to it as they descended... something foul. Slithers of death magic could be felt in the air. Slassa felt it... Kelana fell it... just as Ithluuunlor did as welll; though no one spoke of it until they reached the bottom of the tunnel.
A vast underground cavern greeted them. To their right a river ran into an open underlarke. Slassa had seen underlakes before. This one was too small to sustain the large aquatic life it was her misfortune to encounter back far east in the Underdark. That didn't mean the waters were safe, however. She leaned over as the others walked onward to the small, natural bridge that lead across the river. There was something big down there... more than just one. The shadows in the water told tale of some horror waiting for one foolish enough to swim or even drink from the cavern's waters. That feeling of uncertainty... the unknown... it was the one feeling she could not hide on her face. There was fear in her eyes and on her lips as her head conjured images of some untold monsters ready to leap out and drag her in. But the sight of her allies crossing the bridge drew her attention away. She followed them after taking one more look into that all natural abyss. Some secrets were best left as such.
As soon as they crossed the bridge, Grunk sniffed the air profusely. It meant danger was nearby. Everyone except Slassa drew a weapon. The svirf Gvirk had his dagger drawn. Alienor's blessed mace shone like an eyesore, just as Grunk nearly made her giggle after drawing out two axes twice his size."How can something so small be so strong?" she wondered. The drow male Ithuulnlor already had his staff out. And Kelana? She was playing it safe with the beloved crossbow. She always found it odd when other mages tried to cast with one hand... how ineffective.
Already the danger of this cavern made itself known in a form most terrifying. Three skeletons with demonic tails were rushing towards the group. She knew what these things were called... Deathbringers. All she could remember is that fiendish involvement was present. Couple that with undeath and you have a fearsome foe. The skeletons were quick, and far more agile than anything she had animated herself in the past. Grunk and Alienor were taking the creatures head on in a charge. That was for the best, given the lack of skill Slassa and her mage companions sired in melee. Gvirk was latched onto Grunk's cloak, using him as something to hide behind before he'd leap out and give the wretches a nasty surprise. Slassa looked around before spotting a nearby corpse. A fallen adventurer with a scythe and modest plating to tell tale of his or her fall. Fleshless... it had been there awhile. Male, female, it mattered not; this was going to be her contribution to the fight. She muttered as her hands waved, then smacked the ground. The corpse immediately rose with a pale green light shimmering from its skull. It helped itself to its feet as it readied to join the fray. Slassa turned to look see Alienor smack one of the creatures right in the side. While it did do some damage, the skeleton was not disintegrated as she had hoped. Garuk was taking swings with his axes at one of the undead. Unfortunately he was only grazing the creature. When he wasn't grazing it, the monstrosity was downright dodging most of his blows. Gvirk had already leaped onto one of the undead. Stabbing mercilessly into the back of it's skull after having latched onto it from behind. Sadly it was doing little... and the creature was only distracted. Reaching back at him as he put full effort in avoiding its grasp.
Kelana and Ithluuunlor were throwing spells at the Deathbringers when the warriors allowed gaps for it. Slassa was actually walking around the creatures. She murmured slowly and quietly as she prepared to flush fire from behind. What she had noticed from the spells her drow companions were tossing was the creatures were resistant to the cold, and difficult to harm with anything less than divine, arcane, or elemental magic. By the time she had made it around the creatures, her hands began to crackle with flames. Alienor had felled one of the creatures already, but Grunk and Gvirk were still struggling with their kills. Gvirk, at least, was getting plenty of spells tossed on the distracted Deathbringer. It was perhaps for this reason Alienor assisted Grunk in felling his prey. Slassa began to release gushes of flame from her position. Smacking her palms against the ground with each release. She was getting adept at judging blast radius. With a wall of fire flushing out against them, the Deathbringers were soon harassed into stumbling and being forced ahead of their defensive stances. Grunk managed to cleave the leg bone off one of the creatures before Alienor slammed her mace into it's skull. Shattering it entirely before the two helped Gvirk chip away at the stubborn creature who just wouldn't do the decent thing and die. By the time it was over, the skeleton was finally charging over to aid with the battle. Slassa facepalmed as Kelana snickered. "You useless bag of bones...". Part of her felt bad for insulting her own minion. Another wished it understood it's failure. A pity neither side of her was satisfied.
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Hours passed as the adventurers explored the cavern. They were deep in the Underdark... very deep. If a beholder lair wasn't here, then there was little hope of finding it elsewhere. The group had come across several more Deatbringers. The creatures were taxing to defeat... and forced Slassa to animate more undead from the bodies of the few fallen they came across in the cavern. From time to time, they came across what they thought was some kind of goliath shade. But as soon as they neared it... it seemed to fade from reality. Illusions... or was there really something foul in the air?
As it was... the Deathbringers were not the most dangerous creatures in the cavern. Death Demons began to line up on a upward hill. Though they were few, the small wall of demonic goliaths was more than just daunting. It was a sign to retreat. The group backed up slowly. Fear was in everybody's eyes as they began to back up slowly. Deathbringers began to creep from underneath the palms of the demonic undead; this was the signal to run. The group fled all the way back to the cavern's bridge. Once across, it was a manner of returning to the mushroom forest's edge. Unfortunately, an ominous figure with a small cluster of ghasts at it's side was creeping across the bridge as the lesser undead began to crawl in a feral manner across at rapid speed. Immediately, Grunk rushed to the bridge's end alongside Alienor. Gvirk was going through an assortment of alchemical goodies to throw, before realizing this bridge was their only escape. A chilling factor that all the mages had to face before they began to cast singular spells. As orbs of elements and force flew threw the air, the defenders began to take defensive spots on the other side of the bridge. Alienor with her shield held high, Grunk with his axes twirling in anticipation, and Gvirk hiding behind a rock... hoping to get a shot at their master. Slassa looked back after her skeletal minion took position behind a stalagmite. No one was coming from behind... yet. That meant they had time to face this adversary. The question was... could they survive?
The ghasts leaped against Alienor's shield, signaling the end of attrition. A few had already fallen off the bridge from the magical barrage... but there was a good five more left slashing at the cleric's shield. Inthuulnlor and Kelana continued to toss elemental spheres and rays at the creatures. The upmost care was taken to avoid hitting their allies; Kelana, cruel as she was, even made the effort to get a better view of the ghasts by side-lining the battle. She recognized the value of her meatshields, at least. Slassa's minion was already hacking at the side of one of the ghasts, before he was tackled by another anyhow. She poured negative energy rays into the minion's husk; keeping it alive as her allies killed off the other ghasts with a series of hacks and swipes. Gvirk gave the skeleton reprieve after leaping and kicking the ghast off the minion. The mercy ended there as the skeleton found itself struggling to get back up on it's own.
As the final ghast was decapitated by Grunk, the Death Demon's visage sent a chill down their spines. It wasn't just close now... it was casting a spell. Alienor prayed to Gruumbar to smite the creature after slamming her mace into the ground. Her divine invocation conjured a hammer that flew with unrealistic speed at the demon. To everyone's awe and suprise, the hammer actually shattered against it... though it did leave a small hole in the monster's chest. It was empty, hallow, and full of darkness. Alienor brought her shield up to bear, becoming the creature's target of choice for the attempted attack. Gvirk and Grunk were already rushing across the the small bridge to try and stop it. And as usual, the other two mages were preparing or already throwing spells at the creature. Even as an orb of fire grazed its face, the demon unleashed a blast of eldritch energy that sent sent Alienor flipping backwards. Her face turned against the ground as blood oozed from her mouth. Was she dead? Slassa ran over with a kit ready... but it was already too late. That blast had shattered every bone and organ in her body. Her wide eyes turned to the creature as it prepared another blast; seemingly ignorant of its own body's destruction in face of so many spell blasts. But Grunk and Gvirk were able to stop it this time. Gvirk leaped toward it's left hand, and began to crawl up to its shoulder. The creature looked to him... a mistake; the moment gave Grunk the opportunity he needed to chop off its right hand. When the creature looked back to its right hand, then back to Gvirk, it was met with a dagger lodged in one of its empty eye sockets. Although Gvirk hadn't expected it to roar in pain, he hadn't expected it to be as agile and maneuverable as the Deathbringers. The robed demon suddenly kicked Grunk with such force, it sent him skittering across the bridge. Gvirk grabbed another dagger from his belt; reeling it before he was abruptly bashed in the face by the skull of the demon. He nearly fell off into the river, but the demon had other plans for him. He grabbed him by the collar, holding him up to his face before he began to suck the life force from Gvirk. The svirf screamed in untold agony as his body began to quickly dehydrate. Had the demon not been so focused on seeing the svirf suffer, it may have noticed Slassa's minion throwing it's scythe sideways.
The scythe slammed into it's side. It was a crude weapon... but the force of the throw was enough to penetrate the husk of the demon. It ceased draining Gvirk's life as it looked down at the scythe, and compliment of bolts slowly slamming into it's chest. It looked up to see the wizards, having spent themselves entirely of their spells, using crossbows in a respectable fashion behind the cover of stalagmites. Slassa was among them... having no more to offer than the distraction of an archer. The demon threw the svirf directly into a column of rocks that crumbled after being thoroughly penetrated by Gvirk's person. It looked down again to see the skeletal minion trying to yank its scythe out of its side. It tapped him on the helmet to get his attention before smacking him across the face with his remaining hand. The skull flew into the river, and body fell limp without it, following after its head into the ominous river. It knew that victory was close. The mages were spent, the svirf was all but killed, their precious cleric was shattered, and the orc-fiend-
The orc-fiend! The demon looked around for Grunk. It wasn't sure where he had gone off to. It looked around frantically before coming to the conclusion he had run off in fear. The creature threw back its free hand, preparing another blast... completely unaware of Grunk's cunning. Underneath the bridge, the grimly determined tanarukk was hugging the sides of the bridge. Crawling slowly, upside down, with one of his axes clenched between his teeth. He knew he didn't have much time before the others would be at the mercy of that thing's spells again; so time was a factor in the situation. He had just climbed up behind the demon as it threw its hand back. He had one chance... one golden opportunity before it was aware of his presence. He leapt high, screaming at the top of his lungs, before slamming his axe straight down. Its edge sank into the bridge, and he realized he had literally sliced the thing in half. Both halves of the undead demon fell off sideways off the bridge... darkness replacing the flesh that should've been as it leaked out. Bloodless... lifeless... unsatisfying prey.
Slassa made her way back to Alienor. She was just becoming familiar with the basics of medicinal practice... but it was unecessary to tell she was dead. Normally this would be disheartening, if not for the fact Alienor had scrolls of Raise Dead on her person. She 'borrowed' one after sifting through her things and beckoned the others to help her along as they brought her body into a large room previously overlooked in the cavern. She wished she hadn't.
This was what they had been looking for all along. A passage into the lowerdark... with an environment to suit the needs of beholderkin. She peered over with a grim look, noticing a few eyes slowly opening up in the darkness. "I think... I think we should leave." she forced out. When the others caught whiff of the danger, it was all they could do to drag out Alienor's body away from the pit. They were in no condition to fight beholders... and a whole group of them would mean a death sentence of challenged.
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Back in the camp on the edge of the mushroom forest, Alienor was slowly being nursed back to health. She had been brought back from the brink; but her injuries would need an adept healer's care. Care that was lacking in her companions, but not the city of Sshamath. Gvirk was walking again... but also severely injured. A trip back in such a condition could mean certain death, given what they would have to face to return. Provisions were relatively low, and there was the possibility of further attacks from the undead and demons from the lower caverns they had returned from. Gvirk was able to walk... but his skills at stealth and combat were non-absent. Alienor would need nothing less than Grunk's brooding strength to be transported safely across the Underdark in her condition. She was neatly tucked in a backpack on his back after a decision had been made by the group. The hunt was over... failure was the cup they drank from. The small fortune promised was forfeit; and the supplies and effort put into the venture. But when such losses were weighed against the risk of losing their lives... it became evident only the suicidal or insanely greedy would continue on with this trek.
Gvirk decided to stay behind after setting up a comfortable, yet cozy, little tent under a mound of rocks that would serve as cover from most predators. He insisted that it would be best for everyone if he remained behind to lick his wounds and return to Sshamath on his lonesome when he was ready. After seeing him in action... Slassa could believe he was capable enough to survive on his lonesome; if not limited towards his choice of interaction and food. She gave him a piece of duergar candy, piece of her gratitude, and a small handshake complimented with a smile as the others began to cross the bridge. With a final farewell, the others began their long trek back to Sshamath. The only one still sour was, of course, Kelana... who felt Alienor would serve better as an undead servant. Unfortunately for her, Grunk was more likely to bite her face off than let her finish animating his friend. Inthuulnlor and Slassa, as usual, tried their best to stay out of it.
Slassa looked back one more time... she could've sworn she heard a chilling whisper from the dark. "Join us..." it beckoned. Was she the only one hearing it? Or was everyone else ignoring it like she knew she should've? She shook her head before walking on. She wasn't about to be singled out as the mad or weak one in the group.
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The trek back was almost as dangerous as the trek to. Giant snakes and basilisks threatened the group when it wasn't Umber Hulks looking for a quick snack. Thankfully, Grunk's grim determination and downright stubborness in the face of such foes saw the others through. For a time, the party was separated by the bustle of Sshamath's streets. After scrying for a brief time, Slassa was able to reunite herself and Kelana with the men. Alienor was just waking up... to find herself at an altar of Llolth. It was astonishing, actually, for all... including Slassa... to find the spider queen so merciful to a drow cleric not of her own creed. It was also the final straw in what was a small haystack for Kelana. Slassa slowly backed away from the others as Kelana began an angry rant that lead to an oath of 'purging' the city of impure drow and non-illithyri. Well, she was spirited at least...
Slassa came across Grunk some time after. He was the hero of the cycle. Yes, he was hideous, but he was also one of the most civil orc-bloods she had ever come across. More than that... he was as useful as he was sane (in comparison to Kelana anyway) which had earned Slassa's respect. She had expected a fiendish orc blood to be the worst of savages... but found herself guilty of bigotry thereafter. In a show of thanks, and compensation for his efforts, she awarded the mighty tanarukk with not one... not two... but five pieces of candy. He had enjoyed that candy all throughout the trip... and had become quite fond of it. And why wouldn't he? Sour, crunchy, and plentiful; it was her favorite treat to. After a final farewell, she slowly began to walk away... running into Kelana again.
Kelana began to rant of Slassa's inevitable doom, torture, and typical bigotry against humans. She crossed the line when she threw her bile at Grunk... the creature she owed her life to. This drow had been long overdue for a painful lesson in humility. She flashed Kelana the rude finger before she began to walk off again. She didn't care if she saw or not... tomorrow would be the last day this drow's cruelty would be tolerated if she had anything to be said about it. Her mind pondered a thousand scenarios on how to approach the matter. Killing her would be too simple. And dangerous at that. But she was more familiar with drow society than Kelana cared to admit. And if Sshamath still functioned with the typical drow culture's virtues and values... that 'inferior human blood' would be Kelana's shame if all went according to the plot forming in her noggin.
The moral of this story is twofold. Weigh carefully the value of wealth in any shape or form and decide if it's worth your life.
The second... bigotry is for savages. You aren't a savage... are you?
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Slaanesh the Wicked
- Posts: 24
- Joined: Thu Aug 18, 2011 6:27 pm
Re: Codex of Appeasement; Slassa's Tales of Survival in the
Enter the Palemaster:
Agony. That was what she remembered most about the encounter. Fingers sinking into her skin and actually making contact with her skull; only to have her mind invaded. The sense of violation was without compared; and while every fiber of her being demanded she resist, this time she would not.
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She had approached the mysterious crypt to find solitude away from the living, the mad, and the savage. Her original intent of finding solitude and studying her minion skeleton, Smee, was quickly washed away after a frenzied ghoul tore him in half and nearly ended her as well. Her throat and left side was still bleeding... but nothing deep enough to cause death. After a few bandages, she could do little more than slump against a stalagmite. The ghoul had given up the chase, and she was far enough from the crypt to be left alone while close enough to the river for predators to take advantage of. It was not a beast that was stalking her this cycle, however...
The vampire had just finished her meal when she snuck up on Slassa. The head of an ilithid tossed aside like a used tissue; Slassa was certain she was next... but as it was, the vampire had taken much of the ilithid's own essence, and through it, the ability to read her thoughts was now active. Slassa's intent and desire was known to her; and the vampire found she had more use for her alive then dead. After all... given time... this little pup could grow into a ferocious hound.
Her deal was none negotiable, and the alternative to declining her offer was a painful death. Slassa had no choice but to obey the vampire and kneel, as demanded. It wasn't until she jammed her fingers through her forehead and attempted to invade her thoughts that she resisted. She was willing to suffer any fate to protect her home city; and the knowledge of the fissure would die with her if she had anything to say about it. The vampire sighed... realizing her will was too great to overcome. She retracted her fingers and assured her that she was not interested. How could Slassa be sure? What was preventing the creature to look upon her most well guarded secrets? Why was she so interested in bestowing the knowledge she had come to reap on her lonesome?
In the end, she had a choice. Die and be certain the safety of the homeland was certain; or take a risk... and absorb knowledge that would not only lead to unparalleled discoveries that the homeland could benefit off of, but possibly even gain immortality. For once, in her entire life, Slassa chose her own ambitions over the certainty of security for the homeland. The vampire slid her fingers in again. The pain was unbearable the first time... but she was already growing used to it. This time there was no resistance; her thoughts were violated with a flow of images so vivid it scared her. Rain trickling on the corpse of a child floating face-flat in a river... a lich in all it's terrible glory. A paladin skewered on a pike. And a book... it's pages falling into place before the cover closed on her. Then all ceased.
She woke up... she couldn't remember how she got to a familiar camp in the tunnels. A crackling camp fire complimented by a room of supplies and goods. A zombie minion... had she summoned him? She didn't remember doing so earlier. It was keeping guard of her, even as she woke. She looked about to see a familiar friend; Gwirk. He was going through some of the things in the camp before he headed over to her. "I found you sleeping here." he told her.
Was it all a dream? Was it all some kind of nightmare inflicted by something foul she ate or drank? She blank a couple times before rubbing her head. Something was wrong... her head felt unusually rough; even thicker, one may dare say. She slowly removed her glove before grinding her index finger and thumb against one another. Bone; It felt like bone. She looked left before regaining herself and slipping her glove back on. She couldn't help but wonder where Gwirk ran off to earlier."You still want me to do that job?" he asked. That job... she was going to bring him along to the crypt, she remembered. For protection. Unecessary now... and he still had no idea what happened or what she wanted. Maybe it was best he didn't know."Actually no. Something else came up!" she offered with a smile."Shall we head back to the city?" she asked. He shrugged and nodded.
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Her mind... there were things there she didn't know before. Images of another's life she had never seen. All of it was relevant, however, to her attempts to unlock the pale lore. And now her skin... Vaunted, her skin! She didn't know immediately what to think of the vampire's gift... but she knew it would come at a price someday. She could only hope it wasn't beyond what she could, or would, pay.
For now it was time to head back to Sshamath. There was much to learn and unlock; and, Shar willing, Slassa would soon have the means to survive the worst the Underdark... as planned.
The moral of this story is threefold. Don't make a deal that exempts knowledge of the bargain itself. Be careful where you tread and what you seek. And whatever you do, don't wander around alone in the dark.
Agony. That was what she remembered most about the encounter. Fingers sinking into her skin and actually making contact with her skull; only to have her mind invaded. The sense of violation was without compared; and while every fiber of her being demanded she resist, this time she would not.
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She had approached the mysterious crypt to find solitude away from the living, the mad, and the savage. Her original intent of finding solitude and studying her minion skeleton, Smee, was quickly washed away after a frenzied ghoul tore him in half and nearly ended her as well. Her throat and left side was still bleeding... but nothing deep enough to cause death. After a few bandages, she could do little more than slump against a stalagmite. The ghoul had given up the chase, and she was far enough from the crypt to be left alone while close enough to the river for predators to take advantage of. It was not a beast that was stalking her this cycle, however...
The vampire had just finished her meal when she snuck up on Slassa. The head of an ilithid tossed aside like a used tissue; Slassa was certain she was next... but as it was, the vampire had taken much of the ilithid's own essence, and through it, the ability to read her thoughts was now active. Slassa's intent and desire was known to her; and the vampire found she had more use for her alive then dead. After all... given time... this little pup could grow into a ferocious hound.
Her deal was none negotiable, and the alternative to declining her offer was a painful death. Slassa had no choice but to obey the vampire and kneel, as demanded. It wasn't until she jammed her fingers through her forehead and attempted to invade her thoughts that she resisted. She was willing to suffer any fate to protect her home city; and the knowledge of the fissure would die with her if she had anything to say about it. The vampire sighed... realizing her will was too great to overcome. She retracted her fingers and assured her that she was not interested. How could Slassa be sure? What was preventing the creature to look upon her most well guarded secrets? Why was she so interested in bestowing the knowledge she had come to reap on her lonesome?
In the end, she had a choice. Die and be certain the safety of the homeland was certain; or take a risk... and absorb knowledge that would not only lead to unparalleled discoveries that the homeland could benefit off of, but possibly even gain immortality. For once, in her entire life, Slassa chose her own ambitions over the certainty of security for the homeland. The vampire slid her fingers in again. The pain was unbearable the first time... but she was already growing used to it. This time there was no resistance; her thoughts were violated with a flow of images so vivid it scared her. Rain trickling on the corpse of a child floating face-flat in a river... a lich in all it's terrible glory. A paladin skewered on a pike. And a book... it's pages falling into place before the cover closed on her. Then all ceased.
She woke up... she couldn't remember how she got to a familiar camp in the tunnels. A crackling camp fire complimented by a room of supplies and goods. A zombie minion... had she summoned him? She didn't remember doing so earlier. It was keeping guard of her, even as she woke. She looked about to see a familiar friend; Gwirk. He was going through some of the things in the camp before he headed over to her. "I found you sleeping here." he told her.
Was it all a dream? Was it all some kind of nightmare inflicted by something foul she ate or drank? She blank a couple times before rubbing her head. Something was wrong... her head felt unusually rough; even thicker, one may dare say. She slowly removed her glove before grinding her index finger and thumb against one another. Bone; It felt like bone. She looked left before regaining herself and slipping her glove back on. She couldn't help but wonder where Gwirk ran off to earlier."You still want me to do that job?" he asked. That job... she was going to bring him along to the crypt, she remembered. For protection. Unecessary now... and he still had no idea what happened or what she wanted. Maybe it was best he didn't know."Actually no. Something else came up!" she offered with a smile."Shall we head back to the city?" she asked. He shrugged and nodded.
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Her mind... there were things there she didn't know before. Images of another's life she had never seen. All of it was relevant, however, to her attempts to unlock the pale lore. And now her skin... Vaunted, her skin! She didn't know immediately what to think of the vampire's gift... but she knew it would come at a price someday. She could only hope it wasn't beyond what she could, or would, pay.
For now it was time to head back to Sshamath. There was much to learn and unlock; and, Shar willing, Slassa would soon have the means to survive the worst the Underdark... as planned.
The moral of this story is threefold. Don't make a deal that exempts knowledge of the bargain itself. Be careful where you tread and what you seek. And whatever you do, don't wander around alone in the dark.