Post by adzling on Mar 15, 2009 14:12:46 GMT -5
As the fight raged on Cel'lith took a few moments to observe the priestess from the depth of the shadows that he had wrapped about himself. She stood behind the fray, watching with mace held ready. There were no epithets hurled from her mouth as he would expect, she seemed strangely detached, waiting. Waiting for her end perhaps? Such quiet contemplation was hardly the purview of a priestess of Lolth, who was this masked jabress? As Zyil cut down the last of the phase-spiders Cel'lith stepped out of the shadows in front of the priestess and gave her a little nod.
"Vendui priestess, your time has come for now you will surely die. Although such a senseless death would surely be a waste of so fine a jabress. Won't you consider coming over to our side? We will ensure safe passage for dos if the information you provide is worthy." Ce'lith was hoping the gambit would succeed, offer her death or salvation. Most Illythiri would make the switch when the choice was so stark, some would do it for much less. However he held out little hope, all of her previous compatriots had proven to be fanatically driven in their purpose and unswayable by threats of violence. She breathed hard, her breastplate rising and falling with her diaphragm. Cel'lith dropped his weapons to his side in an unthreatening posture and waited.
"You will all perish! My patron will sweep you all into the abyss! Die ibblith!", and with that she swung out with her mace towards Cel'lith's unguarded head before he had time to raise his weapons. As the swing began a small, sharp blade slid into her neck from behind neatly severing her spinal cord and removing any control she had over her actions. Her body dropped to the ground, mace clattering across the floor leaving her corpse lying with legs akimbo and an odd look on her face; her eyes wide in surprise but a smile upon her lips. Cel'lith looked up and nodded to Morfeus. In truth Cel'lith had not expected his plea for treachery to work, he had only been buying time for Morfeus to slip behind her unnoticed. He had kept his arms by his side in order to hide the movements of his fingers as he signed to him "get behind her and slit her throat while I keep her busy".
"Bwael" he proclaimed, "well done Morfeus, the hunt continues".
The group formed up, this time Cel'lith let Zyil lead as he had some thinking to do. She had screamed "patron" not "matron". He didn't think that was misdirection, it had seemed a genuinely angry retort in response to his plea for treachery. The jabress had been calling on her god to strengthen her resolve as she knew she as about to die. So the question remained, who exactly was "he". The only real candidates, given that the "faithful" he had encountered were entirely Drow, was one of the Illythiri pantheon. Considering it was "he" and not "she" that meant Selvetarm, Vhaerun or Ghaunaduar. It was clear that these fanatics weren't Selvetarmians, they were entirely too indirect. A Selvetarmian would just come at his target and attack until they were dead, and they would never attack a temple of Lolth. Vhaerun was entirely more subtle than these nuts, you wouldn't find a Vhaerunian laying down his life so selflessly. So that left Ghaunadar, it made sense to some degree as they were mostly crazed fanatics with little subtlety. However they were usually accompanied by slimes, oozes and such and there had been no sign of them at all.
As Cel'lith was going through his mental calculations he wished the priest was here, his knowledge of the pantheon would have come in handy right about now. He didn't admit to himself that the priest's presence calmed him, gave him a feeling of strength, made Cel'lith feel closer to HIM. Such insights were usually beyond the ability of Drow, they fell much more easily to the more empathic races in Faerun such as Humans.
The little group was now approaching the entrance to the abandoned crypt. This spurred some conversation amongst them that perhaps the lich that had been spotted recently was behind all this. Cel'lith knew this wasn't the case; a ten-day ago he come across one of the masked priestesses fighting a pack of ghouls commanded by the lich. He had waited for her to finish the ghouls and then he had slid his killing dagger into her exposed neck, not killing her but deep enough to knick her spinal cord and paralyze her. Then he had sat her down and began to prepare to question her at his leisure when the damnable lich had appeared and attacked him. She had perished in the crossfire during the battle, from which Cel'lith was unhappy to note the lich had escaped yet again. He would have to deal with the thing soon, it was beginning to get embarrassing. Before he could disavow the group of their suspicions a lone male drow stepped out of the crypt and hailed them.
"Sshamathians! Thank the gods I found dos. I have been tracking these fanatics for days across the Underdark. They hail from another city and are set on bringing down Sshamath!".
His convenient appearance struck most of the band as somehow just too improbable. Zyil in particular expressed his suspicion in no uncertain terms "prove it lest I separate dos head from dos torso and get a priest to extract the truth from dos flapping gums".
"I am Fal'madess from Bregan D'aerthe, I have tracked them for days on orders from Jarlaxle himself" he calmly admitted.
In keeping with his race The Duergar tracker seemed particularly suspicious, "How dee we kna that ye naut be leading us inta aye trap?"
The handsome drow male shot a look of venom at the Duergar and gripped his sword at his side "how dare dos challenge me ibblith!".
Cel'lith used the opportunity to reassert his command, stepping closer to the drow and putting Zyil at his back so he could observe Cel'liths right hand "shut up Duergar, this is drow business."
Eyes locked with the newcomer he said "I suggest dos follow the advice of Zyil here and prove dos assertions jaluk, else he may be tempted to take to dos head to a priest for further questioning". As he was holding the drow's attention Cel'lith moved his hidden fingers in rapid succession signing to Zyil "it would be helpful if dos applied some bargaining pressure with that big sword of yours".
On cue Zyil stepped level with Cel'lith and raised his greatsword to point menacingly at the Fal'madess' abdomen, from this distance he could disembowel him with a twitch of his wrist. "PROVE IT" he growled.
"I carry a signed document from Jarlaxle asking for safe passage. Dare you risk facing the wrath of the mightiest mercenary outfit in the underdark! Nau, in Faeraun itself!" the handsome drow responded with more than a little waver in his voice.
"Let's see it" Zyil continued, pushing his blade forward another inch for emphasis. He wasn't much for subtlety this one Cel'lith thought to himself, but he was a fine tool nonetheless. Sometimes a hammer was necessary. He was beginning to appreciate this brute more and more.
"I have concealed most of my equipment in a cache naut far from here. I was forced to hide when the main body of this group passed through towards Sshamath" Fal'madess admitted.
"Hah, this one be lying methinks" spat the Duergar.
"Shut up!" Cel'lith replied. It was important to put the Duergar in his place, this was drow business. It also helped to assert his control over the group. That was what a drow would call "win,win".
"Very well Fal'madess, you will take us to this cache and show us your proof. If dos does anything to arouse the suspicions of my colleague here he WILL remove dos head with that big sword of his and we will let a priest do the questioning. Am I clear?"
"Very", he replied.
"Bwael, then lead on mercenary. And by lead I mean 'out in front'. Do I make myself clear?"
"Xas" he smiled back.
The Duergar was right, Cel'lith was convinced this was a setup. When the mercenary turned his back to lead the group Cel'lith signed to Morfeus and Zyil, "if he does anything to arouse suspicion kill him without a thought." He didn't wait for a response, he suspected that Zyil would have killed him already if he hadn't restrained him.
Entering the crypt the group proceeded cautiously. The Duergar was certainly ready for an ambush, his suspicions aroused. Cel'lith ordered Drakken to keep his bow at the ready, the little Svirf Renha to take up the rearguard while Zyil took the lead behind Fal and Morfeus clung to the shadows ready to appear at the throat of any enemy at a moment's notice. They fought through groups of bladelings that appeared out of a succession of portals that popped in and out of existence as they moved deeper into the complex. Zyil dispatched them out without breaking a sweat and with little aid from the group, his massive blade swinging in controlled arcs that cut down multiple foes in a single swing. He really was a truly impressive warrior, a fine blunt instrument exactly suited to this kind of work. Fal occasionally called the group to a halt to disable a trap or alarm he had prepared here and there along the way. The Duergar remained suspicious, voicing his concerns about how these traps could have remained primed if such a large group had moved through here so recently. Cel'lith of course agreed, the Duergar was certainly astute, but he just told him to shut up. Better for Fal to believe that whatever ruse he was attempting was working.
Approaching what Cel'lith knew to be the final rooms of the crypt he slipped into the shadows once more and headed out in front of the group. This next room was large, the longest in the crypt. If there was going to be an ambush it would be here. They would position their archers and casters at the far end of the room and their fodder up front. He would let Zyil deal with the fodder while he slipped to the far end of the room and killed whichever casters might be lurking. The room seemed to be empty but he continued ahead nonetheless, there were many ways to cloak oneself, Cel'lith was living proof of that. As he reached the rear of the room the rest of the group was just entering, with Zyil in front Fal having fallen slightly further back. It would be here then, now where were those casters? Steadying himself he crouched, ready. Just as he thought he might have been wrong two drow winked into existence right in front of him their voices rising, arms raised above their heads as they began their incantations. Cel'lith grinned and launched himself out of the darkness at their backs. His rapier went right, plunging into the drow's back narrowly avoiding his spine and impaling his diaphragm, cutting off his breath. Simultaneously his off-hand dagger went left, slicing across the larynx of the other caster and stealing his voice. Both fell dead at his feat, with neither managing more than a syllable of their casting.
"NICELY DONE!" Zyil bellowed at him.
Cel'lith looked up to see Zyil standing over the corpse of Fal'madess, his blade's tip lodged inside his now exposed stomach contents.
"He tried to stab me in the back, fortunately his gut found my weapon before his blade found my throat" he laughed.
That was the first time Cel'lith had seen him laugh. He had to agree however, it was pretty funny.
"Never did trust that one" Mcgirk dead-panned.
That was when they heard laughter from the beyond the door of the adjoining room. It was the laughter of a mad-man, high-pitched and incessant. Cel'lith wondered if they had just been made the butt of some cosmic joke. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Upon entering the room the group fanned out, with Morfeus and Cel'lith taking the points of the "u", Zyil and the Duergar the center at the "line" position and Drakken and the Svirf to the rear with their missile weapons at the ready. Facing them was a drow enrobed in what could only be described as priestly vestments, flanked by two very large shadow-mastiffs. Cel'lith and Morfeus clung to the shadows and began to move into position to deal a death blow should the priest start casting. Zyil lead the line forward and engaged the priest in conversation.
"Who are you priest and what are dos doing in Sshamath?" he mono-toned.
"I am the harbinger of Ergosal! HE comes to stalk the realms and take his place as the head of the Illythiri. Bow before his avatar and dos will be spared!"
"Who?" Zyil replied, giving voice to Cel'lith's bafflement. "Never heard of him, some minor demi-god?"
"HE is Ergosal the deceptor! The one who will bring the spider-bitch to her knees and rule the Illythiri!" the priest squawked, foaming at the mouth.
This was odd, Cel'lith had never heard of "Ergosal". A drow god he didn't know of? He must be piteously weak then, but he did have to admit to liking the idea of this dolt trying to better Lolth. She deserved more than that, far more. However the priest's words seemed to enrage Zyil, he set his jaw, hefted his sword and let out a battle cry that came as little surprise to Cel'lith "SELVETARM!".
Well that did it, Cel'lith was forced to act in support of Zyil. Stepping out of the shadows he targeted the priest first, always silence the caster first his father had taught him in Szith. A flurry of flashing steel cut the priest from behind, chopping first at his neck and then at his kidneys all the while moving quickly down his body ending at his groin. By the time he was finished all that was left of the priest was bloody pile of gore. The rest of the group engaged the shadow-mastiffs and yet another group of spiders that portalled in from somewhere, quickly dispatching them. Standing surrounded by their fallen foes they were left facing the still-functional portal that the spiders had emerged from. It was beginning to shift, collapsing in on itself in slow-motion. Whatever was beyond would soon be out of reach. They looked between one another, wondering what next.
Surprisingly the Duergar stepped forward, "we should be going in there to keel whatever of them's be lurking in there, and bring back whatever gold they may have".
Cel'lith was astounded, "we have no idea what lies on the other side Duergar, it could be a freezing plane of ice or the burning pits of Gehenna. It's madness to go through".
Zyil seemed to agree, "xas, the Morcane is right, it could be a lake of molten lava that dos end up swimming in".
"I don't care, aye there's money on the other side I smell it", and with that the Duergar jumped in.
Cel'lith scoffed, "never see him again".
However it seemed that madness had taken hold of the group, Morfeus gave a little smile and stepped through followed by Drakken and the gnome.
"Once that portal's closed there's no way back Zyil".
"Xas, but I can't let that Duergar show me up, if there's god-killing to be done I'm going to be the one doing it not some stinky Duergar" and with that he stepped through the portal.
Which left Cel'lith standing by himself as the portal began to wink out of existence.
"Fools" he proclaimed to no-one. As he turned to leave an arm reached out of the portal, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and yanking him off his feet and into the abyss.
---to be continued---
::A DM Kelsfar event::
"Vendui priestess, your time has come for now you will surely die. Although such a senseless death would surely be a waste of so fine a jabress. Won't you consider coming over to our side? We will ensure safe passage for dos if the information you provide is worthy." Ce'lith was hoping the gambit would succeed, offer her death or salvation. Most Illythiri would make the switch when the choice was so stark, some would do it for much less. However he held out little hope, all of her previous compatriots had proven to be fanatically driven in their purpose and unswayable by threats of violence. She breathed hard, her breastplate rising and falling with her diaphragm. Cel'lith dropped his weapons to his side in an unthreatening posture and waited.
"You will all perish! My patron will sweep you all into the abyss! Die ibblith!", and with that she swung out with her mace towards Cel'lith's unguarded head before he had time to raise his weapons. As the swing began a small, sharp blade slid into her neck from behind neatly severing her spinal cord and removing any control she had over her actions. Her body dropped to the ground, mace clattering across the floor leaving her corpse lying with legs akimbo and an odd look on her face; her eyes wide in surprise but a smile upon her lips. Cel'lith looked up and nodded to Morfeus. In truth Cel'lith had not expected his plea for treachery to work, he had only been buying time for Morfeus to slip behind her unnoticed. He had kept his arms by his side in order to hide the movements of his fingers as he signed to him "get behind her and slit her throat while I keep her busy".
"Bwael" he proclaimed, "well done Morfeus, the hunt continues".
The group formed up, this time Cel'lith let Zyil lead as he had some thinking to do. She had screamed "patron" not "matron". He didn't think that was misdirection, it had seemed a genuinely angry retort in response to his plea for treachery. The jabress had been calling on her god to strengthen her resolve as she knew she as about to die. So the question remained, who exactly was "he". The only real candidates, given that the "faithful" he had encountered were entirely Drow, was one of the Illythiri pantheon. Considering it was "he" and not "she" that meant Selvetarm, Vhaerun or Ghaunaduar. It was clear that these fanatics weren't Selvetarmians, they were entirely too indirect. A Selvetarmian would just come at his target and attack until they were dead, and they would never attack a temple of Lolth. Vhaerun was entirely more subtle than these nuts, you wouldn't find a Vhaerunian laying down his life so selflessly. So that left Ghaunadar, it made sense to some degree as they were mostly crazed fanatics with little subtlety. However they were usually accompanied by slimes, oozes and such and there had been no sign of them at all.
As Cel'lith was going through his mental calculations he wished the priest was here, his knowledge of the pantheon would have come in handy right about now. He didn't admit to himself that the priest's presence calmed him, gave him a feeling of strength, made Cel'lith feel closer to HIM. Such insights were usually beyond the ability of Drow, they fell much more easily to the more empathic races in Faerun such as Humans.
The little group was now approaching the entrance to the abandoned crypt. This spurred some conversation amongst them that perhaps the lich that had been spotted recently was behind all this. Cel'lith knew this wasn't the case; a ten-day ago he come across one of the masked priestesses fighting a pack of ghouls commanded by the lich. He had waited for her to finish the ghouls and then he had slid his killing dagger into her exposed neck, not killing her but deep enough to knick her spinal cord and paralyze her. Then he had sat her down and began to prepare to question her at his leisure when the damnable lich had appeared and attacked him. She had perished in the crossfire during the battle, from which Cel'lith was unhappy to note the lich had escaped yet again. He would have to deal with the thing soon, it was beginning to get embarrassing. Before he could disavow the group of their suspicions a lone male drow stepped out of the crypt and hailed them.
"Sshamathians! Thank the gods I found dos. I have been tracking these fanatics for days across the Underdark. They hail from another city and are set on bringing down Sshamath!".
His convenient appearance struck most of the band as somehow just too improbable. Zyil in particular expressed his suspicion in no uncertain terms "prove it lest I separate dos head from dos torso and get a priest to extract the truth from dos flapping gums".
"I am Fal'madess from Bregan D'aerthe, I have tracked them for days on orders from Jarlaxle himself" he calmly admitted.
In keeping with his race The Duergar tracker seemed particularly suspicious, "How dee we kna that ye naut be leading us inta aye trap?"
The handsome drow male shot a look of venom at the Duergar and gripped his sword at his side "how dare dos challenge me ibblith!".
Cel'lith used the opportunity to reassert his command, stepping closer to the drow and putting Zyil at his back so he could observe Cel'liths right hand "shut up Duergar, this is drow business."
Eyes locked with the newcomer he said "I suggest dos follow the advice of Zyil here and prove dos assertions jaluk, else he may be tempted to take to dos head to a priest for further questioning". As he was holding the drow's attention Cel'lith moved his hidden fingers in rapid succession signing to Zyil "it would be helpful if dos applied some bargaining pressure with that big sword of yours".
On cue Zyil stepped level with Cel'lith and raised his greatsword to point menacingly at the Fal'madess' abdomen, from this distance he could disembowel him with a twitch of his wrist. "PROVE IT" he growled.
"I carry a signed document from Jarlaxle asking for safe passage. Dare you risk facing the wrath of the mightiest mercenary outfit in the underdark! Nau, in Faeraun itself!" the handsome drow responded with more than a little waver in his voice.
"Let's see it" Zyil continued, pushing his blade forward another inch for emphasis. He wasn't much for subtlety this one Cel'lith thought to himself, but he was a fine tool nonetheless. Sometimes a hammer was necessary. He was beginning to appreciate this brute more and more.
"I have concealed most of my equipment in a cache naut far from here. I was forced to hide when the main body of this group passed through towards Sshamath" Fal'madess admitted.
"Hah, this one be lying methinks" spat the Duergar.
"Shut up!" Cel'lith replied. It was important to put the Duergar in his place, this was drow business. It also helped to assert his control over the group. That was what a drow would call "win,win".
"Very well Fal'madess, you will take us to this cache and show us your proof. If dos does anything to arouse the suspicions of my colleague here he WILL remove dos head with that big sword of his and we will let a priest do the questioning. Am I clear?"
"Very", he replied.
"Bwael, then lead on mercenary. And by lead I mean 'out in front'. Do I make myself clear?"
"Xas" he smiled back.
The Duergar was right, Cel'lith was convinced this was a setup. When the mercenary turned his back to lead the group Cel'lith signed to Morfeus and Zyil, "if he does anything to arouse suspicion kill him without a thought." He didn't wait for a response, he suspected that Zyil would have killed him already if he hadn't restrained him.
Entering the crypt the group proceeded cautiously. The Duergar was certainly ready for an ambush, his suspicions aroused. Cel'lith ordered Drakken to keep his bow at the ready, the little Svirf Renha to take up the rearguard while Zyil took the lead behind Fal and Morfeus clung to the shadows ready to appear at the throat of any enemy at a moment's notice. They fought through groups of bladelings that appeared out of a succession of portals that popped in and out of existence as they moved deeper into the complex. Zyil dispatched them out without breaking a sweat and with little aid from the group, his massive blade swinging in controlled arcs that cut down multiple foes in a single swing. He really was a truly impressive warrior, a fine blunt instrument exactly suited to this kind of work. Fal occasionally called the group to a halt to disable a trap or alarm he had prepared here and there along the way. The Duergar remained suspicious, voicing his concerns about how these traps could have remained primed if such a large group had moved through here so recently. Cel'lith of course agreed, the Duergar was certainly astute, but he just told him to shut up. Better for Fal to believe that whatever ruse he was attempting was working.
Approaching what Cel'lith knew to be the final rooms of the crypt he slipped into the shadows once more and headed out in front of the group. This next room was large, the longest in the crypt. If there was going to be an ambush it would be here. They would position their archers and casters at the far end of the room and their fodder up front. He would let Zyil deal with the fodder while he slipped to the far end of the room and killed whichever casters might be lurking. The room seemed to be empty but he continued ahead nonetheless, there were many ways to cloak oneself, Cel'lith was living proof of that. As he reached the rear of the room the rest of the group was just entering, with Zyil in front Fal having fallen slightly further back. It would be here then, now where were those casters? Steadying himself he crouched, ready. Just as he thought he might have been wrong two drow winked into existence right in front of him their voices rising, arms raised above their heads as they began their incantations. Cel'lith grinned and launched himself out of the darkness at their backs. His rapier went right, plunging into the drow's back narrowly avoiding his spine and impaling his diaphragm, cutting off his breath. Simultaneously his off-hand dagger went left, slicing across the larynx of the other caster and stealing his voice. Both fell dead at his feat, with neither managing more than a syllable of their casting.
"NICELY DONE!" Zyil bellowed at him.
Cel'lith looked up to see Zyil standing over the corpse of Fal'madess, his blade's tip lodged inside his now exposed stomach contents.
"He tried to stab me in the back, fortunately his gut found my weapon before his blade found my throat" he laughed.
That was the first time Cel'lith had seen him laugh. He had to agree however, it was pretty funny.
"Never did trust that one" Mcgirk dead-panned.
That was when they heard laughter from the beyond the door of the adjoining room. It was the laughter of a mad-man, high-pitched and incessant. Cel'lith wondered if they had just been made the butt of some cosmic joke. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Upon entering the room the group fanned out, with Morfeus and Cel'lith taking the points of the "u", Zyil and the Duergar the center at the "line" position and Drakken and the Svirf to the rear with their missile weapons at the ready. Facing them was a drow enrobed in what could only be described as priestly vestments, flanked by two very large shadow-mastiffs. Cel'lith and Morfeus clung to the shadows and began to move into position to deal a death blow should the priest start casting. Zyil lead the line forward and engaged the priest in conversation.
"Who are you priest and what are dos doing in Sshamath?" he mono-toned.
"I am the harbinger of Ergosal! HE comes to stalk the realms and take his place as the head of the Illythiri. Bow before his avatar and dos will be spared!"
"Who?" Zyil replied, giving voice to Cel'lith's bafflement. "Never heard of him, some minor demi-god?"
"HE is Ergosal the deceptor! The one who will bring the spider-bitch to her knees and rule the Illythiri!" the priest squawked, foaming at the mouth.
This was odd, Cel'lith had never heard of "Ergosal". A drow god he didn't know of? He must be piteously weak then, but he did have to admit to liking the idea of this dolt trying to better Lolth. She deserved more than that, far more. However the priest's words seemed to enrage Zyil, he set his jaw, hefted his sword and let out a battle cry that came as little surprise to Cel'lith "SELVETARM!".
Well that did it, Cel'lith was forced to act in support of Zyil. Stepping out of the shadows he targeted the priest first, always silence the caster first his father had taught him in Szith. A flurry of flashing steel cut the priest from behind, chopping first at his neck and then at his kidneys all the while moving quickly down his body ending at his groin. By the time he was finished all that was left of the priest was bloody pile of gore. The rest of the group engaged the shadow-mastiffs and yet another group of spiders that portalled in from somewhere, quickly dispatching them. Standing surrounded by their fallen foes they were left facing the still-functional portal that the spiders had emerged from. It was beginning to shift, collapsing in on itself in slow-motion. Whatever was beyond would soon be out of reach. They looked between one another, wondering what next.
Surprisingly the Duergar stepped forward, "we should be going in there to keel whatever of them's be lurking in there, and bring back whatever gold they may have".
Cel'lith was astounded, "we have no idea what lies on the other side Duergar, it could be a freezing plane of ice or the burning pits of Gehenna. It's madness to go through".
Zyil seemed to agree, "xas, the Morcane is right, it could be a lake of molten lava that dos end up swimming in".
"I don't care, aye there's money on the other side I smell it", and with that the Duergar jumped in.
Cel'lith scoffed, "never see him again".
However it seemed that madness had taken hold of the group, Morfeus gave a little smile and stepped through followed by Drakken and the gnome.
"Once that portal's closed there's no way back Zyil".
"Xas, but I can't let that Duergar show me up, if there's god-killing to be done I'm going to be the one doing it not some stinky Duergar" and with that he stepped through the portal.
Which left Cel'lith standing by himself as the portal began to wink out of existence.
"Fools" he proclaimed to no-one. As he turned to leave an arm reached out of the portal, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and yanking him off his feet and into the abyss.
---to be continued---
::A DM Kelsfar event::