Disclaimer and Note: I do not own The Forgotten Realms, Neverwinter Nights, Dungeons and Dragons, or anything along those lines. This story takes place shortly after the fall of Undrentide in the first Neverwinter Nights expansion; Shadows of Undrentide. I'm writing this, because I have to admit, I was sorely dissappointed with SoU's ending. Hope you enjoy.
Neverwinter Nights: Plane of Shadows
With the Mythallar destroyed, Undrentide lost it's ability to stay afloat. The massive rock on which the city sat began to list towards the ground as gravity's icy hand took hold once more.
"FOOL!" Heurodis shouted to Kyyranna. "This city will fall! What have you done! You'll kill us both!" She shouted, a panicked hiss in her voice.
"I'd worry more about your own safety, Medusa. I'll make it out. The one question you must ask yourself is: Is there a spot in Hell reserved for you, or do you have to wait in line like everyone else!" The Drow shouted, drawing her scythe up from the crunched remains of the final Mythallar pylon. "And besides, with the source of your power gone, doesn't that make you blind?" She sneered. The Medusa began looking around frantically. It was as Kyyranna predicted.
They Mythallar had provided her with the ability to see without eyes. And for it, she had forfeited her eyesight for eternity. With the power core of Undrentide gone, so was her superpowers. Kyyranna snuck around to the back of Heurodis very quietly, trying to get into position.
"Where are you! I shall kill you for this! The flesh from your bones will make a nice scarf!" She shouted, bolting her head around.
"Right behind you." The sly Drow hissed behind her snake-laden head. Heurodis froze in terror. With a great thrust, Kyyranna impaled the sharp end of her scythe into her chest. The force of the blow split her ribcage in half, killing her instantly. A sick look of appeasement crossed the Elf's face. Another thud. By her best guess, she had precious seconds to make a decision before all Hell broke loose. Frantically, she dumped the contence of her pack open onto the ground and began to search. So much useless junk!
"Boss! Boss! Deekin thinks city is falling! Deekin thinks Deekin and Boss need to leave!" The tiny Kobold called from the corner Kyyranna had put him in an attempt to keep him alive.
"I'm working on it, Deekin!" She shouted back, her hand gracing the Portable Door she found earlier. "Scratch that! I got it! Come here!" She ordered. The little Kobold, all to happy to comply, scampered up next to Kyyranna. "Hold on, Deekin, this is gonna be rough." She told him as she began reading the scripture on the Portable Door's frame. Almost as if it were a conditioned reaction, a huge stone gate appeared before her. Wasting no time, Kyyranna grabbed Deekin by the scruff of the neck, threw the door open and tossed him in. She looked up to see part of the wall explode. The force of the blast picked the Red Dragon Disciple off of the ground and carried her fifteen feet away, the Astral Door slamming shut. Almost without hitting the ground, Kyyranna pushed off with a huge heave from her feet, and propelled herself against gravity towards the shut Astral Door. In a swift movement, she grabbed the handle, flung the door wide open, and jumped in, just as the city made contact with the sands below.
The trip to the Plane of Shadows was less then comfortable or enjoyable. The Drow Elf floated silently through the darkness, her fate uncertain. Where was Deekin? Just as she began to search for the little Kobold, she remembered one of the first few lessons Master Drogan taught her about Astral Doors. Once opened, the door will lead the user to the same place so long as the door remains open. Once shut, it's a crap-shoot where you'll end up. She just hoped Deekin was safe...
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud and the sensation of her body mass hitting the ground.
"Argh!" She managed to grunt out. She could sense no one around. Weakly, she managed to place her arms under her chest and push, giving her just the push she needed to sit upright. "Where the..." She muttered, holding her head.
"Welcome, Sojourner." A cold voice greeted her with nothing it it's tone in the way of enjoyment or, thankfully so, scorn. It took Kyyranna some time to regain her bearings, but after doing so, she noticed who owned the voice. It was a tall figure dressed in a jet black robe with a hood of the same hue. His face was metallic with a mirror finish, making any facial feature scans near impossible.
"Who are you!" She snapped towards the figure as she fully regained consciousness. "Better question..." She corrected herself, looking at the creature's face. "WHAT are you?"
"I am called the Reaper, Sojourner, and I welcome you to my realm." The figure spoke again, never flinching from his spot. Kyyranna peeked past him some, to see what was behind him. "Reaper? Like, The GRIM Reaper? Mistress Death?" She questioned. The figure known as the Reaper shook his head emotionlessly.
"Mistress Death is the One who reaches out to those whose time it is to die. My purpose is to make sure those who do die know where to go. Similar, however very different. However, you have come to my realm on a different note, have you not, Kyyranna Anasi?" The Reaper spoke. Kyyranna nodded.
"Yea, I was escaping the Falling Undrentide when I—Wait. How do you know my name?" The Drow Red Dragon Disciple questioned, her eyes reflecting her confusion.
"I am the Reaper. Knowledge of the dead is my job. Not a one dead soul has passed through here that I have not known everything about." He responded, the cold tone fading ever so slightly from his voice. "You, of all, I should know, Kyyranna Anasi, as you have directed more souls my way then any man in the past. You are a friend of both Mistress Death and myself." Although he spoke fondly of Kyyranna, there was something amiss.
"Wait...am I...dead?" She asked, a hand clasping over her heart. The Reaper only nodded. "Ah, well shit. Ain't that a bitch? Tell me Reaper, what happened to Deekin?" Kyyranna questioned, her thought fading to the cute Kobold that's been at her heels this entire time.
"The Kobold lives. Your valient efforts to save him paid off, and he is now safe in Neverwinter. Which, might I add, is where you would have ended up, should you not have violated the first rule of Astral Plane travel."
"And what's that?" She questioned, still trying to comprehend that she was dead.
"Never shut the door...until you're finished with it." A smile almost formed on the Reaper's mirrored lips. Kyyranna cursed under her breath.
"So, I guess this is the part where you show me where to go, where to sign in, how much blood I should use as ink, the like."
"No. That is not your fate as of yet, Kyyranna Anasi. Your fate is much deeper then you dying in the last, faded sputtering of an ancient city as it falls silently to the ground. You need to live; for the moment. Your fate has already been etched into the marble of destiny. But fear not, eventually, soon, you shall get to leave here with me for all eternity." His hood twitched. "Behind me, you shall see The Pool of Lost Souls. Within it, you shall find an artifact of limitless power. Collect it, and the gem beside it, and I shall grant you passage to where your Kobold friend is."
"That's it? I have to get my hands a little wet to live again? Oh, hell I'm all for that!" Kyyranna smiled, cracking her knuckles and striding towards the pool.
"However, Sojourner, there is a catch. The Pool of Lost Souls will not give you the Artifact; you must purchase it. You must part with something of equal value to attain the Artifact. And, you will have no choice in what it will take, The Pool of Lost Souls will take what it wishes. And nothing you can do will stop it." The Reaper grinned. Kyyranna sighed heavily.
"Why is there always a catch? Why?" She snapped at herself, walking back to the pool, her head held high.
The Pool of Lost Souls was an odd, yet glorious thing, indeed. The water itself was a thick viscous liquid, almost like kerosene, or maybe even sludge, however clear as day. Ripples could be seen breaking the surface and making a mad escape for the freedom of the air, only to be stopped by the cold, hard stone of the pool. Below the thick water, she could see a small spherical object laying on the bottom, with four blood-red gems strewn around it in a cross pattern. Wiping the sweat from her palms, the Drow began to motion for the pool, inching closer cautiously. Before any part of her charcoal-black skin touched the surface, a hand broke the surface violently and grasped hold of the edge. Surprised, Kyyranna jumped back, a slight yelp escaping her lips.
The Red Dragon Disciple watched as a second hand arose and gripped the stonework pool. She crept closer as the hands pulled a figure from the pool, the figure of a thin, tall woman with skin made of water. She pulled herself and out of the water, landing on the cold stone floor with a dull splash. Kyyranna stood strong, the burning scythe firm in her hand, ready for anything. The aquatic woman looked her over indifferently. She began to walk closer, a distinquished grace to her stride. Nervous, Kyyranna raised the Scythe in a defensive motion. The woman, unphased, got right into Kyyranna's face, and looked at her. The figure then reached out her hands, clasped on on the handle of her scythe, and the other onto the armor on her back, and with a great pull, wrenched both of them from her possession. With a screech, the figure executed a back-flip into the pool. Still stunned, Kyyranna never noticed the artifact which had materialized in her hand in her Scythe's lew.
"The Relic of the Reaper, is yours, Sojourner." The Reaper muttered with a sly smile. "I now return you home." With a wave of his hand, the Reaper teleported the Elf back to her home in Hilltop.
"Great. Just freakin great. Dump me out in the snow stark naked, will you. Ugh, remind me never to die again..." She muttered, standing.