"I was told that I would be able to return to my Queen's service in the Demonweb," the draegloth said, shuddering slightly in panic as Valyne rose from her throne and approached him in long, purposeful strides.
The demon lord gave him a feline smile, already anticipating the games she would play with her newest toy. Whatever they said about Lloth, She was a generous creature when the fancy struck Her. "You were misinformed, mortal," Val said, springing forward. Her claws sunk deep into his shoulders and she gave them a tug, rewarded by a sharp pop of dislocation and the snap of a collar bone. The shrieks of agony were more delicious than any fine wine had ever been. She tore deeper into flesh, twisting and tearing at it like a cat with a mouse. Sometimes she would release him, but before he could get more than a few pace, she was dragging him back by a limb or his throat.
Sehaneth cleared her throat, uncertain if Valyne would be able to hear her over the screaming. Eventually he would die, but draegloths were quite resilient as far as she understood. No doubt he would break before Valyne bored of him and then her mistress would be terribly disappointed. Sehaneth made a mental note to find her something else to play with lest the succubus herself become a replacement. "My Lady, perhaps now is not the best time to indulge yourself?" she suggested, keeping her eyes lowered respectfully. "There is still the matter of the celestials to attend to."
"I'm enjoying the simple things in life, Sehaneth. Is it really so important it needs to be addressed now?" Valyne said, sounding vaguely irritated and even bored by the business at hand. She was focused solely on causing pain or at least seemed to be. Sehaneth generally found that her mistress was thinking deeply even when she seemed at her most distracted. It was a little peculiarity. Valyne was not prone to sinking too far into the famed debaucheries of the demons, mostly because she moved with a purpose that overruled all else. At times like this when she was pleased with the course of events, sometimes a fancy would strike her and she would lose herself in the moment.
"It would be better if seen to now rather than when it becomes a problem we cannot ignore," Sehaneth said. She winced despite herself when her mistress ripped a rib out of the half-demon's body and started fishing around inside his torso as if looking for lost keys. Blood was spattered all over the floor and the demon lord now.
Val sighed, claws closing around a beating heart. For a moment, she savored the feeling of something so fragile fluttering away in her grasp. Then she crushed it in her hand and ripped it out. The draegloth dropped to his knees, gasping like a fish as all the blood in his body surged towards the gap. It poured out in a cascade of crimson across the polished stone floor. The demon lord studied the heart thoughtfully for a moment, but then her attention seemed to wander. She tossed it to the lesser demons crowded in a corner of the hall like a noble would throw a soup bone to his hounds. Certainly, the dretches leaped on it with equal and desperate hunger. "Very well. Tell Asaron to send the mageling after them."
"My Lady, these are generals. I remember them from the life before this life. They are no small foes to be brushed aside with a thought," Sehaneth warned, her tone cautious and careful. She knew Val wouldn't lash out unless she were in a far fouler mood, but there were appearances to be maintained. Better the hordes of lesser demons think Val as fearsome as she truly was, rather than something easily schemed against. It would be tiring to scrape up the crushed insects from all over the floor.
Val yawned. "Obviously she won't go alone. This is the delightful thing about real pawns, more like sava than chess: they have resources of their own. Lloth has seen to Her inquisitor and I will see to my mageling. House Duskryn is already involved and if I know anything about Siniira, it is that she has an inexplicable fondness for her family," the demon lord said.
Sehaneth wanted to say, Like you? but she knew that would be pointless—or dangerous, if Valyne was in a mood. Her mistress remembered her mortal life only like snippets of dreams now and always seemed somewhat disinterested on the subject. It no longer mattered to her, just a string of abstract and distant memories. The plane had a way of doing that, one of the methods used to corrupt those who invaded it. The only things that really mattered anyway were the bitter emotions that had fueled and still fueled her connection to the Abyss: hatred, bitterness, anger, and loss. Part of Sehaneth wondered if the frightened girl who had started down this dark path still existed behind Val's white eyes. Most of the time she discarded it as impossible, but sometimes there were little flashes of mortality, for lack of a better word, in her mistress's behavior.
Once, on the battlefield, Sehaneth had been severely injured by an avenging angel wielding a blade of flame. Before he could strike his killing blow, Valyne had come out of nowhere and ripped him apart. Then her attention had turned to her second-in-command rather than the battle and she bestowed profane healing on the transformed angel. In that brief moment, she could have sworn she saw concern. Certainly, the demon lord treated her as if she was valuable. Sehaneth never felt like something to be used and discarded when convenient, like the draegloth had been. It was...unnerving. That was not how demons were inclined to act. Selfishness was the rule rather than the exception.
"You think she will be sufficient to the task, my Lady?" Sehaneth said, falling in step beside her mistress as they walked towards the gardens.
Valyne seemed so strangely serene here in the midst of her gardens, the very heart of her estate. Crisp autumn leaves crunched under their feet with every step, drifting down lazily as soft breezes rustled and rattled the branches above. Aspen and maple, birch and oak—they were all here, almost like a perfectly kept and groomed forest. She stopped and leaned down to inhale the fragrance of an open white rose that was letting its perfumed scent roll out into the air. Finally, they came to a stop at the edge of a reflecting pool catching the light of a perpetual sunset. Vallashan was a plane of evening, at least here in Neiisa. "If she is not sufficient to the task, she is hardly a worthy servant and I would be better served without her. Asaron can always replace her."
"I thought you said she was different," Sehaneth commented, more comfortable now that they were in private. There were no demons bold enough to eavesdrop in the gardens of Neiisa or even enter it without the permission of the Queen of Sorrows. The trees and the plants themselves were alive and more than capable of strangling or devouring the unwary. Even the sweet scents of the flowers could serve as deadly poison or enthralling drugs. The birds that sang in the trees were their mistress's eyes and ears. No secret in this place could be kept from Val's knowledge.
"Different does not mean irreplaceable," Valyne said. She smiled. "You, pet, are irreplaceable. I could turn all the angels in the heavens to demons, but not one would ever be the same. Not unlike a snowflake."
The former angel looked eminently pleased, but she only basked in the glow of her mistress's approval for a moment. "And must they die?" Sehaneth asked, as if double-checking that Valyne was content with the outcome.
"It is the nature of mortals to die, whether in my pursuits or those of others. Now or many years down the line. It is inevitable. Brief as a wink of light to you and I," Valyne said. When she turned to Sehaneth, there was that little hint of mortal fragility in her eyes. Otherwise, her expression was inscrutable. "You would never understand. You have never lived as one."
"Yes, my Lady," Sehaneth said quietly, bowing her head. She could hardly argue, after all.
Val flexed her batwings thoughtfully before stretching fully like a lazy cat. "Speaking of death, when that occurs you will bring me the ring. I want it."
"Yes, my Lady." The succubus's curiosity overwhelmed her. "Does it have power?"
"No," Val said, her voice soft and low. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and then reopened. "I would like it as a...memento. Of a life before this life, as you call it."
Alystin settled comfortably into a chair, secreted away in the depths of the cult's safe house at Niar'hannenlyn. The City of Spiders was still close enough that the journey between there and her current refuge was easy but not so close that prying eyes would intrude upon business conducted. She had become accustomed to her new brothers and sisters in the cult, even fond of them. The succubus she had been unnerved by now just seemed like a surprisingly benevolent matriarch keeping them all going in the same direction while Cessair was gone. Apparently the half-elf was always moving between Menzoberranzan and other sanctuaries scattered through the Underdark, supposedly on Church business.
At the moment, however, the tiefling was very much present. Cessair still smelled like incense and the unmistakable touches of Abyssal magic—something at once sweet and bitter, almost like a perfume that was strangely pleasant to breathe in. It had a sort of seductive influence that drew you in and...changed you. "I spoke with the Lady of Sacrifice," she said, sitting down across from Aly.
"And?" the mage said, leaning forward a little with interest. If she could free Sabal, everything would be worth it. Not that she was prepared to leave the service of the Queen of Sorrows. There was so much power untapped in the Abyss even for a wizard, finally opening up to her. She could feel it as a tingle across her skin and a flood of energy through her body. It was addictive and pulled her deeper in like the song of a siren. But she was confident she could control it and harness it to take on the enemies of House Druu'giir.
"Sabal A'Daragon will be freed from her bonds of duty very soon. What soon means is difficult to know. Time in the Abyss passes differently and demon lords are immortal," Cessair admitted. "But very soon likely means within the next century. Perhaps even before that mark of time."
"Why not now?" Aly said, both relieved and frustrated. She had been patient for so long in her research. But then again, this was the only way it would happen. Only a demon lord or a god had enough power to release Sabal from Lloth's hold, and even then it had to be a powerful or allied one.
"That is not for us to know. The machinations of the Abyss are beyond the understanding even of such practiced schemers as the drow," Cessair said sympathetically. She straightened up a little. "There is, however, a task that I believe you're prepared for where others may not be. I would send Asaron, but she's more suited to manipulation than confrontation. There is a battle coming with the celestials that have been plaguing us lately. Call it a turning point if you will. Victory there will advance our plans greatly. You are to ensure that the drow win and that the traitor in the ranks dies."
"Traitor?" Aly said, frowning. She didn't like the idea of a battle, but she had fought them before and could again.
"An enemy that you have for a long time but who moves in secret. In other words, a competent one," the rogue explained with a wry smile. "I talked with Yvonnel. She believes the threat is hiding within House Baenre. Someone wants you dead, Aly. Someone powerful. Even the Revered Daughter can't investigate without stepping on Matron Baenre's toes."
Alystin winced, imagining what would happen if the Church and House Baenre clashed. No armies would march and the city would remain standing, but there would certainly be a bloodbath. And perhaps other Houses would seek to destabilize Baenre even more for that coveted seat as first on the ruling council of Menzoberranzan. "Why are they out to kill me?"
"You are the last surviving heir of House Kenafin, even if you are now House Wizard of Druu'giir. That is unfinished business. You'd be a prime target for many people who have an axe to grind," Cessair said. After thirty years under Yvonnel X'larraz'et'soj, she had an excellent grasp of drow politics and her own suspicion about who was responsible. But she had no evidence. Without something to take to the Revered Daughter, it might as well have been hot air. Despite the reputation of Lloth's church throughout the Underdark, they were very thorough in their investigations. Occasionally they were overzealous and they did tend to err on the side of caution. Yvonnel was better about it with her scalpel-like mind. "Here is the beginning of your task..."
That was how Alystin had found herself wandering too close to V'sal with the patrol, in step with Sabal at the head of the party with Llolfaen. "Heretics ran here? Are they brave or just stupid?" she asked the amber-eyed drowess.
"Insane would be a favorite," the inquisitor muttered. She glanced over at Llolfaen. Their young leader had been surprisingly quiet, only issuing orders and preferring to keep her thoughts to herself. "Yvonnel found a symbol of Ilsensine. They were probably thralls." It was a good excuse and with her few expressions, she was impossible to read. At least to Aly. Sometimes when Llolfaen glanced over at her, it felt like the priestess was looking through her. She wasn't psionic, of course. Just uncannily perceptive.
For her part, Llolfaen was trying to block out the endless whispering in her ears. It was a soft voice, definitely female, and gave her a feeling of unshakable darkness and venom. It was not the voice of something safe and good-intentioned. But it had been with her since the Academy. Then it whispered to her amongst the confusion, There is something there. She stiffened and signaled for them to stop. "Ahead isn't safe."
"I don't hear anything," Aly said, concentrating. She looked to Sabal.
The inquisitor's brow was furrowed as she reached out and felt for anything. "Nothing, but mindflayers are more than capable of hiding their presence and the presence of those who serve them," she said. Amber eyes flickered over to Llolfaen to gauge her certainty. It seemed absolute. "There is no way around. It's a good spot for an ambush. Shall we go carefully?"
The young priestess seemed to be listening to something no one else could hear. Alystin did not like it. Honestly, she still didn't like any of Lloth's most devoted servants, still fearing the moment that sacrificial dagger would come plunging down towards her chest. It was also the nature of mages and clerics to disagree on which form of magic was more powerful. Llolfaen was like an unwitting challenger who had walked into Aly's arena. "The tunnel is wide here. A few of us could draw them out and lead them back into the rest of the patrol," she said confidently.
"Aly and I will go with you," Sabal said, drawing her sword and crouching slightly. "If there is something masked, that means a mindflayer is not far away." She felt a flash of something across the surface of Llolfaen's thoughts, the gray steel of determination.
"We can handle it," Llolfaen said, moving forward and trusting that the other two would follow.
"Of course it's us," Aly muttered rebelliously even as she readied a fireball. She was not enjoying following someone barely out of the Academy. What real experience did she have? Besides, she was Lirayne Duskryn's daughter and that meant she would have a special kind of devotion to the Spider Queen. Likely an unshakable one. Faith seemed to be the core of House Duskryn's identity, never a bad thing in the world ruled by an unforgiving, fickle, and jealous goddess.
"You can stay behind if you don't like it," Llolfaen said. The words were soft, but there was an undercurrent of challenge.
"And leave you two alone? Perish at the thought," Aly ground out. It wasn't her place to question the motivations of the demon lord she served, but she did wish the task had been less unpleasant. When she looked over at Sabal, she saw a hint of a grin.
The passage ahead narrowed, high ledges on either side. Sabal felt a flash of hatred, powerful enough to break the shielding. Immediately she dropped her blade and grabbed Aly and Llolfaen, dragging them both to the ground as she dove forward. Crossbow bolts hit the rocks on either side of them, shattering with impact. The mad cackles they heard were unmistakable. "Derro," Sabal snapped as smaller figures dropped down the sides of the narrow path before and behind them.
The blue-white skinned humanoids were laughing at them still, their blank and bulging eyes crinkled with a twisted mirth at the corner. All of them looked unkempt and filthy, but they were dangerous with their crossbows and short swords. They also had numbers on the three drow. Their reinforcements would take at least a minute to reach them and Sabal knew better than most that a great deal could happen in a minute.
Alystin hurled her prepared seed of flame, exploding into a massive fireball on impact. The miserable, crazed creatures shrieked and flailed, both from the light and the fact that some of them were now on fire. Unfortunately, the sudden flare of light had blinded them as well.
"Warning next time!" Sabal shouted, grabbing her sword and sprinting forward into the approaching melee. She was the most heavily armed and armored. That meant she needed as many derro focused on her as possible to keep her companions safe. While she was now inaccurate with her sword, her psionic powers were as lethal as ever. She shredded the minds of the first two she hit with a raw blast of power. It didn't drive them to insanity—they were already there—but it did cause an unbearable pain. One of the others slashed open her thigh, but as soon as she was injured the wound began closing up. It hurt like a bitch, of course, but Llolfaen was definitely taking care of them.
"Sorry!" Aly called in response to Sabal. Even though she didn't like Llolfaen, she put herself back to back with the cleric so none of the creatures could get behind them. When one divine spell lashed out and practically rent one derro who approached too close, the mage shivered. It felt...different.
Sabal whipped her blade like it was an extension of her arm, dancing from one weak point to another with effortless grace. "Too many," she gritted out, too quietly for her companions to hear. And then she felt something slam into the side of her mind like a tidal wave. Alystin and Llolfaen both doubled over as well. "Mindflayer! It's up on the ledge!" There was no way she could keep the vulnerable spell-casters safe and go after it at the same time.
Llolfaen leaped and caught the rough stone, not unlike when she'd climbed around the House as a child. She gritted her teeth and started pulling herself up towards the mindflayer. It was her responsibility to keep her companions safe and all she needed to do was distract it until the others arrived. She went up like a spider and found herself face to face with something out of nightmare. It was a tall and imposing body topped by a tentacled and mauve head covered in mucus. Hateful white eyes gleamed in the faint light of spells flashing down below, focused intently on its nearest prey.
Aly looked around. "Shit! Where the hells did the priestess go?"
"You lost her?" Sabal couldn't look back, but she was moving backwards under the assault. "Goddess damn it!" The mindflayer was no longer attacking them, which told her exactly where their apparently fearless leader had gone.
Llolfaen's blade hit the ground as another blow tore through her willpower and wrenched at her thoughts. It was so hard to focus. It would be so much easier to submit... And then the darkness hit her, surging her upwards with a power terrifying. She could feel it burning through her body, more than she was capable of enduring. It was burning her soul, charring it to blackness. Agony in its most intense state. But she could move. Her mind was far from clear but the hatred overruled all else.
Something else was moving her hands now, her lips moving in an incantation she had never heard before. It wasn't even in a language she knew. Something ancient, something that had come long before Abyssal. It slammed the mindflayer back against the wall and tore open wounds across its body. The creature struck back with another fearsome blow and she felt the barest control she had left snap like a twig. Her being belonged to whatever had reared its ugly head. All she could do was watch.
Sabal felt a flood of divine power. It was not a little tingle or even a sharp crackle. It was like she'd been hit by lightning. And judging from the yelp Aly let out, she felt it too. Even the derro shrieked and froze for a moment before resuming their attack. But their falter had brought the pair of drow the reprieve they needed—their reinforcements came charging into the fray. As soon as the inquisitor heard that, she reached back to grab Alystin's arm. "Mindflayer, now!"
Aly didn't even nod. She just scrabbled up the wall alongside Sabal, leaving her staff behind her. Her spells would be enough. Getting close enough to the creature to whack it was not a survival trait anyway. As soon as they could see it, she hurled a bolt of lightning that narrowly missed the young priestess. And then she realized that Llolfaen was not moving like she should have. It wasn't clumsy, but it was strange. Almost like she wasn't used to walking with two legs. And she was shivering and shuddering, probably under the assault of the mindflayer.
Sabal didn't know what in the Nine Hells was happening, but she could feel the creature hammering away at the favored soul and knew that was bad. There was something dark and wicked about the girl's mind now, something so powerful it almost overwhelmed the senses. She had to really focus to drive her own will into the mindflayer. The creature couldn't last more than half a minute against their combined assault. Its scrambled thoughts gave Sabal a chance to drive her sword through its ribs with a sickening crunch, piercing its heart. The creature gurgled and crumpled to the ground.
Llolfaen followed it, dropping like a puppet with the strings cut. Whatever the black thing was, it seemed to vanish. Sabal could feel hints of it, lingering on the edges of what seemed to be a shattered mind. The inquisitor crouched down. The girl was still breathing and even conscious, but her eyes were unfocused and glazed. "Llolfaen!" She shook the girl. When that didn't gain her an answer, she slapped the young drowess.
"Let me—" Aly started to say, readying a healing spell. But suddenly Llolfaen seemed to snap back to herself, turning her head towards the battle.
"Clean up," the girl murmured, hands trembling as she tried to push herself up.
"Stay here," Sabal said firmly. "Aly, keep her down. She can't keep fighting. I'll see about the others." Whatever had happened, she had a sneaking suspicion that Yvonnel knew something about it. Clearly, it was important. But she was no expert on divine magic. It had felt like walking into the Spider Queen's temple to meet with a yochlol, but stronger.
Llolfaen gave Aly a small, apologetic smile from the ground. "Hate sitting out," she murmured.
Alystin watched Sabal drop over the edge and felt a pang of worry. "Me too," she said. Perhaps the priestess wasn't so unbearable after all. They'd see when she was feeling back to herself again.
The child of House Duskryn nodded. For the moment, the whispers were strangely quiet and she could think clearly again. But that peace would fade and return to the noise. It always did.