Disclaimer: You are not your job; you're not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the books you write, you are not the cubicle you sit at. You're not your tea addiction! You are the all-supporting all-stressing tech of the world!
Dislexic: I have trouble typing with the keyboard I have at work, I keep making so many mistakes it's not funny. This never happens at home.
Irenicus: Sounds like workplace syndrome.
Dislexic: Is there a cure?
Irenicus: Well, I got around it by decorating my workplace with the bodies of the elves of Suldenessellar. Made me feel more at home.
Dislexic: Ah! So if I go out and hunt down the people I support over the phone, kill them and bring their body parts back to work to decorate my cube, it will brighten the place up?
Irenicus: I guarantee you will feel far more at ease with a few heads on pikes. They serve as a firm reminder to you of he power you have over every whiny, computer-illiterate "I want what I want now because I'm a paying customer and I'm smarter then you" ID10Ts out there.
Dislexic: You've done tech support before, haven't you? Anyway, I guess I'd better announce my new website! Yet another product of my over-abundant spare time (that's sarcasm dripping from that sentence). It's under constant revision and construction, so it's not done yet.
You know what sucks about having your own server?
Nothing!
In response to Kaltia's post,
Congratulations! You are the first person to review this chapter. You get a special prize of….. Hmm…. Well, I poem or something. Anyway, I have this phobia about Humans. You see, normal people scare me. Also, they're very hard to get along with; Human females all have attitude problems. However, every anime I've seen with alien females in it all seem pretty easy-going, even when they're brandishing their multi-pronged weapons of mass probing at you. Besides, Ruto is human enough if you take away the fins, gills, blue skin, aquatic environment and add some hair and maybe… MAYBE some clothes, but that's optional.
Besides, ever seen Reboot? You know… that computer-animated show on Toonami? AndrAIa was quite the fish herself, but she was known to be hot.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
All love, all trust is foolish. Or so I thought.
If my sisters could see me now they would flay the skin off my back for being so weak. Or would they? Would they rather be envious? In the past year I have come to question more and more the things I used to know. These things I know no longer. I once knew that I could live peacefully by myself and be completely content.
Now I no longer know that. What I do know is that I would not be content to live alone.
To never let another close to you is strength, and not only that, but it is sheer protection against betrayal. How many times have I been betrayed because of trust? I do not have the heart to count the times. I have lived many years, and the law that a drow cannot know trust or love was been thoroughly beaten into me. I, in turn, have beaten that into the flesh of others when they seamed to forget. I have seen with my own eyes, and felt all too painfully the results of what happen when I let my guard down. To love; to trust is foolish. It is weak.
Even now I do not deny that I may be weak to love, so. What is different is that I acknowledge that I would have it no other way. I would rather be weak; I would rather be empty without Kincaid, meaningless without him near and in pain without his love. I prefer it like that; I choose to be so weak. The rewards are far better, I have found. What my drow sisters and brothers do not know is that these humans, these strange confusing rivvel enjoy a feeling we never allow ourselves to know.
Viconia DeVir
Personal records.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Blackstaff tower.
"Here we are." Mertallo said with a small sigh. The three stood no more then ten meters from the imposing, windowless tower that was the home of two of the most powerful mages in the realms. The trip would have been hazardous with the angry mob and all if it were not for the magical ring Danilo possessed. It was one that could teleport himself and up to two other people to any location he had previously visited once per day.
Now they were safely inside the walls of the tower. If anyone had seen them disappear, that is all they would have seen.
"Let's not waste time. Come." Mertallo motioned to the others to follow him to the entrance, but Viconia was hesitant. From her point of view, the one man she trusted was gone, and for all she knew, Mertallo blamed her. She was drow, after all.
Mertallo turned when he noticed she was not following him. "What is it?"
The drow bit her lip. If that wasn't enough, this Blackstaff person would be a threat to her if this did not go well. Damn it all, it was already not going well! Kincaid was missing and she was not. When they had seen her after parting, she was being chased by a bloodthirsty mob. Viconia knew neither Mertallo nor Blackstaff would be easily convinced of her side of the story.
"I… "
Mertallo furrowed his brow at her, "What lass?
The dark elf closed her eyes; her hand gripped the handle of the Flail of Ages. Yet another thing Kincaid had made for her. It was a reassuring feeling for the troubled drow.
"I did not do it. I would never do anything to him."
"No one is accusing you of anything-"
"-Yet." Viconia broke him off, her eyes open again. "You don't know me, Mertallo. You know that I am drow. I don't know a thing about you, or you, sir Thann, or Blackstaff here except that you are human. I hope you can understand my situation."
She took a step backward.
Mertallo help of a hand as if to stop her. "Viconia now is not the time for this. You're right, we don't know each other, but I knew Jered. I knew him very well. He was young and headstrong, sometimes rash and easily provoked. But he was also wise and decisive. He would not trust you without reason."
"You are not he, Mertallo. I know you do not trust me. You have been suspicious of me, you know that well."
The old mage nodded, "That much I do not deny. But listen: Kincaid trusted you with his life and if I knew nothing else about you that would be enough. Believe me; I'm not making any premature judgments here."
Viconia looked up at the looming tower. To her it looked like a prison, or a harbinger of death for her at the hands of a powerful human wizard. She squeezed the handle of her flail tightly. This was all happening so fast.
Then there came a voice - deep, strong and laden with authority. "Are they always this rude? Standing around in people's backyards and such?"
Danillo turned to greet the man who had spoken – A man who no one noticed was there - and spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Well, uncle, you know that with the uncertainty of the world and all, we can't simply stand around in the streets - A hazard I was just recently reminded of."
Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun hid his smile. "Indeed. By Mystra, Mertallo! You must have a spell trigger set to alert you of trouble. You never delay in digging yourself into it!"
"Some of us don't live forever. We can't wait for trouble to come to us," Said Mertallo with a wink. "We… we have a situation here. It is something we thought you should be made aware of."
Khelben nodded, but his eyes were on Viconia, and hers were likewise locked with his. Behind her back, her black knuckles gripped the flail handle tightly. It was a rare occasion when fear would grip her so, but when it was all said and done, this was a strange place to her. The people were no less strange. Putting her trust in them as she did Kincaid was no easy task; she could not so easily cope with it.
"Indeed. Bringing a dark elf to my door, to say nothing if simply being in Waterdeep is a situation in itself."
"Uncle, this is the safest place, you realize." Danilo interjected.
"I'm not arguing that." Blackstaff nodded. A moment passed and he then stopped regarding Viconia. The powerful wizard made a motion towards his Tower. "Well then, Inside. Let's have it.
The dark elf cleric slowly took another step backward.
The old mage looked back to her. He sighed. "Listen, Viconia. No one is going to make any rash moves here." He looked back to Blackstaff as one would look to a friend in commanding way. "Right Blackstaff?"
He nodded. "Wouldn't have it. You have my word. If you wish, you can examine my magically to see weather or not I am lying."
Viconia raised an eyebrow to that invitation, but then shook her head. "No."
Blackstaff again motioned toward his tower. "Then will you come inside?"
The dark elf closed her eyes, briefly. She called several spells to mind, should these humans prove treacherous, and strode forward.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Harlimburg Estate.
Basement chambers.
Zenissan Krel'ar'burg knew how to survive when there were those who would seek to kill him. He had been the weaponsmaster of a house in Menzobarranzan. A house not worth mentioning, as it is spoken. Perhaps they considered it that even when the house stood. A house not worth mentioning, true, but not one not worth destroying. To add insult to injury, it had been done by a house that was in no real way threatened by his - A powerful house.
Such was the way of the drow.
Power and the will to use it were not the only two things the drow knew, however. Survival was an aspect every dark elf learned early on. Zenissan was no exception. In fact, it could be said that he was a better survivor then any other Drow in Menzobarranzan. He had survived during the worst of situations and somehow found himself in a place where he could wield power again. That is, as much power as a drow male of his status could be allowed.
Not for the first time, Zenissan felt bitter at that thought. Life would have been better for him if he were born female, or at least with a lighter skin shade! Indeed he had heard a little of the life people lived on the surface. That is where males have power. Despite all the anger and hatred years of living in a drow society had bred into him, the dark elf felt some sense of envy for his light-skinned cousins on the surface.
The drow swordsman thought almost wistfully of what kind of life these hated pale-skinned elves lived. He had heard the horror stories as a child in Melee-Magthere. Then he saw it for himself during a surface raid in the Dalelands. He knew even before that what he had been told were lies to fuel his hatred for the surface-dwellers. What he saw was amazing. In those few moments before he and his brothers slaughtered the innocent elves, he saw how they lived and was amazed. It was that alone that made him hate them.
"Copper for your thoughts." Spoke a sultry voice. Drieza had a bad habit of sneaking up on him. In the past, she would use her magic to remain undetected while she snuck behind him, to reach around and startle him by grabbing hold of parts of his anatomy. Her interest in him had since cooled.
The male immediately knelt with his head bowed. That behavior, Drieza knew, had been well beaten into him.
"Stand, male. You may look at me."
Zenissan did as he was told. Drieza did not have to prompt him to speak, he knew better then to wait for one. "What did you mean?"
Drieza made a slight shrug. "It's a human expression. What's on your mind?"
Zenissan frowned. "Why do you wear that dress?"
Drieza scoffed. "What? Do you think it is something you would understand?"
The drow male recoiled. "Perhaps you're right." Then in a low voice he added. "Just between us, I think it suits you."
The female's lips half-curved into a small hint of a smile. "The dress? Or the fact that I wear it?"
"The latter." He answered.
Drieza nodded and brushed a lock of silky white hair away from her undeniably beautiful face. "It does, doesn't it? Now why don't you tell me what you're really thinking before I spell cast it out of your head."
Zenissan knew she was not serious, or at least he fondly hoped not. "Well, let's just say that I look forward to what little rewards I may have in store."
The female smiled darkly and decided to test him. "You think you're worthy of a reward, male? Why should there be any spoils for slaves when they know that their reward is one more day of life for the work they do for their betters?"
Zenissan did not let his expression become bitter, much to his credit. He meekly returned to a kneeling state before the beautiful dark elf. "No reason, that is true enough."
There was no hostility in his voice, or position, but Drieza knew him better. Walking past him now, she smacked the side of his head. Not too hard, but not too gently either. Zenissan grit his teeth, but said nothing.
Just as he should.
Vishiree entered the small antechamber just then. Adorned in the practical, non-reflective armor that best suits a drow – lightweight and flexible for easy spellcasting yet tough on the outer layers to prevent slashing and piecing weapons from getting through – she seemed an army to herself by appearances.
"Drieza, Zenissan, prepare. We have precious little time left. After sunset, we must move quickly to take the city. Korgan will lean the surface assault on the watchmen," Vishiree took pleasure in the pained look that crossed Zenissan's face. How it must gall him to be passed up for a surfacer! Her mind was set, however, and Korgan was the stronger fighter in addition to being more easily expendable. "I have a special assignment for you, Zenissan. The last thing we need is to have their nosey clerics try to devine out our location as we attack. When we begin, you will go into the temples and dispatch as many as you can… alone."
Zenissan's eyes widened for but a moment. Clerics and wizards were easy enough to kill in good circumstances, but everyone knew that if there's one thing more dangerous then a human magic-user, it was a human magic user forewarned. This was quite the suicide mission. Zenissan was wise enough to respond in the customary way any male should. "As you wish, mistress."
"I did not give you permission to speak!" Vishiree flared. "But I shall let it pass this time, male. Drieza, as for you…. Are you planning on wearing that?"
Normally, the sultry drow would have laughed, but around Vishiree she quickly became withdrawn and introspective. Zenissan was not surprised by the change. Vishiree had that effect.
"I am here to serve, for the glory of Lloth. If I might make a suggestion…" Vishiree nodded, indicating for Drieza to continue. "I might better serve staying here tonight."
Vishiree's eyes narrowed. "How so? We need a mage in the field now more then ever!"
The beautiful female bowed her head. "If I may, mistress? The mad one will be more then capable of taking my place."
The dark elf leader raised an eyebrow. "She is human, you realize."
"Humans have a habit of gaining great power very quickly. She will not disappoint you."
"That's not what concerns me, Drieza. What concerns me is that we are finding ourselves using too much a diverse force. Human against humans, so you see what I'm getting at?"
"She does not know the difference." Drieza returned smoothly. "If you look into her eyes you would know what I mean. And if I may… she is not human either."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Blackstaff Tower.
Just before sundown.
Viconia stood with her back to a wall, though no one was near her to corner her there. She did not trust them anyway. This wizard – this Human wizard Khelben Arunson who's power was comparable to Kincaid's, he could destroy her the first moment he considered her a threat. Any why not? She was a drow, and not one with Drizzt's paladin-like reputation. The city was being subverted by drow. Clearly, she was not to be trusted.
Despite Mertallo's reassurances, that fact could not be erased. She would not believe it.
On the far side of the room, one decorated rather lavishly for being in a wizard's tower, sat the three mages as they veritably talked over each other. Mertallo, now dressed in a finely embroidered red robe with golden runes and white sleeves with red runes, had told the story with a few words as possible. Everything after that was one streaming conversation that did not seem to have a single break.
Danillo contented himself with sampling his uncle's fine wines, in moderate amounts of course. He read some passages off Blackstaff's "beginner" level spellbooks and made notes on a separate piece of paper every now and then. Although he was not about to tell his uncle, he had actually started to consider being his successor as he had offered. Only briefly, though.
As the time wore on, and having no interest in joining the conversation – letting Mertallo do the talking for her after she had explained her part - Viconia eventually conceded to the point of sitting down. She was exhausted, despite herself. Both emotionally and physically she felt drained and restless at the same time. Her thoughts stayed constantly on Kincaid. She thought back to the first days they knew each other. They had fought a lot with each other, most of them she started. Interestingly, looking back she saw that there were many arguments he let her win, even if she was wrong, rather then carrying on the pointless debates. Others he would not bend on, being incredibly stubborn.
She loved that about him.
She thought again of the first time they kissed. It made her laugh. What a comical sight it must have seemed to anyone who would have looked. She had him cornered, so to speak. They where in an alley in Athkatla and his back was against a wall. They were arguing about some stupid subject she had brought up, she did not even remember it. He said something she did not like and she slapped him, hard. He then did something she would never have anticipated. He slapped her back. She flailed at him after a moment of shocked silence, but he captured her hands in an attempt to calm her.
She had meant to bite him and was not entirely sure why she did not choose to just kick him instead. It would have been more logical. Instead she lurched forward; teeth bared, and kissed him. Fiercely, at that. Kincaid stumbled backward in surprise and tripped over something, hitting his head hard and the ground and disturbing a small surface animal she was not familiar with in the process. The animal made a fuss neither of the two wanted to contend with and so they scrambled away, sharing a few half-hearted insults for the sake of posterity.
Viconia still remembered the way he looked with his hair tussled and this lower lip bleeding. Those memories gave her comfort, but she wanted to make more memories.
"Introspective?"
Viconia started quickly. She had not heard Danilo approach. "Where did you come from?"
"Right over there." Danilo said with a nod towards the bookcase. He had some much better replies, but knew enough to know that this drow was in no mood for sarcasm. The bard took a seat at a respectful distance from the brooding elf. "Listen, we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Danilo Thann."
He placed a glass filled with dark-covered liquid before. She looked at it with suspicion.
"It's not wine." Danilo said. "Or poison for that matter. It's actually lemon tea with honey. Sometimes when I am pensive it helps to relax."
The elf hesitantly accepted the glass, not taking her eyes from the human. She knew it was not poisoned. Silently she scolded herself. Her fears may not be unfounded, but they weren't really all that necessary either. Ever since what happened in Berogost she was like that. "Viconia… As I'm sure you've heard."
"Yes. About that… you may be surprised to know that your name is spoken well of in some circles."
The drow snorted in derision.
"I'm serious! Did you expect to do good deeds and get away with it? People notice!"
Viconia laughed. "What would you know? I travel with one who destroyed Saradush, the murderer of harpers and invader of elven cities. Isn't that what you hear about us? No, Sir Thann, I'm sure I have an accurate description of my reputation - mine and Kincaid's both."
Danillo looked a little taken aback. "You are as pessimistic as you are difficult to please, my dear."
The elf cleric sipped the tea. It was surprisingly good - Not at all strong, but quite soothing. "The former is true, that much is certain."
The human leaned a bit forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands laced in front of him. "All of that false information is being cleared up. There are people who's lives you've affected. They are working very hard to see to it that the truth of things comes out. It has already been officially documented as to who was really responsible for Saradush. The other events will follow soon follow." For once, Viconia was actually beginning to listen. It seemed like false comfort, coming for an untrustworthy stranger, yet she listened nonetheless. "You know, my dear, it's not like you are the first drow ever to live on the surface. Acceptance will come with time."
Viconia held the glass under her lips, her eyes closed as she inhaled the soothing aroma. "I don't want their acceptance; I want to be left alone."
"That also comes with acceptance."
Viconia frowned at his optimism. "Where were you half an hour ago? I recall I was running for my life from these people who would, as you say, accept me."
The blond bard dipped his head in acquiescence. "Too true, sadly. There has to bee a start somewhere, would you not say? And if I may make an example, my lady, your relationship with Kincaid as it stands now is something like proof of that."
"Good point. However it was different with us. He and I may have been at odds before, but he did not judge me outright. He accepted me from the beginning."
Danilo raised his hand, as if making a toast. "Well, that's a start, is it not?"
"It's too much work."
"It doesn't have to be, and the rewards just might be worth it. I've heard - although I'm not quite sure of this - that we humans aren't really all that bad sometimes."
Viconia smiled unpleasantly. "I haven't the heart to argue."
She regarded him in a new light after that being said. Perhaps it wasn't what he said but how he said it. This human had previously given her the impression that he was a fop, a rich fool, a spoiled young noble with no real experience to back whatever claims he would make. Now she saw that what she saw was an act, an illusion. This human, this Danilo Thann was quite perceptive. Looking at him now, his grey eyes seemed oddly shrewd.
Why a human would go out of his way to appear foolish to others was beyond her. Or was it? Some drow would construct such a façade, why not them as well? Viconia was still getting used to not judging the lot of humans like so many animals. Old habits die hard.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Waterdeep in general.
Sundown.
They came from every direction. Like water rising up to flood a land from below, they came. They were as dark as oil with the speed of quicksilver and the grace of black cats. They came up from the sewer grates, out of the doors of their captured houses and some just appeared from no discernable direction. It was so well-organized, so well-executed that it took nearly a half hour for any sort of resistance to form.
The soldiers of the city, the city watch were the primary targets. Dark figures rushed to overtake them. Many were taken alone with no chance of fighting back. Many were slaughtered without ever seeing the face of their attackers. The attack was going well.
Some soldiers did not die so quietly, and cries of alarm were raised in one segment after another. Soon the alarm spread and the remaining soldiers rallied. Fear stuck the citizens, panic spread and that is where the real slaughter began.
With panic comes disorder, chaos. Above all, the drow where a chaotic race. This was what they lived for.
Dark elf soldiers charged through the hordes of frightened humans, blades leading. Peasants fell left and right, young as newborn babes and old as withered crones, they fell.
"This is madness," Shouted a soldier, holding the rank of lieutenant-commander. He was a tall, burly man with a full-grown beard and an abundance of chest and back hair. His arms were thick and heavy, covered in course hair. Some believed he had orcish blood in him.
"The damnable creatures! You never see them coming."
Another soldier joined the brute; a small, rat-like man. "I'm sure it will turn out well in the end."
"I can't be so sure, Kertwyn. Go and alert all he other commanders! We must be quick to suppress this."
"Yes, we must." Kertwyn turned as if to fulfill the lieutenant-commander's order. Then he whirled around and planted a dagger in the man's throat in a single, smooth motion.
The burly soldier coughed up blood. His eyes were frozen in a state of complete shock and disbelief. He could not believe that his comrade had done this. It must have been a dark elf in disguise, he thought.
Kertwyn wasted no time to gloat over the death of his commanding officer. It was something he had wanted to do for a long time, but there were many more kills to make and he was on a time constraint. He and the men loyal to him had to cripple Waterdeep's defense as much as possible. Kertwyn had a healthy fear of his drow friends, one that spurred him on with great haste to do their will.
In the end, it would turn out well.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Waterdeep.
Docks district.
Soldiers, pirates, sailors and all-around fighting men grabbed weapons left and right, or fashioned what they could from furniture and cooking materials. One such sailor was Jijiad. Most of the man's skin was tattooed, most of his flesh was muscle, most of his clothes were stained, and most of his what was in his stomach was alcohol. Jijiad would have like to keep it that way, but a foolish dark elf dropped from the rafters above and knocked over his mug, spilling his precious – though dirt cheap – slake!
The elf was busy cutting down a surprised, off-duty soldier as he completed his landing. It was a smooth, clean cut, one quick crisscross at the throat with two curved blades - very stylish. Who did this elf think he was?
Jijiad growled, more angered by his spilled slake then the blood of his drinking partner. With liquor-induced speed and agility, he leaped up from his bar stool on to the bar, evading the drow's sluggish vertical slash and nimbly encircling the small creature. The sailor slipped his arms under the elf's armpits and then laced his fingers behind his white-haired skull. The surprised elf tried to counter, but having no real freedom to move his arms his weapons did no real damage. Further, Jijiad didn't feel a thing.
The drunken sailor bore down with all the anger his well-built frame could liberate. The result was immediate and final. The elf's neck snapped like a dried branch.
Shouts of fighting sprung up everywhere around the man as it became apparent that the foolish dark elf was not alone. Perhaps it was a liquor-induced hallucination, or perhaps there was more then liquor in his system.
Another dark elf dropped from the rafters and cut down a pretty, auburn-haired bar wench as she was struggling to flee.
Jijiad's eyes glowed with primal ferocity. Perhaps this was no illusion and the drow really were attacking!
Outside, standing alone in the street amidst the ensuing chaos as the darkness of night set in was a lone woman clad in a blood-red silk robe. Her hair was jet black, dyed crimson in faint streaks. She was tall and lean. There were scars here and there upon her milky skin, some more visible then others. Her face might once have been exquisitely beautiful, but now the look of madness had a permanent hold on it.
Linira raised her right hand luxuriously; her eyes were half-lidded as if in rapture. Turning her hand, she spread her fingers and let fly a series of multi-colored spheres of light. Each sphere whirled and sought a different target, absorbing themselves into the bodies of sailors and soldiers nearly completely unnoticed by them.
"The water falls, and then it rises." Linira whispered quietly to herself. "The air is absorbed and then released, then the cycle. Life ends only to begin again… but it is different. No life ever came from what is dead, only life can spawn life..."
The sorceress fully opened her eyes then. Her left hand rose, holding a scroll. "Why did they not tell me? Sapphire, their was- or I am I? No. I am not… I have not. I am a have not! Never have!"
Linira spoke aloud the words to her spell and gripped the scroll. The thing glowed and burst into flames. Then those touched by the orbs soon found themselves turning their weapons on each other. Each man struck by a sudden madness and paranoia. The soldiers saw dark elves where there were none, and so they stuck out in every direction.
Linira looked on with lusty eyes. The carnage was very enticing, and even those not affected by her spell began to turn on each other as a result. Very few dark elf soldiers were needed to take the Docks district after all. The humans did the work for them.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Kincaid could feel it. It was a vibration in the earth, a tingle in the air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His muscles surged. He wanted to be there.
The battle had begun.
Few times before had Kincaid felt so helpless. One such time was when the cowled wizards stole away his dear Imoen. Another time was when Irenicus had him imprisoned in a glass tube while he sapped the divinity from his very being. Then there was that time Viconia was held motionless when agents of Lloth attacked her. Also, when Gorion was killed….
Perhaps there were more such moments then he realized.
The mage sensed a presence. He opened his eyes and even in the dim light he could make out her shape.
"Good evening, Drieza."
The sultry dark elf stepped closer. She was now wearing a silk bathrobe – Kara-tur design, Kincaid guessed. "One can't help but find you curious, Kincaid."
The mage gave a sour look. "Yes, like any specimen on an examiner's table. Shall we start with the incision, or have you not your scalpel?"
Drieza said nothing and began circling the human, touching him here and there. Touching him in places he'd rather she not touch him.
"Do you really think you can hold Waterdeep, Drieza? And if you do, how long will you last against the other human kingdoms. They will not suffer a drow city on the surface."
"It won't be entirely drow." Drieza said. She embraced him from behind. Her arms wrapped around his stomach and where the parts of her skin touched the silk cords that held him, she was not held by them
"What are you talking about?"
"And Waterdeep will not be the one and only, it is just an example, a test. It is an experiment. You are a wizard; you understand the need for that. Tell me, Kincaid… are you familiar with the syphilis tektite plant?"
The wizard took a moment to recall the information. "A weed-like flower-bush that requires as much as 3 gallons a day to water and flourishes from the chemicals of the decaying bodies of nearby animals."
Drieza completed her circle of him and entered his line of sight. "A beautiful plant. That's all you really had to say. It glows at night, when the sun goes down. It is a soft glow, most do not notice it, but I do."
The drow removed a gel-like substance container from one of the folds in her robe, applied some to her hands and began to rub it into the wizard's chest.
Kincaid narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "It is also a combustible spell component."
"Not after it's been mixed with one part sword spider venom, and two parts crushed surface beetle shells. In that case, it becomes an aphrodisiac."
Kincaid had to laugh. "From what I know of you, I'm not too surprised. Next I expect I'll be breeding with a spider."
Drieza shrugged. "It's only painful at first."
Kincaid's expression soured.
This time the elf laughed. "You thought I was serious."
"I have seen far worse with your kind."
This time, a scowl. "My kind? You know, I thought you were above that sort of thinking, after what you've seen in your life. You surprise me, Jered Kincaid!"
"You seem to know a lot about my life."
"More then you would like me to know, I'm sure. Tell me then, what have you seen of us drow that is worse then what your own race has accomplished. No, don't answer that. You see where I am going with this? The drow believe themselves superior to all other races. Who is to say the humans do not also have that arrogance."
Kincaid had to bite back his tongue, for he was tempted to argue that it is not nearly as widespread with humans. After a moment of thought, he realized that he could not honestly say that. He regarded Drieza shrewdly after that. She was deep.
"So what is the cream for?"
Drieza had finished applying the substance to his chest, and worked it into his shoulders. "Just a spell component. A precaution should I need to use it. As you are well aware, you cannot be trusted." After a moment, her hands trailed below his abdomen. "Breeding you was an idea that crossed my mind. A score of loyal, half-drow half-godling with no place to call home. Powerful and dependent on us, yes I think we are more alike then you know."
Kincaid looked struck. "I hope that's not a veiled insult directed at my companions."
"Even now, they seek you. It makes it all the more easy to capture them as well."
"Care to explain why?
"Obviously, we need to minimize interference, among other things." Drieza paused and stepped back. For a moment, there was a look of sadness in her eyes. "I'd be worried about your woman if I were you. Pray she loves you enough to let you go and not follow."
The thought of danger to Viconia had occurred to him, that much was certain. And Kincaid did worry, but he would not let it show.
Moments passed and the two talked little. Drieza occupied herself with applying the cream to the entirety of Kincaid's body. When her gently rubbing hands reached certain sensitive places, the mage resolved his body to be unresponsive and impassive. The feat would have been easier if not for the obvious notion that Drieza was enjoying this.
"Is it too late to opt for torture?"
Delightful laughter bubbled from the drow's throat, but her hand did not still.
Calm as he made himself appear to be, the thought of being smeared heat to toe in a drow spell component worried him.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Author's note:
It's rather strange, but I had wanted to extend this chapter to be even longer then it was. Trouble is, It got to such a length that I could add nothing else without re-iterating character actions or just going over events that have already taken place. A chapter is a chapter and it must come to an end.
At least, that's what the chibi keeps telling me in my sleep.
So you see I had this chapter on my box for months, slowly adding to it and singing and dancing in the thrall of writer's block. I could never do this for a living. Hell, I've got enough of a challenge to get the thing to upload in proper web-format. Fanfiction has a problem with whoever encoded that portion of their site. Maybe they should have me do it instead.
The chibi suggested that one too.
For those wonder about the man behind the keyboard, I'll be happy to update. I've found a new love in my life. Her name is Chai, and she comes in three flavors right now; black, Vanilla and Spice. I prefer spice. Caffinated, of course. I still play video games 8 hours a day to stave off reality, all while miraculously maintaining my unbelievably sexy physique (I dare you to take that seriously).
Oh, and a new fact that came to my attention is as follows – Evanescence Roxors and crushes all others. Yep, They is awesome and there's nothing you can do about it. Ann (lead singer) Is hot too. Just Fyi, y'know. It's by no means pertinent save for my listening to it as I write this.
You know, this is really long for an author's note, are you still reading this? I know from personal experience that you guys tend to speed-read and skip parts that don't interest you. You suck, you know that?
Well, time to get started on chapter 15. later.