If only those fools in the Arcanist's Tower could see me now, thought Ghural Dav as he poured a mixture of salt, sulfur, and uncounted other reagents into the circular depression. Within his mind, the cold, sneering looks of his old mentor, the woman's disdain that he could manage to control tanar'ri and baatezu without the use of powerful pacts. She might have been willing to barter away her soul, but he knew the pitfalls of putting one's existence in the hands of such evil beings.
No, Faerun is not missed at all, he mused as he lit the forty-seven black candles placed at the intersections of lines. There, he would still be an apprentice for years more, while here in Sigil he was free to follow the routes of investigation he wanted, and with a library to begaar that in Luskan! Lighting the incense on the floor surrounding his own position, he took a deep breath and calmed himself. The moment is finally here. I will gain the knowledge I want, the power I deserve, and return to Luskan the conquering hero! The power-mad magisters, the corrupt Lord Captains - all would be swept aside, paving the way for a new, bright future for the city of sails!
And the chanting begun. A mixture of Draconic and Abyssal rolled from his tongue, a drone that he effortlessly kept up for hours. A wrinkled parchment found its way into his lap, a voice in the back of his mind laughing at the foolish merchant who gave him this use-name for nearly nothing as he spoke forth the intricate pronunciation upon it.. and then the candles flared high, before the room suddenly plunged into unrelieved darkness.
He sat stone-still upon the floor, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, the candle flames came back to life, and the room was revealed. Within the circle, a hovering portal limned in flames, and before it...
He shook his head in shock at seeing the unclothed young halfling woman within, huddled upon the floor and shaking with fear, her bare skin crisscrossed with lashmarks and blood-seeping scratches. Forlorn eyes look up at him from within the circle, and the unlikely result of his summons spoke in a quivering voice. "Please sir, don't let them take me back! I'll do anything!"
And with that, his heart broke... and any chance of survival flew out the window. A quckly muttered word snuffed the open gate from existence, and as he ran to the aid of the pathetic figure within the circle, his slippered foot trod upon its circumferance, scattering the boundary. And as he stared down in disbelief, the halfling smiled widely, her injuries knitting and her eyes changing to a vivid, glowing yellow.
An hour later, the room was unrecognizable. Blood and viscera painted the walls and ceiling, but there was no sign of the body they came from. Only a smoking, charred spot on the floor gave any clue to what might have occurred here as the door closed behind the retreating form of the halfling.
And in a place so far from that room as to be not worth mentioning, Ghural Dav found himself lying upon a rocky valley floor, striated clouds of crimson and lavender scudding by overhead. With a struggle, he groggily looked about. My arm is over... yes, there. Yes, how nice of her to make certain it followed him! Oh, but the smell is so horrid. But I'm sure that was only a dream, seeing those hands ripping through skin, pulling out loops of intestine. No, this is simply a misunderstanding, and I'll have my wits about me in a moment. Wait, what is that on the ridge? Visitors, already? Oh, look, they're coming down. I must invite them to... dinner...
Sometimes, death from blood loss is a mercy.
Somewhere in the Hive...
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The dried viscera on the walls and floors was rendered black in the dim, flickering light of a single multiwicked candle, almost blending with the shifting shadows to create odd, expressionistic shapes throughout the room. Almost a hypnotic scene, one that despite its latent horrific accoutrements seemed perfect for soft slumber, for peacful repose, for romance. But such was not on the mind of the small figure stepping before the light, creating a lurid, inky black outline in its wake.
"Plot below and watch above, will that be enough, my love?" questioned the leather-clad female hin in a sing-song voice, as she paced from wall to wall, each circuit allowing her own shadow to touch every bit of the far wall, highlighting the slight motions coming from the shadowed beneath the tightly shuttered window. "The agent seems a likely one, but trust in mortals comes undone."
The shadow on the wall seemed to twist and semble, becoming larger and bulkier, and suddenly it was the sillouhette of a human female that strode the open stretch of floor, her voice deeper and more sultry, almost seeming to match the flowing evening gown that rippled with each step. "The agent is well-placed and eager to show usefulness. The potential rewards offered should ensure no hesitance. Remember, we did look within."
Another shift in form, and the form turned towards the candle, revealing the features of a tall, regal elfwoman in fine silken robes, bearing the features of a being in her middle years but showing a mature, knowing beauty nonetheless. A single step, and it stood at a small table, picking over an array of small devices of frightening form, speaking in a cultured and haughty tone. "Call me a realist, girls, but the agent is still mortal for now. We will still need to monitor its progress carefully to ensure its reliability."
Long-fingered hands shortened, gaining a slight greenish tone and barely visible scaly texture as they plucked up several small, thin blades and a pair of midnight-black gems. "Ssso what if she failsss? We can always ssstep in if need be. Ssservant becomes ssslave, and we can act and leave fassst enough to avoid Pain'sss attention." As the slim form of a yuan-ti pureblood in a long tunic slinked its way towards the far wall, its roundabout route allowed the candlelight to fall upon the faintly moving forms there, faint highlights fallling on quivering skin and reflections showing in two pairs of wide, fearful eyes.
As the shadow blocked the light once more, it grew and thickened, the bulky musculature of an orcish woman filling out yet seeming to enhance the figure's curves. A gruff, snarling voice sounded, the being's olive-hued eyes staring into empty space rather than looking down at the two low tables and their cunning array of straps, or the pair of humans, a man and woman, fastened inescapably within, even as the large, calloused fingers set the two large, black sapphires down on trembling bare flesh. "I say jus' send 'em both screamin' ta the Maw. An' then Red's pet vendor, ta boot. Nuttin' but scorches b'hind, an' no chance o' the sword-collar bitch's noticin' us."
A final shooting growth deformed the shadow again, thick orcish muscle softening to lush, feminine curves, dainty horns poking through hair now tumbled as if from sleep, and broad wings stretching to blot all light from the now wildly-struggling forms but the lambent glow of bright yellow eyes. A soft hand reached down to caress the male's cheek, paying no mind to the spastic twitches of the skin, the heaving breaths of terror, or the frenzied sounds coming from behind the thick wads of cloth strapped within mouths and distending jaws. "The decision is made." The new voice drips with honey, perhaps even imparting a sense of calm to the figures below. "Our agent will be allowed to act, and to earn its place among us. We will simply... watch and see." The figure gives a nod of finality, then looks down to purr hungrily at the man below her, smiling softly and lightly patting his cheek.
"Don't fret, sweetling. Your turn will come before you know it." A roll of the wrist as she turned to loom over the female caused the scalpel in her grip to catch the light before lowering to its artistic work. Even as the first shallow cut welled with blood, the gem resting on the woman's belly began to pulse with a fell light.
"Plot below and watch above, will that be enough, my love?" questioned the leather-clad female hin in a sing-song voice, as she paced from wall to wall, each circuit allowing her own shadow to touch every bit of the far wall, highlighting the slight motions coming from the shadowed beneath the tightly shuttered window. "The agent seems a likely one, but trust in mortals comes undone."
The shadow on the wall seemed to twist and semble, becoming larger and bulkier, and suddenly it was the sillouhette of a human female that strode the open stretch of floor, her voice deeper and more sultry, almost seeming to match the flowing evening gown that rippled with each step. "The agent is well-placed and eager to show usefulness. The potential rewards offered should ensure no hesitance. Remember, we did look within."
Another shift in form, and the form turned towards the candle, revealing the features of a tall, regal elfwoman in fine silken robes, bearing the features of a being in her middle years but showing a mature, knowing beauty nonetheless. A single step, and it stood at a small table, picking over an array of small devices of frightening form, speaking in a cultured and haughty tone. "Call me a realist, girls, but the agent is still mortal for now. We will still need to monitor its progress carefully to ensure its reliability."
Long-fingered hands shortened, gaining a slight greenish tone and barely visible scaly texture as they plucked up several small, thin blades and a pair of midnight-black gems. "Ssso what if she failsss? We can always ssstep in if need be. Ssservant becomes ssslave, and we can act and leave fassst enough to avoid Pain'sss attention." As the slim form of a yuan-ti pureblood in a long tunic slinked its way towards the far wall, its roundabout route allowed the candlelight to fall upon the faintly moving forms there, faint highlights fallling on quivering skin and reflections showing in two pairs of wide, fearful eyes.
As the shadow blocked the light once more, it grew and thickened, the bulky musculature of an orcish woman filling out yet seeming to enhance the figure's curves. A gruff, snarling voice sounded, the being's olive-hued eyes staring into empty space rather than looking down at the two low tables and their cunning array of straps, or the pair of humans, a man and woman, fastened inescapably within, even as the large, calloused fingers set the two large, black sapphires down on trembling bare flesh. "I say jus' send 'em both screamin' ta the Maw. An' then Red's pet vendor, ta boot. Nuttin' but scorches b'hind, an' no chance o' the sword-collar bitch's noticin' us."
A final shooting growth deformed the shadow again, thick orcish muscle softening to lush, feminine curves, dainty horns poking through hair now tumbled as if from sleep, and broad wings stretching to blot all light from the now wildly-struggling forms but the lambent glow of bright yellow eyes. A soft hand reached down to caress the male's cheek, paying no mind to the spastic twitches of the skin, the heaving breaths of terror, or the frenzied sounds coming from behind the thick wads of cloth strapped within mouths and distending jaws. "The decision is made." The new voice drips with honey, perhaps even imparting a sense of calm to the figures below. "Our agent will be allowed to act, and to earn its place among us. We will simply... watch and see." The figure gives a nod of finality, then looks down to purr hungrily at the man below her, smiling softly and lightly patting his cheek.
"Don't fret, sweetling. Your turn will come before you know it." A roll of the wrist as she turned to loom over the female caused the scalpel in her grip to catch the light before lowering to its artistic work. Even as the first shallow cut welled with blood, the gem resting on the woman's belly began to pulse with a fell light.
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*Ceremorph
- Posts: 1125
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Perfectly manicured nails scratched on the table as their fingers lightly sorted a collection of ten perfect black sapphires, arranging them into first rows, then a diamond shape, before gathering them back into a disordered pile.
Look over to the other hand. It rests palm up on the table, a larger amber-hued stone sitting within it, pulsing slowly and serving as the chamber's only illumination. The fingers twitch slightly, clenching and unclenching in time with the soft pulses.
Panning up, we see a face of unsurpassed beauty. Ruby lips parted in a half-smile, a faint yellow glow to the eyes, and features that would almost seem to be sculpted to meet the ideal of beauty for many races. The small horns on her forehead and the touseled mess of her hair might cast the comeliness as unnatural, but it matters not in an empty room.
This tableu holds for a long time, the lips twitching from time to time to silently speak words, until the gem's light fades and her eyes take on a more focused gleam, the smile widening to show startlingly white teeth. The gem is placed within her bodice as she stands, and her words to the room at large hold a cruel humor. "So, she wants me to remain inactive upon that. Nothing was said about plans that had already been set in motion..." The black gems soon join the amber one in its hidden cache.
It is the form of a tall elven woman that she wears as she leaves the small apartment, robed in finery and with perfectly coiffed, upswept hair. Before the door closes, the light from the hallway without illumines the forms lined up against the far walls, strategically placed long knives holding the figures of four halflings, one man, a woman and what would seem a young girl and boy, upright with the expressions of terror writ upon their features giving them an almost lifelike expression, belied only by the dead, lifeless eyes and the spreading pools of blood beneath them.
The door closes, and blessed darkness returns to the windowless room.
Look over to the other hand. It rests palm up on the table, a larger amber-hued stone sitting within it, pulsing slowly and serving as the chamber's only illumination. The fingers twitch slightly, clenching and unclenching in time with the soft pulses.
Panning up, we see a face of unsurpassed beauty. Ruby lips parted in a half-smile, a faint yellow glow to the eyes, and features that would almost seem to be sculpted to meet the ideal of beauty for many races. The small horns on her forehead and the touseled mess of her hair might cast the comeliness as unnatural, but it matters not in an empty room.
This tableu holds for a long time, the lips twitching from time to time to silently speak words, until the gem's light fades and her eyes take on a more focused gleam, the smile widening to show startlingly white teeth. The gem is placed within her bodice as she stands, and her words to the room at large hold a cruel humor. "So, she wants me to remain inactive upon that. Nothing was said about plans that had already been set in motion..." The black gems soon join the amber one in its hidden cache.
It is the form of a tall elven woman that she wears as she leaves the small apartment, robed in finery and with perfectly coiffed, upswept hair. Before the door closes, the light from the hallway without illumines the forms lined up against the far walls, strategically placed long knives holding the figures of four halflings, one man, a woman and what would seem a young girl and boy, upright with the expressions of terror writ upon their features giving them an almost lifelike expression, belied only by the dead, lifeless eyes and the spreading pools of blood beneath them.
The door closes, and blessed darkness returns to the windowless room.