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| Running Deep; (p) | |
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| Topic Started: Mon Dec 7, 2009 9:55 pm (216 Views) | |
| Umae'lara | Mon Dec 7, 2009 9:55 pm Post #1 |
 
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Continued from Here ___________________________________________________ Xuntyrr, House Melduis’ weapons master, followed Umae’lara into the tiny chapel deep in the slums of Lith My'athar. This was not the sanctioned temple to Lolth that the foul inhabitants of Menzoberranzan’s sister city allowed in their midst. No, this place was much smaller, clandestine, and guarded by illusionary sorcery. It held the power of the handmaidens and the spider queen in the same way one dares hold a scorpion in their fist: carefully, and fully aware of the poisonous sting. As much as Umae, a distinguished priestess, despised the coddled abominations of Lith My’athar, she could not hide the dreary reverence that crept upon her kohl features. Though small, the chapel throbbed with ancient power. White parquet floors were designed to look like awesome webworked tattoos and the high domed ceiling was a piecemeal menagerie of fabled, sometimes sacred, mythos. It was a beautiful place despite the thick layer of dust and quiet solidarity of an oppressed faith. Here, taboos thrived right under the nose of Lith My’anthar’s biased guard; yet the hard-edged dogmas, the Old Words, were spoken only in whispers. Umae had a need for secrecy too. She and Xuntyrr were, ironically, enemies of the peace; hardnosed cultural epitomes, the entirety of that which Lith My’athar so fanatically shunned. The blood that ran through Melduis’ eldest daughter was too pure to parade around without hiding her pedigree beneath the shadows of a cloak. Xuntyrr wore the same, but beneath, sported twin scimitars honed to deadly precision. As the pair waited in the chapel’s foyer, listening to the pitiful mewing of a lone fledgling acolyte, the air grew thick with incense smoke. A portcullis hid from view behind a lavender and black tapestry opened slowly. Umae and Xuntyrr turned their heads at the sound of stone scraping against stone, neither of their expressions changed beneath their cowls. From the misty chamber stepped a lithe figure wearing a set of tattered robes. She was a priestess from some long dissolved house, slight and beautiful. She nodded silently at Umae’lara and beckoned for her to come with a flick of her wrist. Umae cast a lazy glance to her weapons master and former lover and followed, the stone door sealing behind her. “It is good to see you, Umae’lara,” said the priestess as they walked down a long, narrow corridor built into the foundation of the chapel. “And you, Shynt’drin.” The Melduis highborn’s voice was flat. “You’ll be pleased to know that I handpicked the siltrin myself. Come, look.” Shynt’drin made a series of complex hand gestures at the solid slab of rock that had turned the passageway into a dead-end. The stone slid aside without so much as a rumble and Umae followed Shynt’drin inside. There, bound to the far wall by thick iron chains, were eight huddled masses of flesh. Umae lifted a hand to her nose; the fetid odor of feces, urine and fresh vomit was stifling. “They are all proven warriors, some less proven than others, but at the end of the whip they all react the same.” Umae nodded at the disheveled priestess’ quip, her eyes carefully scanning each one of the prisoners. “Forgive me, but this was all you could find? They seem so…broken.” Shynt’drin shrugged absently, “You gave me very little time to work with. These things are the best I could find unless you would rather have the young ones cut their teeth on their own kind?” “Tempting, but no. They must be surface dwellers. As these all are I assume?” “Of course.” Shynt’drin reached into the folds of her robes and yanked her snake-headed whip free from its leather restraint. Umae watched all eight of the prisoners visibly stiffen. One male, a pale faced fellow with long greasy blonde hair yelled something to the females in his native tongue. It sounded dirty and feral like the call of a wounded animal. Shynt’drin arced her arm back and brought the whip down into the flesh of his chest. The male slumped, groaning weakly, bleeding. “Enough of that. They need to be able to put up a fight. Feed them well, water them, find suitable clothing and put blades in their hands. No enchantments.” Umae’s voice held a sharp edge of authority and Shynt’drin, pursing her soft lips, nodded somberly. “Where shall I release them?” “In the caves. Tell them they are to be hunted, do not be subtle.” “And if they escape?” Umae laughed in earnest, “They will not escape. Lith My’athar has made you forget yourself. These sacks of flesh are no more worrisome to Melduis’ highborn than tunnel rats. Hell, I’ve met tunnel rats more imposing than this sorry bunch. Fear not for the young ones, myself and Xuntyrr will be there to wipe their noses and powder their behinds if anything goes amiss. Which it won’t.” “Very well.” Shynt’drin sounded deflated as both females exited the chamber. Umae emerged a moment later from behind the tapestry and Xuntyrr unconsciously moved to her side, silent. “All is well.” She said to the weapons master, “let us take a moment to offer our respects to Lolth before we return home.” Xuntyrr nodded and stood behind Umae as she knelt on a padded dias, his hands on the hilts of his blades. |
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Tue Dec 8, 2009 2:22 am Post #2 |
 
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A woman moved through the streets quickly, her slow sinuous dance drawing the gaze of men of all walks of life. She gave off an aura of supreme confidence, and her tanned, peach-colored skin stood out in the dark tunnels. She seemed to give off a lithe, serpentine grace, and every movement she made seemed designed to entice. Several of the drow dropped what they were doing, watching the odd human woman moving as if she owned the underground. One drow even drew a scimitar, his face turning into a harsh scowl as he drew close. "Our society values women above men. Nevertheless, you are not a member of our-" She turned slowly, and slithered towards him, running a hand along his chest and coiling around him as she spoke; despite the enticing tone, there was an undercurrent of powerful, almost consuming anger in her words. "I am perfectly aware what I am. I don't intend to stay long, I simply need to have a meeting with one of your preistesses..." She leaned forward, raking a pair of fangs across the man's neck before turning gracefully and seeming almost to glide towards the chapel. The door opened smoothly from her touch, and she seemed to glide inside the building silently, the only noises a soft rustling from her dress of stitched green scales as they rubbed together and her footsteps, echoing through the chapel. Her voice came as a soft whisper, while she approached the drow with a grim smile. "Your name is Umae'lara, yes? A friend of mine asked me to meet you. He practically begged me to get your permission before he even stepped foot in these tunnels." She shook her head, chuckling nastily. "I gutted him over it, too." |
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| Umae'lara | Tue Dec 8, 2009 8:33 pm Post #3 |
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“Sounds messy.” Xuntyrr’s husky voice caused his words, aired above the reverent hush of the chapel, to sound absurd. Umae’lara though, quietly finished her prayer, stood, and smoothed the creases out of her cloak before turning. She placed a hand, gently, on the small of her weapons master’s back and gave the strange female an appraising look. Then, she smiled. “My, my, aren’t you a pretty one.” Umae’s Common was thickly accented with the raspy undercurrents of her native tongue. Still, the words were delicately pronounced and cool. “I’m pretty sure we’ve never met yet you know my name.” The Drow titled her head subtlety, eyes narrowing. “Yes, I would have remembered your face. But here you are, fresh from a gutting wishing to speak with House Melduis’ Highborn.” Umae snorted a clipped laugh from the back of her throat. “I’d be impressed with your gall if I wasn’t so damn confused.” “Xuntyrr, help me understand,” The priestess crossed her arms beneath her breast and squared her shoulders. She heard her weapons master offer a nearly unperceivable chuckle as she continued, “Some strange, ill mannered, she-beast crawls into a sacred temple to the spider queen, pronounces my name as if we were sisters, and speaks of some recent flaying of a friend.” Umae frowned suddenly, the expression genuine but for the poison in her eyes. “What permission could I give you that would make a difference now?” She shrugged and wet her lips, “Speak quickly now,” she unfurled a hand and flicked it at the female in the shimmering green dress, “I have better things to do.” |
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Wed Dec 9, 2009 12:59 am Post #4 |
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Lilith's eyes grew glassy and clouded as she stared into space, seeming thoroughly confused by Umae'lara's words. Finally, the life returned to her eyes and she gave a soft giggle. "It was an expression, milady. I didn't kill him, that wouldn't be nearly as much fun. No, no...he's simply going to be spending the next decade or so doing anything I need before he's even close to squared." She gripped the edge of her snake-skin dress, giving a polite curtsy and finally looking up at her with a subdued glance. "I apologize for my previous impolite manner. You see, your highness, male or female, there are so many people in this world that ask for much more than they've earned. I hate to give respect to someone who doesn't deserve it, and I'd rather risk a moment of improper behavior to a queen than hailing a peasent as royalty." She moved forward slowly, seeming much more docile now as she bowed her head. "My friend...he fancies himself a friend and accomplice to the drow. He's never even met a true drow, but he still tries to pretend he could survive in these tunnels. I think, milady...that he could use a dose of reality. He should understand just how magnificent the drow are." Her head pressed against the cool, marble floor, and her red hair covered her head completely, as her voice rose once more. "I ask not for permission to approach you, for that would be entirely self-defeating. I ask only that my friend, being a male, can at least bask in the presence of a drow priestess without suffering for it. At least...not too much." |
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| Umae'lara | Wed Dec 9, 2009 6:33 pm Post #5 |
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The Drow’s face remained impassive as the woman spoke, glad that her rush of words had a concise point. Finally, a delicate smile, perhaps a practiced formality, hitched itself to Umae’s plum colored lips. “There is no need for apologies….or any more flattery. While it is appreciated, I would hate to think that I am being patronized.” With that, Umae’s hand snaked out and took a twist of the woman’s vibrant red hair between her forefinger and thumb. It was a brief touch, gentle and filled with curiosity, and she felt her weapons master stiffen behind her. She let the few strands drop back in place on its master’s head and straightened her spine as if she had never moved. “You friend sounds like a fool.” The Drow broke eye contact with the woman and pretended to be more interested in the accumulation of filth beneath her manicured fingernails. Her voice was airier than expected as if her words were formed in a vacuum. “But if it’s a dose of reality you wish for your friend to swig like a vial of hemlock, perhaps I can accommodate.” “Priestess,” Xuntyrr exhaled the title. “Quiet, male. This does not concern you.” Umae snapped back at him, her cheeks flushing with raw embarrassment. “It is no secret that House Melduis will be hosting a Blooding soon. I’ll assume you have no idea what that is.” Umae’s expression soured, “It is an ancient tradition where the young ones prove their worth. If your friend wants to experience the majesty of the Drow, as you say, then this would be the perfect opportunity for him. With you as his guardian of course. I cannot permit some rogue surface male to sully the waters. Still, voyeurs are not as uncommon as one would think during this event. Last year, when I led the Blooding, a dwarf emissary from the Spine was in attendance with an entire entourage of little rock eaters in tow.” The Drow emitted a sound that could have been a laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that it rumbled from the back of her throat like a growl. “Tomorrow night then. Bring your little friend and a gift. And tell him not to speak unless spoken to or look me in the eye.” Umae’s grin was feral, her perfectly white teeth eerily pearlescent in contrast to her dark skin. Quickly, she turned a snatched the Melduis insignia from Xuntyrr’s cloak: two spiders, joined at the thorax, were painted black across a field of stunning violet and silver. The Drow held the insignia out to the woman casually. “Show this to the guard and they should let you pass. I will meet you before the festivities begin.” |
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Wed Dec 9, 2009 10:58 pm Post #6 |
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Lilith took the spider slowly, almost reverentially, and inclined her head.as her hand closed around it. "He IS a fool. He thinks he can play the world like a game of chess; thinks he's the king. I want him to see what happens when he meets a queen." Her grim smile showed off her sharp teeth as she turned gracefully, her dress billowing behind her. Her feet barely touched the ground as she disappeared into the surging crowd of drow, but her soft laughter remained in the air several moments after she was gone. She stepped into an alleyway, and a set of shadows pulled away from the corrosponding wall, holding out a hand. "What did you get me, dear?" ========== The Blooding was set to begin, and the door to the chapel opened, with Lilith walking in the lead, a curious smile adorning her face as a tall, pale man walked in behind her, looking at the twin spiders he held in his hand. His voice came out as a soft murmur, sounding almost subdued. "Lilith said you'd kill me if I didn't watch my manners." "As well they should. If you can't watch your tongue, you've no right to keep it." She rose her gaze to Umae, and smiled evilly. "He's here to participate in the Blooding. He wants to 'negotiate', he's going to earn the right. The man's head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise and fear. "What was that? Don't I at least get a weapon?" |
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| Umae'lara | Thu Dec 10, 2009 10:49 pm Post #7 |
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After the strange woman left the chapel, Umae pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair, “I do not trust this one.” She turned to her weapons master; he was toying with his cloak, looking for a way to cinch it without his broach. He looked up slowly when the silence begged a response and shrugged. “Since when have you trusted anyone, my priestess?” Xuntyrr stated this so matter-of-factly that Umae’lara snorted like a piglet. * * * She woke early on the day of the Blooding, bathed, and dressed in her finest. Sinewy purple leather worked its way down her body in tight straps, laced into panels of supple suede accented with tiny crystal beads. Over this she wore her cloak, the double-thoraxed insignia sewn into the sweeping black cloth like glowworms and sealed it with a smile. Her attendees had been sent away and she hurried through House Melduis’ cavernous hallways with the acumen of an executioner. A handful of bickering priestesses met her at the gates to head to Lith My’athar. Once removed of the anxious young ones, Umae met with Xuntyrr and two high priestesses, cousins, outside the chapel. The females knew nothing of the outsider and her ‘friend’, though Umae had already prepared a series of lies if they had the audacity to ask. The event would go off without a hitch. There was no other option. Melduis’ first daughter would make sure of it and her subordinates knew the consequences of failure. Needless to say, everyone was on their best behavior as the service in the chapel began. The ceremony was largely ignored by Umae and her posse, who were more steadily overseeing the arming and revving of the prey. As the young ones were being led away to the deeper tunnels and the eight unlucky warriors were dragged to waiting cages, the door of the chapel swung open. Here entered the strange woman, and behind her, a pale male. It held her House's prided crest in its hand and its lips moved as if it was speaking, but Umae could not hear what came out of its mouth over the shock. When the woman spoke, the Drow realized her own mouth was hanging open and she snapped it shut, buttoning it to a frown. Then though, to her horror, it spoke again and her skin went gray. But then, as sudden as a bolt of lightning, she laughed. “Participate in the Blooding?” She spat, “To become a Drow?” She sounded genuinely curious before launching into another fit of hysterics. It passed quickly as she dabbed at her cheeks with the pads of her fingers, her expression quickening like carved obsidian. “Or you want to fight a Drow, huh? Kill a Drow maybe?” There was hatred swimming in the liquid amethyst of her eyes as she passed her gaze to the woman. “This is not basking in my majesty! This is trying my patience! When was participating part of the deal? You’re lucky we don’t gut you or some other silly surface mutilation!” She stomped her foot and rolled her tongue along the fronts of her teeth, waving her hand encouragingly, “So begin your negotiations.” |
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Thu Dec 10, 2009 11:26 pm Post #8 |
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Lilith raised an eyebrow, and her voice was a cool, inscrutable hiss. "Become a drow? No, no, I wouldn't wish this idiot on anyone. But my friend always has to be on top, always needs to be in control. I want him to see just how insignificant he is; perhaps after he takes a true drow in combat, he'll have some manners." She stepped forward, and her gaze was a surprising mix of reptilian intellect and undeniable respect. "You will HAVE your 'surface mutilation' soon enough. I know you drow love combat, and I daresay you'd enjoy a good chance to see a surface dweller VOLUNTEER to be ripped to shreds." She walked within several steps of Umae'lara, and knelt on the cold floor. "I mean no disrespect. I simply felt this may help our dear friend gain some understanding of what a true drow is like...and to learn how he hung himself coming down here." She waved the pale figure forward, and he seemed to glide towards Umae. While Lilith seemed to hold her respect, Yaksha's faint smile seemed to say that her death was a forgone conclusion, and her survival was from the kindness of his heart. He had gained his composure now, his eyes flitting around the room to take everything in. "I suppose I've no choice but to participate. Gut me if you like; I imagine the result would be the same as if I took part in your Blooding, except that I wouldn't even have a semblance of a fair chance." |
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| Umae'lara | Fri Dec 11, 2009 3:44 pm Post #9 |
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Umae patted the strange woman on the elbow as she knelt, perhaps to stop her prostrations, perhaps to commend her manners. It was impossible to tell for the Drow’s expression remained blank. With a slow turn of her head, and a pronounced clearing of her throat, Umae’lara addressed the pale male. “The blooding is not a place to show off your skills, male. And while the prowess of my people is unmatched, I cannot allow you to attempt to harm children…for that is what they are.” The priestess moved in a slow circle around the male, drinking in the details; the shape of his face, the color of his hair, the ridiculous smile that spilt across his lips. Umae noticed how clean he was, the scent of crushed jasmine seeming to ooze from his pores. Still, the priestess’s expression did not change. “Yet,” she stopped her pacing and placed her hands on her narrow hips, “if it’s a fight you want, you will find I can be most accommodating.” At the last of her words, the cages of surface warriors were placed on liters and rolled out the back of the chapel by sallow faced slaves. Umae watched them go, enthusiasm fading. The gaggle of young ones, eight female highborn fresh from graduation, no doubt stalked the deep tunnels like a swarm of hornets. Melduis’ first daughter knew they were already weaving their webs of arcane, setting snares and devious traps for the starved warriors. When the sound of metal scraping on stone ended, Umae spoke once again, “I am wary of anything that volunteers for death. If I am standing in the midst of a ruse, the consequences will be great.” For all of us. Umae’s two senior priestesses and Xuntyrr gave Umae a sharp look as they prepared to follow he caravan of cages to the battlegrounds. Umae waved them away, leaving the strange woman, surface male and herself as the sole occupants of the chapel. The Drow’s pretty eyes narrowed into ugly slits, “I will give you my weapons master to fight, male. He has run his course and I grow tired of his disobedience- grown too big for his beaches- as your surface folk say.” Now she did smile, smugly, “Kill him and you will be an ally of House Melduis. Fail and-” She shrugged and turned, walking out of the chapel to follow the cages of damned men into the tunnels. She caught up with her priestesses and weapons master, whispered something in Xuntyrr’s ear and waited for her strange surface guests to join the precession. |
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Fri Dec 11, 2009 5:07 pm Post #10 |
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Yaksha cocked his head, and peered around the room derisively. "I don't imagine I'll have much to choose from, in the way of weapons...no matter. I have my own." He held out a hand, and ran a hand over thin air, where surprisingly enough, a dark red blade appeared in his hand. The atmosphere of the room grew dark, almost oppressive, and the scent of blood began to fill the air. "I call this beauty Azrael. Give your weapons master the greatest weapon he has at his disposal; I relish a challenge." He turned to Xuntyrr and bowed deeply, the blade pressing against the cold stone and causing it to crack just slightly. His words came out as a hissing chuckle, and when he looked up, all traces of fear or subservience were gone, replaced with a bone-chilling serenity; indeed, the eyes had even turned into yellow slits, more like cats' eyes than any human's. "Be easy on me, weapons master. I'm not a noble drow, like you are." He approached the drow slowly, his entire body swaying slightly like a snake's, making his sinuous steps towards Xuntyrr and twirling his blade slowly, the frozen rictus on his face enough to cause all but the most seasoned warriors to turn tail and run for cover. "Then again, who knows what exactly I AM..." His deep chuckle filled the air as he grew closer, the sound of his blade slicing through air almost turning into a soft susurrus. "Azrael's hungry for blood, weapons master..." |
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| Umae'lara | Fri Dec 11, 2009 8:46 pm Post #11 |
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The weapon’s master gave a nearly imperceptible nod to his mistress, rolling his heavy lidded eyes to his opponent. He appraised Yaksha with contempt, the end of his dark lip curled upward in the mockery of a smile, a snarl unfurling. Xuntyrr paused in his judgment to lower his hands to the hilts at his slender hips and without the forced ennui of shared respect, drew steel. The heavy bellied blades glinted malevolently, vulgarly violent, aspirating their efficiency, their edge and their thirst for blood. The Drow simply turned his wrists to roll the blades in his hands and kept his muted crimson eyes hovering on Yaksha’s face. With his thumb Xuntyrr errantly flicked away the replacement clasp on his cloak, letting the fabric fall around him as he stepped forward, squared and readied. As Yaksha spoke, Xuntyrr set the ridges of his calluses against the simple, worn leather that bound the hilts of his scimitars. Their weight was like an old friend and the wiry muscles in his bare arms grew hot from the anticipation of movement. There was no need for words; the pale thing had laid his bravado behind his blade and the weapons master showed his reply by take two, slow steps forward. He trained his gaze on the man’s yellow eyes and sprang forward without warning or hesitation. One scimitar swung out in front of him to meet the pale thing’s virulent weapon, while the other, coming up from beneath Yaksha’s guard, was aimed at his heart and a swift end to the fight. |
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Fri Dec 11, 2009 10:50 pm Post #12 |
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Yaksha laughed softly, swiping at the drow's weapon and twisting to the side, so his second scimitar sliced across his chest without striking any major organs. Blood oozed forth lazily, and the lich reached down slowly, looking at it with shock. "Is this the power of a drow? Are you all trained as well as this?" His words came out with dull surprise, and he finally looked up with a resigned grimace. "Y-you're not what I expected at all. I didn't think the fight would go like this." He looked around frantically, holding the blade in front of him with a trembling hand. "Are you sure we should continue? It's clear who's going to win..." Lilith sidled closer to Umae'lara, her smile one of pleasure and victory. "It looks like these two are pretty well matched. My own boy...he's really more of a thinker than a fighter, by his own admission. Then again, how much good is thought down here if you can't back it up with the strength?" She leaned close, her breath tickling the priestess's earlobe as she spoke. "Perhaps you'd like a wager of some sort? Nothing too serious, I'd never make you risk anything important on this sort of thing. But everything is more fun if there's something to be lost." |
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| Umae'lara | Sun Dec 13, 2009 12:11 am Post #13 |
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“You make a lot of sense,” Umae purred at the woman as she held up a hand to Xuntyrr; the weapons master had a scimitar held high above his head, poised to strike. Slowly he lowered it, brought its twin around as well, and stepped back from the bleeding male. “What could you possibly offer me though?” Her words were said very quickly, begging one to believe it was an honest question. “On the other hand, I wonder if I possess anything that would suit a surface dweller’s tastes.” Umae tweeted sweetly, veiled contempt warm and odious. She swung her eyes to Lilith, her jaw soberly set, “Perhaps you’d be willing to part with your own freedom, eh pretty one?” The priestess licked her lips and threw her cloak over her shoulder, “Wouldn’t you be a living trinket of Melduis’ favor with the spider queen?” She raised a single white eyebrow and shrugged. “I understand if that’s too steep a wager for you though. Your boy doesn’t look like he can even hold that sword of his!” She shook her head, chuckling sadly, “There is no honor is this type of slaughter. If he wants to commit suicide, he can fall on his own sword.” |
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Sun Dec 13, 2009 10:33 pm Post #14 |
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Lilith paused for a second, and it was clear she was gauging the two competitors. "You ask for my freedom? You ask for me to become a slave to your family, if my friend is to lose...? Such audacity, and such confidence...just like the drow I've heard so much about. I suppose if we're going to make wagers, it may as well be all or nothing. But...what could a drow priestess like yourself be willing to sacrifice? Perhaps something simple. If my friend is to defeat your weapons master, then we will determine the conditions of our meeting; where it is held, when, who you may bring with you. Anything relevant to our negotiations. After all..." Her finger ran down the drow's shoulder slowly, and her voice was a taunting hiss. "A proud drow like you would never allow themselves to wager on equal terms with the competition, now would they?" Her dry laughter filled Umae'lara's ear, before she turned back to the battle, where Yaksha was running a hand over his chest wound, murmuring slowly. Finally he looked up, and gave a shaky smile, giving off an aura of fear and concern. "If we're making bets, we should both be at our peak, y'know? I can't afford to let anyone I care about but me suffer from all this, and it'd suck if I lost because I wasn't taking this seriously..." He shuddered, before running a hand through his hair. "I don't like fighting, but I guess there's no helping it..." |
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| Umae'lara | Sun Dec 20, 2009 8:40 pm Post #15 |
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The priestess shivered at Lilith’s touch, not an unpleasant sensation, and smiled drunkenly, sloppily appraising the female’s proposal. “Proud as I am,” Umae hissed, “I rather like your offer. Yes.” She nodded firmly, not a single strand of snowy hair falling out of place from the tight braid coiled at the crown of her head. “If your male wins, then you may set the terms to our next meeting. But beyond that there are no guarantees.” The Drow’s voice took on a breathy quality, dreamy like roused sympathy. Still, Xuntyrr stood in front of Yaksha, scimitars crossed in an X, tips planted in the gravel. The weapons master had not taken his eyes off the man; the corner of his lip remained curled as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. He breathed slowly as his knuckles grew ashy from the grip on his blades, waiting. Umae though, was animated. The blooding was such a mundane business that the appearance of Lilith and Yaksha had actually lifted her spirits. If only momentarily. The male’s mewing made her uncomfortable and she rebuked such weakness by flashing Xuntyrr a winning smile and a nod. The Drow then turned her attention back to Lilith, delicate features setting like stone. “Perhaps though, your male should just give up. There is no shame in surrender.” Umae licked her lips, eyes like poison ichor. “Though no doubt his life is worthless to you, but if he dies, how would you bring his corpse to the surface without getting blood on your dress?” It seemed like a legitimate concern as she spoke it, but it was iced with foppish indifference. “But the deal has been made. Let no one say differently.” Umae stepped forward, tearing her gaze away from Lilith, trailing a smirk. “Then again, no one ever said anything about this having to be a fair fight now did we?” With that, the priestess let both of her hands fall to her sides, palms flat, fingers splayed. She furrowed her brow before her eyes slipped shut for just a moment. The scent of ozone coupled with fresh rot lingered in the musty cavern air. The ground rumbled, sounding like deep snoring, and from the pitted gravel emerged two very dead corpses. The zombies were Drow; though their skin sloughed off to reveal the white of bone, their remaining features were unmistakable. “There now.” Umae said thoughtfully as the zombies flanked Xuntyrr, milky eyes in lolling heads facing Yaksha. “Odds are in my favor, woman. Still wish to proceed?” |
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6:07 PM May 23
