Ghost of the stones.

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Paranoia, in most situations it often proved a weakness, but here within the dark world of the Underdark, it proved a potent ally. For within this world of stony sky, many dangers made their nest. Both Eveline and Ein proved blessed with ignorance, yet Zavrosh was burdened with knowledge. He knew all too well the insipid sting of complacency, for decades this was his home, the land of his ancestors. Yet even within the walls of the Drow homeland, the dangers proved even more prevalent. For his home was one of conspiracy, the only way to rise in station was through the blade of a knife. A government based on warring houses and greed, coveting was the norm and from it countless sins were birthed.

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Zavrosh could sense the heighten suspicions of both his female companions, but would not falter in his vigilance. In his eyes only one thing mattered, their survival and accomplishment of the mission at hand. He felt not the need to explain the reasons behind his actions, for there were greater things to consider rather than his paranoia. Those narrowed pale eyes of his found themselves averting from the swarthy embrace of his home. Drifting ever so casually toward Ein as she wove together some sort of spell, magic, elven magic coursed through the vast tunnels.

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The Fungi men understood her reasoning, showing no sign of aggression or resistance the four of them remained still. Her offering of peace proving a comforting sign in contrast to the world they have known. A world populated by elves who have forgotten the calls of the wild, the song of stone and wind, the basking rays of the sun. Beings whose hearts were darker than their ebony skin, hearts shriveled and harden far more than the stone around them.

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For now they will serve Ein, proving an extension of her will and arm. An act that will undoubtedly prove vital toward her own survival and that of the party. Eveline had remained silent, knowing not what to say as the spectacle unfolded around her. She was lost, lost to this alien world and its laws. Though facing the simple horrors of the Underdark, the Tiefling found herself admiring the resolve and strength of her Drow friend. How many stories of his remained unsung, for since they have met Zavros valued silence. Shielding her from his past, from his sins and laments, the likes of which she couldn't hope to understand.

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In such a world as this, idle hands often led to one's demise. Here one had to watch their back and front, always pressing onward less they suffer a cowardice deaqth. For within these walls rang an old Drow proverb, the deadliest knife of all is the Unseen one. For those who allowed themselves to relax for even a moment, often faced peril if not tribulations, a fate Zavrosh desired to avoid. "Let us be off." He whispered, not wanting to give away their position, for not even he knew what else may be creeping in the shadows.

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Those curious gazes still fixated on them, of this he was certain; however he had no interest on figuring out their intents. For his mind, just like Evelines was focused on a single goal and purpose, the accomplishment of their mission. With a wide yet casual stride, the Drow navigated the narrow tunnel with ease, leading the group deeper into the bowels of the Underdark. All the meanwhile he could sense that they were being stalked, undoubtedly by the same eyes that had rested on them for so long. Zavrosh had feared that soon they'd find themselves in battle, though what frightened him the most was the mystery behind their pursuerers. For he knew neither their intent, nor their number least of all their identity. If they were Drow, than both Eveline and Ein were soon to engage in a fight unlike any they've ever known.

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Mur'Dalla


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Zuahnaliah​


Finally relief had set in, as he felt the distance between their followers grow. Foolishly he had assumed that their fading gaze was a sign of retreat. In truth the two had simply moved on ahead, through another tunnel to cut them off. Finally after waltzing down the long tunnel they found themselves entering another opening, one with a lake filled with fish and large and dense mushrooms, that lit up the entire cavern. Suddenly like a black arrow a giant cat leapt out infront of them, as another dropped behind them from a nearby ledge. The cat was foreign, not of this plane and the other being a woman…human!?

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Silence settled in between them as the cat growled and the woman held her blade firmly as if to study this strange lot. How could a human survive in such a world? Least of all a woman…the thought though sexist still crossed the onyx skinned elf's mind. Eveline would be the first to call out to them. "Who are you?" Her words being greeted by only silence, it was clear this woman knew not the common tongue by the confused expression on her face. Finally Zavrosh called out in the goblin tongue. "Friend or foe?"


The woman blinked, understanding his words but pondering why a Drow would speak first, rather than strike. "That depends on you foul Drow?" Her words stung, but also revealed what she was. She use to be a slave, rothe or cattle for his kin. Somehow she escaped and survived…a marvelous feat in Zavrosh eyes. Speaking of which, those pale eyes noticed the heavily enchanted blade and buckler in her hand. Her blade composed not of metal, but energy itself, evoking countless questions.


The fresh wounds on her body, the bandages and scars told a tale of a harsh life. She was no older than twenty yet her eyes were like ice. Frigid and void of hope, a season of death settled within them, a being who moslty survived on one thing...instinct. An intimidating sight to say the least...
 
Ein had been casting, weaving, and spelling a protection spell for her new friends. She cast a protective barrier around them, hoping that it would prevent them from getting stepped on, or what ever it was that tiny Mushroom men had to worry about down in a place as such. Ein could see her spell surround the fungi men as only her eyes could see this special type of magick.

As she heard the Drow's call to attention, she followed his order and carefully walked behind him. Only then, did a black feline with colourful markings block there way. What kind of feline would be down in- And down, from above, jumped a human woman. She wore the same scaring and flesh wounds as Ein did. Had she been a slave to the Gnolls as well? Where had she come from?

Ein heard the woman speak up, and Ein being born of high-blood, understood her tongue. Ein was expected from even a young age to be versatile in many tongues should the occasion ever strike where she may need to make peace, or speak to a neighbouring race. She recognized the woman's speak as an form of Goblin. Ein was somehow surprised that the Drow knew it. Being born in a place like this did not seem to Ein as a reason to know such a language. She was mildly interested, but also admired that the Drow had held back restraint and not pounced on the woman as opportunity would have let him. She admired him for that moment in time.
 

Few understood drow society, for by nature the Drow were reclusive if not enigmatic at best. Aside from their vivid fascination with spiders and their dark nefarious entity Lolth, not much else was known. But Mur'dalla, this strange human knew more about drow culture than she cared to admit. For decades they were her cruel masters, though the term Mistress seemed more appropriate considering how women ran their government. Assuming the term government did the chaotic power struggle any justice. For despite their art and fanatic religion, the Drow had little government to speak of. At best it was but a shell game.
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The Drow had many prisoners from various races, Deep gnomes, grey dwarves, goblins, bug bears and even the occasional human. As such all Drow knew the Goblin tongue, as well as their colorful language. Zavrosh noted Ein's expression of shock, assuming it to be nothing other than the knowledge of the tongue he'd brush it off. Not holding her own ignorance against her, for few, let alone a surface elf understood the harsh reality of his people.
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The crimson skinned Tiefling with honey glazed eyes was at a lost, unable to understand or follow the flow of conversation. Instead opting to assume her combat stance as a precaution, for this chance meeting stood the infinite potential to go awry. The drow calmed his comrade by a simple wave of his hand, as if to say all was well. Mur'dalla noted his sating of his companion, even more perplexity dawne don her pale face. What manner of Drow was this who did not hunger for blood, who did not desire to slay an escaped slave? She could only wonder…
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The giant multicolored feline remained still, assuming a pouncing position with teeth bared. For the giant cat was not followed, only knowing his kind as the cruel evil beings they were. Zavrosh gaze drifted toward the cat, sighing heavily as her folded his arms against his chiseled bosom, his elbows resting on the hilt of his twin blades. A sign within the Underdark of peace, one that caught even the feline by surprise.
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Mur'dalla grinned, finding the sight to be amusing if nothing else. For the first time in her life a drow sought peace with a slave, oh how poetic and ironic sense of humor the God's did surely possess. "Why do you not strike me?" she questioned, her words confusing the Drow. Zavrosh was however pleased to see some rational side still remained. That somehow despite enduring countless days with death, this human still retained her senses. "You're no foe of mine." He retorted.
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The human chuckled, she thought herself a foe of all drow, what made this one so different? Perhaps he was no scout or slaver, perhaps just a rogue? The thought had done little to diminish her paranoia though, for his intents still seemed obscured to her. And the only thing worse than a Drow, was one whose purpose remained unknown.
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"I thought I was an enemy of all drow?" Her accent of the goblin tongue nearing perfection, her animal like gaze now shifted toward the surface elf. "Why have you aligned yourself toward one of such dark skinned?" She questioned aloud. More so curious, why the dreaded enemy of the Drow, now followed him around like some lackey? "Are you a slave as well?" She boldly questioned Ein, unaware of her past with the Goblin and Gnolls.
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A frown now settled on Zavrosh onyx face, as he tuned to face Ein's way. A sense of sincerity emitted from his expression, something both the feline and strange woman noted. Though Eveline knew not what was being said, she figured something foul had been spewed from this pale woman's lips. The Tielfing offered Ein a supportive gaze, Mur'dalla could only arch a brow at the scene.
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"The Drow are cruel, venomous beings only meant to be slaughtered for the good of all other races. Join me elf, let us strike down this plague." Her words bold, filled with hate. Offering a brief glimpse into her past with zavrosh kind, perhaps something Ein could relate to. Zavrosh knew if anyone could prevent needless bloodshed it was her, for these two women shared a common, regrettable bond.

"I am no Drow!" Zavrosh declared, his voice riddled with a sense of anger. Long ago he cast away the rite of his heritage, denying his homeland after the death of his entire house. Ever since than he has been the vatar of shame for the Spider queen and her followers, the Drow people. His proclamation undoubtedly birthed many question and even more confusion. Mur'dalla knew not what to make of this one, a troubling epiphany in her eyes. For he was without a doubt a Drow. Yet he denied such ehritage, something no Drow, even a male would dare to do.
 
Ein did not know how to interpret the situation. She stood there, dumbstruck, for a good moment or so before she stood straight again. "I am aligned with no side, friend." Ein treads carefully with her words as to not offend either party. "Think me as a mediator for the two sides." The wood elf help up her pale hands and bowed her head the slightest bit -the Elven way of showing peace. "I am repaying a life debt to this woman here," Ein gestured to Eveline with her one hand, and put down the other while raising her head again. She smiled at Eveline, and made a silent promise to translate all that had happened soon after this needless fight was over. "I have joined the Tiefling, and the Drow on their journey as payment for saving my life. They saved me from being held as a slave at a Gnoll camp, so I am indebted to both of them. You have no squabble with the Drow, he has done nothing to you, and you have my word that I will make sure he does not try to." Ein snaps a warning glare towards the Drow and, just to emphasis her point, she uses her magick to conjour up her Green magick, and heats her hand. She places the hot hand on the Drow's arm as a warning, not to hurt him, her hand was not hot enough to hurt him. This was merely a show of what she could do. "I will, regrettably, not join you. My feet stay with these two. Perhaps... you could come as well?" Ein looks to Eveline, and then to the Drow to gauge their reactions. Only then did she remember that Eveline could not understand, so Ein did a quick translation. Only then did she look at their faces.
 

Tension had begun to set in between the two parties; it seemed violence was all but inevitable. When suddenly Ein stepped up to the plate, attempting to sway Mur'dalla opinion on the Drow Zavrosh, a feat easier said than done. With narrowed eyes the human carefully observed the Elf, she had heard of her kind, treacherous and evil beings beyond that of the Drow. Or so she had heard from her mistresses, which spun a tale of hate and lies even toward their slaves.


She remembered the countless hours of work, being used as a guinea pig by Sorene, the school of mages. The snake headed whips favored by the female drow whose sting could be liken to death itself incarnate. Her world, her perception was warped, much like the winding tunnels and twisting shadows of the Underdark. What if her old captors were right? And Zavrosh was actually a thrall of this vile surface elf?


Such thoughts couldn't help but creep into her mind, though she had learned before that not all Drow legends were true. Mur'dalla knew of many rumors and legends, many myths and fables, both beautiful and dark. However the problems with things people say is that more times than often, they usually proved nothing more than bullshit. A truth she couldn't retort so easily, forcing her to consider both options.


Those unnaturally frigid eyes of hers wandered from the lot and toward her feline companion. Who at the moment had relaxed its stance, whilst still remaining somewhat on edge. Long ago Mur'dalla had learned the hard way to hearken toward her animal friends instincts, for they ofttimes proved far more accurate than her own.


Zavrosh could sense the human faltering in her conviction, a promising sign that offered plenty of opportunities. The Drow would be lying if he refuted the fact that the thought of striking her now hadn't crossed his mind, but as soon as his Drow blood had begun to stir within him. Ein stretched out her hand, threatening him as warmth like that of the sun now teased his skin. Magic, foul magic, how Zavrosh hated those who weave it. Finding them to often be squishy, and frail once the distance had been closed.


Eveline nodded her head as she listened to the Elven maiden, those honey glazed eyes drifting to Zavrosh. She knew little about her companion, but one thing she was certain of beyond a reasonable doubt. Was that her Drow friend, hated magic no doubt hailing from his past? The crimson tiefling frowned and sighed, her eyes telling Ein it would be best if she let go of their onyx skinned friend. But in a way that would hopefully escape the attention of their not so friendly human guest.
Like ghost from his past Zavrosh felt the haunting memories of his past play back in his mind.


Tightly the Drow clenched his fist, desperately reminding himself that those days are long gone. In their place no longer lingered pain and misery, rather hope and companionship. A life void of purpose and reason replaced by the principles he shared with Eveline. Such thoughts managed to keep the pain at bay and sooth his boiling Drow blood. Once more becoming the rational being that he was…


The giant cat could sense Zavrosh inner disposition, as could Mur'dalla, she suspected the Drow would suddenly burst into rage. Yet something unexpected happen, he soothed his own inner demon, those urges that often have adorned this young woman's body in scars. Both physical and mental, for the Drow abuse the mind far better than they do the body, for visible scars are trivial compared to those unseen.


"Maybe you're no Drow. This makes you no friend either…" She purred, lowering her weapon. "But…" Mur'dalla paused long enough to avert her gaze toward the elf. "This make you no foe either. Why are you here than? Why return home dark skinned elf?" She questioned, without restraint. Zavrosh remained silent for a moment, exhaling heavily as he ran his dark fingers through his snow white mane. Offering Ein a reassuring gaze, as if to tell her all was well.


"We seek to end the goblin and Gnoll uprising." He replied with sincerity, even , Mur'dalla could sense the honesty in his words. An expression of confusion once more plastered itself on her pale face. "The same who enslaved the light skinned elf?" She questioned, not really knowing what else to call them either than their race. Zavrosh nodded his head, as to his surprise, the life had been sucked out of Mur'dalla's face. She knew something, of this much he was certain. "What do you know?" He inquired into, the Drow unsure whether or not the revelation would prove of any value to them.


"You seek the old stone. Protected by the Illithid." Zavrosh knew what an Illithid was, but not what this old stone was. "Old stone?" He questioned. "No words can explain…" She paused pointing down a far passageway. "It must be seen." The Drow sighed, knowing Illithid to be bad news. For few in the Underdark have meant their kind, even fewer of the surface world. They went by another name, one less pleasant, The mindflayer.

 
Ein relaxed her stance once the Drow seemed that he was once again calm and resolved. Perhaps she could use a-... No, based off of Eveline's look, Ein should not push her luck with the Drow and her magick. Ein turned her attention back to the human and offered her hand as a way for the human to feel more at ease. Was it not human custom to offer a hand for shaking, thought Ein when she recognised a look of confusion from the human. "Greetings, human whom I have no name to call, I am known as Ein." The wood elf continued to offer her hand, awaiting to see what the human would do. If the woman shook hands with the elf, Ein would consider it a temporary peace. However, should she reject the hand, then Ein would be forced to think of other means to escape her and friends from this womans fiery vengeance that had nothing to do with them.
 

Long ago, her village fell victim to a Drow raiding party, her family and friends were all murdered. But she was spared and brought to the Underdark to become a slave. Even now Mur'dalla could barely recall the details of the attack, but the one image that still imprinted itself in her mind was their brutality. A perception that has yet to alter, for her years spent as a slave did little to diminish their depravity in her eyes. Even now, wrapped in shadows, Mur'dalla had trouble recalling what the sun looked like. For she was still very young when her peoples fate were sealed, her knowledge of the common tongue, and of her peoples customs also had faded.


So as Ein stretched out her hand the woman could only stare out of confusion. Her face wrinkling with an expression of perplexity, not anger. A sign that she hesitated not out of distrust, nor hatred, rather a sense of bewilderment by this gesture, in many regards this birthed frustration. For a moment those cold eyes did linger at her slender elven hands, breaking contact to drift upward toward her face. The Feline with sleek muscle who moved with elegance and efficiency, much like an arrow, yawned. For she no longer found these strangers to be threatening, evoking a sense of ease within Mur'dalla's mind.


For this cat had proven her only anchor to sanity, keeping the beast of instinct at bay. A monstrosity that has both saved and damned her soul, for years she has spent wandering these tunnels, hunting any and all Drow who wandered from their blacken gates. Ein was this strange woman's name, one who had summoned and commanded the benevolent Fungi men of the grove. The only beings in the Underdark who preferred to observe, rather than attack. Their simple and uniform existence had been the source of much envy for Mur'dalla, who craved to socialize with others more so than anything else.


It was this need, this curiosity that forced her hand. Choosing to approach this strange lot, instead of stalking them from the shadows "Mur'dalla, that is the name I was given by my mistresses." She replied, slowly grasping her hand, unsure of what to do next. Her name would mean little to the others, but Zavrosh grasped its meaning with ease. It basically meant human slave, for it was more of a title than an actual name. This was to be expected, after all the Drow seldom name their captives.


Zavrosh exhaled, wanting to bestow this one with an identity not bound to the horrors of his homeland, but struggled with the fact that this was not his place. The onyx skinned elf averted his pale eyes from the human female, instead permitting them to linger on Ein. Meanwhile the giant feline rose from it's seated position, making its way toward her mistresses side. Perhaps the term mistress was a bit too forceful, maybe the term friend was more applicable, Zavrosh did wonder.


Eveline had grown tired of their use of the goblin tongue, and longed for them to use the common one. The tiefling hated the darkness and the silence; she found them both to be a strain on her mind. The vulgar and brutal nature of the Goblin tongue wasn't pleasant to the ears, and seemed limited compared to Elven, Drow or the common. "Ask her where we should go?" Eveline posed, knowing full well that this one knew more about the Gnoll and Goblin uprising than all of them combined. For Ein had translated this much to her just a few moments ago.


Zavrosh could not refute her logic, for if this one knew where to go days would be cut out of their adventure. And none, not even Zavrosh cared to linger within the Underdark for that long. ZFor both Mur'Dalla and Zavrosh understood the dangers of this world, and how a group would attract the attention of those truly gruesome sentient beings. Drows, Beholders, Illithid, Deep Dragons, Grey dwarves, Deep gnomes and Bugbears; all of which would prove a challenge, some more so than others.


"Do you know the way toward this ancient stone?' Zavrosh found the goblin language to be rimitive, always he had to choose his words wisely. For it was a threatening, vulgar and unintelligent tongue, where friend could very well mean master pending on context. Mur'dalla eyed the Drow, still not trusting him and harboring much hate despite Ein's words. Something Zavrosh would not hold against her, for he too would feel the same if her were in her shoes.



"Yes, but you will die if you go." Her retort was sour, yet seemed genuine enough. Still the prospect of death did little to morph either Zavrosh or Eveline's stand point; they've gone too far too simply turn tail and flee. "I do not fear death." The Drow proclaimed, his words causing Mur'dalla to chuckle. She found him to be amusing at the moment, if not brash and foolish, perhaps the elven female may prove more reasonable? "What of you?" Mur'Dalla questioned Ein, arching a brow as her nails ran across her feline friends thick Mohawk like mane. The cat purring as she closed her eyes.

 
Ein had watched the Drow and human exchange words for a few moments while gauging both of the dark elf's and the humans facial and body expressions. The human, as it seemed, had calmed down quite so, but she was still a tad on edge. Something Ein could not blame her for. In fact, Ein was still not privy to complete content just yet either. The visions and memories of being held captive still stung in in Ein's mind, and she wished nothing more then to be rid of them.

When Mur'Dalla turned her question towards Ein, the wood elf chose her words carefully, sensing that this was a test. "I am taught by my people to not fear death, as it is a natural part of every beings life. My people's souls become one with the woods we share with the forest, and our bodies become new tree life. So to say if I am afraid of death, I fear I will have to say nay. However," Ein drew out the last part of her confession because of the memories of her people plagued her at that particular moment in time. But with her mask of falsehood, she pretended that she was fine again, and was ready to finish her sentence. "However," she began again, "I am afraid to die."
 

The wood elf seemed the more level head, despite living for centuries; she still understood the frailty of her body. Something most elves have forgotten, choosing instead to slowly live out their lives whilst steadily perusing their ambitions. As a human, Mur'dalla would be lucky to live past her 60th birth year, she had no time for rest and the threat of death always loomed over her head. If somehow she dodged the sword, she wouldn't even live one tenth of the Drow's life.


In this regard the two being had very different perspective regarding the passing of time."Death you may not fear Drow, neither will it fear you." She warned, not caring if her words fell on deafen ears. Zavrosh understood her warning, but in truth he had not feared death for a single reason. He had already died before, as such he knew what to expect whenever the bell tolled for him again.


Instead of offering this human any words, the drow elf simply shrugged his shoulders, not caring to engage in such idle bantering. For all beings feared the unknown, often failing to regard what they've already experienced.


Mur'Dalla may have lacked certain social skills, but her frigid eyes were still keen enough to sense his lack of interest in the matter. Feeling sated she ignored his shrug and instead turned her attention toward Ein, purposely ignoring Eveline's want to press onward. "I know not of the soul and where it goes. But one thing I can say for certain, everything bleeds, and everything dies. That is why she is my Goddess, Death is my mistress. It is the only truth absolute, to fear is to respect her, and the lack of fear will only arouse her anger." She forewarned, stepping pass the lot.


The feline followed close alongside her as they creep forward, her eyes narrowing as she attempted to recall her way through this stony maze. This labyrinth of death where only the strongest survived, where the weak and kind have no place, a world suited for her unbridled anger. "I will lead you toward the ancient stone, but do not blame me when they descend upon us. One final warning…show no mercy, for you will receive none."


Zavrosh understood this mentality all too well, for it was an unwritten law of the land. Strike first, kill without question, than perhaps wonder later. Whatever humanity this Mur'dalla possessed, was quickly fading under the harsh realities of this world. One not suited for her kind. In this regard he pitied her, for though she still drew breath, her life was quickly fading. How many souls have lost themselves to this call? The call of the Underdark…


Mur'dalla proved true to her word, leading the group carefully across the narrow corridors and clearings. The air was hostile, as something unnatural pulsated throughout the stones. Yet the closer they approached the nest, the less life stirred within the shadows. Some might find this a relief, but Zavrosh and Mar'dalla knew better. For whatever chased away a Hook horror, would indeed prove a formidable foe. "When you see the old stone, focus not on the Illithid, keep your eyes on the one who does not belong. The one whom they serve."


Her words struck Zavrosh as inaccurate, for the Mindflayers served only themselves, if they indeed were under the banner of another, than this being must have been immensely powerful. "Are you sure they follow another?' He dared to question, his distrust wounding Mur'dalla, but no worse than the wounds his kind had inflicted on her before. "Wait and see if you don't believe me." She retorted, Zavrosh slipped into silence seeing no need to press the matter any further.Finally the group approached a tunnel leading deeper into the Underdark, deeper into the bowels of the earth.


As they passed through its threshold a green light came from the cracks within the floor. Acid…pools of acid. Suddenly the cracks began to widen as they pressed forward, the once solid floor had become several catwalks hanging over this sea of corrosive liquid. "We are almost there…" She warned…
 
Ein knew where she stood with death, and she would allow its embrace anytime it should call. She had been alive for a while, yes, but the Drow had been alive longer, and with that age came wisdom and knowledge of things that she did not. So, she was instilling her life in his hands, in a sense. As Ein listened to the Drow and the human banter back and forth, she heard the new knowledge of the humans warning. What would the place look like that awaited them?
 
Part 3 "Ghost of the stone."
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"In the darkness, where the passing of time seemed nonexistent, where the seasons did not change and only the strongest survived. I found my principles, those strict rules that governed my life thus far, being tested without mercy. Within the heartless stone world, I found my pillars of strength. Zavrosh my dearest friend, Ein and Mur'Dalla stood as a beacon of hope, a crutch I could lean on to endure the harsh realities of this realm.
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Looking back on those days, I recall the song of stone reverberating from the stony chambers. If only we could understand their song, and hearken to their sovereign call. Maybe then we could of avoided the disaster that loomed over our heads. If I could turn back time, would I alter my course? Would I avert my gaze from my mission as my principles were contorted and morphed? Sadly I fear the answer is a yes…
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But what is done, is done. I have no real regrets and am thankful for the ultimate course these serious of events have led me down. For back in those days I was as I am now, a pilgrim. Helplessly being tossed about the chaotic waves of this sea of blackness, grasping to whatever tangible emotion I could to endure those crashing, relentless waves.
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I recall to this very day that feeling, the feeling of hopelessness that hung heavy in the stale air. A feeling that grew stronger as we boldly ventured beyond those catwalks which hung above a sea of jaded acid. Soon though, soon we would have a face for our enemy. Though we could yet fathom the gap between us as beings, a gap greater than that between heaven and hell itself.
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But with the aid of friends, I was able to endure, endure that vile world. A world known only as the Underdark…"​
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The boiling pools of acid beneath the catwalk emitted potent heat signature. The once useful infrared spectrum vision of the Drow, suddenly became of little avail against the rising steam. Beads of sweat rolled down his chiseled and defined form, as his white man stuck to his skin. They have only been here for no more than ten minutes, yet the heat proved a great burden for such little time. Even Eveline found herself succumbing to the relentless heat, that was in complete contrast with the warm and steady temperature of the Underdark.​
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Such bodies of acid were not uncommon, yet the magnitude and potency of this sea seemed off. As if it was unnatural, birthed through foul magic, or a failed experiment of some powerful wizard. No matter the cause, the obstacle proved intimidated as the lot traversed the narrow catwalks supported loosely by a few stalagmites.
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Their human guide and her abnormal feline friend seemed unbothered by this discovery, as if they had crossed through such dangerous terrain before. The cat took the lead, ensuring the path ahead safe enough for passage. It's sleek muscles on full display as it gracefully, and with caution, crept ahead. Weighing more than the others, clocking in at roughly 600lbs, it proved the wisest option. If its sheer weight didn't destroy the catwalk, than the light weight elves and their tiefling and human companion could pass by with confidence.
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"It isn't much further…" Mur'dalla whispered, as if to help conceal their presence. A wasted effort Zavrosh thought, for the light emitting from the pool of acid illuminated the entire region. Enough so that even those of the surface could clearly make out the terrain. The sudden brightness proved harsh on her eyes, living in total darkness for most of her life, Mur'dalla like most of the Underdark population had trouble dealing with light.
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Eveline could only wonder what sort of trauma this woman endured. Being a slave was never easy nor ideal, but the Drow were famed for their brutality. A reputation that even Zavrosh would admit was merited, and not exaggerated in the least. Though this human wore a mask, the crimson skinned Tiefling could see through her flaccid disguise. For her outward scars the decorated her flesh, were hardly as deep and pronounced as the psychological ones.
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Even if she left with them, Eveline doubted this woman could ever fully recover. For a human hardly lives as long as an elf and even after centuries after his departure, Zavrosh was still burdened by his own scars. The Drow needn't admit it, for words proved unnecessary at this juncture, Eveline could sense it and knew him well enough to see the sting in his stride. Something that eluded most no doubt…
<o:p></o:p>
"Almost there…" Eveline purred in the common tongue, almost so low that it was barely audible to those nearby. Finally the group found themselves standing within a circular platform, suspended by two pillars of stone. Here Zavrosh stepped near the edge, removed his noisy chainmail armor, tossing it into the acid. MJur'dalla seemed to approve of this, whilst Eveline frowned, for that was a gift from her to the Drow.
<o:p></o:p>
"Sorry…" Zavrosh whispered. "It was making too much noise." He elaborated, but his words did little to soothe the Tiefling's feelings. Mur'Dalla's gaze drifted toward the male, observing his chiseled frame, scars and pale tattoo markings. Body's marking were rare amongst his kind, especially for a male…she found how they stood out next to his onyx skin to be…distracting to say the least
<o:p></o:p>
Suddenly the feline began to growl, teeth bared as the party began to look around frantically. Yet not matter how hard they stared, nothing crept into view. "What is it?" Mur'Dalla asked, if the cat understood it gave no sign. Instead it permitted her words to flow one ear at the other, as its animal instincts told it something was very wrong.
<o:p></o:p>
Suddenly from the ceiling they descended, three being that levitated effortlessly in the air. Each adorned in a fine robe, their fine garments doing little to distract from their disgusting faces. That resembled an octopus with flailing tentacles, and slime dripping from where its mouth would surely have been. A gurgling roar echoed throughout the scene as the creatures each began to fire three telepathic blast, a "Fwoop" sound escaping their bodies as a blast of invisible energy hurled toward them. All the meanwhile keeping their distance, a fighting style favored for spell casters.
<o:p></o:p>
"Mind flayers!" Zavrosh warned, as countless Gnolls rushed from nearby passages with spear and sword in hand.
 
Dear, Gods!The Gnolls, upon seeing them, rushed forth many memories that Ein preferred to keep hidden away in the white-haired head of hers. And these new terrifying beings that clung near the ceiling, sent Ein into a dither. The pitch black world that she had so willingly walked into was starting to prove the wrongness that her gut had been telling her from the beginning: this place was dangerous.

Ein instinctively called her weapon to her hand using her magick. Damn the Drow's dislike of her Green magick, she needed it now more than ever. She quickly cast her weapon spell aloud, and from that incantation, a Willow staff appeared. The brown barked staff had white Paper Birch winding around the shaft and leaves of ivy that grew from the top. Ein assumed a ready fighting stance and looked quickly at the Drow for their next move.
 


It was true that Zavrosh despised magic, especially that of any elven origin. But the Drow was not so foolish as to deny its usefulness, nor was he one to frown on any antic that could save his life. Their current situation proved ill, surrounded by gnolls and mind flayers now soared above them. Firing cones of mental blast their ways. Even the feline understood their state of peril as it assumed a pouncing position before leaping from one catwalk to the other. Crushing a Gnoll under the influence of it's muscles and weight. One down, Zavrosh thought to himself before rolling out of the way of a mental blast.


Mur'Dalla knew of the Illithid, she had seen them before dragging away thralls to serve their community. But it wasn't till today that she actually had to battle against one of their foul kind. With blade in hand the human ignored the floating mindflayers knowing she couldn't hope to reach them at the moment. Instead choosing to follow the lead of her feline companion, jumping to the other catwalk, as she swung her blade toward an unsuspecting gnoll, sending the goblinoid to plummet toward the pool of corrosive acid.


Zavrosh was confident these two would prove a good enough distraction for the Gnolls, leaving Ein, himself and Eveline to deal with the levitating foes. Eveline assumed her warrior, stances, pulled her right fist back and clenched it. Sending it forward as she hurled a shards of rock their way. With grace the octopus faced men zagged in between the blows, dodging every projectile she sent their way. An expression of shock lingered on her face, as they prepared for another assault.


"Do not let their attacks connect, you will loose consciousness!" Zavrosh yelled, hoping his companions would heed his warnings. Meanwhile the Mindflayers chuckled, admiring their petty attempt to survive. It became apparent that these beings were toying with them, no doubt trying to evaluate the usefulness of each new slave. In the hopes of being able to price them properly in the auction house, something that ndoubtedly would elude both Eveline and Ein.


"Cast your magic now!" Eveline barked at Ein, sending another barrage of shards their way. This time the mindflayers did not move, instead they put up a barrier that simply turned the rocks into dust. A sight the caused the Tieflings heart to sink with dismay, this was her only long range attack. Normally she could hurl a boulder, but this room proved far too unstable for such bold antics.


Mur'Dalla noted their dismayed as she kicked another gnoll into the pool of acid. Her feline now feasting on the face of the pinned opponent. "Fight or be saves, the choice is yours!" She retorted, hoping to stir some sort of reaction from them.


Suddenly the room seemed to freeze, even the Illithid dared not to move as a clap reverberated from off the stone walls. "Bravo!" Suddenly an old man, frail in appearance with eyelids that could barely stay open stepped from the shadows. Melting into the green hued light, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned forward on his cane. "The ancient stone!" Mur'dalla exclaimed, the old man rubbing his long white beard out of confusion.


"Ancient stone..Ancient stone…" he whispered under his breath, as if questioning to himself. "Ah! That's the title the pech gave me, before I destroyed their settlement." He explained, taking a few more steps forward. "I will make you all a deal, if you can lend one hit on me I will order my thralls to stand down. You can retreat and keep your minds intact. To make this easy..I won't move or use my hands!" His words reeked of arrogance as both hands rested on the head of his staff.

"What say you?"

 
"I say to hell with you!" Ein spat. She did not like bullies, and tolerated none who bragged about bringing down a group of peoples. She raised her staff above her head, and her other arm as well while muttering a powerful, ancient incantation under her breath. The spell was one of many millennia, and one that stretched back to when her own people had started to cast spells. It was one that would take a lot out of the small woodland elf, and she debated its usefulness. Surely, it could land a hit on that scoundrel of an old man, but it could perhaps destroy much of the cave as well. And Ein was not sure that she would have enough power to draw from down in the cave. She started to cast the spell, ignoring the fact that she may be out like a light afterwards. The green light of her magick started to expel from her staff, and if there were any objections to her using this magick, then they must speak up, or Ein may not be able to pull the spell back once it starts to release its self
 

The old man sensed the powerful ancient magic of eons past coursing through her body. A brilliant display of green magic, something hewould praise her for, if he cared to. Truth be told as quickly as his interest peak, it diminished. A heavy sigh parted from those wrinkled lips of his as boredom quickly set in, he was hoping for a challenge and already they have taken too long. If this was a real fight than they would have all been dead already, so he mused, the morbid thought birthing a sinister grin.
<o:p> </o:p>

"Well elf what takes you? I am more likely to die of old age, than you are to finish such a spell." The elderly man spewed his words ever so insipidly, pondering if his words would evoke any reaction? The youth often were prone to rash emotions and even more rash actions.
<o:p> </o:p>

Zavrosh understood his trick, but failed to understand the gravity of his words. He wasn't just taunting them, rather trying to display the futility of their actions. Something about this man wasn't right, it seemed off when compared to other humans. In fact something in his gut told him that this wasn't a man at all, let alone human. But such deductions lacked any proof, and so he brushed them aside as quickly as they had formed.
<o:p> </o:p>

The brilliance coursing through Ein's slender elven body caused Eveline to become struck with awe. Not wanting to be outdone, the tiefling female reassumed her warrior stance, bringing her elbows tight to her body as she called upon her innate ability to morph and harness stone. Raising a few boulders into the air, preparing to send them forward as soon as her comrades spell had been completed.
<o:p> </o:p>

The Feline let out a thunderous growl as it leapt from gnolls to gnoll, taking advantage of the distraction to viciously take out as many sentries as possible. The sight of brutality caused the wrinkle old man's face to become plastered with disgust. "Tame your beast woman!" He bellowed, his words aimed at Mur'Dallas who purposely disregarded his words. "I know not your plans, nor what manner of man you be. But my friend is a free spirit, and thus listens to no one, not even me." Mur'Dalla retorted, thinking herself as clever as she graced the elderly fellow with a smirk.
<o:p> </o:p>

"You children always lack respect, what is becoming of this generation?" Posing a rhetorical question as those heavy eyes narrowed. Despite the females aggression he seemed unmoved by these events. As if they were of minor consequence to him. Taking advantage of the distraction Zavrosh conjured forth a ball of his harmless black flame, casting it over the man. The spell of darkness meant no resistance, nor did the old man move. Remaining true to his word…
<o:p> </o:p>

"Now attack!" Zavrosh screamed, signaling both Eveline and Ein, hoping they'd take advantage of his blind state. "Fools…" The elderly fellow whispered under his breath, his voice as raspy as ever. Slamming his stick on the ground he called on a great wind to gust throughout the room. Instantly snuffing out the Drow's precious flames of darkness, taking amusement in the angered face of the foolish Drow. "Please do not insult me again." The old man scolded Zavrosh as if he were his very father. A wound that stung potently.
 
Ein did not hesitate. She unleashed her Green powers out towards the man - there was no going back now. Her magick caused her body to glow green from her ivy tattoos and her pale blue eyes to become a hue of her colour of magick as well. Ein muttered the spell beneath closed lips, and then -by the gods, may they help her now- she unleashed her mighty vengeance against the old man.

The spell spewed out of her staff and hurled itself towards the man. It would hit its mark.
 

The spell had been woven, it's power unleashed without hesitation toward the Elderly man. The room illuminated with a bright green hue as her destructive rage raced toward the target. Sighing heavily the old man found her attack to be a bother, requiring him to muster together more strength than originally desired. "What a bother…" The man whispered under his breath, the sound of his voice being drowned out by the sheer volume of the arcane attack.


He had grown tired of these young folks arrogance, even now with second left before impact, he could sense the smirks and anticipation of those around him. Friends to this arrogant surface elf, he always loathed her kind, often rising themselves to a station they did not merit, thinking themselves as grand due to their long life spans. In truth, Elven kind were arrogant, it mattered not the color of their skin, for this was a trait shared by all.
<o:p> </o:p>

"So be it! I will humble you if no one else will!" The old man spewed his voice frigid like the first of winters wind. His muscles remained stationary as he watched the coming rush of light, the warmth of the spell tingling his flesh providing momentary relief from the stagnant temperature of the Underdark. What happened next would leave all awe struck, without an incantation, without the movements of a single muscles, the spell simply stopped but inches from the being. With squinted eyes the old man attempted to see past the influence of the brilliant flash.
<o:p> </o:p>

Mur'dalla watched the spectacle, offering Zavrosh a nod as they both sprung into action. Foolishly they had assumed that the light had blinded the man, and though they themselves were blind, they were use to fighting without their vision. With a sense of urgency and uncanny speed, the two closed the distance between themselves and their opponent, springing into action with blades at the ready. Suddenly the light had faded, allowing the darkness to creep in once more. With eye close the elderly fellow simply slammed his staff into the ground. Hands of stone sprouted from the earth, one launching toward Zavrosh, the other Mur'Dalla.
<o:p> </o:p>

Being stuck in the air the two fighters had little in the way of options, and no chance to evade his counter attack. The hands of
stone slammed against their upper bodies, sending them flying toward nearby walls. Both Drow and human hit the wall with great force, coughing out blood as gravity sent them falling down to the catwalk. For a moment they remained motionless, desperately trying to remain conscious. The sight amused the old man; he took pleasure in their current state. Almost as much as he took pleasure in the fact he defused the surface elf's magic. Though how he performed suc a feat remained a mystery.
<o:p> </o:p>

Eveline knew better than to wait, she had to do something. Suddenly the three boulders that rose to her call were sent flying his way. Without so much as looking at the attack, the elderly fellow willed the stones to rise, forming a wall that blocked the assault. Shards of stone went flying every which direction, in a matter of minutes he displayed his prowess. Leaving a mark on those that dared to stand against him. "Enough of this! Not a single hit was laid…no doubt you are all left wondering why? Especially that elf, that assumed her magic as grand?" He stated, hands still resting on the head of his wooden staff. That seemed to possess not single trace of enchantment whatsoever.
<o:p> </o:p>

"I will enlighten you than, I willed it. Thus it was. That explains the stone…" He paused, turning to face Ein. "As for your magic, all I needed to do was resonate an opposite frequency around my body. This dispelled your attack. I must admit it was impressive, but it lacked the art necessary to hide its flaws from this old man's eyes." The arches of his wrinkled lips contorted,

birthing a sinister grin.
 
Ein bristled at the old man's blatant nonchalance about her attack. That attack had never failed her before, and whom was this man to stop it? The woodland elf almost started to shake with anger but luckily stopped herself before giving the old man the satisfaction of doing so. What had he said? Something about.. Oh, who did it matter! Ein was out of attacks that would be powerful enough to stop him. He had stopped her Greenlighte spell -one of the most powerful known to her kind.

Ein needed to stop worrying over the effectiveness of her spell, and see if her companions were fairing well. The elf had seen Eveline hurl a boulder or three at the man's way, but none had hit their mark. But what of the Drow? Ein ran over to his side, ignoring the elderly man.
 

The situation seemed dire, despite their valiant efforts the elderly man seemed unmoved, his aura of confidence unaltered by their attempts to keep him at bay. Even now as the surface elf rushed toward the Drow's side a wryly grin was all that did greet them. Something about this spectacle seemed amusing to him, how such mortal enemies could band together he mused.


He found it a shame that such wasted potential would inevitably be snuffed out by his hand; still he'd chalk it up to an act of necessity. Eveline eyed her unconscious companion, before permitting her honey glazed eyes to avert toward Mur'Dalla. Finding her survival to be a miracle considering her slender frame, a sigh of relief parting from those luscious crimson lips of hers, the giant Feline however dared not cast its hungry gaze away from their enemy.
<o:p> </o:p>

Sighing heavily the old man took note of the great cat's fearsome gaze, admiring both its bravery and battle prowess. Watching closely as it recoiled down to a pouncing position, its sleek muscles contorting under the strain of its own weight. Such creatures were rare, even amongst their home plane, let alone amongst this physical domain. "I admire your bravery kitten, but like your masters you're doomed to fail." The man's voice seemed broken and weaken, the only sign he gave of the strain his age had wrought on those bones. The feline tilted her head, her ears pointed skyward as if it could understand the meaning of his words.
<o:p> </o:p>

Whether or not the cat could understand the common tongue had remained unseen, it was more likely the beast could comprehend the underlying tones of their enemy's voice. Like a finely woven tapestry, his words carried an artistic yet bold flow, poised in complete contrast when compared to his brittle mortal coil.
<o:p> </o:p>

Ein's rush to his side had stirred the Drow from his state of torpor, the fresh aroma of the surface world spices pulled him from his unconscious state. Weakly Zavrosh did strain to raise his head, those shimmering pale pools locking with her own as he offered her a reassuring nod, as if to say all was well. His white mane bouncing with the movement of his head, as the onyx skinned elf slowly pushed himself up. Mur'dalla herself had begun to stir, the frigid grip of the floor and the faint growling of her only friend served as a beacon.
<o:p> </o:p>

The elderly fellow arched a brow, truly surprised that both beings had lived through such an endeavor. Still he wouldn't be caught off guard for long, after all his enemies still drew breath. "I see you're not dead yet, good." His words a flaccid façade, truthfully all knew this man cared little for their well being. His concern nothing more than that of a child; who enjoyed pulling the legs off of a helpless ant, one at a time, a morbid thought that did little to belay Zavrosh fears. "Shall we try this again?' His words meant to rile up the party, however none were foolish enough to fall for such a cheap taunt.
<o:p> </o:p>

The Drow finally was able to stand on both his feet, twin blades still held firmly in his grip as he turned to face Ein. "Thank you for your concern…" He paused, the genuine nature of his words over lapping each syllable. "Are you alright?" Zavrosh asked, showing a total lack of concern for his own injuries, ignorant of how much time had truly passed since he was render unconscious. Mur'Dalla's ears though not as keen as the elves, still picked up the Drow's words. Only deepening her confusion toward this one, for he was quite the enigma when compared to the rest of his dark skinned kind.


The tiefling sighed, often she admired his selfishness, but at the moment she found it to be a bit absurd if nothing else. "Just once I'd like you to worry about yourself…" Her words coming across more audible then she liked. Birthing a chuckle from her Onyx skinned companion, finding her sarcasm to be refreshing when compared to their dire situation.
<o:p> </o:p>

"He is strong, more so than I imagined…" The human's words caused the old man to scratch his balding head. "But no one is without flaw!" Zavrosh instinctively replied, his observation though true, did little to sway their foes unwavering arrogance. "I grow tired of this…Can we hurry this along?" The elderly fellow replied, caring little for their blissful reunion, even less for their idle bantering and pointless observations. In truth both Zavrosh and Mur'dalla had begun to formulate possible scenarios, yet despite their efforts, nothing truly tangible appeared within their minds eye. Every outcome they conjured ended ill for them.
<o:p> </o:p>

It would not be Eveline, Zavrosh nor Mur'dalla who acted first, rather the feline who accompanied them. The astral beast had a plan, one it was certain would work. Though she could only hope that her master and her friends were skilled enough to act on instinct once everything fell into place. With a mighty roar the feline leapt toward her adversary, its bloodthirsty eyes serving as quite the sight to behold. "Do you really think I could be bested by a cat!" He bellowed, firing yet another stone fist toward his foe. However what transpired next even caught him off guard.
<o:p> </o:p>

Suddenly as if through some vile black art, the astral beast turned into a thin cloud of smoke. The solid matter of his attack passed through the cat with no apparent effect. Just as the threat had diminished, the creature rematerialized into its natural form, the spell of gravity still launching her toward her target. Momentum could always be deferred, never stopped. Something the critter understood better than anyone else. Eveline remained paralyzed out of shock, this sight granting her an all new perspective toward the majestic nature of their animal companion.
<o:p> </o:p>

As the distance had begun closed, the grooves of its muscle altered as she stretched out her claws and
bared her porcelain white three inch fangs. Without Delay Zavrosh sprung into action, instantly darting full sprint toward the old man. His uncanny speed and agility made him seem as nothing more than a black arrow, cutting through the air before disappearing and melting back into the light. Their foe held the creature at bay through some sort of foul magic. Helplessly the cat floated about, wiggling in the air.
<o:p> </o:p>

Rolling forward Zavrosh finally closed the remainder of space between them, sending both blades horizontally slashing for his belly. Hoping to disarm and kill the arrogant fool in a single swipe. Even Mur'Dalla was shocked by his speed, grace and instinct. Her mouth gaping with awe, praying the crafty little Drow could land a clean hit. Even if the man wasn't true to his word, the fact some blood had been drawn would be a drastic improvement.
 
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