Narsil : City of Drow (Check OOC thread before joining )

[Lacewing]

He nearly ran into Gedrel before seeing her, she had held so very still and blended with the darkened hallways she watched him with an amused expression "Oh why hello there" her vioce was silky and she was oviously checking him out.

To her males were males half breed or not they were all toys in her eyes "From one of the houses? Going to except my invitation to our party tonight?"she seemed almost childishly thrilled with the idea clapping her hands and likely making him wonder as to her sanity then next he knew her tiny form was draped over his shoudlers from behind.

how she did that he likely wasn't to ever know "Oh.. I sooo hope you come tonight" and she trailed fingers in interesting patterns up his arms leaving slightly glowing magic trails in her fingers wake, glows that sent a tingle through his body in a purely sexual way till they faded "You look like you might be alot of fun" and she ran the tip of her toung over the edge of his ear then left as quickly as she came laughing as she skipped near silent down the hall.

She was definately crazed in most sain drow's oppinions.... and likely any other race as well.

 

[Lethe]

Elethemiol

Eleth smiled. The half-mad little Drow had excited him, interested hin in ways he had not been for some time. He'd gotten too jaded. She might be good for him. And the consciousness that Synafay might well order him to kill her before the party was over.. well, that just added spice to it all

He moved down the hallway, which eventually ended in a shrine to Lloth. A Drow priestess stood there, standing over the body of a gold elf, sacrificed in the altar.

'For luck?', asked Elethemiol. 'It certainly wasn't for that poor creature'

The priestess eyed him askance. Nobody knew how Eleth felt about his surface kin.

'What do you do here, half-breed?'

For answer, Eleth handed her the letter.

'We're coming to your little party'. Eleth smiled again, the mocking half-smile that was lidded and lazy and Elethemiol. 'I'm sure a good time will be had by all'

 

[Snowkat]

Jem'aril of House Dyimm

Jem'aril sat on the spider throne of her home with discomfort, though did not show it openly. Outsiders saw only a House loyal to the teachings of Lloth, and though House Dyimm despised the Spider Queen, they knew it would be suicide to reveal their true religion to the City, and maintained a careful charade.

She leaned back, crossing her long ebony-skinned legs, the elegant red spider silk gown she wore sliding over her skin without a sound. She fingered the symbol of Lloth about her neck, her stare fixed on the messenger knelt before the dias for a moment, his eyes cast downwards, no doubt fearful of his life, cowering before a Matron Mother, before turning her own eyes back to the letter he had brought.

"I will attend," she said after a long pause, "you may go."

The messenger rose to his feet swiftly, retreating from her presence, the great doors of the hall swinging shut behind him.

"Matron, do you think it wise to-" began one of her daughters stood besides the throne.

"To keep appraised of the intrigue that flows like blood from Lloths altars?" Jem'aril interrupted, looking to her. "House Lylyl have sent such invitations throughout the City, as you know."

House Dyimm kept a network of spies and informants which would be the envy of the other Houses.

"All the more daggers poised to strike," her daughter replied.

"Yes... no doubt. Ready a suitable entourage, Ke'ala" Jem'aril said, rising from the throne. "Let us see whose favour House Lylyl courts, or whose demise they seek. Send Hurnaf to me in the Chapel."

Hurnaf was one of her closest advisors, a blind deep gnome who had been in the role of 'poison tester' for many decades, and the Chapel was the secret heart of House Dyimm, the prayer room to the Dark Maiden, hidden behind a veil of secret passages and magical wards to fend of the scrying magics that might follow her.

Entering the hidden chamber, she tore the symbol of Lloth from her neck, casting it roughly aside, and slipped the gown from her shoulders, the red silk silently slipping downwards, hanging provocatively against the swell of her breasts before she shrugged her shoulders, sending it to finally pool about her feet. Naked, her long white hair cascading about her back and shoulders, she knelt before the altar of Eilistraee, under witch-light which mimiced soft moonlight.

As her hands came to rest upon the blade and hilt of the sword which led upon it, her eyes closed in silent prayer for her House and whatever perils might confront it. When she arose, she glanced to the side, where Hurnaf had stood silent and still as a statue for the majority of her prayer, and whose soft footfalls had barely registered to her sharp hearing on his entry.

She looked into his scarred face, marred with the tortures of his previous owners House many decades ago, his eyes having been taken from him from daring to meet the gaze of one of the drow females of that House. House Lylyl. Only Jem'arils chance presence had prevented his lingering death, under the pretense that he would make a fine food taster, and his blindness would be of no detriment to such a task.

"Hurnaf, no doubt you have heard."

"Yes, Mistress," he replied, his voice low and careful.

"I know it will be hard for you, and I am sorry to put you through this, but I feel it is necessary to attend."

"Yes, Mistress," he said again, his tone still guarded. "I understand. The entourage should be ready within the hour."

"Very well," she said, trying to soothe his fears with her own tone of voice.

Jem'aril unconciously gave him a gentle smile, before realising it was lost on him. She knew that his nerves would be harsh pressed on this party, given as it was the host was the one who had stolen his sight.

 

[ARaynes]

Rauva Lylyl

Rauva sat in her room preparing for the party. This was surly going to be a disaster. After all, wouldn't the other house be prepared to attack had they planned an attack of their own?

Things always seemed to work out for the worse. She knew what she wanted, but would Synafay go along with her plans after all this time? She hardly doubted that it would go as she had planned.

But the only thing she could do is sit, and wait.

 

[Lacewing]

"Aw mother why so glum?" the matron heard behind her and saw her daughter walk out of the shadows "Relax, tonight will be emencily fun, watching the other houses playing thier little games of intgue and social manuverings, and we, with the best possition since no one will dare try anything with us, since we are the hosts of this little gathering of our breathen.

Besides" and she grinned wider "Watching the other matron mothers swet is just ADORABLE!" and she giggled "Just find a hansome male from some other house lay him and send him back wishing he was part of our house insted. All part of the spice that they may try and kill you later" Gedrel sat down next to her mother talking on about what it is exsactly she got out these parties. What she loved about them.

The pure chaos, "The Goddess will be so very pleased mother"

 

[Memnon]

Earlier that "day"

Shi'nayne Xi'ildra

Biting back tears, Shi'nayne stared at the dead bugbear at her feet in disbelief. It had all happened so suddenly. Only a few hours ago, he had been alive. But then Shi'nayne had noticed a spiderweb...

It was precisely the fact that the spiderweb was not torn that had aroused her curiousity. It was plainly newly-spun, and noone had harmed it. So where was the spider? Shi'nayne tapped ever so gently on the web, in a seemingly random pattern, and the web's tiny mistress emerged from a crack, unharmed. "Ah, there you are, little one," she whispered. "My thanks for your tale." Soundless, the dark fay glided back to the hunting-patrol to report.

Gesturing the forward guards of the hunting patrol to a halt, Shi'nayne moved between the troops with a dancer's grace until she had come before the patrol's leader, the steely-eyed priestess Iriane Xi'ildra. Shi'nayne curtseyed before her and gave her reported her findings. "I think we are on the track of more of those accursed gnomes, Mistress," she concluded. "For there has been a plague of them lately, and few other creatures can pass leaving no trace save frightened spiders." Iriane nodded, and spoke her orders. The patrollers burst into activity, as they moved to silently hunt down the suspected gnomes.

Shi'nayne was responsible for the hunting party's bugbears, a task a surface dweller might have compared to herding cats - albeit very large and aggressive cats. For although they are related to goblins, and indeed their name means "goblin-bear" in the old tongue, bugbears have none of the herd instinct that characterizes goblins and even hobgoblins. They use their keen sense of smell to hunt prey, such as humans, through the darkness, their catlike stealth to spring ambushes, and their great size and strength to beat their foes down in the ensuing fight. These characteristics made them perfect troops for the dimunitive, but crafty and magic-skilled, dark elves.

But Shi'nayne had developed unconventional methods for controlling the bugbears, and Iriane, a niece of Synafay who had been relegated to the task of leading hunting parties because of her complete ineptness at the internecine politics of the drow nobility, had let Shi'nayne do her job her own way. So Shi'nayne was able to ghost silently ahead of the patrol, while Hruntir, a massive boar who was the leader, or "Hunter", of the bugbears, took on the task of making sure they would all be at the fight.

The fight, when it had come, had been fierce but short. The gnomish party had been an odd mixture: some seasoned veterans and some haphazardly equipped gnomes of unmilitary age and in poor condition. But even as Hruntir had moved to eviscerate a crippled old gnome, a crossbow bolt fired by one of the last gnomish soldiers standing had struck him in the chest and he had collapsed in a heap. Bolverk, the tribe's shaman, had tried to revive Hruntir - although Bolverk's power was negligible compared to Iriane's, the drow priestess wouldn't "waste" her goddess' power on mere goblin-bears - but Hruntir had been dead by the time he hit the ground, and Shi'nayne's revenge on the crossbowgnome, leaving him incapacitated and slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hadn't brought Hruntir back to life.

Shi'nayne was brought out of her reverie by a discreet tap from Bolverk's paw, and looked up to see Iriane approaching. "Good work," said the priestess, nodding at the bugbears, who had gathered together while Shi'nayne had stood bemused and who were now ready to march. "You should kill some of them more often. Without fear, there is no subservience." As Shi'nayne stared in reflexively poker-faced astonishment, the priestess went on. "Good loot on those gnomes. Enough for this raid. We shall return to Narsil, and find ourselves a party in which to unwind." Iriane turned and marched off, and Shi'nayne remembered herself enough to move over to the bugbears and give them the order to follow the elves back to Narsil. But not before she had knelt, and, unobserved by the other elves, cut off a lock of Hruntir's fur with her knife.

As Shi'nayne hiked in silence - a younger bugbear had taken her normal position on point - Bolverk came beside her and started speaking to her in the language of the bugbears. "We know that you elves cannot* grieve," he said. "But it is natural among sows to wail when their mate has fallen. Know that Hruntir fought well and died well, and now hunts his prey in the eternal darkness of Hruggek's plains, in the company of the One from whom all bugbears came." Bolverk chuckled. "Smell the blood!** All the youngsters are on their best behaviour now - each hopes you will choose him as your new mate. And, it is customary among us for a new Hunter to," he paused, "celebrate, by sampling the charms of all the tribe's most attractive members of the opposite sex." Shi'nayne was startled into giving him a glance, for Hunters were always male, and she was certain that bugbears never talked of Hunters taking "members of the opposite sex". Catching her glance, the shaman gave her such an oily leer from his one eye that she couldn't help but grin and strut a few steps in response. He grinned back at her and went on. "Yes, we have talked, and we have chosen you as our new Hunter." And for the third time that day Shi'nayne's face took on the poker-mask of astonishment.

The hunting party marched on, and soon they were passing through one of adamantine gates, back into their home, Narsil.


* He spoke dark elven for this one word, a word usually translated by surface elves as "cannot". But the true meaning of this verb among the dark elves should not be mistaken for "physically impossible" - they have another verb for that. This verb is used to refer to actions which could physically be taken, but no sane dark elf would, because of the pain that the priestesses would put any transgressor through before death finally claimed the transgressor would be so extreme. Bugbear, and indeed most other languages, has no verb explicitly intended for such a concept.

** A bugbear expression meaning, roughly, "Cheer up!"

 

[White Queen]

Synafay Xi´ildra Matron Mother of House Xi´ildra

Synafay looked at her reflection in the mirror in front of her... Perfect... the robe she wore was made of thin strands of black silk which left enough space for her ebony skin to be exposed in specific places, her long legs were practically bare, her torso was covered except for the upper part, which left a fair amout of cleavage naked. She wore a pair of silver bracers ( which posessed magical properties only she knew about ). Her neck was adorned by an onyx black spider that hung just above her luscious breasts. Her white hair cascaded down along her back.

Synafay exits her private chambers and walks towards house Xi´landras main gate where she expects to find her personal guard and both Shi'nayne and Elethemiol. This celebration surely was going to be one to remember...

 

[amon_darknight]

Drizzt

*he looks around making sure no one sees him leave, adn he goes to the courtyard and 12 others appear around him and bow to him and one wizard/fighter steps forward and nods his head as he opens a deminsional portal and they all step through and vanish*

Drizzt: Well there is a party we must attend to tonight, maybe you guys will see some action tonight.... I must go to Matron Synafay, adn see if she needs service

*he looks around to his men, even though he and all them know he is being watched by more than 100 drow hidden in the walls and other places all armed, and they always protect him, just as he looks around he smiles and than two drow walk to his side*

Drizzt: MY faithful adn loyal luitentents, Shard and Falin, how are you today?

Shard: I am fine
Falin: I am fine as well, we will be at the party watching close

Drizzt: Thank you, be ready for my signal

*from the look of it, Falin is a Wizard fighter and Shard is a fighter/cleric, both of them looking very deadly adn very strong, no one would mess with Bregan De'erthe, people know that Drizzt is the leader but question him for being the leader*

Drizzt: well i am on my way to Matron Synafay

 

[Snowkat]

Jem'aril of House Dyimm

Jem'aril rode in the palanquin which was carried through the bustling streets of Narsil in silence, only occasionaly glancing out from the spiderweb curtain of the slave-borne (or supposedly slave-borne) carriage. Her escort, consisting of sixteen of her House's best-trained and equipped warriors, and her two eldest daughters, bedecked in the fineries of High Priestesses of Lloth - though like all the drow who wielded diety-given magics within her House, those powers certainly didn't come from the Spider Queen - marched alongside. A pair of wagons bearing tall urns of rare spices and oils, and rolls of fine silks and satins from the distant surface and cities further abroad in the Underdark, presents intended for the other attending Houses, rolled behind.

Jem'aril herself wore a crimson garment of delicate nearly transparent spidersilk, which appeared darker than its dye truely was due to her dark ebony skin beneath, and was bedecked in expensive jewelry of gold and smooth-cut rubies, shaped like drops of blood, which seemed draped over her bare shoulders and around her neck like strands of a golden spiderweb. Of course, most of the jewelry also held potent magics, as the inner flickering flames of the rubies suggested. Her hair, of the stark white common to drow, was worn in one long braid, and a gold circlet perhaps a fingerwidth wide laid upon her head.

"We are nearing the gates of House Lylyl, Matron Mother" came the soft voice of her eldest daughter outside, through one of the thin curtains which nonetheless kept the sounds of the City at large from Jem'arils ears.

"Make our presence known, though I trust we are already expected" Jem'aril replied.

"Yes, Matron Mother."

 

[Lacewing]

Gendrel Lylyl

The little drow slapped her mother's knee not caring what she thought of the contact and likely use to her daughter's very weird ways.

"I've a party to finish since guests will be showing shortly mother!" and she left the matron to ready herself as Gendrel hopped into a shadow and 'disapeered'

Not really she just made excelent use of fooling the eyes, made harder with the fact that drow eyes saw heat more than light and a shadow was a relitive thing being that nothing was truelly shadowed in the underdark.

Meeting up with her slave she was informed that everything was ready and a small cage of slaves specially chiocen and singled out by the priestes of Lloth were waiting for the evening's sacrafices, as well as a spell book for any demons or such she or the priestes might take it into thier heads to call.

Gendrel nodded and while dressing in a near transpearent gown of spider silk died red as fresh blood her skin turning it into old blood and near black in apearence. She put on the only other few peices of jewlery she chose to waer this evening, a belt of magic and silver that glittered with false fearie lights which hung an asortment of toys and weapons -many which could be used as both- a single thin bracelet she never took off of which use no one knew and a pendant of the spider queen glimmering beautifuly against her ebony skin. Tonight she left her hair down, all 6 feet, trailing behind her like a sea of white cape then made her way to great guests in the hall readied for the celebration waiting for her mother to show and take the seat of honor as the matron of the house.

But mother was nearly always fashionably late.

 

[Lethe]

Elethemiol Xi'ildra

Elethemiol studied himself in the tarnished mirror of his rooms. He was clad in his usual black silk coat and breeches, threaded through with thin silver. An emerald circlet, carved to resemble a snake eating the end of its tail, held his pure white hair in place, the only colour on his person, aside from his electric green eyes, burning in his dark face.

His tail of white hair at the back of his head was threaded through a small, heavy silver ring. His rune daggers were thrust into black leather sheaths. He was dressed to kill. And such was often necessary at Drow celebrations.

He turned, and his mood darkened as he saw his old bed. He'd lie awake there during the long Underdark night, knowing that the moment he closed his eyes, they'd garrotte him. They'd watched him from the open door, older Drow children, hungry red eyes on him. They'd known him for fair game, for a half-breed, and their elders encouraged them to torment him. They would never move the first time he slept, no, they enjoyed the game too much for that. They enjoyed wearing him down, letting his lack of sleep make him careless...

Eleth smiled again. It'd had taken him a while, but he had located each and every one of his childhood tormentors. The first lay coldly dead and naked, her slit throat glistening in the dim light, on a black marble table. Eleth reflexively kissed her on the forehead as he passed on his way out. Necromancy was a passion of his. Sesimonae, and all the others, would soon be learning that pain could indeed exist after death...

He approached the gate of the Xi'ildra House, and bowed low to the waiting Synafay.

'Are we ready, Matron Mother?'

 

[ARaynes]

Rauva Lylyl

I watched the skirring about for the party with a sour feeling in my stomach. It was not going to go well, though I knew that many would still die. The thought of that still pleased me.

It didn't take long though for time to pass and soon the Matron Mother's were being escorted in. I sat apon my throne, waiting and eyeing all who entered.

 

[Memnon]

Shi'nayne Xi'ildra

As the patrol reached the Xi'ildra compound it split up, each group heading towards their respective barracks, cells, or rooms, and Iriane going to report to the captain of the guard or perhaps Synafay herself. Shi'nayne merely wanted to return to her room - a small, albeit richly-furnished, cave in the Xi'ildra officers' barracks. After the patrol, the hunt, the fight, and the march, she just wanted to get drunk and go to sleep, if she had the energy to get drunk.

Returning to her room, she shrugged off her pack, put the heavier weaponry carefully into its rack, and sighed in relief as she removed her black mail. She found and unsealed a small bottle of the green "wine" of the drow. But she had only taken her first sip when she heard a clap outside her door.

"What now?" she thought, and called out "Who's there?" She almost dropped her wine when she heard Iriane's voice. "House Lylyl is hosting a party, and Matron Synafay asked us to attend."

"'Us'", thought Shi'nayne grumpily to herself. "Why me? There are a score of others Iriane could have chosen to guard her." "A moment" she called out, and got back into her gear, muttering a string of curses which any soldier of the surface world would have completely understood.

Shi'nayne emerged from her room to find Iriane dressed in one of the latest styles - a thick, flowing dress, but nothing above the waist save jewelery and makeup. Behind Iriane stood two young male drow in full dress uniform. But the priestess looked at Shi'nayne with pursed lips.

"I told you, we are going to the party. The Matron was impressed when I reported your deeds. So get into a dress. Here's your escort." Iriane nodded over her shoulder at one of the young males. "We don't have long." As Shi'nayne stared poker-faced, Iriane frowned. "You do have a dress, don't you?"

Shi'nayne retreated into her room, horrified. The Matron Mother knew her name? Had asked for her? Was receiving reports of her? Even if the reports were good, for now, this could only lead to trouble. And now she had to go to a party hosted by a foreign House - always trouble - guarded only by some wretched male. Thinking quickly, she shed her gear, shrugged into the one formal dress she owned - black-dyed spider silk with a low neckline, high slits and the opaqueness of gauze - and into her highest boots - the ones with the knives sheathed inside. A spider medallion, a pair of bracelets, a long, sharp, hairpin, and a small pouch on her sash, and she was ready to go.

As the little band emerged into the barracks' common room, Shi'nayne caught a glimpse of another soldier and knew what she had to do. "Myriel!", she called. "Iriane and I are going to a formal occasion, and a priestess of her status could not be seen with less than two escorts. You are to escort me." Myriel, an old campaigner who had fought in the wars of the Underdark and the intrigues of Narsil for centuries, never doing either well enough or poorly enough to be mentioned in reports, gave Shi'nayne a hard look and then nodded. She was soon ready to join them, and Iriane's party moved out and took their places in Synafay's procession moments before it left.

 

[White Queen]

Synafay Xi´ildra Matron Mother of House Xi´ildra

Elethemiol, Shi'nayne and Iriane all arrived to the front gates, they all vowed to Synafay and she motioned the group to start moving... Synafay was sitting in a floating disk of blue light... her personal guard at her sides, they all could see the compuond of House Lylyl at the distance, it appeared other houses were already there... Synafay smiled... It had been a long time since she had meet with matron mother Rauva Lylyl...

 

[Lacewing]

OH IT WAS SO WONDERFUL! the crazed little drow was more than pleased with teh turnout for her little party. Eveythign would be so perfect tonight and the goddess would be pleased!

She danced around greeting her 'guests' a flutter of her goun a mockery of a priestest robes of shear see through fabrics revieling every aspect of her small form. Yet the dark material hide as much as it showed to the heat sensitive eyes of the drow.

Tonight would be wonderful. She thought yet again eying up perpective flings as the males of other houses walked in as guard or other possitions of their house.

Wonderful.. indeed....

 

[White Queen]

.

 

[Lacewing]

 

[amon_darknight]

Drizzt

*looks around as he sees Matron Synafay walking to teh gates of his house, he thinks and than smiles as he quickly runs towards one of the guards and vanishes into thin air, and with no sound at all one of the guards disappears adn Drizzt is walking in line with the gaurds with Matron Snafay. And he approches her pushing one of the other guards back so he can be next to her*

Drizzt: Do not be alarmed Matron Mother, it is only me Drizzt, Leader of Bregan Dearthe, I have only come to talk. You look very beautiful tonight, what will you do at the party tonight?

*keeps in line with the guards adn grins*

 

[Lacewing]

Gendrel watched that rather sexy male talk to the other matron mother, how she would like to have a peice of him! Maybe she would, houses be damned she didn't care and the chaos it caused was a high amusement factor.

She bounsed slightly in place near impassent to get the party going, it was going to be so much FUN!

 

[amon_darknight]

Drizzt

*walks along the other guards looking like them and he just talks to the matron, he sees the other males adn watches them, he sees his sister having a good time and he smiles evily at her*

 

[Lacewing]

She smirked and sighed since it was her brother, always her brother. Why the male her eyes are always drawn to where her brother was silly and weird, but who really cared? ALl was chaos and chaos was FUN!

She stretched sure that he saw her small form and the lines of her body under the rather revieling clothing then she turned to greet her 'guests' with a bright smile that was full of very white teeth.

The spider was on the prowl and who she chose would be spared or fall into her web of chaos and trouble.

 

[amon_darknight]

Drizzt

*he remembers when he and his sister used to mess around with eachother all the time, something turned to another adn they were loving it, and than Drizzt dissappeard for awhile, he has just come back to teh house just a coule of years ago, he has still told no one where he was and what he was up to. He looks at hsi sisters full form and laughs to himself*

 

[Lacewing]

Gendrel looked up at the ceiling and the illustion a couple wizards were maintaining of the spider queen, going from spider to woman then back to spider again.

Masterpeice. She smiled and looked to her mother seated at the throne and then to the gathering crowd, a small cage toteh side with the sacrafices for the night, that is if one of he guests didn't end up being sacraficed insted or as well as. Either way it was going to be fun.

She thought again of her brother and smiled a bit, wondering if she could talk him into wearing a little.. less tonight.

With that thought in mind she thought hell why not?

Drizzt found himself in her small arms and her wisper in his ears "You aren't going to wear all that stuffy armor to my party are you brother.. dear?"

 

[Guest]

Drizzt

*feels her wrap her arms around him, she was the only one that could evade his powers*

Drizzt: and how do you know that i am your brother? I am a guard for the Matron Mother and i do have to wear all this armor, are you going to wear all those clothes?

 

[Lacewing]

"Mother always says it that way. But then how am I to know?" she tickled his side "And you can be just as armored without being so STUFFY!" she giggles ruffling his hair. After all her own clothing had many useful perposes, besides consitring there was very little to the imagination as it was. Very hard to get less than going to nothing at all.

Though that could be quite fun!