Malcanthet reclined in the darkness, basking in the pulsing heart of madness that was the depths of the Abyss. The cavern was impossibly vast and almost completely filled with oily, ink colored saltwater. Ripples broke the sheen of the surface whenever droplets plunged from stalactites up above. The brine-filled air was cloying and filled with the heavy scents of noxious, corrupted wounds and rotting flesh. "I told you that subtlety was the proper option. Patience is a virtue, as they say."
The voice from the impenetrable murk was a low, guttural growl of the Abyssal tongue. Ancient and harsh, the syllables were weighted as if each one was a tomb door falling shut. It matched well the terrible malevolence that permeated every droplet of water, every inch of rock. Speak not to us of virtue.
"She finds moving closer to her nature to be appealing. The taint of the Abyss grows within her, offering her power. But I believe she is still two minds about it...just like her father," Malcanthet said, knowing that despite the protests there was a great deal of hidden interest. She continued, "The Spider Queen has not noticed, but the girl is young. Unproven. In time, provided she is not consumed by the power of the Abyss, I think she will make a great many people sit up and take notice."
The water bulged and swelled as what was beneath moved closer. A long forked tail covered in snake-like scales abruptly broke the surface of the water in a spray of foul, decay-filled liquid. Lloth! Spreading her venom, claiming what is ours! Ours!
"Be calm," Malcanthet said soothingly, sitting on the slime-covered stones that made up the gray shore. "She will recognize your power in time. She need not be an enemy when she shares a love of chaos and destruction."
The thrashing tail calmed and submerged again towards the putrid silt of the unfathomable depths. Could crush. Rend. Tear. Devour. But yes, use. Using is best.
Malcanthet smiled. She had made many enemies over the timeless aeons as she moved steadily upward through echelons of power through schemes and plays for favor. The Prince of Demons was one of the few allies she had that could claim truly to wield vast power and so to please him was wise. It took work, but she had not crossed him yet and had no intention of doing so in the near future. "Very well."
A brief flicker of four yellow, baleful eyes near the surface of the stagnant water told her that the audience was over. As suddenly as he had appeared for her, he was gone.
Malcanthet rose, nose wrinkling slightly down at the grime that had clung to her alabaster skin. But such was the price to pay for the satisfaction of knowing she had proved herself again useful. Her thoughts as she walked settled again on the subject of their brief conversation-Valyne. The young drowess was struggling with herself fiercely at the Academy, trying to reign herself in. It was beautiful to watch-such frustration, such bitterness. The girl inhabited a dreadful trap where she feared her demonic tendencies as they were stirred up by binding yet needed them to succeed.
Val flinched out of the way of a falling rock shaken loose by the sounds of combat echoing through the halls behind them. It was a test arranged by their instructors, but one that might as well have been real. The well-armed slaves they were fighting had been promised freedom if they were victorious, even to the point of killing the students. After all, why reward weakness? She grabbed the arm of one of her companions, a small and wiry priestess named Kiaran, and pulled her out of the way of more rubble. "We need to go back for the others!" she shouted as the aftershocks faded. "They're outnumbered!"
Kiaran nodded, panting for breath after their last battle. However, she was not the priestess in charge. That pleasure fell to Ryna Faen Tlabbar, who whirled on them furiously. "I am not risking the rest of us for a few fools," she hissed out.
Val bristled slightly. "You fear the enemy solely because they're monstrous," she said ferociously, meeting the priestess's glare with an equal determination. "We have the numbers to easily win."
"No one asked you, mage. If they die, it's their own fault. The Goddess does not spare the weak, nor should we," Ryna said flatly. She expected the mage to simply back down.
Instead, Val seemed even more resolute. "Fine, if you won't go to them, then I will," she said with a ferocity that surprised even her. "You don't leave your soldiers behind, Ryna. If they're loyal to you, you'd better damn well be loyal to them." She turned on her heel and stalked back the way they had come.
She heard footsteps approaching her quickly and tensed, at least until Kiaran's familiar voice spoke up. "What, can't a girl sign up for some fun?" the priestess said with a crooked smile.
Kiaran was not very powerful as priestesses went, but unlike most she was very willing to admit it. She excelled working with groups of others, allowing them to shore her up where she was weak and returning the favor when they needed it. The lack of arrogance and desire to dominate had been what drew Val into a friendship with the cleric.
Val smiled. "At least I'm not alone." She turned at the sound of more feet following. A handful of the male drow warriors had come as well. She recognized their faces from the previous weeks of mingling with Melee-Magthere and Arach-Tinilith students. Many of them had friends or even lovers among the others that were probably being decimated. "If we hurry, we can do this," she said firmly.
It was about two minute's run before they broke out to the open cavern where pandemonium had erupted. The force of drow students had been pushed back to a corner, most of them wounded as a swarm of goblinoids ate away at their defenses. Maybe, maybe if the whole group had been here their rescue would have looked easy. However, things looked grim with how few reinforcements there were.
"Val, we can't take that many," Kiaran said, gripping her sword more tightly. Her fear was reflected in the faces of the others.
Val considered their position. An overwhelming force of bugbears, orcs, trolls, and goblins could be routed if they were frightened. They needed a large shock and heavy casualties in a short amount of time. The defenders needed fresh bodies to take over for the wounded so that they could catch their breath and regroup.
"Kiaran, take the others to rally with our folks down there," Val said firmly. "Cut a path. I'll create a diversion, keep them off you until you can get everyone moving to rejoin the others. Once you get them to the passage, I'll meet up with you."
"One drow isn't going to draw them away," one of the warriors said, gripping his mace more tightly. "They'll kill you."
"It won't be one drow," she said. Then she slapped his shoulder in a companionable way. "Besides, if I get killed, you can be the pretty one."
The sudden humor broke through the apprehension of the drow rescue party and they all readied themselves for the charge to the rescue ahead. "We can do this, right?" Kiaran said nervously, glancing over at Val.
"We are drow. Nothing out there is anywhere near as dangerous as we are," Val said. She gave the priestess a gentle push. "Go. Just get them out of there and everything will be fine."
Once the others had started making the descent, she stood on the edge of the precipice that formed the overlook and took a deep breath. Then she closed her eyes and opened herself to the taint of the Abyss in her blood, reaching deeper and deeper. A shuddering warmth filled her, growing in intensity until she felt her whole body burning like a furnace. Her fingers stretched and cracked, frissons of pain running up her arm as they twisted and hardened into sharp demonic claws. The power rushed in like a tidal wave, barely kept in check by her twitching body. She felt her jaw crack as teeth lengthened into fangs.
The smells of blood and smoke filled her nose, whipping the slumbering hunger up into an unholy fury. She let out a roar in Abyssal that shattered across the battlefield and drew the attention of drow and goblinoid alike to her. And then, she launched herself out and off the ledge without a thought to the twenty foot fall.
The drowess smashed into the ground on her feet, feeling only the euphoria of binding. The demon was not subservient to her in her body-it was a part of her, working in tandem with her just as her muscles worked alongside her bones. Val moved among the foe like a fury, tearing into every victim with her razor-like claws. Bugbear weapons wounded her, slicing into the flesh of her arms, her legs, running across her ribs, but nothing stopped her. Instead she growled in a rage and lashed out or laughed openly at the futility of their struggles as she choked the life out of one or ripped a limb from another.
Was this what it felt like to be a god? Why had she ever hidden this, run from it? Every nerve in her body felt as though it glowed with life. She was drunk on the exhilaration, the power that flowed through her fingertips. The bloodlust fueled her enjoyment, adding a wash of good feeling to her mind and body whenever she pinned a struggling victim and ever so slowly peeled them apart. To be demonic was to be unstoppable.
"Val! Val!" A voice in the distance was calling to someone...someone familiar. No, to her. Val suddenly realized with a cold horror that she had forgotten her name.
It took a Herculean force of will to drag herself back away from the screaming, panicked former slaves and towards the sound of her name. As she went, she forced herself to shut away the link to the Abyss and banish the demon.
A strange, bleak gray numbness filled her world. Even the sounds of battle and her name being shouted seemed as though they were happening far away, to someone else. Only her pain kept her from just sliding to the ground and lying there, unmoving. She had to touch herself all over to realize what had happened, fingers ghosting from unmarred skin to wet patches of blood coming from open tears in her flesh. The pain when she hit a wound was like a jolt of lightning, suddenly anchoring her back to herself. She heard Kiaran call her name again and slammed her fist against the gash on her thigh. The powerful flash of agony gave her enough feeling to push through the apathy and move forward again.
"What in the Demonweb was that?" Kiaran said, grabbing her friend. There was a strange hollowness to Val's eyes that worried her. She slung one of the mage's arms over her shoulders to help her along. "Nevermind, we're out. What now?"
Val blinked at Kiaran like the priestess was a dream for a moment. Then another throb of pain from her wounded leg as she tried to step down knocked her back to lucid awareness. "Vandree, Alaenrahel, take rearguard. Double time to meet the others. Expect pursuit," she said sharply, imitating her mother's command voice as best she could. It seemed to work-people started moving like she'd said.
"Ryna's going to be pissed," Kiaran muttered, casting a spell of healing on the leg that was slowing Val down.
"Well, some things stay the same, at least," Val said with a wan smile, a humor that she didn't really feel still hanging in her voice.
"Mind if I ask why we did go back? Not that I mind. It's just...not what I expected from a noble," Kiaran admitted. She was a commoner by birth, but her family had held a favor from their house's line of nobility that secured her future at the Academy.
"You look after your own," Val said with a slight shrug.
