|[IC] From the ashes, the Empire shall rise
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|Author:||Naivatkal [ Sun, Sep 04 2016, 2:32 AM ]|
|Post subject:||Re: [IC] From the ashes, the Empire shall rise|
Through the visor of her darkly colored helm Zrae'a'stra'fryn, the standing Ul'ath'tallar of Nec'erpya, surveyed the isle with eyes like slits. Only just arrived back into these parts of the Underdark a mere cycle after the attack upon the small city, she was understandably surprised by the desolation she witnessed. Slowly the helm turned, scanning the immediate area as her eyes moved outward, taking in the greater area around her. Despite her surprise -and the anger rising beneath- she showed no outward sign of what she was thinking as her hands carefully removed her helm so that her long hair spilled down her back. A hiss of breath escaped her, a prayer accompanying it, and the enchantment of True Seeing was cast upon herself. Zrae's face was impassive, a mask of neutrality.
Without hurry her armored legs carried her through the city, making her way first to the center of it: The Temple of The Dread Valsharess. Crimson eyes scoured everywhere as she walked and upon reaching her first destination she stopped. Avoiding the door at first she made her way around it, slowly and carefully investigating the exterior of the Temple. Though some signs of conflict were found she was satisfied enough to find the Temple itself was relatively unharmed. It was then that she approached the door only to find it locked.
A clenched fist pounded once, firmly, upon the stone portal. Who dares bar the Temple of our most feared Queen of Spiders? she hissed loud enough to be heard by the one that answered. You will open this door this very instant, or you will know Her most wrathful ire through me. Do you not recognize the Ul'ath'tallar of this very Temple!
Oh yes, she was growing all the more furious the longer she had been back. But she mentally stamped upon her fury once the door opened, coming through with all the haughtiness of a priestess. A hand shot up, the movement quick, silencing any attempt to speak to her. And then she moved about the Temple interior, ignoring all else as she inspected it with her deceptive cool demeanor. It was a slow process but once complete the Ul'ath'tallar approached the denizens of the Temple once more.
Not. One. Word. Zrae softly said, her tone cool and soft yet easily heard; the very tone they knew all too well was that which she used when she was most displeased. Those awful, crimson eyes raked over them one by one. First the priestess in order of seniority, then the present matrons, and finally the warriors. Slowly the drowess walked back along the grouping until she reached the middle of their formation then taking herself a few strides away from them. Turning, she regarded them for several long seconds, ensuring they were all focused upon her. When she spoke again it was in that same tone laden with false cordiality. Who wishes to deliver the news as to what transpired recently?
After the report was given she kept silent again. Watching. Waiting. A group of draconic individuals that hailed from L'Obsul? Interesting. Ones who fought their way from the docks all the way to the Temple before giving up? Intriguing. And then, yes, the priestesses and matrons barred themselves in the Temple with the remaining guards. Disturbing. The tale, while distasteful, was nonetheless true for no one would deliver such grave word unless they feared the fate of lying worse than truth. Or, at least, it was mostly true. Perhaps...
Allow me to ensure I have this information correct. A grouping bearing draconic heritage disembarked upon this isle. They attacked, carving into the guards, pushing deeper. Somehow the best of our forces could not stop an incursion of lessers, spreading their taint through this city? And you, each and every one of you, allowed this to happen. There is no excuse as to why you failed in the eyes of our most glorious Dread Valsharess. And then, then, you locked yourselves up in Her Temple like a group of frightened Wastelanders. As she spoke, Zrae's voice remained in that calm, disturbing tone of cool detachment. Those pitiless eyes swept over them slowly, watching, waiting. Every movement, every reaction was taken in by the Ul'ath'tallar. And then she let the silence fall for a brief pair of moments.
Each and every one of you is a failure. the words, devoid of venom, were all the more cruel in that neutral tone. Though, it did not last much longer, escalating into a wrathful voice as she continued. You have failed to protect that which She owns! You are what is left. You allowed those filth to come to the very doorstep of the Spider Queen's Temple! You locked yourselves in like children afraid of the whip! I should by all rights eject each and every one of you from this isle, cursed to live your days in failure!
As she finished her voice reached a crescendo, the priestess worked into a fury the likes of which none had seen since the days of Edonil's end. But, as the final word echoed against the Temple's walls her tone lowered again. She did not look feverish like a woman gripped by rage, her eyes merely blazed with anger as she berated them. But. Zrae let the word linger for a moment, You. Each and every one of you will have your chance for redemption in Her eyes. For it is not my wrath you should fear, but Hers. It is by Her Will that I stand here, the beacon of Her Power in this isle, and by Her Word I will uphold her every tenant be it by my voice, my whip, or my blade. I am Her Sword and Her Whip. as she spoke those words those crimson orbs once more raked over them as if to dig into their very souls, It seems that without my presence nothing can get done. That shall change, and quickly. You each will have your part in redeeming this failure. And I know that you will perform admirably. For if you do not, I will not hesitate to sacrifice every single person in this Temple that fails Her.
With those words left lingering in their ears she turned, cloak billowing behind her tall, armored form on her way to the door. As she crossed the distance she spoke again, The Temple will not be locked again against my orders. You are all to return to your duties immediately. This is your first Test. Lolth tlu malla! Zrae then opened the stone doorway and exited, leaving no room for comment on her heels. Back into the cool air she inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as she faced the public altar. Stepping towards it the priestess removed her gauntlets before grasping her sword's hilt and scabbard. As the sword was pulled out a mere few inches the left hand wrapped around the scabbard and blade. Then, a swift and precise tug with her right hand caused the ever sharp longsword to slice her palm. Zrae sheathed it properly and raised her hand over the altar's cold stone, squeezing it so that a few drops of blood fell upon it.
Most feared and loved goddess over all, I give you my blood as I always have. Though failure has crept into Your Domain in my absence, it is my solemn vow that those failures shall be corrected. By action or by blood. The hand opened, some more blood dripping from it before she planted the hand on the altar's tap while she knelt. I am Your Sword and Your Whip, this I have never forgotten. Nec'perya will rise once more if I must beat the life out of it. Where others have, I will not fail You, oh glorious Dread Valsharess. The mistakes of Ultrinnan and Edonil shall not be repeated here, and though those priestess that forged this city with me have fallen aside I remain. As I always shall. Your Will is my purpose, Your Wrath is my power, my service to You is my life! the last phrase was hissed, eyes blazing with intensity again, O glorious Dread Valsharess, hear the call of Your faithful servant. Turn thy gaze back to this city and see that the faithful still remain. Lolth Tlu Malla! Zrae half-shouted the final portion of her prayer and stood, inhaling as she came to her full height and swelled with pride. Blood from her hand smeared across the altar as her hand slid off, akin to the blood sacrifice every citizen had made on that very altar so many months before.
As the Ul'ath'tallar strode off on her next business she murmured a soft prayer, casting a spell to seal up the cut on her hand. It would not do to spill blood upon Loth's Children, the spiders, after all. For that was her next destination in the city, to ensure that the spiders had come to no harm. It was a fruitful journey, for she found that all were accounted for, and even that the spidersilk storage and weaving building were unharmed as well. Once satisfied with their well-being she moved onward to investigate the city itself and just as importantly the stock of resources. Though dwindled, they would last... for now. Everything was caught into Zrae's mind, ensnared like in a cunning web. For now, she left the citizens to their homes. Though it irked her to see drow cower, she at least understood that the average commoner had little experience in battle. And she was secretly thankful they had the foresight to keep themselves safe, for what is a city without the common folk to busy it?
// All info present was given by DM Sammyface
|Author:||Lutra [ Thu, Sep 08 2016, 14:14 PM ]|
|Post subject:||Re: [IC] From the ashes, the Empire shall rise|
After the proclamation of the Priestess the temple doors are left open, however, the city became closed off more than every before. The guards around the outer islands and the sea gates are doubled and the sea gates are properly secured. At one point they are worried about the former inhabitants of the city and thus they are scanning the water.
Despite the fact that the city did not suffer significant material damage, the guardians visibly show anger due to the humiliating fight they had with lesser creatures. As a result, their reaction to outsiders are more hostile than ever before and anyone who is not drow or slave appears to be turned away.
After hearing about the attack the flagship of Nec'perya, The Spider Bearer also returns to the waters of Nec'perya, with the famous Captain Xy'tul. The captain and the crew of the massive, heavily enchanted vessel are joining the defensive measures while checking how did the enemy pass through during the previous attack.
|Author:||Naivatkal [ Thu, Sep 08 2016, 20:48 PM ]|
|Post subject:||Re: [IC] From the ashes, the Empire shall rise|
In the days following her return the Ul'ath'tallar addresses the common folk of the isle. She does so at the mid point of the cycle, standing in the streets as she does so. The voice of the Ul'ath'tallar is unmistakable and it rings out, echoing through the streets. She does so to ensure that, while some may be milling about the city itself, those indoors can hear what she might say.
Citizens of Nec'perya, hear me! The Voice of Lolth calls to your ears! When I returned to the isle barely one cycle after the attack I found something which would shock any drow. I found ruin and fear!
There is a short bark of laughter.
Fear! Fear in the eyes and actions of far too many on this isle. Fear for something other than the Dread Valsharess! I need not tell you how this displeases me! How it displeases Lolth!
For a moment her voice quiets, the name of the Spider Queen fading. Zrae, armored as ever but with her helm removed so that her long hair flows down the back of her exquisite cloak, strode slowly down the street while her crimson eyes raked over the buildings around.
Though it makes my blood run cold I understand your fear. You are not warriors. Your guardians failed you. What else would you do but keep yourselves safe? Yes, I understand and I remember. I remember a time before when we faced a far greater threat. One that threatened to undo everything that we hold dear, that could have very well consumed all of our lives. Yes, I speak of Edonil. When the Ust'ilharess and her puppet failed you, I was there. When the drums of war beat on our doorstep, I was there. When the very armies of orc and demon charged into our home, I was there. I. Was. There.
There was an undeniable hiss to her uplifted voice as she finished those three words.
Just as the Valsharess delivered me unto that falling city to deliver you all from ruin, so am I here now. I will not allow the mistakes of the past to resurface. No, together we will push this isle into a new era. Those that failed are dead, their mistakes wiped from existence. What remains of our might still beats with life and proper fear. Fear of Her! Of the Valsharess! Of our most glorious Queen of Spiders! OF LOLTH!
The final two words are shouted with fervor, arms thrusting upwards briefly before coming back down to push her cloak back. The priestess was on another street now, having rounded the main housing area.
When we came to this isle, this isle which Lolth Herself guided us to through divine vision, I made a pact to each an every one of you. But more importantly to the Dread Queen. Each of us spilled blood upon the altar outside the Temple. My blood is as bound to that oath as all of yours is. My blood is renewed every single cycle upon that altar. For there is nothing in this life, be it person or creature or threat, that I fear more than Lolth. She is everything and I have given my life to Her. And so shall I protect this jewel in Her Crown until my dying breath or She sees otherwise sees fit.
For a few moments she is silent, allowing what she said to sink in before continuing.
Citizens of the Spider Queen's city, know this. I will not fail Her, and in doing so I will not fail you. Each and every one of us has a part to play in Her Web. It is ever changing for She is the grandest Weaver of Webs, so we must be ever mindful of our place in Her Design. Know this, that Lolth never helps one that does not seek to further themselves under Her ever watchful Gaze. Be prepared. Be ever vigilant. I open this call now, to all that are of able body and mind, know that your path to glory in Her Eyes may lie with the Vanguard. Heed the call to arms should you see yourself fit to do so.
And then, with her minor bardic abilities she allows her voice to ring out far louder than before. Her arms upraised again as she cries out, her zealous voice raised. On her face is a look of utter delight, clearly worked up herself in the wakes of her impassioned address.
LOLTH TLU MALLA!
And with that she Ul'ath'tallar turns on her heels, summoning a spell of True Seeing to refresh the one which she always kept alive. The spidersilk cloak trails behind, swishing in the breeze of her passage as her long hair flows behind her back. To the Temple she heads, making no secret of her pause at the public altar where she slits her palm open and smears some blood over the cold stone before heading inside.
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