StarDestroyer.Net BBS

"Daughter mine, I am not pleased by what I have been hearing," Shaharith rasped. "Not at all. You will . . . explain yourself to my satisfaction." Dread Queen Shaharith leaned back into her throne. The human leather cushions conformed to her lithe form, which didn't look a day over two hundred. Eight adamantine legs connected the back of the throne to a spiderweb design of polished silver that covered the entire back wall.

Shaharith Desanna herself was a stern, classic beauty. Ebony skin, silver hair, and blazing red eyes set within a cold, regal face. Her athletic body was clad in a mesh of enchanted mithril that left little to the imagination. A delicate crown of ruby and platinum rested on her head. A score of red carpeted steps, broken mid way through by a terrace with four minotaur bodyguards, lead up to her dais. A pair of consorts wearing adamantine mail and bearing twin swords flanked her throne.

"Majesty, divine arm of Lolth, I have no idea what lies my sisters might have poured into your ears. I have done nothing to disgrace myself," replied Elvarra. She was wearing a modest amount of entirely enchanted jewelery and a silver gown that many would describe as "immodest" if they were trying to be polite.

"Lies," sneered Tasseen. Elvarra's half sister was half a head taller and muscular. She disdained finery for enchanted plate and a spell worked mace with a head in the shape of a clenched fist. "She whores herself to a male. She crawls to him and begs him to favor her. She disgraces us all and brings the taint of weakness to all her kin."

"My sister," said Elvarra, "is jealous that I am in the company of powerful and useful males and that I have learned secrets she can't hope to comprehend." She turned as she walked, addressing the entire room. Sisters, aunts, and cousins were joined by brothers, uncles, and valued retainers. She had been ambushed by a prearranged inquisition with the intended result of her humiliation and disgrace, but a public forum was a weapon she could wield as well. "Is her spite and weakness really cause enough to disturb our mother? What kind of heir will she make?"

"She submits to a male!" Tasseen shrieked. "A princess of Desanna is a male's servant and plaything! If she was strong she would take what she needs! Instead she grovels before him and whores herself to him! Who can respect a house when its daughters pimp themselves to houseless males?"

"Enough," said Shaharith. "Elvarra, answer me. Who is master, you or this male?"

A tremor ran through Elvarra's body. She knew that her mother employed a spell that made it impossible to lie to her. She licked her lips. "He has lost knowledge. I am his student and he is my teacher."

"What a pretty way of saying it," sneered Tasseen. Exandra nodded in agreement. Exandra was shorter and slimmer than her half sisters, but what she lacked in muscle and magical talent she more than made up for in intrigue.

"My sister does not deny she whores herself to this male," said Exandra with exaggerated sloth. " This house breaking, Lolth defying male. Instead of breaking him and sacrificing him, she kneels before him. How can such a being not disgrace Lolth's Queen, especially with all the gifts Lolth has seen fit to grant her? Put her on the altar. If you see fit to spare her life, then bind her there so she may bear a draegoloth child. Submitting to a demon would seem to suit her." Laughter, cold and cruel, filled the throne room.

"My daughter," said the Dread Queen. "Who rules the bed?"

Elvarra shook with a terrible fury at her humiliation. I'll kill you all for this, she promised silently. She said nothing.

"She does not deny it," crowed Tasseen. "Send her to the altar!"

"I am mistress here," growled Shaharith. "I decree the fates of my daughters. Until you sit on this throne, mind your place."

Tasseen bowed low in false humility. She couldn't keep the smile off her lips. Her sister would be finished as a rival to inherit their mother's throne, or at least severely set back. It was a good day.

"You have a choice on how you may expiate your crime, my daughter," rasped Shaharith. "You may either destroy this male or you may go before the altar and receive Lolth's judgment now."

Elvarra licked her lips. Her throat was as dry as the plains of Avernus. The doors to the throne room burst open, saving her momentarily. A figure wrapped in a robe of black velvet walked into the room. It was perhaps six feet tall and wore black silk gloves over its hands. A silver mask with an androgynous face with an exaggerated chin and nose covered its face. A voice half way between a purr and a susurrous emanated from the hood. "Please, forgive the intrusion, but my business is urgent."

"Kill the intruder!" shouted Tasseen. A dozen warriors with swords, axes, and maces rushed the robed being. A spell shouted out and a dome of force surrounded him. Blades and warriors bounced off.

"In three weeks, everyone in this hall will be dead," the being said, its voice filling the room. "This is not speculation or a threat. This is history."

"You would try to fool us with this trick?" barked Exandra.

"Have your mages look at me and tell you themselves," it replied.

"I do not need a male for that," said the Dread Queen. "I see the spells around you. You have projected yourself through time. There are consequences to what you have done."

"Indeed," said the robed being. "I wouldn't be here if there were not. I am shielded, to a certain extent, from paradox."

"The brass lantern on your belt," said the Dread Queen. "It is a thing of gears and sorcery. It is your shield against paradox."

"You see much," said the robed figure. "It has its limitations. I cannot directly change my own past. That much cannot be done. But if my enemy is undone before he can kill me, that is another matter entirely."

"And you think we will do this thing for you," sneered Shaharith.

"Well, he kills you first," said the robed being. "Of course, I can help you with that."

"It's a trick," said Exandra.

"Yes," said the robed being. "It is a very clever trick." A gloved hand reached up and removed the mask. Half the room recoiled in horror. It then replaced the mask. "As you can see, I have incentive to change the past. Our defeat was catastrophic, but enough of me survived to engineer our enemy's death. I can arm you against him and allow you to triumph."

"What about the inevitables?" asked Shaharith.

"My problem and yes, even with this artifact," it paused to tap the brass mechanism hanging from its belt, "they will hound me. They are, however, my problem. Not yours. Your problem is surviving the next three weeks."

"This enemy that destroys us," said Tasseen. "Name her."

"Why the one you are discussing right now," said the robed being. "Nalifan D'Azurentien."

It was perhaps six feet tall and wore black silk gloves over its hands. A silver mask with an androgynous face with an exaggerated chin and nose covered its face. A voice half way between a purr and a susurrous emanated from the hood. "Please, forgive the intrusion, but my business is urgent."

I can't believe I just got the reference... V for Vendetta. *Whaps ImpO for the bad pun*

So, is the figure Imizael? One of the Daughters of the Dread Queen?

LadyTevar wrote:
I can't believe I just got the reference... V for Vendetta. *Whaps ImpO for the bad pun*

It's actually not a V for Vendetta reference, although there are similarities. Parallel creation or influenced by it, take your pick.

So, is the figure Imizael? One of the Daughters of the Dread Queen?

The title of the story refers to the mystery of the figure's identity and you think I'm going to give it away in a commentary post right after the first installment? Madness.

If Elvarra is stronger than Nalifan, I would assume her mother is even more powerful? If so, then I would be very interested on how Nalifan managed to kill them all. I am even more interested on the reason why he'd do it especially why kill Elvarra. Unless Elvarra is the robed figure and during her time with Nalifan she decided to betray him?

My dear Impy... the way you have the Robed Figure talking, it's almost like it's Nalifan himself.

Enigma wrote:If Elvarra is stronger than Nalifan, I would assume her mother is even more powerful? If so, then I would be very interested on how Nalifan managed to kill them all. I am even more interested on the reason why he'd do it especially why kill Elvarra.

Elvarra is a freakishly powerful sorceress. The Dread Queen is a priestess of Lolth, not a sorceress. As for reasons for Nalifan to do it, the fact that all of House Desanna has decided to kill him would do it. As for what Nalifan can manage, well he isn't alone. Trizkel's recored against drow matriarchs is quite enviable.

"So that is why you have violated my throne room," said Shaharith. "If you're telling the truth."

"Ah yes. A reasonable suspicion. You will undoubtedly have to consider the possibility that I am trying to manipulate you for my own gain and that my claims are a clever web of lies. Please do so. As you do so, please keep two things in mind. One, you decided to kill D'Azurentien before I arrived. I don't need to be here to have you do that. The second is I can't act against anyone directly without jeopardizing my own existence."

"And if you are here to make sure we fail?" asked Elvarra. "To undermine and sabotage us? Say to ensure the destruction of this house before it devourers yours?"

"A possibility you should consider," said the abomination, with its voice of a thousand hisses. "You should keep in mind that warning D'Azurentien so he can take the first strike, say a week ago, would be far, far more effective than trying to convince you to use bad tactics. I will speak with you latter. Your guards may escort me to wherever you keep honoured guests."

The robed being turned and walked out of the throne room. "Dread Queen-" began Tasseen.

"Escort it to the guest quarters and reseal the room," Shaharith ordered. She turned to one of the males standing at the base of the stairs. "Magister Rezafyn, speak."

"Dread Queen," the purple robed male spoke as he bowed. Rezafyn was short and slighty, his face marked with crow's feet and smile lines. His white hair was thinning. "How may I serve?"

"Chronomancy is an exotic art. How plausible is his story?"

The magister considered for a moment. "Superficially, it fits. Time travel is a most uncommon, but not unheard of magic. To use it to attempt to alter the past in any significant way invites the attentions of inevitables, constructs which attempt to maintain the order of the multiverse. Having a device to help deal with the paradox and avoiding directly affecting one's own past would minimize the chance of their interference." He stroked his chin.

"In effecting changes upon the timeline, the immediate past before the desired events occur is the best place for intervention. The farther back one goes the greater the number of unforeseen and unpredictable changes. If the walker's progenitor was killed shortly after our house fell, then yes, this would be the ideal time to intervene."

The Dread Queen nodded. "You will consider alternate possibilities and bring them to me. All of you are dismissed. Except Elvarra."

All the drow slowly filed out of the Dread Queen's throne room save for her troublesome daughter. The minotaurs guarding the throne stayed. The heavy doors closed behind the last male to leave. "What now mother?" Elvarra asked. "Any more heavy handed threats to make?"

"I will not tolerate your insolence," growled Shaharith. "Lolth may have seen fit to grant you the powers of a sorceress, but you are blind to the realities of this house. Without Lolth we are doomed."

"We seemed to have survived her Silence intact."

"Of course we did, little fool. Every other house was crippled as well and we had other resources to draw upon. The Silence was not without consequences. Priestesses died or turned their coats. The males now look upon us for signs of weakness. Lolth is stronger, but her rule is frailer. For the moment.

"D'Azurentien turned his back on Lolth and is unpunished. He is strong, very strong. He has extensive contacts with the wizard lords of Sshameth and elsewhere. Lolth's hand is light in Sshameth. If the wizard lords turn away from her, they will succeed. This will weaken her and others might try. I am one of her mightiest priestesses. Lolth has given me much. She demands much in return."

"This has nothing to do with me at all then."

"Of course it does, little fool. You're aggravating the situation."

"Lolth already wanted his blood."

"Yes, and you've made it worse. I will not tolerate any defiance from you, not on this matter. You will obey loyally or I will gut you on the altar. Do you hear me?"

"Yes mother."

"Good. Do your part well enough and you will regain much of what you have lost in terms of influence."

"You're promising if that I'm a good girl I'll have a chance of succeeding you?" Elvarra sneered. "As if you're planning on dying any time soon."

"The longer I live, the more time you have to rebuild your position. Your alternative is death."

"I hear and obey."

"Good."

"We don't know enough about our guest or his true nature."

"I agree," said the Dread Queen, "but we were committed already and if any of what he said is true, we might need him. Come up with a good plan to kill Nalifan, without involving that corpse feeder. Then bring it to me."

"Your will, Dread Queen."

Well... at least Nalifan is expecting something like this from her. I think he was hurt so bad by Kaeryn's betrayal because he didn't expect it from her.

LadyTevar wrote:Well... at least Nalifan is expecting something like this from her. I think he was hurt so bad by Kaeryn's betrayal because he didn't expect it from her.

*sigh*. No, Kaeryn's decision didn't come as a surprise. It was and remains the nature of her decision that causes the rift and why it can never be repaired. The betrayal was, to him, a fundamental and unforgivable one. Choosing strangers over friends and allies is intolerable. It's even encoded in the rules of the adventuring group. The rules of the group, as a reminder, are as follows:

Priorities for an expedition:

1) Everyone comes back

2) Success in our endeavour.

3) Profit

But they *were* allies at that point....

LadyTevar wrote:But they *were* allies at that point....

That's why its a betrayal when she chooses other people over him. If they weren't allies, it wouldn't have been a betrayal.

Imperial Overlord wrote:

LadyTevar wrote:But they *were* allies at that point....

That's why its a betrayal when she chooses other people over him. If they weren't allies, it wouldn't have been a betrayal.

I meant Gaheris was an ally at that time.

LadyTevar wrote: I meant Gaheris was an ally at that time.

Maybe to Kaeryn, not to Nalifan. He was in an outer group, at best. Not an inner group.

To be clear, I go with the theory that drow generally have concentric circles of loyalty.

herself->faction-> organization (house, church, guild, etcetera)->city state->race->racial allies->everybody else. The center trumps the outer region, meaning personal interests are worth selling anybody out for if the price is high enough and the guarantees are good enough. Keep in mind they're long lived, so they're not inclined to do stupid stuff that alienates their closer allies just to get a little ahead.

Shaharith, Dread Queen of House Desanna, tapped lightly on the table of silver veined black marble as her most troublesome daughter entered the council chamber. The senior members of House Desanna and her most valued retainers were clustered around the table. Helmed horrors, nightmarish constructs of spiked adamantine armour, stood at the doors ready to slay as she commanded.

"So daughter," said Shaharith coolly, "you have come up with a plan."

"Dread Queen, I have."

"You left the city."

"To do otherwise would have caused my absence to be remarked upon."

"Why didn't you bury a blade into Nalifan's skull instead of fucking him?" Tasseen asked. "Or is murder beyond your competency."

"I grow tired of your foolishness and stupidity sister," replied Elvarra. "Perhaps I should rid our house of you before you orchestrate a disaster from which there is no recovery."

Exandra tittered at her sisters' exchange. "You should hardly talk about disasters," said Exandra, delighted to score points of both of her sisters.

"Our mother has explained to me that Nalifan was marked for death before I moved to take his sisters. It's quite interesting that she regards you as too stupid to take into her confidence. I have a way in through his defences and can ensure that the blow will not be turned. Can you say as much sister?"

"Enough," said Shaharith softly. "Elvarra, present your plan."

"It is simple enough. In two days Nalifan will be in Selgaunt, calling on his tailor. We place eyes on the place and ambush and kill him while he's busy changing. He'll be comparatively easy prey, alone, and outside of his manse's defences."

"I don't see how this works better than you blasting him with a spell or burying a knife in his brain," sneered Tasseen. "Have you gone soft sister?"

"Nalifan has a very clever watcher spell active that follows me whenever I am nearby. I could get a surprise attack off and that might even kill him before he could retaliate, but it will trigger his defences and alert his allies. I can hardly soul catch him while fighting for my life and I'll only have moments to do it because his soul will flee. To any one of a number of clone bodies he has prepared and stashed around the Realms. Fool."

"It seems you have chosen a path that avoids direct confrontation my daughter."

"Necessary, Dread Queen. There is a task I must perform. Nalifan's allies will know when he perishes and seek to retrieve his soul if it is caught. Also, there is no guarantee that soul catching will be able to performed before his soul flees to a clone, which will mean failure. I can rectify that."

"Continue," said Shaharith.

"While the assassination team deals with Nalifan, I will break into the basement vault where one of his clones is stored. The Laws of Sympathy and Contagion allow me to launch a magical attack there upon all the clone bodies, allowing me to destroy them all in one swoop."

"You would need immensely powerful magic to attempt that," said Rezafyn. The house's senior wizard stared intently at Elvarra.

"Yes," she agreed. "Magister Rezafyn will kindly surrender that Wish scroll he's been hoarding to me so I may execute my part of the plan.

"Do you have any idea that investment of-" he began angrily.

"Silence," commanded Shaharith. "You will do as my daughter suggests."

"Your will," said Rezafyn bitterly.

"Kayden."

A stocky male at the opposite end of the web patterned table inclined his head. He had charcoal skin and stocky and plain looking by drow standards. He wore black silks and leather, drab garb compared to the jewels and splashes of brilliant colours present in the garb of nobles and senior retainers around him. "Majesty."

"Assemble a kill team and execute the kill. You are in command. Draft whoever you like. You carry my word in this."

"It shall be as you command Majesty."

"What about the thing in the guest quarters?" asked Elvarra.

"I don't trust it and have no intention of calling upon its aid unless I must," replied Shaharith. "So don't fail me and put me in that position. Kill the male and let's be done with it."

"We'll have to kill Nalifan's allies as well," replied Elvarra. "They are almost as dangerous as he is. One of them is even drow."

"He is the only one that can bring himself back from the other side of death. The others will be easy enough, especially without his leadership and magic. Nalifan must die. Now leave me."

Nal was foolish to let her know about the clones. But now we get to see how her little plan will fall apart.

"Magister," Elvarra called out to the departing magus. "I would have words with you." Other drow quickly passed them, in no way eager to spend any time around high ranking drow who had suffered reverses and might be looking for an excuse to lethally vent some of their spite.

"It seems you would have more than that from me," Rezafyn said stiffly.

"Necessary," she said. "One does not employ half measures against D'Azurentien."

"As you say. Is there anything else, aside from one of my greatest treasures, that you want from me?"

"Yes," she said pointing to a staircase that lead to her tower. "Your advice."

"I am afraid you are in not such favor that you can command my services. Nor are you likely to be."

"If anyone of us survives this mess, it will be my beloved mother. She's not going to die soon. There's a lot of time for things to change."

"There is truth in what you say, but priestesses distrust you. You have avoided them, choosing to blaze your own path. They will never name you queen."

"Perhaps you are right. On the other hand, people can die horribly at any moment. Lots of people. Say at my hand."

Rezafyn turned towards the stairs. "There is value in life," he said as he began to climb. "What would you have of me?"

"Which one of my sisters have you signed up with?"

"None of them. Your mother commands my allegiance. She is likely to outlive you all and the victor of whatever power struggle occurs to succeed her will need my help to cement her power."

"Wise," said Elvarra. "If my plan fails we may need to consult our guest. We don't know enough about him."

"If our guest spoke truly, the plan will fail. Without its intervention, House Desanna falls. Of course, that's if it isn't lying to set us up for destruction by another house."

"Which is why my beloved mother wishes the first attack to succeed and to be entirely without his involvement. If it fails, then we can consider consulting that thing. I need to understand its motivations better."

"Who can say? It conceals much from us, but that is to be expected. It doesn't want to survive Nalifan only to be killed by us."

"It wants to prevent the death of its progenitor, correct? It is essentially preventing its own birth. That's a lot of effort to go through to commit suicide."

"True. On the other hand, it carries much of its progenitor's mind at the time of death. It isn't the same being, but the death trauma marks it. It also has memories of life in a living, humanoid body not the disgusting abomination it has become. Identity confusion would be somewhat normal in this situation."

"You're saying that it might believe itself to be the same being as the progenitor?"

"Its mind and memories are all that survives of its progenitor. Of course, it could be all a smokescreen. I've said as much to the Dread Queen."

"That will serve. You may go."

Rezafyn inclined his head. "Thank you."

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Gilded doors swung open to admit Elvarra Desanna to the guest quarters. The room was conical, the ceiling tapering to a point twenty five feet above in keeping with the egg sack design of the space. A leather couch for reclining was near the center of the space and a dark red screen concealed the bathing area. "Is everything to your satisfaction."

"Yes," hissed monstrous creature as it rose from the couch.

"I need some kind of name to call you."

"Will Wither serve?" It replied in a voice of a thousand whispers.

"Yes," she answered.

"Have you finished planning your assassination yet?" it asked.

"Don't you already know?"

"Not the details. There wasn't anything left of your house to deliver those secrets to me. After you fail, you will come to me for aid. Your mother will realize how badly you need it after you suffer those losses."

"Perhaps we should change the plan. Or delay the strike. That will change history."

"Perhaps you did." Wither shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You took your best shot and failed. You will do so again. You could delay, hope that events will change, but all you will do is sacrifice surprise. He will know, sooner or later. There are many that sell information to him. That he has been marked by a faction of the priesthood for death and House Desanna is part of that faction will reach his ears soon enough. Then you will have nothing. Nothing but me."

"You don't care?"

"I care. But you lost without me and you will lose without me again. I merely wish to get these preliminaries over with and done. I have the tools that will allow you to win, but you will not make use of them until the tide turns against you. So I have to wait for you to fail and bleed and die and then, only then, will you listen."

"And then you will be obliterated."

"How I long for that," Wither hissed. "This disgusting shell is powerful, but it isn't living. It is better than death, but to not die in the first place is better."

"You aren't the same-"

"Silence!" roared a thousand distance shouts. "I remember all! I am all that I was, but locked in this disgusting mass! I remember the sun on my skin, the taste of wine on my lips, a lover's embrace! And now, look at this!" Wither reached up, a bracer of adamantine and sapphire glinting on its wrist, and tore off its mask; revealing a mass of writhing worms. "This is not a fate fit for a human! This is only an instrument of my will! And I . . . WILL . . . NOT . . . . DIE!"

Elvarra flinched back from the display, her hands held high.

"You are fortunate that you are one of the more useful pieces in this game. I can't afford to damage you . . . . beyond the point of repair." Wither pointed at her. "Keep that and hold your insolent and ignorant tongue. You are not the only pawn on the board."

Elvarra's eyes were focused on the bracer on Wither's right arm.. "Weavebinder."

"And Spellbreaker," said Wither, holding up the other wrist and the bracer of adamantine and star rubies. A hissing cackle came from Wither's body. "I took them from his body, well bones really. I know his instruments and their capabilities intimately. He has no secrets from me. I know his strengths and weakness. He cannot survive what I have in store from him. Now leave me. Send in a slave you do not have any use for. I hunger."

Something is seriously wrong here.

LadyTevar wrote:Something is seriously wrong here.

Possibly, but I am assuming that the second time around Nal will come out on top without dying? As for the worms, I remember Nal and co. fighting them before?

Elvarra walked down the steps leading to the basement and vaults beneath Nalifan's manse. There were storage rooms down here for more conventional goods such as food and furniture, but they didn't matter. She was not interested in the nearly unbreachable treasure vault or the gate to the Elemental Plane of Fire which kept the house heated.

She walked across the room and down a short corridor. A lead door, marked with glyphs and symbols stood at the far end. Spells that could melt iron or blast a hole in a castle wall would barely mar the exterior of this chamber. Inside was a treasure more valuable than gold or platinum. Life.

Nalifan hadn't shared the secret of the vault with her, but he wasn't the only one who knew. His servants had been reticent, but she had been able to glean clues and fragments of information. That his major domo, Laerasis, was not immune to her charms didn't hurt either.

She stopped and stared. She didn't know for sure that Nalifan kept stasis cocooned clones behind this door, even if everything pointed to it. It was well shielded, but not beyond her ability to breach. She could do it.

He would know instantly, of course. If she took this step, she was committed irrevocably to his destruction. She raised her hand.

She had to wait for the signal, to avoid alerting him of the attempt on his life. The agony of waiting where fear ate at your vitals while outside forces determine if you live or die. The attack was doomed, said the Worm That Walks. Why was she even here?

She took a deep breath to steady herself. She had already betrayed him. If he lived, he would know who had set him up. There was no going back.

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"Master Nalifan," said the balding human as the arch-necromancer entered his shop. "A pleasure, as always."

"The pleasure is mine," said Nalifan. "Your skills are magnificent." It was good to be inside and away from the sun. He had somewhat adjusted to it and sorcery and dark lenses took care of the rest, but he still didn't like it. It was just wrong.

Talwyn's shop was hung with costly fabrics and lined with dummies wearing clothes of his design. He catered to the rich and did very well for himself. Talwyn gestured to two young men, who went scurrying off. "If you will follow me to the back, you can try on the clothes and we can prepare for any corrections."

Nalifan smiled as he followed the diminutive man to a screened off section of the back. "You mean to say if all that soft living hasn't added to my girth."

"For some gentlemen it is a struggle and some of them, alas, fail to triumph."

Nalifan chortled as he passed behind the screen. "I may have to steal that," he said. "I don't say that often."

"A gentleman without witty repartee is both naked and unarmed," replied the tailor as Nalifan unbuckled his belt and shed his robe. The black leather vest marked with golden runes went next and then the shirt of crimson silk.

"I dare say you have not been losing that battle," said the tailor

"I've been keeping active," Nalifan. Talwyn helped him with the boots.

"A woman sir?"

"Got it in one."

"A gentleman's tailor develops a certain sensitivity to these matters."

"I'm sure," said Nalifan as Talwyn handed him a pair of pants. That's when a pair of drow leapt through the wall at him. They were males, shrouded in dark clothes, and armed with adamantine daggers that dripped a fiery orange liquid.

They were fast, they had the advantage of total surprise and they knew their business. Nalifan jerked back, but they were upon him. One blade sliced open his left forearm as he fended off one assassin. Another opened a gouge on his chest.

Agony filled the veins of the arch-necromancer. He shouted a curse and one assassin fell writhing as his bones grew thorns that ripped through his flesh. Nalifan kicked the other in the stomach and bounced the now solid assassin against the wall. He got a deep slash on his thigh for his trouble.

He could hear more, smashing through the door and charging the length of the store. The air filled with static as the area was warded against teleportation. He shouted a killing spell.

The assassin fell screaming, blue light pouring out of his mouth and eyes as keening filled the shop. The four killers pouring in didn't even slow. A greatsword carved through the screen, revealing a plate armoured knight leading three others who were swaddled in dark robes. Bony hands gripped long, slightly curved swords. Undead.

Poison raced through his veins as he uttered the initiators of another spells. Spheres of acid shot from his hands and struck the undead knight. They detonated, drenching all the undead with acid. A ghastly wail went up as they were consumed.

Hand crossbow bolts shot toward him, but the drow was still moving. Pain was flowing up from his limbs. The poison would finish him quickly. His attackers weren't taking any chances. He knew what was coming next. He dived and rolled back the way he came, shouting a spell just as the wall he had been next to exploded.

Time slowed. He snagged his belt and his vest on the way back, putting them on and reaping the benefits of their enchantments. The pain abated slightly. He had a little more time.

He used it. He pulled out a spider shaped talisman and jabbed it into the naked flesh of his left arm as he whispered a ward. That would take care of the poison. He was almost out of slow-time. Time to do the unexpected.

He rushed the two with hand crossbows at the entrance of the ruined shop. Time unfroze. He reached them, shouting a spell. He touched one in the chest, the other on the right arm. Flesh exploded in gouts of blood where he struck. They fell back, reeling. Behind them a massive statue of stone carved in the shape of an ogre stepped forward.

Nalifan ran toward it. The golem took a clumsy swipe at him, but the arch-necromancer hit the ground rolling and came up behind it. The ground shook with the force of some kind of explosion, but the magic resistant golem shielded Nalifan from that with his body.

People were running pell-mell through the streets. The drow wouldn't hesitate to shoot into a crowd, but it did make things more confusing. Nalifan dodged into an alley and beyond the range of the teleport disruption field. He shouted a spell and vanished.

Oh my is he gonna be pissed off . Somebody's in line for a mammoth spank

They were mails...
Another opened a gauge on his chest

Typos, m'dear. Mail is Armor. Gauge is a measurement. Male and Gouge were the words you meant?

Bigby's Spanking Hand, I daresay?

LadyTevar wrote:

They were mails...
Another opened a gauge on his chest

Typos, m'dear. Mail is Armor. Gauge is a measurement. Male and Gouge were the words you meant?

Or perhaps "They wore mail"? Works either way, but IO has already fixed it (males it is).

Since we're on the topic. . .

Imperial Overlord wrote:Spells that could melt iron or blast a whole in a castle wall

hole

It was good to inside and away from the sun.

. . .good to be inside. . .

Bah, those are slim pickings! So I'll have to complement the story instead.

Well done. You have, yet again, piqued my curiousity!

A voice whispered in Elvarra's ear. "It is time." Her hands shook. She swallowed. Her throat was as dry as the Anauroch.

Power swelled within her. The air hummed. Silver ghostfire danced over her flesh as her hair waved in an intangible breeze. Her eyes blazed like suns and her voice was thunder.

The door ran like wax in a smith's forge, glyphs and symbols distorting and vanishing as the spells they anchored were overcome and their very substance destroyed. Elvarra rose off her feet, drifting forward over the pool of slag.

The inside of the vault was smaller and plainer than she had imagined. Four clones of Nalifan stood wrapped in fields of amber force, separating them from the time stream. Beside each one was a steel coffer, undoubtedly containing basic spell books and survival equipment.

She pulled a human skin scroll from a small purse in her belt and unrolled it. The invocation was surprisingly short. She spoke the words, releasing the power bound within it. The writing glowed and turned to green fire, devouring the scroll as the stored power was sent through the multiverse to a patron who would accept this payment and lend his might to enact her will.

"Destroy all the inanimate bodies that are of this flesh," she demanded. It is done, said a whisper in her mind, from impossibly far away. A ripple of magical power spread through the room and out into the world. The bodies before her began and all the other clones throughout the world began to rot. Their clothes crumbled and fell off in pieces. Their skins peeled away and their hair sloughed off. Exposed flesh turned black and sloughed off green glowing bones. Internal organs dissolved into disgusting ichors and ran down the half denuded skeletons.

The stasis magics kept the macabre skeletons standing. It is done, she thought. I have done it. There is nothing now but to win or die.

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"We should have used magic first, not assassins," said Iszaya. The warrior-priestess towered over Rezafyn and had discarded the seeming that allowed her to pass as a human. Fully six feet tall and armored in night black plate, the priestess was capable of killing a bugbear with her bare hands. She was an even more formidable as a spell caster than as a warrior.

"We could not possibly get close to him without him seeing through our disguises," replied Rezafyn. "He is drow as well as a high magician and arch-mage. To rely on a spell to bring him down from a distance while having to blast through a building is ludicrously optimistic."

"We could have dropped the building on him," she said.

"We could have tried," said Rezafyn pointed to the half collapsed and burning rubble, "but it probably wouldn't have killed him and even if it trapped him it would have given him a shield between him and the assassins. Besides, our failure was preordained."

"You believe that mass of worms."

"Wither is a liar, but so are we. It came through time to see him dead. It wouldn't have bothered if we were going to succeed here."

"Now he's teleported away," Iszaya said. "Probably to his manse."

"Probably. Elvarra maybe able to finish him, but I doubt it."

"Preordained?" she said with a snicker.

"That and he will have defences in place and his other retainers. We should-"

There was an emerald flash and Iszaya's flesh became glass. The priestess of Lolth toppled forward, her body breaking as it struck the cobbles.

Rezafyn was already turning when a loop fell around his throat. A knee was pressed into his back and the garrote tightened. The spell laden adamantine wire cut through the magister's ward and then sliced through his flesh like a battle axe going through soft cheese. Blood poured and the wire sliced through blood vessels and his trachea to grate on bone.

The magister clutched as his throat, but his killer was impossibly strong. Rezafyn's struggles grew feeble. "Actually," Nalifan said in a jovial tone of voice, "I thought I would turn the tables on my attackers first before going home. I actually teleported into the sky, cast a flight spell and invisibility and then a divination to find my attackers. The next part you know." Darkness claimed the magister.

Nalifan let the body drop to the ground and stared at the house badges both drow wore. Stylized lightning bolts converged at the center and formed an eight legged pattern. House Desanna. He had felt his clones fail moments ago. "Oh Elvarra. You have chosen so terribly wrong," he whispered. There was regret and sorrow in his voice and a terrible, merciless fury.

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Wither stood on a roof on the far side of the city and watched invisibly as the battle occurred again. His magic made it clear as if he was standing right next to Nalifan. A few of the details changed, but not the outcome.

It was to be expected. The time stream was like a river, not easily disturbed from its customary course. The river bed had to be altered for that. Without a strong impulse otherwise, events would unfold in much the same manner as they had before the intervention. An intervention direct enough to matter would acquire the attention of the inevitables, who would attempt to prevent the intervention. And so it went.

Paradox added another layer of difficulty. Wither was attempting to reorder the events of its own personal history, making things even more dangerous and complicated. A false step could result in annihilation.

There was temporal disturbance next to him. A construct of cerulean plate and glittering brass appeared beside the worm that walked. The inevitable was twice Wither's height and had appeared at this moment, still occupying a personal bubble of fast time. Compared to the construct the people of the city seemed frozen in amber.

Wither's own defences automatically matched time streams with the attacking construct. The inevitable raised its arm to crush the worm that walked. Wither hissed a word and jade fire blasted from the abomination's gloved hands. Liquid metal splashed away from the inevitable's flesh and the lance of fire bored through its chest plate and into its inner workings.

Gold fire burst from the inevitable's joints as it toppled over. The impact broke the roof of the building and caused it to topple to the floor beneath, which also broke under the force of its impact. As did the one beneath that and the one beneath that until the burning wreckage wrested on the ground.

Wither departed with a word and a clap of thunder as the worm that walked stepped into nothingness and emerged a thousand miles away. The struggle had just begun. Now the question was who would run out of time first.

Nalifan strode through the corridors of his manse, murderous fury clearly visible upon his features. His servants quailed at the sight of him. "My lord!" shouted Laerasis from behind him. The drow woman was forced to jog to catch up. "What is it?"

"Where is that treacherous bitch Elvarra?" Nalifan hissed.

Laerasis was drow and instantly divined what must have happened. "I saw her head down to the sub levels. I thought she was interested in the dragon egg chamber."

The door in front of Nalifan exploded inward and the arch-necromancer bounded down the stairs. Long strides carried him across the room. He stared in growing fury at the puddle of molten lead and the ruined room behind it.

"The second evacuation plan," he said to Laerasis. "Put it into motion. Now."

"Your will," she said and bounded up the stairs. He shouts echoed through the halls. "Gather up your most vital possessions and basket up every one of the damned cats you can catch!"

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"That did not go well, daughter mine." Shaharith reclined back into the cushions of her private chambers. A glass of dark red wine was in her hands and a pair of adamantine spiders the size of large dogs were placed near the door and her most troublesome daughter.

"Dread Queen," said Elvarra, her head bowed, acutely aware of how close the magical constructs were to her insufficiently warded flesh. "My part of the plan went perfectly."

"The whole plan was one of your devising."

Elvarra raised her head. "Must we play this tiresome game? The plan was good, but probably doomed to fail. You committed some of your best to face him, but neither your strongest daughter, your most potent consort, or yourself was present to contest his might. You sent skilled but expendable retainers and kin and you lost them."

"There is the fire I expect from you daughter. At last."

"He's loose now," said Elvarra. "He'll set up in some place somewhere in the planes. We won't know where he is, but he'll know where we are. He'll grind us to dust."

"You sound less than confident in my abilities."

"You've haven't met him. We cannot blithely expect victory with this one. We need to put him down. Hard."

"Your suggestion?"

"This happened before, did it not? We have an ally, let us use him. Test him. See what aid he can provide us in this matter. We don't need to trust him to make use of him. Since when do either of us trust anybody?"

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A score of humanoids stood on the edge of a cliff. The sky was full of smoke and the air swam with heat shimmers. Beneath them a river of molten rock meandered through a plain of black rock and dull cinders.

Two men, one barely more than a boy the other grey haired and scarred, stepped through a oval of red light, each holding basket and wearing a pack. "We are the last, mistress," said the man.

Laerasis nodded. "We're still missing some cats. I imagine they'll manage. You did well Travhem."

She stepped forward and closed the gate to the manse down to the size of a pin prick. She turned back to address the crowd. "Nalifan will return to take us in the next stage of the journey. Everyone should make sure that they drink enough water, especially the children. Water the cats as well."

A gust of cool air struck her from behind. She turned to find Trizkel standing in front of a portal showing a grassy meadow under a star filled sky. The powerfully built male stood easy. "Alright. Everyone through the portal and get settled. We can have pavilions and other facilities set up within the hour."

Humans and drow began to file passed, entering the portal. "What is going on?" Laerasis asked Trizkel in drow handsign.

"House Desanna decided to kill Nalifan."

"That explains Elvarra turning."

"Yes. We've secured this place. It's out of the way and well protected. You'll be in charge."

"You won't be staying."

"No. We have a war to win."