A Drow's Tale: Chapter One
Summary: Four drow rogues come together to wreak havoc upon the surface…the story of Donnia Soldou, Kaer'lic Suun Wett, Ad'non Kareese and Tos'un Armgo, as told by me.
Warnings: Hopefully you should all know by now that I like my elf smut. I promise plenty of it in this story- and in a story with Donnia and Ad'non, the two horniest drow in existence, what else would you expect? There will also be gore, because they are drow, after all.
Disclaimer: I do not own any drow, which is probably a good thing for my health and safety. They belong to Mr. Salvatore, and I'm merely borrowing them for a little while…without permission.
I know I have other stories to work on, but this is another idea that really would not leave me alone! Ahem. So, here we go…
The nightly brawl had yet to start in the tavern, though the crowded room was hardly quiet. Most of the clientele were goblinoids of one sort or another, but there were also a few duergar, and a good smattering of drow. There was music, of a sort, being played by some bugbears in a corner, and overall the scene was not that different from any of the seedy taverns of the surface world- just not so well lit.
Safely ensconced in the darkest corner two male dark elves surveyed the room, sipping without much enthusiasm at their drinks. This place was not known for the quality of its liquor.
"He's late," one remarked bitterly, pulling his piwafwi tighter about his shoulders. The other male nodded, acknowledging that he'd heard his companion, but offered no other response.
The minutes ticked by and the first male began to fidget, but stilled at a sharp glance from the second.
A lithe, well-cloaked figure padded silently down the stairs which led into the seedy bar, observed by the two males. The newcomer ordered a drink and chatted with the barkeep for a minute or two before making his round-about way to the pair in the corner.
He didn't offer a greeting, just plopped into an empty seat, leaning back comfortably and letting his boots rest on the table.
"You're-" one male started to say.
"Late, I know. You were followed. I had to remedy the problem."
The newcomer flicked his wrist and a trio of tokens- emblems of drow houses- clattered onto the table.
Despite themselves, both males were impressed, and regarded the newcomer with just a hint of trepidation.
"You have my money?"
The impatient, fidgetty male nodded, pulling a plump purse from his belt. "Half now and half when the job is done," he said hesitantly, laying the purse on the table.
Pearly white teeth gleamed in the darkness of the newcomer's cowl.
"As agreed."
"Here is your assignment," said the second male, handing over a rolled sheaf of parchments. "We will contact you when the deed is done to arrange the rest of your payment."
The newcomer tucked both purse and parchments safely away, quaffed the remainder of his drink, and stood, all in one fluid motion.
"Gentleman!" he declared, hands spread wide. "I take my leave."
And just like that, he was gone.
oOo
Outside, perched safely out of the way of prying eyes, Ad'non Kareese unrolled the parchments, using the faint glow from the tavern's magically illuminated sign to read the details of his next 'assignment'. Ad'non was still young, by the standards of the drow, not yet into his fifth decade, but his reputation as a thief and assassin of considerable prowess was well-earned.
He scanned the documents thoroughly, licking his lips nervously. This was by far the hardest kill he had ever been contracted to make, but if he could pull it off…well, the rewards would be great. The first half of his payment, dangling heavily from his belt, was already more than he had earned from any two of his previous contracts put together.
An assassination and a theft. The target was a priestess of a minor house, but high in the favour of Lolth. Once she was dead he was to take an item- a necklace made of faerie bones- from her body and bring it to his client as proof of the deed. That seemed simple enough. Rolled up with his instructions was a detailed map of the house- even a rather good sketch of his target.
Ad'non had all the tools of his trade with him, so he set off for the targeted house without delay, knowing the sooner his task was accomplished the less chance of his intended victim inconveniently learning of the plot against her life before he got there.
He moved swiftly along the web-streets of Ched Nasad, knowing just when it was best to saunter nonchalantly down the middle of the street, and just when it was best to slip unseen through the shadows.
To the drow male's Underdark-bred eyes the webs which supported the noble houses were brightly lit with faerie fire of many hues. He thought it somewhat gaudy, but he'd always been a bit of an unconventional thinker. He was a good little drow child of Lolth, of course- if he wasn't the priestesses would soon know and deal with that problem- but he'd never been as impressed by positions of power or material possessions as most drow.
Ad'non lived for the fun of the chase. It was one of the reasons he was so desired as a contractual thief- he wasn't the sort to keep whatever item of great value he'd been sent to fetch for himself (something which frequently happened where hired drow thieves were concerned) To be seen to honour one's contracts had been ever-so-good for keeping Ad'non in steady supply of business.
Having reached the right house it was but the work of a moment to slip past the perimeter guards and onto the roof of the cocoon-like structure. Ad'non ran swiftly along the roof, glancing quickly at his map to make sure he had the right part of the house. From a sheathe on his belt he drew a long knife with a wickedly-edged, jagged blade. The edge glinted silvery-blue as he stabbed down into the structure. The exterior of the house was made of a magically hardened spider's silk, and was as strong as the hardest stone, but the magic blade cut through it like it was soft rothe-cheese.
In just a few short minutes he had a drow-sized hole in the roof.
Dropping lightly into the luxurious bedroom of the targeted priestess the drow assassin carefully replaced the cut away piece of ceiling, so that no light would shine through and inadvertently alert his prey.
Then, safely concealed in a hole cut into her mattress, Ad'non settled down to wait.
oOo
Ang'ayne Tor'duis stalked moodily into her chamber, kicking and punching at any unfortunate piece of furniture that got in her way. She hated to be scolded by her mother in front of her younger sisters! It was so undignified!
Still, she supposed she had deserved the lecture. She had gotten House Tor'duis into rather a lot of trouble, after all. Though it wasn't really her fault- the stupid male had never told her who he was! If he was truly determined she was sure he could have bitten through the gag, but obviously he was just lazy. And it wasn't as if she had done permanent damage to any particularly important parts.
Not that a very angry Matron Mother had appreciated having a few decorative scars added to her prized Elderboy. Really, Ang'ayne was lucky her mother had been able to smooth things over- though she doubted her mother would ever let her forget it!
Snarling, she threw herself on the bed, pummeling one of her many plush pillows. It just wasn't fair! No body ever wanted to let her have any fun!
Hidden in the mattress, Ad'non only just managed to suppress his cry of pain when the huge female (and Ang'ayne was built in roughly the same shape as a primitive human fertility goddess) thumped on top of him, her knee ramming right into his diaphragm. Luckily she was so caught up in her tantrum that she didn't immediately notice the unusual warmth and drow-like consistency of her bed, giving the assassin time to stab her twice in the belly with his magic blade.
The plump priestess was wearing magical armour, of course, but the magic in the jagged blade was stronger, and punched right through, tearing a great gash in her soft belly. Ang'ayne squealed with pain, scrambling off the bed and doing her best to get away on all fours.
If Ad'non had not been quite so winded the female would have been doomed, but as it was the flattened male took several seconds to regain his breath and worm his way free of his hidey-hole. Despite her pain Ang'ayne was as fast as any priestess when it came to wielding her snake-headed whip, and four sets of sharp fangs caught the assassin in the chest and shoulder as he pulled free. Snarling, still confident of victory, Ad'non stalked forward.
Desperate, the priestess struck. She lost two of the heads from her whip, but the other two struck squarely on the advancing male's face, staggering him back a step. Knowing it was a matter of life or death Ang'ayne refused to relinquish the advantage, cracking the whip furiously with one hand while she waggled the fingers of the other in a quick spell.
There was a reason Ad'non had been offered so much money to kill this female- she may have been excessively hedonistic even by the standards of the drow, and not the brightest girl either, but she was powerful. The male cried out and clutched at his stomach, reeling back as, with one last arcane word, the priestess transferred her wounds to his own flesh, leaving her completely unharmed.
Seeing victory slip beyond his reach the now-gravely-injured male played his trump card. He pulled a fistful of sparkly pink-purple powder from a belt pouch and threw it in the air as another spell- this one a sparking green lightning bolt- smacked hard into his aching body. The powder fell, twinkling, over him. Poor Ad'non thought he was doomed anyway, the priestess let loose another lightning bolt, and it was arcing straight for his face-
Then he was back on the roof, just in the nick of time. Clutching a hand to his torn belly he fled as fast as he possibly could, hearing the cries of alarm beginning to sound out from the house beneath his feet.
oOo
Having managed to evade pursuit for the moment the assassin curled up in the most out-of-the-way hole he could find, scrabbling frantically at his belt as he felt the heat of his own blood oozing over his hand. Finally he found the vial he was looking for, quaffing the contents in one huge gulp. Instantly he began to feel better as the healing potion went straight to work, and in a few minutes he was able to emerge once more onto the streets of Ched Nasad, scurrying along furtively.
He would stop in at his meagre little bedroom and collect the few possessions he did not have on him, and then he would have to go into hiding.
He could not believe he had failed! And at such an important task!
That the priestess he had just failed to kill would try and hunt him down, he was sure of. That the house that had hired him to kill her would want him permanently silenced, he was sure.
He had to leave the city, he decided. That would be the only way to stay safe. But for a trip through the Underdark he needed supplies- and preferably companions. Even a fighter of Ad'non's prowess (and he was hardly feeling confident in his own abilities just at the moment) dared not travel the corridors of the Underdark alone.
Still, he knew in which taverns he might find a group- a merchant caravan, perhaps, or a band of slavers- that would be willing enough to sign him up.
After all, he had a massive amount of gold in his purse with which to butter them up.
oOo
I know lightning bolts are probably more a wizardly thing than a clerical thing, but Ang'ayne is just the bestest, and can do as she wants, ok? (Please don't make her angry!)
I spent some time with a drow name chart I found on a site called 'Descent Into Darkness: Drow Campaign and Resource Centre', and 'Ang'ayne' should roughly translate as 'Savage Lunatic' and 'Tor'duis' as 'Mistresses of the Whip'. Just in case you wanted to know…