The Dark Crystal (Anyone)

I smirked coldly back at Ren. "No, insult is too much of a compliment. Your attempts are pitiful." Close to the mark, but pitiful nontheless.

I sighed deeply, trying to get all of my emotions back into order again. At least Khaz had distracted from the whole 'you're not human' conversation, and though he now seemed upset, it was still better than having to deal with Ren alone. Once again, he was being too kind to me, but this time, it brought pain rather than awkwardness. It was fitting that someone like him should meet me in such an awful place...

A sudden movement against my leg made me flinch, and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. I tried to brush the invasive feeling off, and to my horror, I felt a small hairy body fall off of my leg and onto the ground. I crushed the thing easily enough with my foot, but the crunch it made caused me to shudder.

"Just what is it that we are waiting for?!"

(OoC: This thread either needs less angst, or needs to grow a fringe and get it over with. )

The tiger-eyed apothecary took a step forward, pinning the drow woman against the cold stone wall. Sweat beaded on her brow as she tore off her silken blouse, her full and sweaty bosom heaving in the half dark room. Her back brushed against the stone, causing the Lady of Malstra to shiver and whine for a release from the sensations wracking her body. Stars lingered in her vision; her skin tingled at the touch of the merest breeze.

Omentus smiled maliciously, licking his chops in a wolfish way. With his deep and graveled voice, he told her again, “I am interested in your escaped prisoners.” She glanced around the room, her head swimming while she fought off the fever’s delirium. “You drow could have killed them, but you did not. Why?” the necromancer asked, his tone gentle but direct.

She shook her head, refusing to answer the question. She did not retort, however. Her grasp on her mental faculties was slipping. The fear was present, and the sense of wanting escape. It was now only a matter of time before the udelat’s induced fever began to affect her judgment, when she would start telling the seromancer everything he wanted to hear. Between the delirious, insane ravings, of course.

“You could have killed the prisoners, but they were important to you for some reason. What was that reason, assassin of Malstra?” Omentus asked again, taking another step forward. She pushed herself up against the cold wall, eyes rolling into the back of her head. She was weak in the knees, and shook her body over. Omentus reached into the red leather pack on his right side, and drew out a bottle of deep blue, transparent liquid. Unscrewing the brushcap from the lid, he painted a swathe of the liquid across the drow’s cheek. It changed colors, quickly turning from blue to green to yellow, before finally coming to a rest in hue, somewhere between yellow and orange. Omentus squinted at the substance while he replaced the cap, and put away the bottle. “Your fever has reached one hundred and four degrees, my Lady. Soon, the heat will begin to permanently damage your brain, and after you reach one hundred and eight, you will die,” Omentus informed the woman. “From what I have seen, it is one of the worst, mostly natural ways to go. Blood boiling in your veins…”

She shook her head again, but whether she refused to believe him or was fighting some other thought, Omen could not be sure. “Issa… for the… Lloth, Spider Quee… crystal…” she murmured, her mind jumping from one subject to the next.

“I have udelat’s antidote. I can stop the fever.” Omentus notified the gasping drow. Instantly, her eyes flickered back into view, locking onto the apothecary. He had gotten her attention, just as the liquid on her cheek turned a little more orange. At this moment, every scrap of the concentration she could muster was on Omentus, waiting for the condition of her cure. “The escapes prisoner—“ he stopped, cut off.

“Sacrifices. Sleeping child, in the crystal. The goddess will…” she started to trail off, but snapped herself back into awareness again, “… will give birth to her, sacrifices to appease her. Heretic, high elf, human male and female, half-dragon… who could resist?” The panting woman began to sink onto the ground, rocking herself back and forth.

Omentus prodded her with the side of Fluffy’s blade, snapping her back to lucidity.

“Who could resist, demon?” the drow asked Omentus. Obviously, her hallucinating mind had decided that Omentus was more demon than man. “The chance comes rarely… coup de grâce… the dragon spawn’s own sword, to bleed them all on the crystal before the goddess will visit her, and – glorious – give life to her within the chrysalis.” She swooned as the streak of paint on her cheek began to turn orange. The fever had reached one hundred and six. “P-p-p-p…” the drow stammered, “p-please… antidote.” Any drow in their right mind would never have begged, especially for mercy from a nondrow, and certainly never from a male.

Omentus looked down at her, disgusted. “I lied,” he said coldly.

The drow assassin’s eyes snapped open. The paint turned orange-red, and she fell forward, eyes open and eerily still. Drool dribbled from the side of her mouth, and her breathing slowed substantially, until it nearly stopped.

The udelat was running its course. It was a drug designed to induce an artificial fever, to ‘smoke out’ diseases within the body that were sensitive to heat. At the same time as raising the temperature of the body, however, it also raised the body’s resistance to fever. With a full dose of udelat, as the one that the female had already inhaled, the brain could survive up to such temperatures of one hundred and seventeen degrees before death occurred, and even delaying brain damage to one hundred and twelve. The whole process was grossly stressful to the body, especially since something in the brain knew that it should be dead by the time a fever progressed so far, and thus it also had the effect of causing long-term unconsciousness at around one hundred and eight degrees. Over the next few hours, a patient’s fever would subside, but it might take days to wake up from the trauma.

There was, though, at least one death in the room. Omentus looked over Fluffy, examining the carefully crafted body of the pit viper. Her heart had stopped beating; she had succumbed to her burns from the fireball in the dark crystal’s chamber. “Strange,” Omentus remarked, “I thought I had made you better than that.” He shrugged, and discarded his erstwhile rapier’s body onto the floor of the chamber, like it were any other trash.

Omentus knelt beside the body of the unconscious drow, examining the claw-like weapon on her left hand. He found its securements and blinked, turning his eyes another color. Indeed, the white-silver bladed weapon was magical. Until he could find another potential weapon, it would make a fine replacement. The seromancer took a glove made from the stitched flesh of criminals out of his cloak, and slid it over his hand. Hands of cold, black energy materialized from the air near him, and set about the task of removing the woman’s nekode, and then securing it to his right wrist and hand. When it was done, he flexed his fist and twirled his hand about, getting a feel for the new weapon. He blinked again, turning his back to the color they should be, and put away the glove of dark hands into its personal pocket.

So, Omentus thought, a half-dragon, and it’s escaped from a drow prison cell. What potent blood. How shall I acquire it, then?

(OOC: I would have posted last night, but since Ren mentionned me right before going out, I was worried if I posted I would do something to screw it up. )


I shook my head at all the arguments passing on. We're stuck in a giant underground complex, with drow teeming everywhere. I was relieved when Leonna changed the subject, why exactly were we waiting here?

"Leonna has a point there. According to you, Rontu you we're going to put on the dark elf's noble clothing like five minutes ago. Before Ren decided to pick a fight. We haven't even hid the bodies yet. Though he did make a point. Leonna doesn't seem human, elfin or the like to me. It can be... unsettling to not know what your travelling with. We don't care what you are, as long as you don't end up killing us all. Back in the jail cell I noticed a few traits in you. They all pointed towards some type of Faeri. Am I correct? There are few other creatures that manipulate energy in the same way you do, but they would be eager for people to know what they are. You seem... Thoughtful. Not the best way to put it, but you always are lost in thought."

My words we're less assured than normal. Leonna wans't the only one that the darkness was starting to effect.

Ah well, at least it wasn't dark and hot. Then I would be in trouble. But that was not the case, so why worry about it? Why worry? Of course I should worry! I'm stuck who knows how deep underground with nothing but a drow, a human with seemingly multiple personalities, a crazy half-dragon and someone who thinks we'll all die if we find out what she is. Don't forget an army of dark elves around every corner! All this because I took up a mission to spy on this damn mountain!

Suddenly I realized something.

Wasn't this mountain supposed to contain both humans AND drow? I haven't seen a single human this whole time. Only drow. Where were they all? Maybe they populated the outside of the mountain? But that was unlikely. The air would be hard to breath, and it could be hard to defend in some cases. Maybe they... sacrificed them to Lolth? That could explain why they allied themselves with the humans in the first place. All this for offerings? What we're they planning to do with all of them? If the god responded to that in some way with the crystal.. They could be... Oh god. If they've sacrificed thousands of humans to the god, in return for power in the crystal... They could make, or do... I have to get out of here as soon as possible! We have no hope of destroying it with only the five of us! If I can't get back to camp soon and warn my superiors, they'll assume I'm dead and launch the attack. The crystal could destroy them if they don't treat it with caution!

I didn't voice my concerns to the others just yet, I was more than willing to wait for a bit longer.


(OOC: Is it spelt Lolth or Lloth? I've seen it both ways in other posts. Also, on a side note, after this finally ends this mountain can't be a setting for any future RPs you guys make. From my character's biography and my first post, this entire mountain is going to be attacked by the wood and high elf after this is done. Most likely a solo RP, if there is no better way to do it.)

OoC: On a side note, I have completed Takai's picture! I say Takai because it's more of his expression than Khaz's, but this is basically what they look like. ^^ Just wanted to share.

Oh, and about the Lolth/Lloth thing. Her true name is Lloth, but it believed that if you speak her name she will be able to hear everything you say for about ten minutes. So unless you have anything good to say about her, you say her name Lolth.

Bic:
Rontu waited for Adurna to leave the cave and then stared at the Hylian instead of speaking. Khaz smiled weakly at him, waiting.

“You do realize what you are doing, don’t you?”

“Uh … what?” said Khaz, brows furrowing.

“With the girl, Leonna. You do know what you’re doing, right?” repeated Rontu, staring down at him with his unrelenting cool gaze.

“Leonna … what do you mean?” he asked, truly perplexed. What did Leonna have to do with anything?

“You do realize she isn’t human or elf, right?”

“What …?” He hadn’t noticed anything except … well, her eyes were unusually bright. He supposed he was getting so used to seeing strange things that he was starting to accept them as normal.

“She was able to perform magic even though Adurna couldn’t when we had been drugged. It had no affect on her like Ren. She could be an assassin from the dark lords for all we know,” said Rontu, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the cave wall. Khaz stared, though really he didn’t need any light to guess the drow’s expression. It hardly changed much.

He couldn’t believe this though. What was Rontu saying? He was always the most cautious out of them but this was getting ridiculous. “What? Asssassin? How paranoid can you be? So what she’s not normal. That doesn’t instantly make her an assassin.”

“I’m just saying it’s possible so don’t let you guard down so much around her,” said Rontu as calmly as usual. “And say if she is just as she seems to be … what are you doing? Did you leave Malon just so you could screw around as much as you please? I don’t care what you do, just don’t do it right now.”

His words were like an unexpected slap across the face. The Hylian just stared at Rontu for a moment in shock and then seemed to gather his senses again.

“What?! Screw around? No, I’m … I’m not doing that sort of thing anymore. No screwing around, no relationships—nothing.”

That was true. He didn’t want relationships anymore. He had realized that with him they were impossible. There was no wife and children in his future, as long as there was danger a foot and Takai in his head. Love, happiness, and peace of mind were not for him. This he had learned quickly with Malon. He couldn’t share the truth of himself with her, and that was why they couldn’t be together.

Yet after experiencing love and all its blessings … he couldn’t go back to his old self either. It had changed him. He didn’t want the one night stands anymore. They just seemed so empty now. He would only feel more alone each time he slept with some random woman, forgetting her name in the morning and all the wonderful things about her. Things that he could come to love if he let himself.

“Oh?” continued Rontu. “Then maybe you should keep your attention on your situation rather than the girl next to you, and stop being so kind. You’re leading her on with your oblivious ways. I need everyone’s complete attention. There is no room to be unintentionally flirting.”

Khaz felt as if he was being continually smacked. Oh goddesses, what had he been doing? Rontu was right; he was getting all caught up with Leonna without realizing it. He put his forehead to his palm and said nothing for a moment. He was still going to be kind to her. That wouldn’t change. That was just proper. She was of the fairer sex, aligned with the goddesses. Besides, he could have her as a one-time friend at least, and so kind he would be to his friend. He just should stop touching her as much.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’ll keep my head this time … thank you.”

Rontu nodded with approval.

“Now, back to business. What do you have to tell me about the noble?”

Khaz looked up from his hand. “His name was Kelagh Hlaund. The 12th of the house. From the City of Stone Webs.”

Rontu smirked a little. “Perfect … not important enough to remember his face but of high enough rank to demand respect, even as a male … That is all. You can go.”

And Khaz left.

After he changed, he stuffed his original clothes and trench coat into the bag Khaz had left behind. He didn’t care much for his shirt and leggings, but his coat had been a gift and he took it with him everywhere. He found the bundle of swords and attached one to himself and then rolled them up again and hid them in the bag as well. They would useful later, perhaps.

He walked out to hearing Adurna speaking.

“Adurna is right. This is no time for bickering. Ren, you should have been gathering the bodies up while I changed instead of picking fights. From now on I want everyone’s attention on getting out of here. There will be no room for distractions. They will get you killed the farther in we go.”

He looked over at Khaz who showed no surprise to hearing that Leonna wasn’t human. Faeri was she? He supposed that made sense. He had never seen one before, though he knew others who have. Mostly those from Hyrule.

Ren rolled his eyes and walked away to gather the bodies up. He wasn’t going to waste his time on that woman or faeri or whatever she was anymore. If she wanted to be miserable there was nothing he could say. Like she said, it was all choice and she chose to hate herself. What ticked him off was that it was for no good reason. That was what he had been trying to say. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t as tainted as she believed herself to be. She had never killed or harmed anyone intentionally for her own enjoyment. Ren had, and that was why he didn’t mind them saying those horrible things about him.

They were true. Why fight it?

Rontu continued his lecture as he left. “We should leave those stone weapons behind us. Khaz brought steel, but we should hide them until later. Slaves aren’t supposed to be armed. Leonna, you can walk behind me with your light so that it doesn’t hurt my eyes and so that the rest of you ‘slaves’ can see. You are to look meek and submissive. Do not look directly into anyone’s face or eyes, nor will you look me in the face when around others. If you do, it will earn more pain than you were asking for. Does everyone understand?”

OoC: Yay for Shrub! And Kuldr was right...Leonna thinks a lot more than she does anything else.

BiC:

I smiled slightly, happy that they were merely content to call me 'Fairie.' Honestly, I should have been expecting such from the high elf--he was no scared villager with no knowledge of magic. Trying to fool these people into thinking I was human was foolish from the beginning. However, I doubted they would ever understand what I truly was, for as I did share many qualities of a fairy, I also had other such things that were not. After all these years, I still had not figured it out...

"As you wish." I said with a resigned sigh. I created a small orb of light in my hand again, though it did little to increase visibility in the foilage. Crashing through all of the leaves would be miserable, and without Khaz's guidance--

Oh, stop it. I cannot expect him to comfort me when it is me that should be protecting him. But perhaps it could not be helped. If I could draw comfort merely from the sound of his voice, who cared? It was better than being alone, being even more distracted by the dark fears that threatened to overtake me. At least this comfort...this small relief...this I would allow myself.

And there was one more thing that made me smile...trying to imagine Kuldr and Ren acting like slaves.

"Perhaps it is time we moved on?"

“Yes, it is. Khaz, you walk next to Leonna to give me directions. Ren, Adurna, you two bring up the rear.”

Ren was passing them by every now and then with a body and stuffing it through the crack. He just glowered at Rontu in response as he went. He finished cramming the last corpse through and then walked over to join them.

“All right then, let’s move.” Rontu tossed the bag to Khaz, who caught it and slung it over his shoulder again.

Khaz did as he was told and took his place next to Leonna. He smiled at her kindly as usual. A faerie? Was she really? That was so amazing … And yet she didn’t react much to it … as if she didn’t really believe it herself. The mood around her was strange now. Different than before. Somehow it touched something inside him as well. Something sore that still hurt sometimes.

It was that lonely ache of being very alone.

He didn't have much time to think longer on this. Rontu had started moving, so he had to keep whispering directions to him, which were whispered to him by Takai.

(OoC: The Spider Queen's name is spelled Lloth, but only her faithful refer to her that way, because she has the ability to hear what was said both before and after her name. Though no character knows the exact limit of what she can hear, she does hear the ten words said before her name, and the ten words said after. Therefore, non-faithful without a death wish refer to her as Lolth, because the name sounds close enough to Lloth that no one can confuse who the subject of the name really is. Lloth is a cruel and chaotic goddess, who might even decide to send one of her personal handmaidens to kill someone who says her name without being faithful, and has been known (on very rare occasions) to send an aleax, or even her own avatar, for the task of punishing them.)

And here we go again. Without Khaz's steady hand to guide me, I fumbled through the plants, trying hard to walk forward and stay balanced at the same time. The leaves still scratched at me like relentless insects, making me shudder each time one brushed against my neck. And more than that, the foilage everywhere was immensly disorienting, making it difficult to even tell whether we were moving backwards, forwards, or any way at all. If I had not been able to hear Khaz's breathing beside me, I would have easily wandered off...

And then the inevitable happened. I tripped and fell, unable to grasp onto the foilage for support. I hit the rocky ground with a annoyingly loud thud, the leaves doing nothing to cushion my fall. The uneven cave floor bit easily into my hands and knees, creating a few shallow cuts from which my strange white blood oozed out of.

"I...I apologize!" I whispered frantically, horrified by the blood I felt on my skin. The fact that I was bleeding did not frighten me, but in front of everyone else? Now it would be more than obvious that I was not human! Not only was my blood the wrong color, but it was not the right smell, either. While I had never really come up with a scent to describe it, I had always considered it sweet smelling, like some kind of flower with sugar in its pollen. And that definately was not human.

But I was not able to dwell long on my odd blood, for a sharp voice immediately broke through the foilage, only a few yards away.

"Who goes there!" The harsh male voice of a drow sounded cautiously.

Agh, so stupid! Now I have really done us in!

Khaz quickly bent down to help her stand. He saw her blood, but since it was not red or having that metallic smell it didn’t bother him at all. In fact, the sweet scent of flowers met his senses. Well, she wasn’t human, right? So her blood would be different. He was rather relieved that it was. It wasn’t enough to make him faint or anything. It would have just made him rather uneasy.

“Kelagh of Hlaund,” Rontu replied through the brush and leaves. “And what is the meaning of all this?”

Two drow emerged out of the obscuring plants. They gazed at Rontu carefully and then at his slaves behind him. Their eyes lingered on Kuldr. Having an elven slave was rare, since they mostly seemed to prefer suicide to enslavement with the drow. If Hlaund was the 12th house of 12 then it would be above his purse to buy one, but there were ways around that.

“Of Ched Nesad?” inquired one.

Ched Nesad meant the same thing as “the City of Stone Webs” but in their own tongue.

“Yes, now what is all of this?”

They paused but only shortly before answering. “There was an intruder in the crystal chamber. It was the invader’s strange magic. It should fade rather soon, my lord.”

"And was he caught?"

"No, my lord, he slipped through our fingers. We also have escaped prisoners about. So beware, shall we escort you to your destination?"

"No," said Rontu with the curt tone of disdain. "I have my own protection." He waved a lazy hand back at Ren without looking at him. "I have no need for incompetent fools who let intruders and prisoners wander about. Now carry on out of my sight."

They nodded in comprehension and then Rontu moved ahead without another word to them. They inclined their heads to him as he passed, being of common rank and not belonging to the family of the noble houses. Khaz took Leonna's hand again, despite the blood. He couldn't help it. He just wanted to help her. If she tripped again he would catch her faster this way. Once far enough away, Rontu spoke to his companions.

“Each slave usually has a specific task. Leonna is obviously for light, Khaz is for general menial tasks, Ren is my champion who does my dirty work and keeps you all in line and deals out the punishment when I order for it, and Adurna is more of my symbol of status because he is a high elf. They usually take their own lives than be kept as slaves. So Kuldr Adurna, you must act broken of spirit, for your life and ours depends on it. And you were right. There is someone in here other than us.”

My heart sank as Khaz helped me up and Rontu smoothed things over with the drow. Once again I had managed to become a burden on everyone, causing trouble rather than actually helping. I was amazed to see how flawless Rontu's performance was, how easily he fooled our enemy.

I am...very fortunate that everyone is here with me. Rontu's cleverness, Kuldr's magic, Ren's strength, Khaz's kindness...it was with all of this that I have made it this far. I just wish there was something I could do in return...

With great guilt, I gently slid my hand from Khaz's, not wanting to worry him any more . I winced when I saw the streaks of my blood on his hand, knowing how Rontu had warned us about his aversion to blood. He was probably being too kind again to show his disgust, since he appeared not to be bothered at all. "I...apologize for the blood. You needn't worry."

At least there appeared to be more hope ahead. As Rontu had said, there was indeed another intruder besides ourselves, and if they had infiltrated the crystal chamber, there was a good chance that they were on the same side as us. Maybe they would even try to help if they heard of escaped prisoners. I still did feel a little sorry for Kuldr, seeing as his pride had to be tread upon for our escape.

He let her fingers slip away from him.

"It's okay," he said, looking at her face. "Your blood ... it's different, you see. Different color, even the smell ... So it doesn't bother me ... I'm sorry for taking your hand. A woman needs her independence, right?"

He looked ahead. "Rontu, turn left."

It was better this way. He didn't really even know her anyway. What did he really know about her personally? She wasn't human, she had been on her way to the elves, she was quiet and thoughtful, but out-spoken when she needed to be. She didn't let Ren trample her down. She was strong and yet ... also very hurt somehow and vulnerable. When he told her that her eyes were beautiful, the way she looked at him ... it was like she had never heard that word spoken to her before. She was sad and alone, but he didn't know why. She hated spiders ... A smile forced itself on his face, remembering how she shuddered and exclaimed how she never wanted to see them again.

OoC: Just a little bit for Leonna and Khaz. Waitin on you, Sticky.

(OOC: Sorry, yesterday was Canada Day. Went to family reunions and fireworks.)


I was muttering to myself all the way through the hallways. The others may think it's because I was pretending my mind was broken, as Rontu had asked me to do. It wasn't. I was basically cursing Rontu for thinking up this stupid plan. I mean, we could have pretended he caught me from the escaped prisoners and that he was bringing me to some random drow lady. That way I wouldn't have had to bury my pride.

"I mean, it's only a matter of time before they realize we ARE the escaped prisoners! And we're headed right to the center of everything. The further we get the more likely it is someone will see through Rontu's plan. Either that or Ren will get in a fight. If we get stuck near the crystal or our weapons, we won't have a chance. The drow won't even have to kill us, it'd almost be easier to offer us to Lolth, along with all the humans. What could those damn dark elves want with all the energy in the crystal anyways?! It would help if I at least knew what I would be getting information on, since I have no hope of destroying it without thr army..."

And there I went, my mind slowly drifting to different topics by random comments I made. I rememebred I couldn't have a weapon just then. A fat stream of curses left my mouth as I chucked the blade away, nearly decapitating Khaz. This was the last time I ever did a reconnaisance job. Too easy to get captured. One day or another I would be sacrificed.

Despite the danger of our situation, I could not help but smile at all of Kuldr's mumbling. While I was not happy that he was upset, it was good to know that there were still living, feeling beings in this drow infested place.

Such a thought caused me to wonder what they were doing here in the first place. How long had they lived in these dark caves, and why? Did they feel closer to their goddess here, or was it just the safest place to carry out their dastardly plans? It was obvious that fire had once ruled this mountain, seeing as the caves themselves were carved out of sharp black volcanic rock, but somehow darkness had taken it over...

I gritted my teeth as I nearly tripped again, the foilage grasping at my legs. "Khaz, is it much farther?" It was a pointless question, seeing as it would not get us anywhere any faster, but I needed some sort of distraction from the stupid foilage.

Khaz felt something barely whiz past the back of his neck. He turned his head to see Kuldr’s rock sword clatter to the ground. His eyes widened. Jeez, he really needed to be careful with that. Ren ignored the high elf’s muttering next to him, yet smirked at the idea. Ha! Adurna had to be a symbol of Rontu’s status. Serves the stuck-up prick right!

“Hey, Rontu,” he whispered. “Since I’m your champion and all, can I have a sword?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be reasonable,” consented the drow.

Khaz pulled a short sword out of his bag and handed it back to Ren. The dragon fingered the blade, testing its sharpness. It was fine, but nothing compared to his Akane. It was definitely worth all this trouble to get it back.

His grandfather had given him that sword on his tenth birthday. The day his father came and took him and Tasuki away from his mother and home. Akane was the family treasure of the Nevisu clan of high elves. They had always had strong ties with the dragons in the past. He supposed that was one of the reasons his mother was chosen to breed with the white dragon. She was also a High Priestess of the Elohim gods of Iki. Rika Nevisu had been famously known, especially for her immense pride and honor for her dying clan.

Leonna just didn’t get it. He would always easily take the lives of drow. He would always hate their black faces (Rontu was an exception to this rule; to Ren, he didn’t count as a drow). His instincts were telling him she had never known family. She had never known what it was to lose them horribly. She had always been alone. The drow and the Dark Lord of Void, his father, had taken everything from him. His home and when his mother broke into the castle to save her sons, they took her away from him as well.

It hurt more to be alone after you knew what it was to have someone.

Whenever he saw drow, he saw the elves that had beaten him and his brother into submission with blunt metal swords. Training swords, so they hadn’t been sharp. That was when they finally got smart enough not to break their hands on his and Tasuki’s iron frames. Forcing Nevisus to submit … it was a matter of the deepest shame. They had sullied his honor. And he always saw the face of Niko Kashino. The one that cut his mother’s throat. His knife, Rin, had once belonged to that drow. It was that very same knife that ended his mother’s life. That’s why he used it to kill Kashino a year later. That was the very first man he ever killed. He was eleven-years-old.

He hoped to kill his father someday with it as well. That was why he had to get Rin back.

In truth, he still had a few people left on his list to kill. Hyde Kushin, Dito Caminar, Nottuu, … and Kagai Teishu. Whenever that man entered his thoughts, every organ, every vein, every bit of his flesh burned with a hate that hurt. It hurt because the wound still stung with the shame and humiliation. So much that it made his insides curl with disgust. Out of them all … Kagai had sullied his pride and honor the most. Perhaps he wanted to kill him even more than his father. Rin was always his little reminder of what he had to do still.

Khaz reached out when Leonna nearly tripped again, but seeing that she caught herself he leaned away. He didn’t want to offend her with his constant attention.

“Um, I’m afraid it’s still a while, but you heard those drow. This stuff should disappear soon.”

He looked ahead and then pressed a finger to his lips. A signal for silence. Takai alerted him to invisible guards nearby this place. They were stationed around the door they needed to pass through. It wasn’t long until Rontu noticed as well.

The dust. Nothing went unnoticed by his hawk-like eyes. It had often saved his life in the past several times. Details were everything. Finding one thing out of place was often all that alerted him to an attempt on his life. Those had been very often as well.

So Adurna thought he had it bad. Rontu hated this. Pretending to be a noble and scheming his away around the place … To him, it was just as shameful as pretending to be a broken slave. He had always loathed the nobles and their houses. Kuldr Adurna knew nothing of what it meant to be a drow. They were just as trapped. In this cursed life ruled by their cold and unrelenting Spider Queen. It brought back his old memories of the empire easily.

The dust was often stirred up with the leaves and petals. Often he saw them swirl about where no breeze in these tunnels could have moved them. They tumbled about unnaturally. But they would pay no mind to the noble and his slaves passing through. Khaz moved him to the placing of the door that would have normally been hidden in all the plant life.

“Stop,” whispered the Hylian nearly inaudibly, but Rontu was already Listening. A skill most elves seemed to have. The ability to hear things they ordinarily wouldn’t have been able to. “There’s a spell on the door. Order me to open it.”

Rontu made no sign of having heard him but then suddenly spoke with a loud and commanding voice. “Boy!”

Khaz bowed his head to feign meek obedience. He shuffled forward and Takai took slight control of his hand to trace a symbol on the door. It was an easy enchantment to analyze. The shadows had told him which symbol would do. It was simple and not done by any advanced or trained mage. Any novice could have done it. This was just the tip of all the protection they had laid about from here on.

The door swung open and they entered. They continued on through more passages.

OoC: Okay, pausing here and hoping Drammor will post again before our characters move a head to the next check point.

Depending on the breed and the mix, hunting a half-dragon could be relatively easy. On the other hand, it could be excessively difficult. It would probably be easier on Omentus if he had just wanted to kill the damn thing. Still, who would give up a chance like this? To study and tinker with the inner working of a creature with those kinds of natural abilities, no matter what the breed was. If he were lucky, no matter what the mix was, either.

He would need free passage of the drow complex. It would be harder to hunt anything as long as the drow were looking for him. They would look for him until he was dead, or until he escaped and weeks had passed by. Perhaps not even then. So, he needed to die.

Omentus looked at Fluffy, whose distorted corpse was still laying on the ground. "Perhaps you can still be of use to me," the seromancer said with a devious grin. He drew Helir and cleared off the drow woman’s desk. He laid her on top of it and took a full draw from the artery inside her right thigh. Next, Omentus slid over the table they had been sipping wine from and put it beside the desk. He cleared most of the things from this table as well, but decided to save the two vials of poison from their cubby holes on its underside. He set the bottle of wine on the ground, and began to set up his portable lab. It was a short process, taking only about fifteen minutes in total.

The first part of his plan would be relatively simple. Derive the power of the drow’s blood for himself, with a short term infusion. He set the barrel into the proper receptacle, and started the machine. Lightning popped between three spindles. Once, twice, three times before it finally held, and ran a stream down through the barrel. The blood began to pass the barrel, following its long path through tubes, between crystals charged with various energies and over the carefully laid lines of glowing geometries, before it was finally deposited into another, nearly identical barrel. That part could be left alone; it would finish and shut itself off, giving the collected, transformed drow blood time to cool.

The seromancer’s mind was on the woman’s body. He stripped her of all clothing, and then took a vial of powder from his hip pack. He began to pour the powder slowly, in certain lines and patterns across the woman’s body. Then, he took a few components from his pack – a pouch of herbs, a carbon gem, a small diamond, and a closed cocoon. He began to chant, but stopped suddenly. He was about to work a powerful magic. The room needed more wards. Perhaps it even needed a shell.

Omentus walked across the room and got into the cupboard. He took out the other wine glasses, and set them next to the door. He searched the desk’s drawers, and retrieved an adamantite knife. He went to the door again, and knelt, cutting the back of his hand with the knife. Blood trickled onto the glasses, and he spoke quiet words of arcane power. There was the sound of glass shattering, followed by the total disappearance of both blood and glass. Instead, a diaphanous veil surrounded the room, muting what would follow. Certainly, every creature in the mountain more sensitive to magic than the average drow might still feel that a dweomer was being worked, but its nature would be elusive, as would its intensity, and certainly would its location.

Omentus crossed the room to the table again, and set his hands apart from each other. He began to chant. White color and golden light lit from within his eyes, and the room filled with the light of streamers and flares of shining energy. The powder began to sink into the woman’s body. Beneath the blinding light, and the nearly inaudible sound of the man’s chanting. About the desk, the imagery of slowly moving gears, like the innards of a finely crafted timepiece, took ethereal substance.

The woman’s body began to change, first becoming pale, then growing taller. Her white hair turned black, and her eyes, still open, changed from deep red to pale teal with the vertical slits of a feline animal. Her breasts sank away as the gears turned, and within just minutes, the body of Omentus lay on the desk, beside the body of Omentus, standing beside the desk. New gears appeared from the ether, with arcs of fiery blue jumping between them. The expression on the drow’s face changed, despite the fact that she was unconscious. Over the course of the next minute, several features of the drow’s body changed, until the mimicry was complete. The light went out, the gears vanished… it was as if there was nothing there but the two different Omentuses, and never was.

Omentus took his hands away from the desk, where the energies he’d used just a moment before had burned strangely contoured lines into the top of the wood. He crossed the room to the woman’s wardrobe, and withdrew several pieces of silk, leather and fine cotton clothing. These, he slung over his arm and drew a geometric circle on the ground. He tore a scrap from his shirt and tossed it atop the circle, speaking a word that could not be completely heard. The lines of the geometry began to glow. Then, he tossed the other clothes on top of it, and at once shreds of leather and began to fly about in a tiny maelstrom, some changing color and others changing shape. The changes took only half a minute, before Omentus picked up the clothes, now a copy of his own, and lay them next to his clone.

Taking the last of the glasses from the cupboard, and a few daggers and two hand crossbows out of the wardrobe, Omentus put on the glove of dark hands. Disembodied hands of cold, black energy appeared in the air, and began to trace another, but slightly different, geometric circle on the ground. One hand retrieved the bottle of wine, another took the vials of poison from him, and both took them back to the circle. He tossed the glasses and the weapons haphazardly onto the circle, and three of the hands touched different places along its curve. The objects tore themselves apart, and started the process of becoming his syringes, barrels and look-alikes of his drugs.

Omentus took the third hand crossbow of five out of the wardrobe and cocked it. He placed three drops of beli onto a clean bolt, and without any form of warning or glance to the side, pointed the weapon at the invisible sentinel standing in the corner of the room. The bolt loosed in an instant, catching the male in the leg. It was a clever trick, to keep a servant watching everything from silence and veiled from sight, but it was a bad way to hide from Omentus while he still wore the false paranoia ring. The watcher buckled at the leg, and made a dash for the door. Obviously, he had been ordered only to watch, report anything he saw, and escape if it were necessary. He didn’t quite make it through the first lock before the beli clouded his mind. For the nonce, Omentus let him stand there, stupid.

The necromancer dropped the crossbow on the ground and retrieved the copies of his personal effects. He dressed the lifeshaped drow woman in his things, equipped her leg harness with the syringes, and sheathed the dead Fluffy in her scabbard. Black hands created a larger, far more complex circle on the ground. This one was complete with many arcs and intersecting shapes, and easily took up half the room. One hand shoved the drow sentinel on top of the circle, and the other four were spaced equidistant across it. It didn’t require an exact match, since most people never fully saw Omen’s armor nor targe, so this crass manner of distortion would work fine. He spoke the words, while he worked across the room, putting away his portable lab.

A brilliant white star that shone with golden color appeared over the second drow, as his body was melted limb from limb, changed color and grew eyes and mouths where eyes and mouths ought not to be. Bright energies of rainbow hues erupted from the geometric lines, engulfing the male as his body took on the most unnatural of changes. It went on for three and a half minutes like this.

The seromancer needed a little more time to pack up his lab, but it was no matter. He was almost done here. He set up a mirror on the table, and placed a yellow quartz gemstone securely into the leg pack of the drow woman on the desk. From where his work station was, he picked up the barrel of transmuted drow blood, now mostly cold, and placed it in Helir’s frame. He stuck Helir’s barrel into the brassy port on his arm, and slowly injected the entire contents. Moments later, he felt slightly disoriented, but he continued his work regardless. He withdrew Helir from his arm, and put it back in his holster. “I can’t help but think I’m forgetting something,” he mused. Omentus hmmed.

The necromancer shrugged, and kept working. He crossed the room to the new armor and targe that lay on the ground, where the second drow once was, and then equipped them to the body of his clone.

Suddenly, new sounds appeared in his ears, and a strangely familiar pain coursed his body. He felt dizzy, and nearly fell over, but managed to catch himself on the edge of the desk. His ears lengthened slowly, becoming more elven. His eyes adjusted somehow oddly, and his blood ran with a power that begged to be released. He lifted his hand and beckoned that magic from within himself now. An orb of dim, violet fire appeared above his hand. Across the room, he gestured. A larger orb of pure, silent darkness appeared there. He concentrated, focusing his vision. In addition to the detail and acuteness that his tiger’s eyes already provided him, colors covered everything. It took a moment, but he began to figure them out. These were heat colors, similar to the ones he used in his body heat gauging paint. All things had some heat in them, living things especially so. He walked about the room, getting a feel for this new way of looking into the world. He stopped.

With some focus, he closed his eyes and began to listen. Just listen. There were so many more things available to him now. He reveled in it, speaking very quietly to himself, “Perhaps I may need to make this change a permanent one.” He shook his head, coming back to the task at hand. He looked down at the Omentus that had previously been a drow assassin. He took otenic from his hip back, and smeared it beneath her nostrils. The response was not immediate, but her fever broke, and began to decline. Twenty minutes later, she awoke with a start.

The drow in his body looked up at Omen, speaking to him in his voice, “I must escape the mountain. It is unsafe here. I can return in a few days to retrieve a piece of the dark crystal, if there’s one left, but I need more time to prepare.”

Omentus nodded. The clone of himself he made still knew how to work the locks on the door, and explained all of them to him in detail, then left the room and locked the door behind her. Omentus sat down by the mirror on the table, and touched its side. In it, the image of his clone appeared. She walked briskly down the corridor, but did not have the benefit of an Ignore Me spell to keep her safe. As she rounded the first corridor, a sentry drew his blade and dove for her. He had left her skill at arms intact. If this was too easy, the drow may grow wise to his plan. Unlikely, but possible.

She drew the dead Fluffy and parried, putting herself on the defensive. With her left hand, she stabbed him with the fake Valiau syringe, which contained the concentrated essence of the black lotus extract, the spider venom, and the alcohol. The drow gripped his stomach where he’d been stabbed, but put himself to the attack again. She parried and stabbed him in the shoulder with the dead rapier, and he went down, dead or dying to the poison. She moved on…

Precious few minutes went by, the drow woman in his guise quick on the move. Suddenly, a strong man appeared behind her, and struck the back of her head with a sap. She refused to go down to the blow, instead turning to stab the man. He struggled with her and broke Fluffy’s blade with a hard strike from his other weapon, a flanged mace. She shot the fake valiau into his shoulder, and retreated. A brilliance covered the scrying mirror, and his look-alike went down, face first onto the volcanic rock floor as the lightning bolt dissipated. His clone was not yet dead… he’d made her more resilient than that.

The two drow nodded to another, but realized they still could not see through the fluttering petals and tiny leaves. One spoke very quietly, and they both bound and carted off the unconscious Omentus. Eight minutes later, her captors were nearing the crystal chamber.

OoC: Wow. If I ever want to get severely distrubed, I'll know right where to go...

BiC:

I was just about ready to hug Khaz for finding a passageway without any more foilage, though no one else seemed quite as happy about it as I was. (OoC: I'm assuming the magic didn't penetrate through doors, of course BiC: ) Without the leaves blocking everything in sight, my light was finally able to expand far enough to touch the walls of the passageways we walked through. While it was now easier to move around, I found that navigation was almost as impossible even without all the foilage. There were many doors and junctions leading into other dark passageways, just about everything looking the same.

How on earth can Khaz remember everything with such precision? How could he even come this far after all the trouble it had took the rest of us? Such a feat should have taken hours to accomplish, yet Khaz did it in a matter of minutes!

"You are incredible, Khaz. I can hardly tell which way is up or down in this awful place." It was nice that I could actually look at him now, see the kind expression that always hovered on his face. He was a much more impressive person than he gave himself credit for...

A sudden chill interrupted my thoughts, causing me to shiver involuntarily. It felt strange, unlike the dull cold I had come to expect, and it had come upon me so suddenly. It was likely some kind of dark magic, seeing as my companions did not appear to feel it, but I normally could not feel dark energy physically. Usually, such a thing was more of a faint aura, an invisible cloud that one could faintly see or smell. Anything that was dark enough to render such a reaction must be very strong magic somewhere nearby.

"Everyone be careful!" I whispered nervously, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth.

OoC: Is it Ommy, or is it not Ommy? That's for YOU to decide...

I shuddered as a wave of dark magic came pulsing through the coridors. I tried to lcoate the source, as it could be an enemy magician, but it was impossible to locate.

Damn wards...

I continued along with Rontu ahead, still muttering to myself. But this time I was worried about whatever casted the magic. If it was an enemy, I wasn't going down by some drow's trickery. I placed some wards around us that would alert us of anyone's approche. Assasin's we're far too common these days. In the distance, I heard the clash of swords, the cry of a man falling in battle, and numerous other sounds. It was far away though, I was surprised even my elvin ears could pick it up.

(OOC:Incredibly short post to the rescue! The villain approches. My internet was offline almost all day. >.< I'll try to post at least three times tomorow)

(OoC: Oh, it went through everything. Doors, walls, you name it. It covers an entire area, but if the spell doesn't think that somewhere is the same area as the rest of an area, then it won't go there.)

OoC: So, in other words, I don't have to edit my post, right?

(OoC: Right.)