This story takes place after a failed raid by the Ninth House on the Eighth House. These Houses may or may not be of Menzoberranzan, the Eighth House is not House Do'Urden and the Vierna in here is not Vierna Do'Urden :D I didn't make that obvious at all; my sincerest apologies :D Thanks to the reviewer who not only was nice and complimented me, but also alerted me to this oversight on my part :)
She ended her levitation spell, touching down on the floor of the great hall. Mace drawn, she surveyed the huge room. The colossal stone pillars that supported the rest of the house were intact and stable, if bloodstained. Corpses littered the floor and leaned against the pillars. The dead drow's glassy eyes seemed to stare at her, accusing.
She heard a hoarse rasp from one of the supposedly expired soldiers. He was trembling, blood running down his chin. A spear of some sort was lodged in his stomach. The slim drow priestess knelt by him and slit his throat in one deft movement.
"Lady Vierna!" The commander of the guard, Alak, yelled from the hallway. "I'm taking the fourth regiment to the outside. It seems clear in here."
"Alright!" she shouted back. She heard him leave, heard him barking orders at his boys. She stood alone in the huge, empty hall and felt like crying. Her mother was in the chapel, thanking Lolth for their victory. Her older sister was most likely at this moment telling the matron of the First House what had transpired. Vierna thought of the matron of the Ninth House and her daughters, sitting somewhere in their fortress (probably the chapel), waiting for Justice to be carried out.
"You idiots," she muttered. "Why did you have to attack us?" She looked at the bodies strewn around the floor like rat carcasses in a lizard's stall. "Look what you've done.." She took a deep, shuddering breath."Weakling," whispered her mother in her head "So much promise, but you can't..."
Vierna swallowed hard. Have to prove myself. Have to become stronger. Don't think about the others, just think about myself. She spun her mace over in her hand and headed for the exit.
Her elven ears caught a tiny sound and she froze. Her hand gripped the mace and she held a spell ready in her mind. Vierna turned around.
A slender male stood behind her. He held a scepter of some sort in his right hand, and Vierna could sense the power emanating from it. There was a cocky grin on his face, but his eyes burned with such furious hatred that any kind of cool, laid-back impression he might have made vanished. He was dangerous, the girl recognized.
He stalked towards her, purposeful and confident. Not from the Ninth House. Not from this city. She saw the amulet hanging around his neck, engraved with the symbol of Vhaerun. He was Vhaerunite, then, not cowed, not weak. He stood about ten feet away from her now, this renegade male with his scepter.
He lifted the weapon in one hand and chanted something. Pain greater than she had ever known flashed through the dark elf girl. She heard an animal scream come from faraway. She choked, knew she was dying...little hands brushed her arms, murmuring in garbled voices.
Then it was gone as suddenly as it had come...a red nimbus of light burst forth from her, spells stood out starkly in her mind. "So much promise..." If only her mother had known. Vierna could feel the energy flowing through her and she heard a clear, silky voice in her mind, "Get him."Lolth...
"You!" yelled the Vhaerunite. "You are Lolth's chosen! Do you know why I've come here?" He did not seem dissuaded by her apparent immunity to his spell. "I've come here to kill you!"
He wasn't just angry, Vierna saw it. He hated her, with every fiber of his being. What does Vhaerun teach them?
"What does Vhaerun teach us?" yelled the male. He can read my mind... "Vhaerun only gave me power!" He was quiet then and he glared at Vierna, his face contorting as his muscles worked furiously. "Vhaerun.." his voice was very quiet now, "Vhaerun didn't teach me to hate. You did, you and your Goddess. Who in the Nine Hells do you think you are?" His voice began rising again, "You think you can beat me? You think I'm stupid? You think that I'm just some idiot rebel male you can kill in a second? Chosen of Lolth? I don't care! That's why they picked me. I'm not afraid. I'm never going to be afraid again!"
Vierna realized she could kill him. His scepter was strong and he was strong, but not as strong as her. Not as strong as Lolth. She blocked her mind to him.
"Do you know what it's like?" he asked. He actually gave her a few seconds to reply, but then continued. "Of course not! How can you know what it's like? To be treated like filth, because of something you never had any control over? To cry yourself to sleep at night when you're a child, because you think that you're worthless? To live your life in fear and pain, unable to rest, unable to find any measure of pride or comfort? Of course you don't know what it's like!"
Vierna found a spell that would numb his magic. She had never heard of it before, but she knew that if she tried to cast it, the words would flow off her tongue as easily as the spell for a basic fireball. Who could even imagine such power? Lolth had given her a gift that anyone would die for. She could have anything. She could conquer this city. She could conquer the Underdark. The world would serve her, they would have no choice, she was the Chosen of Lolth, written in ancient prophecies...the world would tremble.
Only this single male stood before her. This pathetic, weakling, fool.
"I got away though," he was saying. His voice had dropped again. "I got away from you. I worked hard, so hard...because at least then it mattered. I have given my everything to be here today, to kill you. And I will." He raised his scepter and Vierna struck him with her spell before he could act. The scepter dropped and so did he.
Vhaerun is nothing compared to Lolth. The Vhaerunite drew a huge, shuddering gasp. He was shocked. His fingers twitched. Moisture welled up in his eyes and a sob choked out of his throat.
"Where's your little god now?" Vierna heard herself say. Her voice was cruel and cold and full of bloodthirst and hearts clutched in a spider-knife and children lying dead like...rats in a lizard's stall? It was the voice of her mother, her sisters, the voice of Lolth, the voice of evil. Lolth's Chosen...
He was hurt, she thought, looking at the boy on the floor. All of the beatings, all of the strikes, every single injury throughout his life had never hurt this much.
"Nothing," he said. His voice was tortured, strangled, full of raw suffering. "I did nothing. I could do nothing." Weakling... "Weakling," he said, echoing her thoughts even though he could no longer read them. "That's all I ever was." He was trembling, part fear, part grief.
And then he died.
He was going to the Abyss, Vierna knew. To face his punishment at the hands of Lolth. Vhaerun could not save him, and perhaps He would not try. The rebel had tried and tried and tried, and it was never good enough. He had persevered through pain, both physical and mental, that she could never imagine. He had come so far and it had been so easy for her to destroy allhis dreams and all his beliefs.
She sat down beside him, lowered her head and cried inside. She was not aware of time passing.
"Vierna," her mother's voice. "Vierna. I knew you had promise, but never this much. And I see you have learned what it means to follow Lolth." Vierna looked up at her mother's face. She saw grudging respect, with of course a little hatred mixed in. "Chosen of Lolth, I will follow you." And her mother knelt.
Vierna got up stiffly. She felt like she was a thousand years old. "Chosen of Lolth?" Tongues of white hot anger ran beneath her skin. She felt like screaming, or crying, but she held it in. "I don't care." And Lolth's beloved Chosen turned and walked away.
This is pretty much an experimental thing (just a random idea I had), which is why the background for the story is not very well thought out.Sorry for that, but thanks muchly for reading and pweeease review! (And in the future, I gotta remember not to name my weird characters after R.A. Salvatore's:D)