Journeys through the mist
Posted: Sat Oct 20, 2012 9:19 pm
Dark room somewhere in the temple of Sshamath, filled with the scent of lavender and gooseberry perfumes. The furniture consists mostly of items for scrying and conjuration. In the corridors outside, one frail looking female made her way to the chamber for her daily, or rather cycly, scrying. Scrying on enemies, crafty plots amongst the citizens or... unknown to the Yath, personal affairs.
As all drow, Xercia reached for power and perfection, but unlike all, she saw power where others failed to see it at all. Such power could be earning the Yathrin's trust to leave her alone for scrying, where she spent time observing master fighters outsmarting brutish orcs or instructors teaching perfect legwork. All that for her own personal gain and nothing to do with temple's business at all.
She was a schemer and she knew her submissive stance would shrug any threat or even suspicion of personal gain. She is the pawn, but it is her information that moves the figures. As much as it was not in her interest to bring any harm to the temple and she was not engaged in rivalry for positions and titles (she is not a Yath), she slowly wiggled herself higher and higher with everyone around her remaining happy.
And that can be really boring for a drow! Safe yes, but boring as well.
She chanted for adventure and own benefit, perhaps a victim to hunt other than mindless blobs north of the river or beastlike umberhulks. She was sick and tired of training hopeful yathrins in arts of combat as most of them relied on armor and she could easily penetrate those. Recently she nearly killed one of them using a wooden weapon, kicks and punches.
Her scrying that cycle was bearing little fruit as she was unsure what could be a good place to seek an adventure. She chanted 'Sshamath', so the city appeared but there was much to see. She pondered and chanted more 'Faern' and still many images appeared of the local wizards. 'Danger' - still not close enough. Then she pondered more and thought of what boiled her blood not connected with the previous. She chanted 'Eilistrae' thinking of the dancer rogue who attempted to kill her not long ago but escaped.
The image was becoming clear. Out of thousands of faces, only a few remained, one of which was a Sun Elf wizard. Then there was another surface elf, perhaps his apprentice, a female drow with green eyes and a male one with blue bearing the symbol of Lolth. The other three seemed to be worshipers of the dark maiden. The last two were talking somewhere in the caverns and the Lolthite male seemed to become converted to a new religion. The jalil did use her charms. Xercia has never seen those individuals before. She frowned at the sight and repeated her chant angrily 'DANGER!'. Suddenly the scrying ball lit with fire and exploded throwing the warlock against the wall, knocking her out cold. Temple guards ran to investigate the explosion and saw Xercia's clothes on fire with herself taking no injuries from the flames. They started extinguishing the flames and took the seeress away to a safe place for her to regain conscience.
Her visions continued. She saw the female and the elven wizard meeting on the surface, hugging and landing a kiss. Then her vision moved to the wizards apprentice looking into endless warehouse holding countless firebombs and acid flasks. The apprentice seemed to be a shady one, perhaps a necromancer or an illusionist. The master wizard looked like a noble spoilt by wealth. It was impossible to tell his specialisation. He was wearing an Eilistrae medallion. The male drow had a well crafted crossbow and the jalil seemed to be a rogue judging by her trappings. The vision than moved to the master wizard speaking to a grey bearded human. They were talking but it was not distinctive enough except for one phrase. The human said: 'In your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it'.
Her cuts and bruises healed rapidly and she awoke with her personal castrated jaluk looking after her. She repeated the phrase 'In your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it' leaving the servant most bemused.
Excuse me jabbress? - Said the castrate.
Pack dosst things. We're leaving. - Xercia said decisively.
Where to jabbress? - he replied even more bemused.
ELF... hunting. - she said.
The servant rushed ahead and Xercia walked out before the temple authorities could stop her and ask for explanation for the explosion. The guard that tried got the point it was not wise. Point of her rapier through the skull that is.
As all drow, Xercia reached for power and perfection, but unlike all, she saw power where others failed to see it at all. Such power could be earning the Yathrin's trust to leave her alone for scrying, where she spent time observing master fighters outsmarting brutish orcs or instructors teaching perfect legwork. All that for her own personal gain and nothing to do with temple's business at all.
She was a schemer and she knew her submissive stance would shrug any threat or even suspicion of personal gain. She is the pawn, but it is her information that moves the figures. As much as it was not in her interest to bring any harm to the temple and she was not engaged in rivalry for positions and titles (she is not a Yath), she slowly wiggled herself higher and higher with everyone around her remaining happy.
And that can be really boring for a drow! Safe yes, but boring as well.
She chanted for adventure and own benefit, perhaps a victim to hunt other than mindless blobs north of the river or beastlike umberhulks. She was sick and tired of training hopeful yathrins in arts of combat as most of them relied on armor and she could easily penetrate those. Recently she nearly killed one of them using a wooden weapon, kicks and punches.
Her scrying that cycle was bearing little fruit as she was unsure what could be a good place to seek an adventure. She chanted 'Sshamath', so the city appeared but there was much to see. She pondered and chanted more 'Faern' and still many images appeared of the local wizards. 'Danger' - still not close enough. Then she pondered more and thought of what boiled her blood not connected with the previous. She chanted 'Eilistrae' thinking of the dancer rogue who attempted to kill her not long ago but escaped.
The image was becoming clear. Out of thousands of faces, only a few remained, one of which was a Sun Elf wizard. Then there was another surface elf, perhaps his apprentice, a female drow with green eyes and a male one with blue bearing the symbol of Lolth. The other three seemed to be worshipers of the dark maiden. The last two were talking somewhere in the caverns and the Lolthite male seemed to become converted to a new religion. The jalil did use her charms. Xercia has never seen those individuals before. She frowned at the sight and repeated her chant angrily 'DANGER!'. Suddenly the scrying ball lit with fire and exploded throwing the warlock against the wall, knocking her out cold. Temple guards ran to investigate the explosion and saw Xercia's clothes on fire with herself taking no injuries from the flames. They started extinguishing the flames and took the seeress away to a safe place for her to regain conscience.
Her visions continued. She saw the female and the elven wizard meeting on the surface, hugging and landing a kiss. Then her vision moved to the wizards apprentice looking into endless warehouse holding countless firebombs and acid flasks. The apprentice seemed to be a shady one, perhaps a necromancer or an illusionist. The master wizard looked like a noble spoilt by wealth. It was impossible to tell his specialisation. He was wearing an Eilistrae medallion. The male drow had a well crafted crossbow and the jalil seemed to be a rogue judging by her trappings. The vision than moved to the master wizard speaking to a grey bearded human. They were talking but it was not distinctive enough except for one phrase. The human said: 'In your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it'.
Her cuts and bruises healed rapidly and she awoke with her personal castrated jaluk looking after her. She repeated the phrase 'In your haste to save the world, take care you don't destroy it' leaving the servant most bemused.
Excuse me jabbress? - Said the castrate.
Pack dosst things. We're leaving. - Xercia said decisively.
Where to jabbress? - he replied even more bemused.
ELF... hunting. - she said.
The servant rushed ahead and Xercia walked out before the temple authorities could stop her and ask for explanation for the explosion. The guard that tried got the point it was not wise. Point of her rapier through the skull that is.