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PostPosted: Fri, Dec 12 2014, 13:46 PM 



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Joined: 07 May 2005

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The sun elf's eyes were filled with despair. He knew there was no hope, but the fear of what was to come pushed him to fight against the iron shackles that bound him upon the altar. He had been stripped of his clothing, his legs and arms secured by the chains. "The black archers will... come for you all." His words echoed in the stone hall of the unholy chapel of the Spider Queen, drawing two of her children towards the altar.

The first daughter of house Ussen d'Vhid easily pushed aside the words of the sun elf in her mind. As she undid the the broach that fastened her piwafi cloak, the spidersilk slithered silently to the dark stone floor. Gently and patiently, she undid the straps of her robe, until her flesh was laid bare before the eyes of lolth. "What Sacrilege is... Shevarash WILL find you! They will all find you... Disgraces!"

Her voice easily carried above the threats and insults of the bound man. Her dark words echoing throughout the chamber. "Great Goddess, Mother of the Dark, grant me the blood of my enemies to drink and their living hearts for meat. Grant me the screams of their young for song!" One of the two great spiders in the room began to weave it's front two legs, almost hypnotically as it peered at the captive with it's eight eyes, clearly lusting after the bound elf's lifeblood.

"Bitch! Take my body! You will -never- take the Seldarine!" Though as he shouted, he soon realized his death was very close. His eyes widened at the two spiders, as the ritual began to seep into his being. In response, the spiders reared up a little, the front legs just shy of touching the elf, furiously clicking as the beady red eyes stared back at him hungrily. The very definition of fear now encaptured the elf as they drew closer. His wounds forcing his body to spasm in pain, he watched in breathless horror.

The fear of the victim seemed to enthrall them, their clicking hastening in pitch, as if urging the priestess on to the climax of the ritual. "Grant me the helplesness of their males for my satisfaction." She slowly reached for an obsidian glass jar, uncorking it. Gently she proceeded to pour the content upon Caldur's chest. Not a fluid, or a powder, but dozens upon dozens of small flesh eating spiders. It had been her personal signature for sacrafices since the days she had studied at Ultrinnan's Arach Tilith under her aunt Mourniss Arabett. "Grant me the wealth of their houses for my bed..."

"Rghh!!! ARRGHHHHHH!" Screaming, Caldur helplessly trashed around as much as his bindings allowed, trying to throw the spiders off. "By this unworthy sacrifice, I honor you, Queen of Spiders! I beseech you for the strength to destroy my foes!"

"SELDA-AAAAAAHH!" Caldur's body began to look like a symphony of thrashing and the spiders biting back in miniscule amounts. Tears began to flow from his eyes, as the priestess reached for the sacrificial dagger. Slowly she raised it with both hands above her head. "By this unworthy sacrifice I honor you, Mother of the Dark!"

"ABOMI-" his words were cut short, as the dozens of small spiders began to devour his neck. With perfectly executed and trained precision, the drow priestess plunged the blade into the lower chest of the sun elf - just beneath his ribcage. Cutting down to his lower stomach, she immediately plunged her hand into his chest cavity to rip out his yet beating heart, only to raise it above her head, to allow Caldur to see it. "With this unworthy sacrifice I honor you, Great Goddess! Lolth to malla!

"ARRGGHHH!" Caldur's eyes were wide at the sight and a scram not capable of the sun elf is released. Then his eyes faded. For a brief moment fairy fire outlined the two large arachnids that stood on either side of the bloodied altar. For a moment, the priestess glimpsed a pair of lips forming on the left most spider's head. Cutting the heart entwine, she gave each of them a half. "May your children devour his heart, as you may devour his soul!"

Lounging at their prize, they began to feast upon it, suckling it dry of every drop of blood in a gruesomely noisy manner. One last time, in fanatic ecstasy that left no doubt as to her devotion, she repeated the three words that Caldur died by. "Lolth tlu malla!" Then the two spiders lounged at the still warm corpse, digging and tugging at it from both sides until it ripped into two halves with a sickening sound. Both halves were quickly carried off by a scuttling spider to a dark corner, leaving the altar stained with fresh blood."

As she turned, blood running down her slender naked body, the pleasure she took from the perverse and gruesome ceremony was evident in her eyes. One of the males cheered in joy, but was also visibly shaken. The sight pleased her. It was a good reminder for those males who might entertain the notion to question the authority of her faith in these difficult times.


 
      
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PostPosted: Fri, Dec 12 2014, 13:48 PM 



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Joined: 07 May 2005

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She had already soaked her pampered self in warm, scented oil and would have enjoyed nothing better to lose herself utterly in the touch of her masseur. The slave she’d chosen for herself was highly competent. He kneaded her neck muscles in a way that was pain and bliss at the same time, wringing a groan of sweet release out of her. She thoroughly enjoyed the newly established luxury of her house. There were few things she enjoyed more than a deep stroke to release the tensions of the cycle’s work.

Yet the city was in desperate straits, even if most cared not to see it. It was a babe in a nursery surrounded by terrible creatures of untold power. Others might embrace the situation for its unparalleled opportunity to enhance one’s own power. She saw deeper. Her race has suffered too many setbacks in recent years. Her schemes extended centuries into the future, and once her own mother would pass when it was time – if necessary by a misfortune of her own creation - she was determined to take the throne of a great city and house of absolute power. Be it decades or centuries. She would not contest the rule over of the damp, unhewn and almost lifeless rock it was now.

That cycle was still in the far distance. The city would need to grow and thrive first. She would not allow herself to become a homeless wanderer again. Her birth mother had ruled Ultrinnan, the greatest of the three destroyed cities. Yet her mother had been weak, she lacked vision, just like the long line of matron mothers that doomed one city after the other. They had not cared for anything more than their own rank and disregarded their ways far too often. They had been blind to aspire to rule anything more than what was. Their petty feuds and lack of nuance and understanding of the ways of their race had weakened the cities, the matriarchy and the faith.

She closed her eyes as her body servant squeezes and rubbed another clenched muscle into warm, limp submission. It was remarkable how she did not even realize they were tight until the masseur got his hands on them.

Yet another opportunity had begun to scream at her far sooner than intended. In Nec’perya, a capable priestess was almost priceless in these dire times. They were too few in number, and the loss of a single one diminished their power as a whole. She had intended to wait, to further establish her power and influence to ensure her ascension would not be contested. Yet she was a drow. A creature of paradox and contradiction. Perhaps she would move in two directions at the same time. It was a promise of greater glory, and the appeal was not lost on her. The hints of danger made it all the sweeter.

She let the tongueless deaf slave know with a gesture of her hand to fetch her spidersilk robe.


 
      
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PostPosted: Fri, Dec 12 2014, 14:02 PM 



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Joined: 07 May 2005

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The deep purple smoke poured from the brazier, coloring the chamber in a hazy glow. It carried an aroma with it, foul with a corrosive nature that burned her nostils and mouth with each breath. Her eyes inspected the summoning circle one last time, to make certain every single rune had been painted upon the floor correctly. After all, she did not care for a minor mistake turning her into breakfast.

Taking a series of deep breaths, the young drow cleared any distracting thoughts from her mind. As she began her ritual chant in the archaic drow tongue, the flames about the brazier began to grow more intense. As the corrosivie smoke continued to fill the room, the foul incantation's passing her lips turned more and more to an angry hiss.

She felt an a presence begin to manifest within the ritual chamber as the summoning drew to it's end. Over and over again the same name was called out midst the incantations. "Caydranth!" The flames heard the call. They roared higher and higher and began to take shape - that of a massive winged repitilian body. The thick purple smoke darkened the room, that even her own eyes could not pierce. Suddenly, as the summoning gate closed, a foul wind dissapated the smoke and blew out the flames, leaving behind only her and the terrible creature looming above.

The indirscent maroon scales covering it's slender and serpentine like form had still not fully changed into the deep, rich purple of an adult. It was a drake of the depth, and the predatory foe of skum, kuo-toas, and even aboleths. It's roaring hiss of anger made her heart skip a beat. Though instead of recoiling and fleeing as her inner voice of reason beckoned her to do so, she drew closer to one of the Underdark's most feared predators. It was a young specimen, but there was no doubt it could rip her apart with ease. That was, could it leave the confinement of the circle it was still bound to.

Pulling a lever at the side, two cages filled with six freshly purchased slaves from Underport were slowly lowered down into the chamber by the chain and clockwork mechanism. As soon as the slaves laid eyes on the creature, their frightful silence turned into screams and wails of fear and despair echoed from the cold stone walls. A gesture of good will, to pacify the angered dragon. And ensurance, their bartering would not be conducted on an empty stomach.


 
      
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