Dark Flower III, Ch. 16: Matron's Gambit Accepted

[Mikayla]

Dark Flower Book III,

Chapter 16 Matron’s Gambit Accepted


Author’s note: This chapter was previously posted as Chapter 15, but Vendrin correctly pointed out that I had the sequence of certain events backwards, so I have re-written the relevant parts and added a new Chapter 15, which makes this Chapter 16. Thanks for everyone’s patience. Enjoy...

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An hour after the dragon’s body had been captured, Sheyreiza was striding through the marble halls of Qu’ellar Auvryndar. Chaos reigned in the normally sedate, almost tomblike chambers of the house. Groups of warriors in shimmering black mail ran through the dim passages, breaking their formations for scurrying clusters of robed mages who in turn gave way to priestesses clad in mithral and silk. Captains yelled at sergeants who in turn yelled at their troops. In the armory, the quartermaster and his assistants passed out armloads of poisoned quarrels. In the barracks, the few sleeping or off-duty warriors of the house were ordered to make ready. Qu’ellar Auvryndar was going to war. Even with the house in a chaotic frenzy, Sheyreiza’s mere presence cleared the way; warriors, wizards, lesser priestesses and servants all scuttled to the sides of the hall as the Yathallar and her murder-team passed by. Those who moved aside too slowly were pushed out of the way or simply trampled; after two trips into the battle above, tangling with Shurtallistryl, stealing the dragon’s body and defeating a Glabrezu, Sheyreiza was in no mood to waste any time on servants and commoners. Wisps of acrid smoke from the splash of Shurtallistryl’s deadly acid breath and the demon’s poisonous blood streamed off of the high priestess’s enchanted armor. Normal metal would have been dissolved, but Sheyreiza’s mithral plate was so strong that neither dragon’s breath nor demon’s ichor could even pit it.

In the throne room Matron Shyntlara was giving orders to Sheyreiza’s older half-sister, Ghal’tera. Ghal’tera was the weapons-mistress of the house, a royal female and the general of Auvryndar’s forces. She was also a seasoned veteran of house intrigue and open battle and she had survived both long enough to earn Sheyreiza’s deep respect. As Sheyreiza and her murder-team entered the throne-room the Matron turned her attention from Ghal’tera to Sheyreiza. “You have returned at last daughter. I was beginning to think you’d been slain. What do you have to report?”

“Greetings honored matron.” Sheyreiza said breathlessly as she bowed before Shyntlara. “We’ve recovered the body of the wyrm. As the wizards were casting their ritual, the Melarn counter attacked with demons. I had to face a Glabrezu in single combat.” Sheyreiza paused for just the slightest moment to emphasize that accomplishment, and then she continued. “Nevertheless, the Melarn are still attacking the Nasadra, as you know. And I suspect they are summoning many, many more demons.”

“Very good,” Shyntlara said, “you’ve done well Sheyreiza.” Sheyreiza struggled to restrain a smile. Such praise and acknowledgement from the Matron was rare; success was not generally rewarded in Qu’ellar Auvryndar, it was simply expected. “That leaves an opportunity open before us.” The Matron continued. “We will go forward with our plan to strike at the Melarn castle. Ghal’tera will lead the initial assault to breach their outer defenses. I will personally lead the assault on the Melarn citadel when we reach it. Yathtallar Sheyreiza, you and your murder team will accompany me.”

“As you wish, honored Matron,” Sheyreiza replied with a bow. Her heart began racing, and she imagined the feel of Lolth’s Blessing in her hands as the head of the wicked morningstar crushed the life out of a heretic. The mere thought of it heated her sex. She longed to bathe in their blood and revel in their destruction but Melarn was a powerful and ancient house of drow nobles. Even with the bulk of the Melarn army engaged against the Nasadra, the Melarn citadel was not likely to fall easily. It would be protected by great magic, demons, monsters, and in all likelihood, the core of the Melarn clergy. Though Sheyreiza believed that Auvryndar would prevail, she wondered what the cost would be; a victory that left Auvryndar too weak for another fight would be no victory at all, but just a prelude to eventual defeat at the hands of another opportunistic house. There was no point in dwelling on such matters, however, as Matron Shyntlara had set their course. The best thing Sheyreiza could do now was ensure that Auvryndar’s victory was as fast and efficient as possible.

“One other thing,” Shyntlara added. “How is Celuldor?”

“When I visited him before the battle, he was still mad.” Sheyreiza replied. “But I believe his madness is self-induced. I believe he caused himself to go mad to hide what he learned on his trip from Wendonai. He has spoken though. He talked about avatars of the gods, about seeds and about the burning eyes that see all. I’m not sure, but I believe the sword I took off of the body of my cousin Trazk, the soul-eater, maybe the burning-eye Celuldor is raving about. The closer the sword gets to him, the madder he gets.”

The Matron’s brow furrowed. “Indeed. Leave the sword here with me. Then go prepare your murder-team for the forthcoming assault. You don’t have very long.”

“As you wish, honored Matron.” Sheyreiza replied again.

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It was not long before the Auvryndar were in place and Ghal’tera unleashed the first wave of their undead upon the Melarn castle. Numerous spell defenses activated, sending bolts of lighting and balls of fire into the ranks of zombies and skeletons. Black tentacles reached up from the strandways or out from the walls, wrapping around dead flesh and exposed bone, ripping the hapless undead into pieces. In a single minute, Ghal’tera’s first wave was utterly decimated. From behind a hastily erected siege line, Auvryndar wizards went to work dispelling and neutralizing the defenses that the first wave had located for them. Then Ghal’tera unleashed a second wave; a few spell defenses remained but the majority of the second wave reached the Melarn walls where the expert swordsmen of the Melarn made short work of the unskilled undead. Ghal’tera was not discouraged, however and she sent in another wave, and then another and another. Though the Melarn defenders were far more skilled than their undead assaulters, the Melarn were horribly outnumbered. As the assault progressed, the living soldiers of the Melarn began to tire and morale began to fall. In contrast, the Auvryndar undead knew neither fatigue nor fear. Also, with each wave, Ghal’tera included more and more of Auvryndar’s living warriors so that each wave was stronger than the last, while the Melarn defenders grew progressively weaker.

Sheyreiza watched the battle unfold from behind a protective mantlet along one of the strandways near the Melarn castle. The mantlet was part of the siege line erected around the Melarn castle to prevent anyone from escaping the stronghold or relieving it. The alley behind the mantlet was also the staging ground for Matron Shyntlara’s citadel assault team. Dozens of Auvryndar’s elite warriors were here, along with some of Shyntlara’s own vampiric bodyguard and Sheyreiza’s murder-team. Though Sheyreiza was no stranger to death and battle, watching Ghal’tera’s assault made her uneasy; Sheyreiza did not like using undead even though that had become standard Auvryndar practice since Matron Shyntlara had become a vampire. Sheyreiza much preferred using demons. While using undead was distasteful, Sheyreiza had to admit it was efficient and effective; Ghal’tera’s expert use of the undead allowed the Auvryndar to overwhelm the Melarn with minimal casualties to Auvryndar’s living warriors, wizards and priestesses. And Sheyreiza could not deny a twinge of pleasure at seeing all the duergar zombies in the Auvryndar ranks; zombies who had once been the duergar of Clan Deepgloom until they had been slaughtered by Sheyreiza and her murder-team.

It did not take long for Ghal’tera’s strategy to work. Sheyreiza watched as a wave of Auvryndar warriors and undead scaled the outer wall and overwhelmed its beleaguered defenders. In minutes the main gate was breached and a thick knot of warriors, wizards and priestesses led by Ghal’tera herself entered the Melarn fortress. Moments later came the signal; the way was clear for the citadel assault to begin. Led by Matron Shyntlara, the assault team snaked through the siege-line barricades and made its way across the corpse strewn no-man’s to the Melarn stronghold. At the gate Matron Shyntlara sent in her elite troops along with the wizards. The warriors quickly cleared the approach to the citadel and the wizards set about creating an entry into the fortified tower.

Wary of the citadel’s arrow slits and spell defenses, Sheyreiza took cover against the calcified webbing of the Melarn outer wall while she waited for the wizards to open the main citadel portal. Her murder-team gathered there with her. The stench of burning flesh was in the air. Thick black smoke from dozens of burning bodies and structures left a gritty taste in her mouth that she repeatedly tried to spit out in vain. Here and there along the walls the living wounded screamed in agony. If the wounded were lucky, they would find a quick death on the sharp blades of Auvryndar’s skilled soldiers. If they were not so lucky, they would slowly be torn apart by the raking claws of Auvryndar’s shambling zombies and skeletons. Either way, they would soon be raised to replace the undead that had been destroyed.

Matron Shyntlara and two of her bodyguard appeared before Sheyreiza amidst the carnage. “Yathtallar Sheyreiza, the citadel portal is breached. Take your murder-team and begin the final assault. I will follow you.”

Sheyreiza nodded, and signed to the rest of her team. We assault in one minute, prepare yourselves. Quickly Sheyreiza cast half a dozen of the prayer-spells she had left from before Lolth went silent. Her spells bolstered her strength and endurance and raised defenses against both sword and magic. When she was done, she signed to the rest of the team; Follow me. Blades and Bolts, remember your roles. Scouts, you will function as Bolts, but I want traps found and cleared. Everyone stay alert and don’t get separated. She unlimbered her morningstar, Lolth’s Blessing, peaked around the wall then nodded to her murder-team. Alright, here we go. She pushed off the wall, rounded the corner and jogged towards the entry. Up ahead, behind a pile of rubble, Ghal’tera was giving orders to her captains. She saw Sheyreiza and her team coming and gave a nod. Sheyreiza returned the nod and continued past. At the citadel’s arched entryway she paused and looked back at her team. No mercy for the heretics. Then she slipped into the dark interior of the Melarn citadel.

It was quiet inside. Sheyreiza’s footsteps echoed on the marble floors of the entry-chamber. Her team followed her in and spread out in a fighting wedge. Yathrin Faerylene was close to Sheyreiza, bow in hand. There was no sign of the enemy. Faerylene caught Sheyreiza’s eye and signed. Ambush? Sheyreiza nodded. Sheyreiza took a deep breath and walked straight into the next chamber, deliberately making as much noise as she could. Melarn warriors slipped out of the darkness and attacked from all sides. Sheyreiza’s murder-team leaped into action. Swords fell and blood flowed. The battle devolved into numerous personal duels, with drow fighting drow, some rolling on the blood-slicked floors daggers in hand, while others danced with sword and shield around them. The Melarn were experienced, desperate and skilled, but Sheyreiza’s murder-team was even more experienced and they were fresh. Matron Shyntlara entered the chamber behind Sheyreiza's team and joined the fray; the beautiful but vicious vampire made short work of all the Melarn she could reach. More Melarn defenders streamed into the fight from the side passages and chambers as the murder-team pressed the assault, but the Auvryndar could not be stopped. Led by their bloody, unliving Matron, the Auvryndar gained momentum until they became a merciless juggernaut of death, rolling over the last of Melarn’s defenders with murderous glee. They did not pause until they reached the throne room where Matron Melarn awaited them.

The Melarn Matron, Drisinil, held a sword in each hand and stared at them defiantly. “You cannot defeat us.” She announced simply.

“We already have, you heretic whore.” Shyntlara replied as she advanced on Drisinil, side stepping to the right. Sheyreiza advanced and broke left, flanking the Melarn Matron. As one, the two Auvryndar priestesses attacked. Drisinil defended expertly, parrying blows from both and the three began dancing around the Melarn throne-room. Of the two Auvryndar, Shyntlara was clearly the greater threat; she was a more experienced fighter than Sheyreiza and her vampiric blood gave her unmatched strength. Drisinil was not Shyntlara’s equal physically, but Drisinil still had a full repertoire of prayer-spells and had used them to prepare for this fight. Blow after blow they traded, Drisinil fighting expertly with her two long-blades, while Sheyreiza and Shyntlara circled her. As space and timing permitted, other Auvryndar joined in the fight as well, careful not to stray into the path of Shyntlara or Sheyreiza. In minutes, Drisinil was bleeding from half a dozen wounds and her prayer-spells were nearly spent. The Melarn Matron retreated to the top of the dais and used the throne itself to guard one flank. Shyntlara pressed her attack and Drisinil was forced to use both blades to repel it leaving one flank open. In that moment Sheyreiza saw her chance; she rushed in and brought Lolth’s Blessing down squarely on the back of Drisinil’s head, killing her instantly.

“Malla tlu Lolth.” Matron Shyntlara shouted. Praise be to Lolth. Indeed, thought Sheyreiza, praise be to Lolth indeed. She looked down at the body of Drisinil Melarn and noticed the sword in her left hand was identical to the one Trazk had carried. Sheyreiza had suspected a link between the two, but this proved it. She bent down and retrieved the bloody weapon while Shyntlara was giving orders to the gathering Auvryndar.

Darkness filled the back of the throne room. Shyntlara fell silent and Sheyreiza looked wide-eyed into the gloom. An enormous, winged figure strode out of the black. It was Wendonai, revealed in his horrid, true form as a Balor-lord. The demon stood twice as tall as the tallest drow, and was easily four times as broad. He was fanged, red-skinned and wreathed in fire. Instinctively, Sheyreiza backed away. She brought her shield up and readied her morningstar but fighting was not foremost in her mind; fleeing was. Shyntlara, however, stood her ground. “You’ve lost demon.”

The beast kept coming. “Fool.” It uttered. He raised a meaty fist, pointed at Shyntlara and destroyed her with a single ruby-red ray.

Sheyreiza could not believe what she was seeing, what she had seen. Shyntlara was gone. For a moment Sheyreiza was frozen with fear; she did not flee or fight, but merely stood in place watching the demon lord advance. She could not even draw breath. Wendonai came to stand over the body of Drisinil. Looking down at the bloody body of the matron, he shook his head, picked up the corpse with one hand, and then simply disappeared.

A moment later Sheyreiza began breathing again. She looked around the throne room at the others and saw a cloud of vapor moving of its own accord out the throne-room door. Shyntlara lived! The corporeal form of the vampire matron had been destroyed, but the vampiress lived just the same. She would return to Qu’ellar Auvryndar, to her own crypt, and eventually reform. All was not lost. Sheyreiza fell to her knees, exhausted from exertion and fear. She gasped for breath. Faerylene approached but Sheyreiza held her off with a raised hand. “I’m alright.” She muttered. “Have Ghal’tera secure the rest of the stronghold. Search for hidden caches, traps and anything else we can find.”

Before Faerylene could answer there was a dull flash of light and the archmage Celuldor appeared inside the throne-room. “Where is it?” He snapped quickly. “Where is the blade?”

Sheyreiza held up the sword she had taken from the body of Drisinil. “This blade?” She asked.

“Yes, that blade. Give it to me!” Celuldor rushed to grab the weapon from her hands. Sheyreiza let him have the sword without protest. She was too tired to correct the archmage’s lack of respect and at the moment, she had no desire to get in the way of a mad-wizard. Celuldor retreated to a far corner of the throne room, set the blade down on the stone floor, and waved off the remaining Auvryndar. He raised his hands and began chanting a spell which he unleashed upon the blade, sundering it completely. As the blade broke, it exploded in a flash of brilliant red light. Sheyreiza was struck with a wave of overwhelming lust the likes of which she had never felt before. An orgasm of unprecedented strength rolled through her body and she collapsed completely. For a moment, she found herself in a state of complete, euphoria. Sheyreiza’s mind was flooded with the presence of the Goddess, in Her role as the Mother of Lusts. Her prayers for spells were suddenly and completely answered. Once again, the power of Lolth flowed through her. And then the feeling faded, slipping away into the dark like a shadow into night. Sheyreiza laughed with ecstasy and pushed herself up off the floor. Looking around she saw Faerylene rising from the floor as well, and she too was flush with a recent orgasm. All around them the other priestesses and high-priestesses were recovering from similar experiences. Whatever had happened to Sheyreiza had happened to all of them.

“That felt amazing.” Faerylene giggled girlishly. “I could feel the Goddess in me. Does this mean Lolth has returned?”

Sheyreiza closed her eyes and reached out for the goddess. She felt only the faintest presence. “I don’t think so. I think . . . it feels like part of her has returned, but only a very faint part.”

“She put all my prayer-spells back into my memory.” Faerylene added.

“As she did for me.” Sheyreiza acknowledged, standing slowly. She looked to Celuldor for an answer but the mage had collapsed. He was alive, but unconscious. Sheyreiza ordered her murder-team to carry the incapacitated mage with them and then she made her way out of the Melarn citadel.

Outside, she announced to the troops that the citadel had fallen and that Matron Drisinil Melarn had been slain. The living troops responded with vengeful glee. Predictably, the undead were somewhat less enthusiastic. Sheyreiza did not mention the appearance of the demon-lord or the destruction of Matron Shyntlara. When Ghal’tera asked where the Matron was, Sheyreiza pulled her aside and told her what happened. They left a company of warriors and wizards behind to search the ruins and loot whatever could be taken, and then led the bulk of the Auvryndar army back to the Auvryndar fortress. Sheyreiza had no desire for Auvryndar to suffer the same fate Melarn had this cycle. The elation of victory was quickly tempered by ill-news from the scouts; Qu’ellar Nasadra, the leading house of the city and Auvryndar’s most powerful ally, had fallen to Melarn’s assault, and the Melarn army was now occupying Castle Nasadra. The Melarn victory had not come easily or cheaply; their most powerful ally, the great wyrm Shurtallistryl, had died at the hands of the Nasadra archmage and the worm’s body now resided in the courtyard of Qu’ellar Auvryndar. Also, many more Melarn had died in the assault on Nasadra than Auvryndar had lost during its assault.

The first battle of the civil war was over. In the Auvryndar throne room Sheyreiza reviewed it in the context of the great game, Savva. Here, the enemy had moved first and aggressively attacked. In so doing, they left a valuable piece, the Melarn castle, exposed. In Savva, this was the so called “Matron’s Gambit.” If one defended against the attack, then one “declined” the gambit; if one took the offered sacrifice, it was a “Matron’s Gambit Accepted” and that was the way Matron Shyntlara played it. Auvryndar took the offered piece, but the Melarn had taken Nasadra. In Savva, this would be a nominally equal castle-for-castle exchange. In the course of the exchange the Melarn had also lost their most powerful ally, Shurtallistryl, but Auvryndar had lost their most powerful ally, Qu’ellar Nasadra. Again, it was a nominally equal exchange. But far more Melarn had died than Auvryndar in the respective assaults. So, in Savva terms, the Melarn were down on pawns. On the other hand, the move of the Melarn forces to a higher layer than Auvryndar was a tactical advantage. In sum, Auvryndar was probably ahead in material, but Melarn’s attack was rapidly developing while Auvryndar was still more or less in its starting position. Strategically, the battle was, at best, a draw. What worried Sheyreiza was that the Melarn were clearly the ones with the initiative and in a hyper-aggressive game of Savva, initiative, position and development mattered more than material; grand master Savva players had won matches despite being down many significant pieces. One well placed active piece was worth more than two inactive, poorly placed pieces of similar station. The favor of Lolth could swing the initiative to the Auvryndar, but Lolth was still silent despite the release of her lustful aspect; the Auvryndar would have to seize the initiative on their own. And that would be difficult with Matron Shyntlara still reforming in her crypt. Until the Matron had recovered from her corporeal destruction, Sheyreiza’s older sister, Yathtallar Shalen, was in command. Shalen was a faithful, vicious and merciless high-priestess, but she was no war-leader, not like Sheyreiza and certainly not like Shyntlara. Moving against Shalen was out of the question, at least for the time being; any infighting would cost them both time and material and they could not afford to fall behind on either. They would simply have to wait for Shyntlara to recover. Of course, Sheyreiza knew that Shalen’s shortcomings were not lost on Ghal’tera, who was a fine war-leader. Knowing that, Sheyreiza guessed that so long as her orders did not directly contradict Shalen’s, Ghal’tera would most likely follow them. So, privately, Sheyreiza had Ghal’tera dispatch scouts to the upper-layers to watch the Melarn, and sent out patrols in strength to guard the descending strands; having a higher position in the city’s webs was a positional advantage of course, but that advantage could be turned into a disadvantage if Sheyreiza could keep them bottle up at the top – most of the city lay below Auvryndar, and that meant most of the city’s food, water, smithies, magic and people lay below Auvryndar. If they could cut the Melarn off from the rest of the city, the Auvryndar could effectively lay siege to the Melarn in Castle Nasadra. This would halt the hyper-aggressive attack of the Melarn in its tracks and turn the game into a long war of attrition – and with Auvryndar having more troops and greater access to supplies, that was a game they could win.

Sheyreiza smiled - no plan ever survived contact with the enemy of course, but at least she was developing a plan rather than simply reacting to the plans of the Melarn. And that meant the initiative might be shifting.

[Vendrin]

Great as usual. You actually retrieved the corpse of the dragon to be risen before the assault, but no worries.

[Mikayla]

Arggh - I was torn - I have all these notes but I did not put dates on them and I could not remember which came first - I will amend the story accordingly. I should have gone with my instinct - I actually wrote about the fight to recover the dragon's body first, then this piece, but I second guessed my own memory as to the sequence of events. Grrrr. No worries though, I'll correct it.

[Zakharra]

Oh Goddess. I remember that. It was great! And that dragon smelled up the courtyard for cycles until it was raised. All that rotting dragon flesh. You caught Faerylene nearly perfectly in this one Mik. We got alot of loot from the Melarn Castle.

[Mikayla]

OK, this story has been updated. I've re-written the opening and changed it from Chapter 15 to Chapter 16 to allow for a new Chapter 15 to be inserted, reflecting the correct sequence of events - thanks to Vendrin for remembering exactly how things went down. Ciao!

[Nyarlathotep]

Just catching up and my reading and am glad to see that Shey's story is still going on, it always a good read, she has become quite the scary priestess these days.