"I don't care, which's easier?"
"Whye not now?-" Neit finished her glass briskly, but then just started staring at it as someone had stolen a child's favorate toy. "-Whye not now, thate we 'r here, have one more rounde maybe?..." She gave a sharp, accusing look towards one of her red robed charges, which sent them scurring off to attain a renewed bottle of anti-thought juice as quickly as their legs could carry them.
"We nee'da sacrifice anyhowe, love. S'not gete head of'ar'selves. You wanna slum ite through Kuttra Taur again and try to finde some drow bitch lookin' for wares, or shoulde we try those inbred drow filthe pits by D'issan an' Chathser?"
"Nice ambition, there, hun..." Neit replied sarcastically, then took a habitually deep swig of her drink. "D'issan an' Chathser are harder, bute there full ofe those puritian Ku'nal shitheads. The questione is, who can 'ya afford ta piss off?"
"..." She took a moment to shrug, glanced at Ryyna, then back down into the table discouragedly. "...Whate am I sayin', of course you wante the impatient optione."
"Let's go zen. Crappy parts ofe this city should 'ave plenty ofe easy targets. Up close to za slums ine particulare."
It wasn't too hard. Three hours later, and 750 gold less (guards needed bribing, and commoners needed cajoling), Neitar had bound, gagged, and otherwise procured for herself a shebali woman who, despite her low birth, would be an appropriate and suitable offering to the Goddess.
Neitar shrugged. Even if the grimlocks and Ryyna's orcs had done all the work, she didn't really like doing things so gracelessly. It always just seemed more convinent and clever when you could get a creature to do what you want by their own free will. But, never the less, this was drow society, at the end of the day...
By the time they were half way to the temple, the woman had taken to getting herself stone drunk in her annoyance. At least it would help when it came time to finally take this 'test'...
"Looke... If'am gonna be inside a longo time I could-be like dead-or-whatevur... or you coul'be, too.." She slurred heavily, then grabbed one of her shorter servants harshly by the shoulder and forced it to face Ryyna and Alsiif. "I'll speake through Huzhke, here, okays?... She gote some psion shite toos, okay?... Ife she dunwanna do ite, well... slap her..."
Underneath the veil, this 'short thing' was really a porcelin-skinned four-armed chitine, shorter than any of the drow by a full fifth, but amusingly quite overfed and girthy compared to others of her kind. With wide, dark eyes, enormous eyebrows, several missing teeth, and rounded pinkish cheeks, this 'Huzhke' seemed to be every bit Neit's pity pet aswell as punching bag.
Yanking on a scraggily black pig tail, Neit attached a large broach with the Inthuul family crest on it to the thing's hair, then slapped it's cheeks a bit more affectionately/cruely. "Tell 'em hi, you flabby abominatione..."
"Allo." It squeeked, then sighed softly as Neitar finally lost interest again and went back to drinking. There didn't seem to be much going on in that tiny head, so the next brainwave was pretty obvious; She took a gander at their drow prisoner, and figured it could be worse...
Last edited by Regantor; 04-29-2012 at 02:21 AM.
The shrine was a massive statue of Lolth, depicting her as a topless, perfectly beautiful, Drow woman with her arms outstretched. It was isolated on some hills and very small mountains, but stood proud and clear atop the highest peak. The trip was dangerous and long, but the trio managed. Neitar went ahead, alone with her offering, while the others and their slaves waited at the base of the worn path that led to the shrine proper.
There were spiders everywhere, many tiny, some far bigger than Neitar. And Neitar knew it was just as well, for they played several important roles in the long ritual that was needed to call forth the Goddess.
The ritual was performed at the foot of the great statue and was a four hour long ordeal of rape, torture, and ultimately murder. Throughout the entire event Neitar's only assurance that she hadn't made a mistake yet was the simple fact that he spiders had not devoured her, or that Lolth had not otherwise punished her for some error in the rite.
The others could not see, but they could hear the screams of the offering and sometimes some of Neit's own cries or moans, although hers were from pleasure and not pain. Many religious rituals among the ugly races of the world had a component of explicit or implicit eroticism to them, but for the Drow sex - and especially rape - were part and parcel of religious practice.
The victim suffered, was humiliated, was tortured, and then she died.
And then the rite was over, and the Goddess appeared.
Had Neitar not already been on her knees as part of the ritual, the great blast of noise that emanated from nowhere and everywhere would have certainly dropped her to them. Thousands of spiders, some tinier than a fingernail, others the size of a hand, and many more in-between, swarmed from everywhere, converging on the corpse. Many of them coursed over Neitar in the process, covering her entire body in a moving sheet of legs.
When they had all converged on the corpse, there was nothing left of it within seconds. Then the seething mass of fangs and legs began to rise, the spiders piling on top of eachother and creating a large pillar of crawling, skittering, venomous death. The swarming mass began to blend and merge into itself, forming into the very body of the Goddess.
Her incarnation was as the statue depicted; an impossibly beautiful Drow woman, her long white hair worn loose and free, and her flawless body clad only in a long skirt of the finest spider silks. She was - literally - painfully beautiful to behold, but despite the agony Neitar knew to keep her in sight, for to look away from the Goddess would mean a fate far, far, far worse than death.
"Lolth, Queen of the Demonweb Pits, Queen of Spiders, the Tyrant Poisoner, Mother of the Drow, the Huntress and the Webspinner, hears your noisome call and deigns fit to answer, neitar inthuul." The Goddess spoke, her voice the most beautiful music, paining Neitar's ears as her visage pained her eyes.
"Mighty Lolth finds your pathetic offering acceptable in the barest sense of the word, but Lolth knows that neitar inthuul is a weak, pathetic, hideous creature and expects little from it. Nevertheless, Lolth anticipates disappointment.
Why have you called upon mighty Lolth, Queen of Spiders, your goddess and mistress? What undue arrogance compels such an ugly and insignificant little spider to call upon the Broodmother?"
Neitar carefully spoke to the goddess, apologizing for her ugliness and the horrible sound of her wretched voice. She went on to how hideous and unworthy though she were, that she desired the undeserved opportunity to be tested, to prove herself worthy in the eyes of mighty Lolth. Despite the tears of blood streaming from her burning eyes and the similar condition of her bleeding ears, Neitar continued to stay prostate before the Goddess, her eyes focused on the beautiful Queen of the Drow.
"Your goddess, the perfect and mighty Lolth, would grant you a test, neitar inthuul. You are to slaughter one of the foolish and disgusting whores who would dare to call herself one of Lolth's priestesses. Do this in a manner pleasing to Lolth, and return to this place, call forth once more the great and powerful Lolth, and Lolth may allow neitar inthuul grant to continue to exist in her present corpulent and festering form, rather than one more befitting so wretched and grotesque a creature.
Now go. Your goddess, the mighty Lolth, has spoken! Fail Lolth and you shall know Lolth's rage and fury! Go and do as Lolth has commanded!"
At that the Goddess's form discorporated in an explosive burst of darkness, showering Neitar in a covering of spiders from head to toe.
She was covered in spiders, she had a headache unlike anything she could have ever imagined, and her everything hurt. She was, however, alive, and not a Drider. That made Neitar luckier than most people who met the Goddess.
When Neitar finally descended the hill, it was slowly, with a permanent wide-eyed glare that spoke of things no mortal would willingly want to see. There wasn't any sense of wanting to crush her oppressors' arrogance, not this time. There wasn't a fuss about getting her hands dirty. No, even the myriad assortments of cuts, bites and slashes on her skin remained unhealed in fear of insulting the dark, savagely alluring creature she had just witnessed... What was going through her head was barely suppressed terror, and little else.
One of the grimlocks tried to hand her a bottle of brandy with an accompanying glass, eager to impress. The haggard drow just walked right past, ignoring him and saying nothing.
It took her several minutes to halt. She was wearily glancing at the distant glowing silhouette of Dissan.
"...She wants... a preiste..." She whispered, with a voice polluted utterly.
Alsiif pointed a claw/finger towards Dissan. "Ahm... you're not thinking of going there are you..?" She put her claws up in Neitar's face. "You can see its kinda obvious they won't like me down there! So we'd have to kill a lot more people than just a priestess if you really want to go." It is worth mentioning this was the first time Alsiif didn't seem narcoleptic at all.
Neitar just glanced across to Alsiif, still wide eyed, still not blinking.
"...You'd prefer to kille somebody... 'uo diserves ite, wouldn' you?... Ha?" Even through it sounded like she was trying to make a joke, her tone completely lacked the normal mandatory whimsy. "Then again... Clawin' our way righte in... an' stabbin' er... wouldn' impress Lolth...... anyhowe..."
It took effort for her to turn away.
The kind of things Neitar had suddenly become inspired with... they were not the sort of things one would even wish on an enemy. Yet, in her mind, nothing less would be good enough for the shadow watching from over her shoulder.
Slowly, without explination, she began to walk back in the direction of Kuttra Taur.
I assume Ryyna has no objections. Either way, Fail vanishes for weeks so he doesn't get to complain.
And so the trio of Drow and their retinue of slaves found themselves once again in the mushroom city of Kuttra Taur, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of one of Garethkullgen's largest cities.
They had themselves a priestess to kill. But who? Lolth ordained or not, they ran the risk of angering the priestesses, or possibly the secular authority. As eccentric as she was, Aryyna did have a reputation for being the most powerful Wizard in all of Drow society - angering her was probably a bad idea.
They'd best pick a target carefully.