Out of the Shadows, Part 13
In order to resolve the tense situation between the two women, you suggest a compromise. "Relis, I think your plan is a good one," you say gently. "But you should take Belan along with you. His magic will aid you far more than it will help me. Khaytala can back me up instead; Verika should be able to get into Lady Mykra's study without incident if she uses the information from my scouting."
Relis looks at the ground, well aware that she's being given backup for a less-dangerous mission, while Verika is going alone right into the thick of danger alone. But she can't argue with your points, and eventually nods. Verika, in turn, is still clearly being chewed up by worry for Relis, but she also understands that this is a good compromise.
As hunger grows in your mortal companions, you all eat some of the supplies you scavenged from the drow camp. At the same time, you're all talking through the smaller details of the plan, going back and forth on how you're each going to accomplish your objectives. Finally, Verika suggests turning in to get some sleep. The rest of you agree, and Belan extinguishes his spell-light.
You, of course, need much less slumber than they do. Still, you play the part patiently, without a hint of breaking character.
"Next morning" is a nebulous concept, down here in the dark. But you all eventually wake, eat, drink from the stream and otherwise prepare yourself, before setting out on your appointed tasks. Verika breaks off from the group first, once again sneaking into the city alone with her absurd stealth. You, on the other hand, take a form based loosely on one of the mages you fucked back at the drow camp. That disguise allows you to carry Belan's staff as you lead the other three through the walls. A haughty elite followed by her pitiful, downtrodden elf and half-orc slaves.
Once you get them into the city, you bring them to an out-of-the-way cul-de-sac near Thesolan Shrine, where Belan can cast his illusion spell on Relis. It really is quite impressive magic for one so young, and the elf ranger makes the most of it, combining the not-quite-perfect camouflage with her own very respectable skills. She slips out toward her target while Belan remains behind, conjuring a second—much simpler—illusion of a false wall, allowing him to hide in the thin space between the false wall and the real one. He lowers himself into a meditative position as he concentrates on maintaining both spells.
"You sure you can manage this?" you ask. The boy looks up at you, then nods, determination to do what he can to help burning in his eyes. You decide to trust him, and with an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder you step back out through the illusory barrier.
With that, you and Khaytala head out together for Cendiath Fortress. And on arrival, you see that its name was in no sense hyperbole. It's a genuine fortress, an imposing edifice of thick black stone right in the middle of the city, with high walls surrounding an even more towering central keep. From what Verika told you, it's one of the main nerve centers of the drow army, in addition to being the residence of Lady Pheshera Cendiath.
One thing that strikes you immediately are the impressive array of guards and defenses, which are clearly not for show. Khaytala lets out a low whistle. "Now that's a fortress on high alert," she murmurs to you, taking in the scene with her experienced campaigner's eye. "And inside their own city walls, no less. Wonder what they're more worried about? An attack from a rival faction? Or a revolt from their slaves?"
You find a nearby alley and shapeshift again, this time into a soldier patterned on those you see marching by. A lowly male, this time, not one of the female elites you faced on the surface. This time, you're aiming to be as unremarkable as possible. You also spend some time with Khaytala working out a series of signals for if you're in trouble and need a help, or a diversion. You also set a time limit after which she'll come after you regardless, with the assumption that you've been captured if you haven't made it back out by then.
You wait for a while for the perfect moment, then use your own not-inconsiderable stealth to slip in behind a long infantry troop as it approaches the main gate, the soldiers in front of you not even noticing your arrival as they march forward. You match step and maneuver in with the rest of them, constantly aware of the sightline of every potential watcher as you carefully position yourself to keep from attracting attention.
Once inside, you slip away from the troop. After gaining some distance, you start to move with a firm, confident body language that leaves no doubt whatsoever that you're on a mission, and you're exactly where you're supposed to be. Exploiting deference to structure and routine is a trick you're long familiar with. And there's just something about a uniform—even a low-ranking one—that just makes it so much easier to pull off.
And there is also the more unfamiliar confidence of knowing that—even on the off-chance that something goes horribly wrong—someone has your back. That... doesn't hurt either.
You move unchallenged through the parade grounds and into some of the smaller, outlying structures. You observe the defenses, making careful note of everything that might possibly be useful. The fort has its own cells for keeping prisoners. The guards here don't seem to be quite as on edge as the guards at Eselvar Manor, but their presence is still formidable.
It's right as you're in the middle of this exploration that you notice a swell of low muttering sweep through the assembled troops. Looking up, you see a woman clad in ornate plate mail emerge from the towering central keep onto a balcony overlooking the parade grounds. She's tall and brawny—or at least, she is for a drow—with short-cropped hair and a huge curved blade strapped across her back. She's flanked by guards wearing the Cendiath house crest, not normal soldiers, and you're quite confident that this is Lady Pheshera Cendiath herself.
There is something unstable, mercurial in her gaze as it sweeps across the soldiers below, a simmering rage kept barely constrained. After a moment of silence, Lady Pheshera slams her hand down on the railing, bellowing out an address to those watching her.
"Daughters of the Underworld!" she thunders, ignoring the large number of male foot soldiers also present. "You brave warriors, who chafe under the indignity of the defeats that have throttled our access to the surface! As the Festival of Melca's Thorn draws near, know that I still strive to restore our nation to glory! I will once again break the stranglehold of those filthy lesser races, and once more allow our raiding parties to strike freely, and take whatever—and whomever—we will from them!"
A cheer rises up from the assembled drow, though glancing across the upturned faces you don't find all of them to be quite as enthusiastic about the promised war as the furious noble. Especially the lower ranking troops who stand to be sent into the front lines. Even the officers can't match the sheer ferocity on display from Lady Pheshera, who rages with particular venom whenever she brings up the non-drow races, displaying a seething animus toward them.
On and on she goes, the troops below pausing in whatever they had been doing to pay dutiful attention. It's clear that Lady Pheshera spares not the slightest thought that they might have more important things to do than listen to her vent her frustrations. At the very least, she clearly likes to hear the sound of her own voice, expounding on the greatness that she will soon return to them.
After a while—after a long while—her tirade winds to a close. Seeing an opportunity, you slip into that central keep, winding your way through the stone hallways to get close enough to see where Lady Pheshera goes from there. You can't get too close, but you're able to stealthily track her path until she enters a heavily-guarded war room, the door slamming shut behind her. After that you can detect nothing from within; it's locked tight and heavily warded.
You are, however, able to position yourself at an innocuous-looking post some distance away. Not close to anything sensitive in and of itself... but just out of the corner of your eye, you can watch the hallway leading to that war room, taking note of the different soldiers, dignitaries and seedy-looking operative types that come and go. It seems that highly-secured war room is where the Lady Pheshera does most of her confidential business.
And while you don't have the time nor the groundwork to try at the moment... if you could manage to listen in on some of those conversations, who knows what secrets you might uncover?
Eventually, you realize that you've pressed as far as is wise on this initial trip, and you've almost reached the time limit after which Khaytala would assume something is wrong and come charging to your rescue. Breaking off, you wait for your opportunity and slip back out of the fort much as you entered.
You quickly return to the narrow alley where Khaytala has been holed up, and she grins up at you from where she sits as you come into view. "No trouble?" she asks. "Knew they wouldn't catch onto you. They may be slippery... but you're in a league of your own."
You grin back at her. "Sorry. Maybe next time I can make it more exciting."
Khaytala chuckles. "Any caravan guard worth her salt knows to pray for the boring run. Even if it's the kind of run where the client sometimes wonders why he brought you along in the first place. If everyone makes it back in one piece... that's why you're there. Just in case."
Then she cracks her neck. "Not that I expect it to stay boring for long once we start making actual moves—prayers or no. Especially if we end up crashing the festival. That's going to be a fight to remember, one way or the other. And of course..."
She rises to her feet, looking at you with tenderness and desire. "...it's never really boring when you're around. Are you... feeling hungry? I know you've been using your powers a fair bit, and it's not exactly easy to do anything... fun... back at camp while everyone's watching. We could take this opportunity... while it's just the two of us like this... maybe go somewhere even more out of the way..."
Your reserves are nowhere near dangerously low, but it certainly couldn't hurt to top them off. No telling how often you'll have to shapeshift in the coming days, after all, or when your next chance at this will be. But even as you open your mouth to agree... you detect someone approaching.
Even your impossibly perceptive senses almost miss their approach, which means you're pretty sure you know who it is. Verika has finished her task early, and has come to check up on you.
While this... complicates... what you were about to do, you might be able to work this to your advantage. Your evasive answers have made Verika determined to learn what you're hiding. And if you time it right with her approach, you should be able to bait her into listening in on a juicy conversation that you can feed to her.
In a sense, her nearly peerless stealth abilities can be used against her. She's so used to being undetectable by mortals that she'll have no reason to suspect that you know she's there, that you might be feeding her exactly what you want her to hear about your trustworthiness.
Then again, there are other ways you can make use of that blind spot of hers. Convincing her more of your trustworthiness is all well and good... but the carnal element is also a necessity for what you intend to do to her. You could instead maneuver her to so that instead of the information she wants, what she actually ends up spying on is you and Khaytala fucking.
You're quite confident that you can put on a show that Verika will not soon forget, enkindling desire and worming temptation into her thoughts, without actually making any overt moves toward her yourself. It would be a chance to at least start guiding her thoughts in that direction... as well as slaking your own hunger, of course.
