Tales of Sshamath

[adzling]

The Out of Towners part 1

Cel'lith entered the city through Varalla's Passage, stopping at the top of the stairs to take stock of what had just happened; the magnificent view was no longer as distracting as it had once been.

He had just returned to Sshamath from a solo run deep into Gol territory, his purse and pack bulging with the various trinkets he had recovered when the city's magical alarms started to "gong" across the Dark Weavings Bazaar. Turning to the Priest they exchanged glances, nodded to one another and drawing their weapons ran for the stairs.

Upon exiting the city proper they came upon a group of Sshamathian guards holding a line against a trio of attacking Phase Spiders of inordinate size. With the guard's help they quickly dispatched the three over-grown arachnids; each the size of a small house. During their interrupted shopping trip Nyth had related a similar encounter he had just had in the tunnels not more than a few hours ago; an attack of Phase Spiders led by what looked to be a Lolthian Priestess. This time there was no priestess, but the spiders would surely not have attacked a city on their own without being driven to it. Cel'lith ordered the guards back to the city gates and stepping into the shadows stalked ahead of the small force that was now gathering as a result of the city's alarms. He quickly located a larger group of Phase Spiders further into the tunnels and fell on them with gusto; he was not restrained by the typical respect Illythiri held for the creatures for he was no Lolthian. With the help of Morfeus and the Priest they quickly fell, spurting bodily fluids from their abdomens and coloring the cavern floor an iridescent green. As the last of them was dropping Cel'lith heard a Jabress' cry of rage and was surprised to see what appeared to be a Lolthian Priestess emerge from her hiding place further in the tunnels and charge at them! Her initial attack was propelled by fury at her charges being mercilessly slaughtered, perhaps she had expected some kind of reticence on the part of the defenders to engage such "holy" creatures. If so she had attacked the wrong city, Sshamath was not ruled by the spider queen. Nonetheless her onslaught was brutal and rather than dying where he stood Cel'lith ceded the front line to Morfeus and darted back out of reach of her swinging mace, grabbing enough time to recast some of his protective enchantments and quaff a potion of healing. Once fortified he stepped back into the fray, the Lolthian priestess would make an excellent prize for HIM. Unfortunately she also had the wherewithal to know when to run and with both Cel'lith and Morfeus now focusing their attacks on her she turned and ran. Cel'lith immediately gave pursuit, slipping into the shadows and out pacing Morfeus and Nyth. As he turned a corner in the tunnels he came across the priestess stopping for a breath, evidently she thought she had lost her pursuers momentarily; her last mistake. Cel'lith slipped silently behind her and moving in a practiced motion slit her throat from ear to ear practically taking her head clean off. She dropped instantly, dead. Ah well, there would be no questioning this one. Nyth and Morfeus quickly caught up, the priest kneeling to examine the corpse.
"She already wears the veil" Cel'lith spat, pointing with his killing dagger at her expertly slit throat.
The Priest laughed, "Xas abbil, she does, well done HE will be proud."
Cel'lith grinned inwardly at the priest's approval.
The Priest was keen to burn the body lest Lolth raise her and seeing no reasonable argument against they poured alchemist's fire on the corpse and left it to burn.

Returning to the city gates the trio came upon the surviving guards and a recently arrived emissary from the Conclave accompanied by a Weavemaster! Cel'lith bowed quickly and explained what had just transpired, focusing on the Lolthian's part and encouraging the guard to immediately secure the temple of Lolth to forestall further action. The emissary was skeptical and naut very pleased, he seemed to take particular issue with the burning of the corpse.
"You burned her corpse after you killed her?!" he raged.
Cel'lith had to think quickly, it was time to improvise. If he let this line of questioning continue it would naut be long before he found himself in some conclave dungeon awaiting the ministrations of one of their expert "questioners".
"You idiot novice!" he screamed, "she was unpersuaded by my arguments to come quietly and so I had to convince her with the use of spellfire!".
"Spellfire?" the novice blurted.
"Like this!" Cel'lith exclaimed and with that he swept his hands out in an arc to his left and right and as he did so a circular wall of flame erupted around his body incinerating the emissary and knocking the Priest to the ground.
"Ah, that was naut quite what i was expecting" he admitted to the crowd of guards, "that one was weaker than I had anticipated".
The Weavemaster turned and fled back into the city leaving the guards gripping their weapons tightly.
"Don't worry you will see no fight from me, that shebali was threatening a noble!" Cel'lith continued.
After much back and forth, with the Priest encouraging him via hand sign to kill everyone around and be done with it, Cel'lith calmed and waited for the inevitable arrival of the guard.
"One can only hope that whoever sent that little turd of a novice will be pleased to have a more powerful servant in his debt than that dead whelp" Cel'lith espoused to whomever would listen.

----to be continued-----
::A DM Kelsfar event::

[DM kelsfar]

Well Written, though one slight correction on the "Lolthian" She was masked and carried sword and shield, once dead her body held no evidence of who she was or where she may of came from...

[adzling]

don't forget that all these IC posts are from cel'lith's perspective, which may not exactly jibe with reality. Propaganda is often your best weapon ;-)

[adzling]

Cel'lith was deep into gol territory once again, moving unobserved from room to room searching for any valuable trinkets the ibblith may have hoarded. As much as it irked him he passed by many of them lounging on their dirty mats or squabbling over bits of food. He would have preferred to murder them all and let whatever god they worshipped sort them out but his defensive enchantments had expired long ago and though he might kill a handful more would surely come at the sounds of their dying screams and he would be overwhelmed.

He shrugged to himself; murder was his true vocation but thievery was a fun diversion every now and then.

Having helped himself to many of their caches of barely valuable items he moved back towards the exit from their lair, stepping unnoticed past the Ogre guards wandering aimlessly in the warren like drunk duergar (and stinking almost as much). With the exit almost in sight his keen ears picked up the wet sound, barely noticeable, of sharp steel sliding into flesh; a sound he knew intimately. The soft thud that followed was expected as much as it was actually heard. He moved around the bend in the passage to see a blurry ball of flashing steel dancing over the fallen Gol as an Ogre guard stood by staring vacantly at the wall in front of it a stupid grin stuck on it's face; a line of red gore pouring down it's back from a precise incision at it's neck line. For a moment Cel'lith appreciated the precision of the strike that rendered it immobile, too high for the rock-hobbit that was evidently celebrating it's reduction of the Gol to mushroom food. That meant a third was around, still hidden and likely very close. As he passed Cel'lith swept his killing dagger almost casually across the Ogres' neck, moving from right ear to left ear beneath it's chin neatly severing it's carotid artery but not penetrating so deep as to impact it's vertebrae. The brute made a loud crashing thud as it fell to the ground, legs akimbo, arms splayed at odd angle now wearing two stupid grins. Noticing him the Svirf stopped bouncing around and came into focus taking a defensive stance. Cel'lith had seen this one before and he wasn't too keen on it's demeanor, it showed little respect for it's betters and was unnaturally competent with a blade. Well it's partner was still about, he would have to determine who it was before he determined a course of action.

"Out for a walk rock-hobbit?" he chuckled to the svirf.
"Hunting Ogres and Gols, dems are now having biggun Ogres here now toos" the svirf chirped in it's annoying falsetto.
"Eh, those larger ones go down just as easily as the rest, they just require a few more licks before they drop. They are certainly naut any smarter".
"Indeed" came a voice to his right.
Cel'lith snapped his head around but he knew who it was before he came into focus, he'd recognize that croaking voice anywhere it was the "homeless drow"; Morfeus.
"Vendui abbil, using this svirf as fodder?"
"Xas, she fights well enough. We were tracking another suspected Lolthian and her brood of arachnids. Their attacks on the city continue".
"Xas? They must be fanatics, no one else would be so stupid to conduct a direct assault on Sshamath with such puny forces."
Morfeus shrugged "They do nonetheless".
"Bwael, let us find these vermin together" Cel'lith replied, wondering to himself exactly what the nature of the relationship was between Morfeus and the female Svirf.

----to be continued----
::A DM Kelsfar event::

[adzling]

The three of them moved in complete silence, on the surface anyone skilled enough to spot them might refer to them as shadows, here in the UD where no light penetrates they weren't even that. Cel'lith knew the rock-hobbit was skilled at moving unseen but having spent the last few hours in her company hunting these Lolthian fanatics even he was beginning to be impressed at her capability. Well she was almost the size of kobold so she did have an unfair advantage in that department, perhaps he should learn that shrinking spell after all.

They had been tracking, and killing, these Lolthite nuts throughout the outer tunnels in an attempt to capture one for questioning, so far without success. Whenever they cornered one she would invariably charge headlong at the group forcing them to kill her outright, failing that they would fall upon their own blade or if they did not have the energy left to perform the act themself they would order one of their spider charges to do it for them. A task they seemed to relish as much as anything else. It was getting tiresome and Cel'lith was beginning to feel they were being lured into some kind of setup. He couldn't explain his feeling of foreboding, logically it made little sense to sacrifice so many priestesses just to lure these three random Sshamathians to their doom. However the feeling persisted, nagging at the back of his mind as they moved into another warren of tunnels.

Eventually the chase led them into the area where the Displacer Beasts lurked, naut a good sign this was about as close to Varalla's Passage, the entry point for Sshamath, as one could get without attracting the guards. As they were about to cross one of the stone bridges over the river they came across a lone Svirf, well a lone Svirf in the company of a Ghast. The undead was obviously it's charge, some kind of summoned fodder no doubt. Odd for a rock-hobbit, they typically focussed on illusion magic naut necromancy. The female Svirf, he had heard Morfeus call her Chloe, seemed to recognize the newcomer and hailed it as a cousin.
Cel'lith wasn't about to be distracted from his hunt by the presence of yet another of these damned deep gnomes and so just continued past as the two svirfs resolved their greetings. He was soon separated from the rest of the group and as he came around a slowly arcing tunnel-way heard the call of a priestess ahead! His pulse quickened and he readied his blades, if all went well she would soon be lying paralyzed at his feet wondering why she could no longer move.

Unfortunately for Cel'lith it did not go so well.

-----to be continued----
::A DM Kelsfar event::

[raenir]

//OOC, wish i was there

[adzling]

Swooning and disoriented Cel'lith's vision spun wildly as he tried to get a grip on his surroundings; coming back from the dead always had that affect on him. He was standing in a dead-end tunnel surrounded by piles of spider corpses the size of small houses, dead and bleeding drow jabressen in battle armor and two very-much-alive deep gnomes grinning viciously at him. It took him a few seconds but everything began to come into focus rather quickly as the female Svirf finished her reading of a scroll and the corpse of Morfeus laying at her feet shuddered back to life, it's eyes fluttering open.

"Ah, it would seem that those priestesses got the better of us" he said to no one in particular (he couldn't bring himself to fully acknowledge that he had been saved by a rock-hobbit).
"yessum, thems kills youse and the other drow boy ands mes and me cousin hads to finishes thems off to get to your bodies. Nows you twos owes me, better be nicers now drows" the female Svirf sing-songed at him.

Cel'lith was pretty sure she was mocking him, no Svirf and drow had ever become what a surfacer would call "friend", at least not as far as Cel'lith knew. But then again truth be told (if that was possible for a drow) Cel'lith didn't really know what the rivvil word "friend" meant. He took it to mean something akin to "person-you-know-well-that-is-indebted-to-you". According to that interpretation the damn rock-hobbit was now his friend, the ignominy of it! Ah well who said debts had to be paid back? He had once seen his father pay back a creditor by planting a dagger in his back, perhaps that was a reasonable solution to this conundrum. Then again given the gnome's preternatural speed with her blades and ability to disappear at will perhaps he should just pay her back with gold.

Finally recovering his senses Morfeus stood up and gave out a little cackle, at he least appreciated the irony of the situation.

"Let's get back to Varalla's passage, this was an ambush and I suspect an all-out attack on the gates to follow" Cel'lith told Morfeus, studiously ignoring the presence of his two diminuitive saviors.

Arriving back at the gates to Sshamath they ran into the Priest. He was interested to discover what they had been doing in the deep tunnels all this time and as the svirf-with-the-pet-ghast began to recount their hunt Cel'lith noticed a large group of drow approaching from the deeper caves, the direction his group had just come from! Comprising both Jalukken and Jabressen they were dressed in non-descript clothing absent any markings and wearing masks. They openly carried their weapons, it didn't look like they were here for the shopping. A verbal confrontation quickly followed which before long ended with one of the Jabressen loudly whistling as she raised her weapon.

The little group of Sshamathians charged the group of drow right as their spider reinforcements arrived. The battle was quick and vicious in the confined area in front of the city gates. Before long every one of the Lolthites was cut down and lay dead amongst the body-parts of their spider companions.

Cel'lith moved closer to the city gates and quickly recounted their encounter to the city guards. A grizzled sergeant whispered something to a spider perched on his shoulder which quickly scurried down his back and dissappeared. A Weavemaster of the Conclave arrived in a puff of magical energy and immediately launched into a detailed questioning of Cel'lith. He had a Duergar priest in tow, evidently a hired gun, who attempted to raise one of the priestesses corpses and commune with it. All he got was a rather uncooperative spirit who made empty threats before vanishing back to it's plane.

The Lolthites had attacked the city! The temple had to be secured, he could not imagine why the Conclave did not move against it. Something had to be done, and quick!

::A DM Kelsfar event::

[adzling]

It had been a few cycles since the Lolthites had attacked and Cel'lith was beginning to have his doubts about their origin. He had heard whispers of an attack on the spider-kissers temple in the city, details were rather vague and indeterminate but it seemed that more than a few of the misandrist's had perished at the hands of their assailants. He smiled inwardly at the thought of the perplexed look that must have crossed their faces when they finally materialized in Lolth's domain and found no succor, nothing but unending torment at the hands of her infernal minions. It was clearly apparent that the assassins had naut been sent by the Conclave, not at all their style. They would have simpy blasted the temple to the ground with magic and gone about their daily business, they held little respect for religion and to engage in such stealth would have been a waste of time better spent entwined within the graces of the weave. So if not the conclave then whom? Cel'lith was beginning to suspect a third-hand, one that worked to pit the temple against HIS children. But who's hand would pit mother against son? One that held love for neither, that narrowed the field not one iota. Well the Illythiri pantheon was replete with internecine conflict, son attacked daughter, daughter struck at mother, mother held enslaved her grandson and on it went. It was one chaotic jumble of fighting demi-gods with the spider-bitch sitting at the top of the pile, or web as she would have it. And that was even if it was a god at all, who's to say it wasn't another city state acting to weaken Sshamath by cracking apart it's factions? Hmm...well that did tell him something at least. Whoever was behind this knew the pressure points within Sshamathian society, where to apply leverage to break the mixing pot asunder. That meant it was probably another Illythiri, probably.

::A DM Kelsfar event::

[DM kelsfar]

Such a Poet! Karma!

[adzling]

Leaving Varalla's passage and heading out into the nearby tunnels Cel'lith went through his standard preparations for the unknown. As his father had taught him in Szith he stowed anything that might move or make a noise, ran his fingers casually along his chest checking the positioning of his brace of hidden daggers and finally letting his arms adopt a more ready position hanging further out to his sides and thereby puffing out his cloak to make him appear larger than he was. Approaching the entrance to the spore beetles caverns he came across a lone Jabress standing idly.
"Vendui Jabress, waiting for someone?" he asked politely.
"You talk to me Jaluk?" she shot back.
Cel'lith's ire began to rise almost instantly, who was this female of uncertain rank to respond with such audacity to a practioner of the art? Perhaps another Lolthite, like the ones he had slain in the tunnels this past ten-day.
He responded with a fairly banal retort intended to put her in her place, "I suggest dos respect dos betters Jabress. This is naut Menzo, you are in Sshamath now; here the Conclave rules."
"What? MY better?" she gasped in apoplexy.
"Xas, you would do well to remember dos station" he grinned at her.
"I will naut bow to such as dos!" she almost screamed at him.
Had there been some company around to demonstrate his rank in more detail Cel'lith would have prefaced his attack with a snide remark, something like "I can see dos are in need of a lesson in civility, allow me to help dos with dos education". Instead he simply flicked out his left wrist that held his killing dagger at the ready under the folds of his cloak. It neatly severed her vocal cords stealing her death cry while simultaneously cutting her carotid artery and neatly avoiding lodging in her vertebrae. She fell to the floor, dead before she hit blood bubbling out of the wound forming a veil of sorts that covered her neck from the chin down.
Turning to leave Cel'lith took a step away from the corpse and then caught himself. Turning back he spat on the cooling body and said to no-one in particular "If you Lolthites will not learn, I will teach you your station". With a swish of his cloak he stormed off in search of other prey.
It seemed that he couldn't resist showing off his rank after all, even if the only one watching was HIM.

::Random Encounter in the UD::

[adzling]

-----Edited from Rayner's original post-----

Rayner stood to the rear of the little hunting party fuming, the kobolds caves had held few prey, carried even less loot and consequently tensions were high. Their Duergar tracker seemed to think there was a group of humanoids ahead, from the smell of them something far more foul than Kobolds.

"Well, what are dos waiting for? Get their attention!" Rayner bellowed. His orders were backed up by the rest of the drow in the group and so the Duergar was compelled to obey. Muttering something to himself about ale (what else?) he made his way ahead to reconnoiter. He quickly returned a pall having fallen over his face, "ghouls, a whole pack, and hungry by the looks of them."

The expedition, a goal now in front of them, went about the task in a methodical if not calm manner. The pack was quickly dispatched with no losses leaving the drow surrounded by their handiwork; rent and smashed corpses of the already-dead. Rayner was considering just why this pack had ventured so close to Sshamath, almost entering Varalla's passage itself when they had come upon them. It was unusual for such ibblith be so daring. Hunger alone wouldn't explain it there was plenty to eat out in the tunnels if you weren't choosy, and ghouls were amongst the least picky of eaters. He was about to give voice to his concerns when a booming, phlegmatic voice echoed down the corridor at them, "I am in need of new petsss...come by my childrennn...."

Rayner looked up to find himself staring in the eyes of what could only be described as a living terror. There was no denying it, that creature with the rotting face, staggering gait and bejewelled crown perched haphazardly on it's balding skull was one of the most powerful of all undead, a Lich!

From under his cowl Rayner chuckled to himself and replied “Usstan have a better idea, how about dos bathe in the contents of these vials?" In both of his hands were two vials of water, both blessed by a Yathrin. At the same moment the first member of the hunting group turned. The lithe and meticulously groomed drow's body practically exploded out of it's clothing, strips of flesh falling off in shreds exposing the bone and muscle beneath. The group stood transfixed as the newly formed ghoul tilted it's head back and let out a keening noise that sounded eerily like "FFEEEDDD" in Drowic. Still in shock Rayner's constant beatings under the lash of the Yathrinen finally served it's purpose, for even without his mind working properly his muscle reflexes carried on their business unaided. Eyes narrowing to force his brain to engage he quickly tossed the two vials at the Lich, and they cracked and burst against the Lich’s flesh creating quick, bright flashes of light. However….the effect of the holy water was not the same on the Lich as it was on the ghouls. It did sear small patches of flesh however the Lich remained standing and almost unaffected as he continued to turn more members of the Drow expedition into his children. With no other option, Rayner let lose a quick volley of arrows and turned to flee down the cavern.

To his dismay this was not the outskirts of the Szith that he knew so very well, this particular passage was a dead end. Now in more ways then one as the Lich glared and turned his gaze to Rayner. The last thing that went through his mind was how odd it felt to feel his stomach and lower intestine burst out his abdomen and hang like a skirt about his waist, now that was not at all flattering, his tailor wouldn't be pleased.

-----To be continued-----
::A DM Kelsfar event::

[arsonestic]

*edited*

In town, looking around


Look who showed up when everything was said and done....

[adzling]

He was feeling a bit groggy from the previous night spent in the company of the Priest at the Last Elixir. They had met to discuss various items of business and it had quickly devolved into a rambling drinking session covering the finer points of Sshamathian trade routes with their relative import determined by the quality of their associated regional alcoholic beverages. Of course they had to sample each in turn to determine exactly which was the most preferable trade route. Cel'lith was almost sure that the Ched N'asad spider-whisky had won the evening but he couldn't be certain, that was simply the point at which his memory terminated in a haze of fragmented imagery. Levering himself off his cot in the Gloura's wings he made his way, shakily, out of the tavern and away from the buzzing sound of the proprietors' wings. He determined that his first port of call should be a small food stall in the Dark Weavings Bazaar. It was run by a Deep Imaskari and specialized in the kind of greasy, fried fungus his stomach needed right now. As he meandered towards the stall he remembered the odd encounter he had had the previous cycle with the group of Rivvil "traders" in Southern Sshamath. Something wasn't quite right about that group, they radiated more magical power than most illythiri which was somewhat hard to believe. Not to mention they had been in the company of that bothersome female rock-hobbit. Well he couldn't know everything that happened in the city of dark weavings, better to focus on his stomach right now...it required less thought and frankly his pounding head demanded it.

Coming around the bend in the street that led to the entrance to the bazaar he was greeted by a sight that made his mind reel, well it was reeling already from the remnants of the spider-whisky this was just the capper to his hangover that derailed completely any possibility of logical thought. Milling around the main street that ran past the bazaar was a rather large group of ghouls feasting on the remains of whatever random passersby had been unfortunate enough to....pass by! As his head spun Cel'lith stood transfixed by the ghoulish spectacle. These undead had obviously been denizens of Sshamath in their previous incarnation, some even looked vaguely familiar though he could naut place them at first. Unfortunately the nearest one spotted him and immediately let out a peel of hunger that rocked Cel'lith back on his heels, right as the entire group turned and charged him claws outstretched and mouths agape. It looked like they had also come to the bazaar for breakfast and their first course had done little to sate their appetite!

Stumbling backwards to gain a little distance Cel'lith tried to get his mind to work, the group was so large! Instinctively he threw himself into the shadows as the closest ghoul raked his claws across his chest scoring a vicious strike that bled profusely staining his robes a dark red. Gah this would mean yet another trip to the tailor (Belados had burnt his last wardrobe to cinders the previous cycle due to the actions of that cursed squid-head Ithic)!

Pushing his clothing concerns out of his mind Cel'lith clung to the shadows as the large group of ghouls rampaged through the bazaar screaming for his flesh, it seemed they were insanely hungry and they were going to make him their next meal. Well, not if he had anything to say about it, his rapier could be very persuasive. Moving in the opposite direction to the pack he stepped into an unlit alcove and began casting his defensive enchantments, starting with the most powerful ones first. As he completed his final dweomer the ghoul that had first seen him came upon him again, it's sense of smell must have been more acute than the rest of the group. Funny, that one really did seem familiar.

The next few minutes were a blur of blades and claws, but mostly blades. Cel'lith used the shadows to his advantage, stepping in and out of sight with an almost supernatural alacrity. First one ghoul fell to his onslaught then another, soon they all lay dead (or rather dead-er) strewn all about the bazaar. He was thankful for HIS blessing, the power to bend the shadows to his will. Without such ability he would be just another chunk of meat in the maw of that particularly familiar Ghoul.

A few minutes passed with only the noise of Cel'lith's ragged breathing, the bazaar was quieter than it had ever been, the merchants either locked behind stout doors or rendered to their constituent parts by the pack of ghouls. Bending to one knee he began examine the remains of the ghoul that had seemed so familiar, the first one that had attacked him. As he observed it he noticed that something odd was happening to the corpse, it was beginning to lose it's grey-green skin-tone reverting back to the deep black of an illythiri. First one finger twitched then another, and finally it's chest began to heave with a ragged intake of breath. Although he studied the Necromantic arts Cel'lith had no clue what was happening here beyond the obvious, this ghoul was transforming back into it's original form...Rayner! All of the ghoul-pack was now twitching and starting to revert to their true forms. Was this some kind of mass-polymorph spell?

As he pondered this a tell-tale smell of frying fungus wafted over from deeper in the bazaar, the Imaskari had survived! Well the questioning of Rayner would have to wait. They had already fed it was only courteous for Cel'lith to do the same.

----to be continued----
::A DM Kelsfar event::

[adzling]

::The Conclusion of the Out-of-Towners plot-line::

Sshamath was entering the fourth quarter of it's cycle, the light cast from the faerie-fire limning it's many structures dimming slightly, on the surface it would be called "evening". With the "fourth quad" came a bustle of activity as the population moved into a different part of it's daily routine; shops closing, guards changing, restaurants and taverns becoming busy.

Cel'lith was close to the entrance of the Dark Weavings Bazaar perusing the array of magically enchanted weaponry on offer at one of the merchants when he heard a commotion on the main thoroughfare that wraps around the great central pillar, Z'orbruath. Looking over he was surprised to see a member of the Sshamathian City Guard struggling to carry the burnt and blasted body of one of his compatriots. A crowd was quickly gathering, some offering aid, others peppering the guard with questions and some laying bets on whether his unfortunate companion would survive his wounds or expire before reaching the city infirmary. Cel'lith was a little confused as to why the guard was even bothering to drag his companion to medical attention, he should have left him where he had dropped in the tunnels and continued fighting whatever it was that had caused his wounds. Perhaps the unconscious one was a noble in service to the Conclave, males that were not suited to The Art were often so drafted. Still, it was odd. As he watched the scene unfold it became apparent that the guard was intent on reaching the infirmary and was only stopping to catch his breath.

In answer to his questioners he proclaimed, "I have come from Varalla's Passage, we were attacked while out on patrol in the nearby tunnels, the city is under attack!"

It made little sense to Cel'lith that someone would attack at the changing of the guard when the most amount of soldiery was in attendance, unless they were insane or stupid. Which immediately brought to mind the encounters he had had recently with the "Lolthites" in the tunnels and the rumors of the "Vhaeraunites" who had assaulted the temple of the spider-bitch in the last ten-day; both of which were obviously a transparent ruse. Perhaps whichever idiot was behind those attacks was also behind this one, if so it would offer him an opportunity to pursue them further and perhaps even prevail finally. Whomever led such an expedition would garner some recognition in the eyes of the Conclave, recognition that would go far towards engendering a positive disposition towards them and their allies. Cel'lith made these calculations quickly in his head, it was second-nature for a Drow to be constantly assessing how to increase one's rank and standing and to push every situation to their advantage. He surreptitiously flicked his fingers in the correct manner to limn the structure nearest the crowd with a subtle, shifting faerie-fire. This ensured that as he stepped into the circle of Sshamathians he was back-lit in such a way as to highlight his presence; a little drama went a long way.

"An attack on the city?" he exclaimed, "the situation must be dire if the guard cannot repel them, we must assemble a scratch-force and counter-attack."

Looking around he saw some familiar faces in the crowd, ones that would be good fodder to sop up the enemy's attacks while he employed his carefully honed death-dealing skills. "Quickly, all of you who can carry a weapon, you will come with me and reinforce the guard to buy the Conclave time to react."

He didn't expect a Sshamathian to help out of the kindness of his heart and so he added "Their generosity should be quite respectable upon hearing of our performance" at which more than a few eyes lit up and weapons were drawn.

---to be continued---
::A DM Kelsfar event::

[adzling]

The chaotic noises of battle echoed down Varalla’s passage carrying with it the unmistakable chittering of spider-kin and the ring of drow weaponry. Standing at the gates of Sshamath the little group prepared themselves to join the fray, variously readying weapons, stringing bows and preparing spell components each according to their own vocation. Cel’lith was quite pleased to finally face these idiot invaders in pitched battle. He carefully weighed each member of the team for their strengths and weaknesses, he would have to direct this little band if he expected to reap the rewards for their efforts. The group comprised the Duergar tracker Mcgirk, a female Svirfneblin calling itself Renha, the Illythiri Drakken, Morfeus and the brute Zyil in full-plate and wielding a greatsword. Individually they weren’t worth much, well excepting Zyil whom he had seen cleave whole groups of Gols in twain with a single swing of his 4’ long blade. However together they would work as an effective anvil with Cel'lith as the hammer. He would let the fodder draw the enemy into their ranks and once engaged he would choose his moment to attack with surprise from their rear. He couldn’t help but let a wide grin slip across his face, he was about to practice his favorite pass-time, killing. Slipping into the shadows he moved like liquid darkness, sliding on silent feet towards the sounds of battle leaving the rest of the group to finalize their preparations. As he approached the entrance to the Displacer tunnels he stopped momentarily and gave a low hiccup-chirp. To the untrained ear it sounded much like any old cave-cricket on it’s daily routine of mate-finding. However the Duergar tracker knew the sound instantly and pushed the group into action urging them towards Cel’lith’s position. As they approached the Duergar separated from the group and joined Cel’lith, together they stepped into the Displacer warren leaving the rest behind. They scouted the tunnels closest to the entrance to no avail, there were signs of recent battle with bulbous spider corpses as big as rothe strewn about but they were empty of anything living, including Displacers. The battle must have moved on deeper into the tunnels, they would have to return and fetch the rest of the group from Varalla’s passage.

Upon re-entering Varalla’s passage it was clear why they hadn’t found the enemy. The floor of the small cavern was covered in slick spider-gore and piled high with their hairy limbs and pieces of their enormous exoskeletons. Deeps gashes that Cel’lith took to be from Zyil’s greatsword marked the great majority of them. In the center of the pile of parts stood Zyil, looking as though he had ripped open their abdomens and taken a bath in their organs. Standing silent, barely out of breath, he lifted his gaze from the floor and caught the look of surprise on Cel’lith’s face which he must have mistaken for shock at killing the sacred creatures of Lolth as be blurted “they wouldn’t listen to reason”.

Given the situation Cel’lith doubted the spider-queen would care, but then he wasn’t a priestess and could not pretend to fathom the workings of her labyrinthian mind, so he just shrugged and flashed him a smile. The invaders had circled back around behind their little scratch-force and engaged them while Cel’lith and McGirk had been scouting the warren, not so stupid after all he noted. Perhaps he had underestimated his foe.

While they spent a few minutes tending to the wounded and wiping the spider-gore from themselves Zyil just stood by impassively, oblivious to the rest of the group. Cel’lith didn’t know if he was even rational at that point, his eyes seemed to float in the air like red willow-the-wisps, unfocussed and unmoving. He was beginning to be a little unnerving. Having completed their preparations they formed up, moving into the Displacer warren as a group this time. Once more Cel’lith slid into the dark spaces between the light of the glowing cave-fungus and moved ahead of them, the tracker following closely behind. Mcgirk quickly caught the trail of a large group of drow accompanied by several huge spiders that led them deeper into the warren and across the river towards the old crypt. As they approached they were set upon by another group of improbably large arachnids being led by a masked Drow priestess. As the fodder tied down the spiders Cel’lith advanced unnoticed on the priestess.

---to be continued---
::A DM Kelsfar event::