The Desecration of Chauntea's Shrine

[Vallyn]

As told by Vallyn, sporting fresh scars proudly as he drinks his Mushroom Spirits in the Gloura's Wings Tavern

(A DM Sojourner event)


Sometimes toying with the Rothe just isn't enough. A Drow gets bored, and the mind of a bored Drow quickly turns to plots of betrayal, murder, theft... We're all Drow here, well those of us who matter anyway, I'm sure you understand.

So I just couldn't think of anything amusing to do. Amon and Din'ethil had left the Gloura's Wings earlier and there really wasn't much going on in Sshamath other than the usual complaining of the Rothe and the stinking Duergar arguing with customers about the quality of their wares.

Vhaeraun rewarded me well the last time I went to the surface, when I captured this Rothe and brought her back to Sshamath. (pointing to his Moon Elf Slave, Alias, who is kneeling on the floor next to him) I figured if I was bored, the best thing to put my mind to would be causing more strife on the surface, which should please the Masked Lord and amuse the nine hells out of me.

Vhaeraun was obviously pleased with my intentions, because it was the depths of what passes for night up there when I emerged from the Labyrinth in that mad wizard's tower. All of the tiny bright lights were lit on the cavern ceiling, stars I'm told they call them. Their hideous, bloated moon was out, making it far too light for my eyes, but at least I knew the stupid surfacers would still be blind to my presence. I slipped through their forests and fields, right across their bridge. What pass as guards on that bridge are laughable at best. They're so unobservant a filthy Duergar could probably slip past them while he belched a song...

I had intended to go into Baldur's Gate itself and perhaps set a few shops on fire, but the guards seem to think they need to patrol the town as if hordes of Drow were set to invade. Perhaps they're wise to do so, no? Well I'm quick enough, but I'm not a one-drow raiding party, so I decided to scale down my mischief just a bit.

After scouting the city and its surrounding areas by night, their cavern ceiling began to get very bright and I found shade in a barn. They tell me it's called the sun, but I call it soul-torture.

While staying in the barn, I came up with a plan to desecrate the Shrine of one of their pathetic surface goddesses. If the books I have about Priests of the surface realms are correct, this one belonged to Chauntea. I prepared some of my alchemist's acid flasks and began burning away at the face of the statue, but some disgustingly bright lights flared out of the thing. I dodged the blast of light and blinked just in time to avoid being blinded. I was worried that even blind and stupid guards might see that, but they were stupid and didn't even notice me. They couldn't have possibly missed the light, and they were staring right at me, but I knew they couldn't see me. How could they, I'm Drow after all.

I'll admit, I was a bit afraid to pour more acid onto the statue at that point. You'd fear it too, considering it's messing with the gods. Testing my luck with more of that dreadfully bright light wasn't something I wanted to do, so I made do by pouring the rest of my acid out on the pedestal supporting the statue. I made the mark of the Masked Lord, Vhaeraun there. I crept away, knowing that wasn't quite enough mischief, so I stalked one of their strange birds that clucks and pecks at the ground for hours on end. I meant to grab its neck to wring it silently, but it squawked and darted off. I thought perhaps the guards might have noticed, but again, they're blind to the cunning of the Drow. I waited for the fat bird to wander back, and it did. This time I just shot it in the head with my bow and arrow. I put the chicken into my sack and headed back to the statue of their goddess.

I must have been a little overconfident at how stupid the guards were, but I'm Drow, and they're surface scum; of course they can't see me. Just as I was nearing my position I stepped on something that snapped and one of those archers on the battlements was alerted. He was looking towards me, I think, but I had the bushes between he and I, so he couldn't see me. I didn't want to risk peeking out, in case he had some magic that might aid his sight. Remembering how long it took for that little bird to come back to me after I startled it, I decided that was about the right time for me to wait to make my next move.

Things are a little different on the surface, I guess, but my hunch was correct. By the time I made my move back to the statue, the guard wasn't watching anymore. I took the bird out of the sack I had stored it in and slit its neck and then poured all of the blood out into the acid-etched mark of the Masked Lord I had put into the pedestal. I was just about to gut the bird and drape its entrails over the head of the statue when some brute of a guard fired an arrow into my shoulder. The scum did have magic!

Bells and gongs were being struck, the surfacers were shouting like Goblins around a dead Rothe just before meal-time and guards were pouring out of the garrison like freshly hatched spiderlings from an egg-sack.

I did have a backup plan, of course; what Drow doesn't? I reached into my pack and pulled out an alchemist's fire-bomb. Another arrow hit me, but it was an acceptable loss, since my fire-bomb landed squarely in the haybales near the farmer's houses and barns. It burst into flames and I ran for them, leaping through the flames with a diving roll, to put the flames on my clothes out. It worked, and I cast my invisibility spell quickly, then crept quietly off to make my escape.

Perhaps I should have just made for the swim in the river first, but swimming in rivers in the Underdark is not the way to live a long life, so I went for the bridge. Guards were running everywhere, several with polearms had come right to my location where I went invisible, but they couldn't hear me. You should have hard their chatter, "Get the Drow!" "No, put the fires out!" "But he's getting away!" Haha! I tell you, it was harder to avoid laughing loudly in their faces than it was to give them the slip... Stupid surfacers. If they had just let the farms burn down they could have caught me... But no, they have some duty to protect the stupid fat farmers and their squalling babies. It's too easy, really!

Anyhow, I made it to the bridge and figured my escape was well-in-hand, but that same first archer who got me in the shoulder spotted me again and fired an arrow at me. I'm sure now that he had some magical trinket. There's no other way a surfacer could have spotted me there. The guards who had at least slightly more inteelligence, the ones not putting out my fires, followed the arrow shots to me and the chase was on.

Dropping all pretense of stealth and trusting in my invisibility I sprinted for the bridge. Arrows were raining down all around me, like drops of water from the stalactites in a damp cavern. Some of them were hitting me, but it wasn't aiming. You try running through an arrow-storm and not getting hit. Blind shots are just as dangerous as aimed ones, if you fire enough.

As I reached the center of the bridge the guards had me nearly surrounded. They must have been following a blood trail or something, because I know they couldn't see me. With all the racket they were making they certainly couldn't hear me. I made a dive for the river below, hoping to clear the bridge and then levitate just as I reached the water's surface.

I didn't quite make it; one of those hulking brutes, probably had Orc blood in him, had my cloak in his grubby fist. I made it over the railing, but he swung me against the bridge trying to dash my brains out before hauling me up...

The clumsy, probably orc-blooded human wouldn't let go, so I slipped out of my cloak, cutting it free so I could fall to the river. It's a pity too, that Rogue's Cape of the Night cost me over twenty thousand! Ah well, that's the price one pays to please Vhaeraun sometimes.

I dropped to the river, and just as I was about to levitate, I landed on some kind of support structure for the bridge instead. All of my struggling with the cloak and that orc-fisted guard must have upset my trajectory. I broke my ankle on the bridge support, but Vhaeraun was smiling on me; my invisibility held and now the guards had no way to hit me with arrows. They were raining down all around, but they couldn't get to me where I was.

It gave me the time I needed to use some healing salves and bandages to bind my wounds and staunch the blood flow. I slipped into the river without a sound, arrows still raining down around me, but none hitting me; I'm Drow and they're surface scum. Without magic they weren't going to find me now without trackers. I just hoped there wasn't a giant eel or some other creature that was going to swallow me whole, but there wasn't. I washed up on shore, my bandages having come loose, right near Candlekeep. I know it was Candlekeep, because I collect books about the surface, and there's an artist's sketch of it in there.

Now that I had my bearings and knew that pursuit by trackers was at least an hour away, I had to get myself patched up. I had several arrows in my back and that ankle was hurt badly. I pulled out my Cloak of the Stalker and wrapped it around me, letting its magic slowly regenerate me and close my wounds. The arrows still had to come out, but I couldn't reach them myself and it was a long way back to the caverns of Sshamath where I could find someone less likely to stab me in the back while they were pulling them out.

And here the event ends. The rest is narrative on Vallyn's return home.

I wandered the surface for a time, sneaking up on groups of surfacer scum and speaking drow to them from the shadows. It was quite amusing really. Some of them jumped and squealed like startled Rothe and others turned towards the sound of my voice and said silly things like "Hail, well met. Come out from the shadows?" Hah! Stupid surfacers. Well met indeed, you fools! I had a conversation with a forest-dwelling Druid of Silvanus. I even revealed myself to him, letting him stare me right in the face if he wanted, but he wouldn't even lift a finger. He talked about his leaf-god, Silvanus, and the Orcs and the balance of the forests. It was boring, I kept waiting for him to scream and attack, but he didn't. I'm not sure why I let him live, but I did.

Eventually I found a familiar voice... Another Drow from Sshamath, but spending time on the surface apparently. She got so angry when I spoke to her in Drow. Foolish Jalil lost her way I think... Regardless, I knew I could put her to use. We went into the temple of one of the darker gods of the surface and she pulled the arrows out and cast some healing for me.

It was high time I went back to Sshamath. The dreadful sun was about to rise again, so I crept back into the labyrinth that leads to the portal to our realm eager to share my exploits with those who would appreciate it.