One night in Menzoberranzan

[Zakharra]

I had posted this on the old forums site, and had not reposted it. I figured that I should. To let people at least see what I can do. As little as it is.


The slim figure, cloaked in a tattered piwafwi, moved thru the crowded streets of the Barere. Snowy hair kept under the hood. Eyes glowing in the darkness of the street.
Pools of light glowed here and there. Purple, green, lavender and yellow. The last from lit torches hanging in brackets from the sides of doors. Goblins, orcs, hobgoblins, gnolls, svirfneblin, duergar, drow, humans, and a few ogres and half ogres, crowded the street. Each talking to the other in it’s crude language. The sounds mixing into a dull roar.
The cloak brushed aside to reveal a young female. Wrapped in black clothes, they still didn’t hid her features. Snow white hair, bound up off her face, in a ponytail. Silver eyes moved constantly in sharp featured face. Moving from each person, in her way. The slim figure moved lithely along. Slipping along the street to a low door, set into the side of a rundown house.
Inside it was as noisy as it was outside. The room crowded from wall to wall with mostly duergar, svirfneblin and humans. She made her way thru the crowd easily. A hand waved to her as she approached the bar. She returned the wave. The dark skinned hand rising.
“Good to see you still alive, Gordanfal.” The drow language the most common tongue in the tavern. She sat in a chair next to the duergar. “Do you got it?”
The old duergar nodded. His gnarled hand slipped a small cloth-wrapped bundle into her hand. She glanced at it. Flipping the cloth back briefly, then back.
A rare grin split her dark face. “Perfect.” A bag passed back to him. “It is all there. If you sold me a faulty one, I’ll come back for you.”
Gordanfal grinned. Strong yellow teeth flashing in his face. “I know. You come for me.” The drowish words coming fluently from his mouth.

The female rose and quickly left the tavern. Outside, she turned left and headed up the street. Walking quickly. Passing thru the Barere, into Eastmyer, the streets grew less crowded, but she didn’t get any less attentive. She ducked into a dark alley and opened the cloth. A spider shaped amulet sat in the palm of her hand. Made of obsidian, and barely an inch long, it showed exquisite craftsmanship. A black silver chain attached to the topmost legs.
The female, Elvane, slipped the amulet over her head and tucked it under her shirt. The amulet resting against her skin. Tucking the cloth into a pocket, she made her way down the street . Her mind turning to dark thoughts.


She remembered as she walked along. An outcast in a city that was not kind to outcasts. For 35 years she had lived here in Menzoberranzan. Alone, except for a few people, she called friend. Her life was turned to survival. Learning to hate and to survive. She shook her head and focused on the here and now. To be lost in thought, was to be killed.
She looked around, she had walked thru most of Eastmyer. Nearer her new home. She had found it only a few weeks ago. A safe home. Maybe.
A bit later, after buying some food, the female was headed down the street, when she spotted someone up ahead. “Damn.“ she muttered softly. “Demonwebs tangle her. What is a priestess doing here?”
She ducked into a near-by alley. Refuse scattered along the dead end. Slim fingers gripped the wall as she hid in the shadows. Then her finger touched the amulet. Activating the magic within.
Her body vanished into the shadows. A shadow among shadows. Down the street walked a young priestess.


A few hours ago…….….
Sabvyae Toriryn woke. Her blurry eyes slowly focused in the guttering candle beside her bed. The dream haunting her. A sense of foreboding running thru her nerves.
She had been in a ceremony. Celebrating the SpiderQueen. Offering gifts. Gifts of slaves, valuable items, weapons, jewelry, and the consorts of priestesses. The sacrifices were placed on the alter. And after each item was placed, it either vanished with great praises rising from the massed priestess, giving thanks the Lolth. When the gift was refused, a wave of spiders crawled over the offering priestess. Killing her. Or the writhing female turned into a drider. The ultimate expression of failure to the SpiderQueen.
Priestess after priestess went to the alter. When it was her turn, she went to the alter. Singing praises to Lolth. The drow priestess knelt in front of the alter. Her knees in the blood from the previous sacrifices. The high priestess turned to her. The spider bladed dagger dripping blood. “What have you brought to offer to Lolth?”
The young priestess looked at her hands. A small obsidian figure rested in each hand. One was of her patron, her guard. Wodzaer. In her other hand another figurine of someone she couldn’t make out clearly. She looked up at the high priestess. “Which do you choose to give to Our Mother?” Red eyes flicked back down to the figurines and she raised one to the priestess…. Then she had woken up. Knowing that she had to make a choice. What path was she to choose?
She put her bare feet on the carpeted floor and a hand to her forehead. Turning, she looked at the sleeping male beside her. Covered only by the rumpled spidersilk sheets. Slender fingers lightly rested on his cheek, before she stood. Stretching, her lithe body. Arms reaching towards the ceiling.
A rope, hanging beside the bed was pulled. Summoning a maid. She went to the dressing table and sat down. Rummaging thru the various vials and bottles of perfumes, lotions and oils. The door opened and a halfing female entered. Bowing low. Sabvyae had her draw a bath.
The male, Wodzaer, was roused and sent on his way. With word to prepare for an excursion out into the City. She had a slave to purchase for a ceremony.

The present…..
She walked down the street. Arrogant in her power as a priestess of Lolth. Her hand resting on the three headed snake whip, that was a symbol of her status as a priestess of Lolth. Beside her, the guard, Wodzaer, walked silently. Cloaked in his piwafwi and as silent as a shadow. He guarded her back.
Still, her hand gripped the whip. Anger burned in her heart. This was degrading. That she had to walk. Her mother, Matron Toriryn, had not let her use the litter. It was being used by her older sister, Zerafhaine.
So it was in this mood, she stalked down the street, her eyes looking from person to person. Shop to shop. To see if she could find the sacrifice for her goddess.
She had just finished whipping a kobald slave from her path, when a slim figure caught her eye. The cloaked figure ducked into a alleyway. A cold feeling blew across her nerves as she recognized the figure when a flash of light, from the shop across the way opened it’s door. The eyes and that face!
It matched the unknown figurine in her dream! Glancing around, she made her way to the alley. A gesture sent her guard into the alley. Floating above. Like a bat on high.

In the alley, Elvane remained hidden in the shadows. A hand on the dagger resting at her waist. Her eyes narrow slits as she watched the entrance of the alley. Her heart fell, when a dark figure stepped forward into the alley. Holding a writhing snake-headed whip.
“Step forth, so I may see you.” The harsh command rang out in the still air. Silence. “Step forth now, or I’ll kill you slowly!” The arm rose. The snakes writhing in anticipation.
Elvane stepped out into the middle of the alley. Throwing her right arm out, the cloak flared up and away from the arm. “What do you want?” Her voice soft. Sensuous. The hood covered her head. Cloaking her features.
Sabvyae stepped closer. “Who are you, girl?”
Rage burned thru her mind. She remembered what priestess of Lolth had done to her. Her mother. The House she had lived in. Sternly, she forced the anger down. Not letting any trace of it show in her face. “A person trying to live, Mistress.” She bowed. Going to one knee. Head down.
“Raise you piwafwi. I want to see your face. You are the one I will sacrifice.” The hissing grew closer, as the whip was lowered to push the hood back.
The hatred flared anew. Burning to a roaring height. She moved back. Leg muscles bunched and straightened as she leapt backwards. Landing balanced on her feet and outstretched hand. A dagger shining in the darkness in her other hand.
Anger warred with surprise, when the girl jumped back. Her hand instinctively rising to protect her face. The hatred won. “Come here now!” The command cracked out. Power filling her voice.
Elvane felt the power. Her muscles trembled as she resisted the urge to rise and kneel at the priestess’s feet. Her fingers tightened on the hilt of the dagger. “No.” She straightened. The cloak falling to cover her left arm. The right raised slightly. Blade ready.
The priestess’s anger grew. No one refused a priestess. Ever! “You will be sacrificed tonight for your impertinence.”
“You are foolish to be coming here without any bodyguards. What happened? Your House to poor to buy soldiers?” The girl replied. Dagger ready.


Above the two. The guard had waited. Using his magic to stay aloft. When the girl had jumped backwards, he dipped lower. Drawing his sword and dagger. Lower he floated.
Dropping to land lightly behind the girl. A moldy bone, nearly gnawed thru, creaked under his weight. Unnoticed by most drow, the sound was heard by Elvane’s sharp ears. ‘Not so foolish after all.’ She thought, turning suddenly. The left hand thrust out as she turned. A long thin blade appeared in her hand.
The sharp tip sliced thru the air. Piercing the male’s piwafwi.
Wodzaer tried to dodge, but the girl had moved faster than he had ever seen. As fast as a striking snake, or a weapons Master of some of the higher Houses. Pain flared as he turned. The tip of the dagger slicing thru his piwafwi like smoke. Slicing thru his skin and the underlying muscle. Blood ran from the wound and dripped down. Soaking his shirt in a matter of moments. Forcing the pain away, he attacked. Blades whirling in the patterns he’d been taught in the Melee M
Patterns of death. Light flashed off the edges as they whirled in complex patterns. A musical clash rang in the alley as they fought. Her daggers against his sword and dagger.
His longer blade thrust at her, forcing her to skip aside. Avoiding the attack and the one that followed. The dagger angling up at her left side. Her dagger parried his. Locking the hilt briefly. Her other one sang along the edge of his sword. He pushed both weapons up. A foot kicked at her. Thudding solidly into her thigh.
Cursing under her breath, she dodged to the side. Feet moving easily in the garbage of the alley. The smells of long dead rats and worse rose to assault her nose.
As they fought, a hate welled in her breast. Rising higher and higher. Hate at the guard, Hate at the priestess. Hate at the city.

Sabvyae’s heart fell when she saw that Wodzaer’s wound. The blood glowing with heat. Her face twisted with anger as she stepped up and lashed out with her whip.
Her target was Elvane, but the snakes twisted in midair and struck Wodzaer instead. She shrieked as the fangs dug into Wodzaer’s shoulders.
The fangs dug into his flesh. Tearing deep and the poison flowed from the buried fangs. Paralyzing him. Slowly he turned to face the priestess. His lover.
Elvane didn’t stop to question her good fortune. As he turned, her left leg snapped out in a high kick. The heel of her boot cracked into his temple. Sending him flying back to crash into the wall. Unconscious.
Breathing hard, she faced the shocked priestess. Hatred burning in her heart.
Sabvyae was in shock. The whipheads had not struck the wench. They had struck her lover instead. She shook her head and focused on the female in front of her. The snaked-headed whip writhing. The heads turning from Elvane to Sabvyae and back.
A sliver of fear raced up Sabvyae’s spine. Had she done something wrong to offend Lolth? Her snakes hadn’t hit who she wanted them to. They had struck her patron. Her patron! That was it. The dream!
She had a choice to make. To sacrifice Wodzaer or the girl stranding in front of her. Indecision roiled in her mind as she wrestled with the decision.
Elvane wanted to attack, but within her mind, she felt a presence. A darkness. Full of promise and power. The sibilant voice whispered to her:
Take the power. Kill her. You want to kill her. To make her suffer. She is unworthy to be a priestess. Kill her…
The voice continued to whisper to her. Promising her power and influence beyond her dreams. Everyone would bow to her. If she was worthy.
Prove yourself worthy and I will grant you my favor, little one.
Her eyes opened wide as she realized that Lolth was speaking to her. To have her favor….was to rise above her present station. The eyes narrowed as she made her decision and lunged for the priestess.

...the present...
Quenthel Baenre was floating on her float disc, with a heavy guard of 15 female warriors. Going on a rare shopping trip to the market, she was edgy. Something was making her nervous. Something was going to happen today. This she knew, but what? It was bothering her.
She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. The dark black robes shifting around her. As she floated along, her eye caught the movement of one of her guards. The female made a gesture, sending several others to an alley.
A sense of power emanated from the alley. She raised a hand and stopped the disk. Gracefully, she stepped off and waited for her guard to appraise her of the situation.
The captain of Quenthel’s guard gestured to her in the silent language of the drow. ‘Three people. Two females, one male. Male unconscious. One female is a priestess’
Quenthel felt a surge of anger. Who dared to attack a priestess? The gall and audacity!! She snatched her whip from her side as she stalked angrily towards the alley. Her fingers moved. ‘Stay. Watch’ The guard captain nodded and had the guards move to cover the alley mouth as the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith moved as silently as a shadow to the ally.
Quenthel stepped into the alley. Her eyes glowing in the heat spectrum. Taking in the scene in a single glance. Her hand tightened on the handle of her snake headed whip. Writhing in anticipation of causing pain.

----20 minutes before…..
Elvane lunged for the young priestess. Her dagger pushed the snake whip aside and plunged to slice across the priestess’s shoulder. Scoring a bloody line.
Sabvyae pulled back the whip and lashed out at the girl. As her hand flashed down. The girl’s dagger carved a bloody gash in her shoulder. Pain flared and her teeth bared in a rictus of pain and hate. Her left hand flashed out at the girl’s head.
Elvane dodged the blow easily. Dropping low, she kicked the priestess’s legs out from under her. Sending her crashing to the ground.
Biting back a cry of pain, she rolled to her feet and threw herself at the girl. Only to meet Elvane’s fist. White light flashed behind her eyes. Sending her into unconsciousness.
She looked at the priestess lying in the garbage. She smiled cruelly and reached for her. The snake heads rose hissing at her . Elvane drew her hand back. Contemplating the snakes. She wanted to kill the priestess badly. Taking a deep breath, she bowed to the snakes, put her hands together and whispered a prayer to Lolth. The snakes bobbed and wove in an ever changing pattern, but retreated.

Smiling thinly, the girl reached for the priestess again. Taking ahold of her robes and sung her over her shoulder. She was carried to lie next to her unconscious patron. Swiftly, Elvane tied her up. Removing any weapons and jewelry she found on her.
The male was checked just as thoroughly . The weapons and jewelry tossed into a pile several feet from her. Satisfied, she drew a long narrow black pouch from her piwafwi. Slender fingers opened the pouch. Letting the dim light shine on the small silvery bone needles, held in it. She selected two needles, about two inches long.
Smiling softly. An evil shine in her eyes, she placed the tip of one of the needles on the center of the forehead of the priestess. Firmly, she pushed it into the skin. Hissing softly, it penetrated the skin, bone and entered the brain easily. The pain caused Sabvyane to cry out in pain, before slumping back into unconciousness. The other one was repeated to the male.
The smile remained as she pulled out a sharp dagger. Tested the edge and began to work.

Quenthel’s eyes opened wide as she beheld the scene before her. The male was laid out on his back. His abdomen opened. From the pubic bone to the bottom of the rib cage. The skin and muscles were pinned back. Exposing the organs. Very small white pins bound the blood veins and arteries from spurting blood. The open skin revealed bare ribs and neck. Peeled back expertly.
And she saw that he was still alive. His heart beat visibly. Pumping blood thru his tortured body.
The priestess was in worse shape. She had been dismembered and flayed. Symbols traced in every inch of the black skin. Except for the head. It was untouched. An expression of exquisite pain frozen on her face. A single white bone pin in the center of her forehead.
“What has happened here?” she asked in a calm voice. None of her surprise showing on her face or voice. The snake whip swayed and wove around her neck and face.
Elvane looked up. Noticed the whip and robes of a high priestess, she bowed low to her. “High Priestess. I was taking care of business”
Quenthel blinked and stepped forward. Letting the whip hanging at her side. Ready if needed. “Do you know the penalty for killing a priestess?” Her voice soft and silky.
Behind her back, she gestured with her fingers and the guards behind her in the street readied themselves.
“I know the penalty. I also know that she was to die. For failing our Goddess, Lolth. She had a choice and failed.” To show, she gestured behind her at the dead priestess’s snake whip. Writhing and weaving beside her. “She failed.”
For a moment, the hatred burned in her eyes. Hatred and a deep rage. Then the emotions were shut away.

The girl stood. Straight and proud. A shake of her hands shook the blood from her fingers.
The High priestess smiled inwardly. This girl was definitely ambitious. And proud.
She walked closer to the drow girl. Walking around her, she bent over and looked at the male. Raised an eyebrow. “Where did you learn to do this?” Next she looked at the dead Sabvyane.
Elvane remained silent.
The whip lowered to touch near the other snake whip. Both whips hissing and writhing amongst each other before separating. Quenthel turned suddenly. “Answer me girl! Or you will feel my whip and suffer for you impudence!”
Elvane stepped back at the shout. “I learned it by myself.” Her hands remained still by her side. The priestess’s anger washing over her.
“You killed a priestess of Lolth. Why did you do it? Answer me truthfully girl, or you die slowly and painfully as a sacrifice for our Dark Mother.” The snake whip rose menacingly.

A flash of fear crossed her face. She knew well the instant mood changes of the priestess. And their cruelty and sadistic natures. “I killed her because she followed me and I was told to. By the Spider Queen. She told me!”
Quenthel blinked. She hadn’t expected this. “We’ll see if you tell the truth!” Her hand flashed up to snag the white hair on Elvane’s head. She whispered a spell so she could see for herself.
Pain flared in her head, when her hair was seized and from the spell. Her hands rose to slap or punch the priestess and was seized in an iron grip.
”Don’t move any more unless you want to die” was coldly whispered in her ear.

The pain burned in her mind as images of the fight, before and after. She saw the death of the young priestess again. The flaying of the male and the priestess. The arrival of the high priestess.
Quenthel released the girl. Letting her fall to her knees, gasping in pain. Her fingers wound in her hair.
“She was told to kill her. She passed her Test.” Turning to the female guards, she raised her arms high. “All praise Lolth. The Spider Queen. Her Will has been Done!”
The guards knelt and raised their weapons high. Echoing the high priestess. Quenthel lowered her arms and looked at the girl kneeling on the ground. Reached down and gripped her chin in her strong fingers and lifted her to her feet. “What do you want in life girl?”
Red eyes searched the girl’s eyes. Searching her soul.
“I want power.” Elvane breathed, “I want to have the power the priestess have. To rule over others. I want to be a priestess.” The hate and rage burned in her eyes again. Blazing so brightly and fiercely, Quenthel and the guard commander stepped back at it’s intensity.
A cold smile curved the lips of the Baenre Matron of Arach-Tinilith. She had found a new student for the Spider Queen.
“You will be enrolled in Arach-Tinilith. As a student. You may have the whip for now,” she gestured to the hissing snake whip on the ground. “But when you enter, you will give it to me. Until you complete training. Then we will see if you are still truly worthy of it.”
Red eyes looked at the half flayed male. The smile still curving her lips, she knelt beside the male. Hands hovering a bare inch over his organs. The snakes from her whip wove patterns over the body Softly she chanted.
The male, Wodzaer, arched his back. Muscles suddenly iron hard. Touching the ground by only the back of his head and his heels. The peeled black skin slipped back into position. Healing at the flay lines. His eye opened and he cried out. The cry mingling with the prayer.
The flesh and skin healed, Quenthel placed her hand on the male’s face. Black light flared and a searing pain burned into his flesh. Agony, beyond what he had ever experienced, burned along every nerve and sinew.
She stood up and smiled cruelly down at him. “Get up.” The command was instantly obeyed. He stood before Quenthel. His shirt in tatters. On his torso, a tracery of the flay lines stood out whitely against his ebony skin. On his face, from the forehead to his chin, the marking of a large white spider covered it. The legs wrapping around his cheekbones to the edges of his face. The head on his forehead and the swollen abdomen in the center of his face.
“Having attacked a student priestess, the penalty is death. But you will not die now. You are to watch this young student. To be her guard and servant. In any way she desires. Serve her well and you may live for a time. Disobey her and you die. A sacrifice to Lolth.” Her hand rested gently against the male’s cheek. Her face only a few inches from his. “Be not mistaken, you will be sacrificed to Her. And I will be there. As will her.” The free hand waved to Elvane. “You are now a Slave of the Spider Queen. You live at her Pleasure. Serve Her well.” She stepped back and gestured to her guards.
They left the alley and formed up in the street. “Girl…”
“My name is Elvane.”
“Elvane, gather your possessions and report to Arach-Tinilith immediately. This will pass you into the Temple.” She handed the girl a platinum medallion. The symbol of Lolth was etched deeply into it.
She nodded and bowed low to Quenthel. Her hand seeking out the snake whip.
The high priestess left the alley with a graceful stride and stepped onto her floating disk. Arranging her robes, she looked at the emerging student. “You have this chance to be something you are not. It is up to you to survive and prosper. You have till Narbondel is cold to be at the Gates of Arach-Tinilith.”
Neither female had to look at the great pillar of Narbondel to know that the fires in it were halfway to the top.
Elvane bowed and watched as the procession continued down the street. She glanced at the hissing whip in her hand and the silent male beside her. “Follow me.” Then she was gone. Walking down the street to her , now, old home. To gather a few things and begin her new life as a priestess of Lolth. Dreams of glory and blood filled her mind as she walked. The future seemed dark for her. Very dark and glorious indeed.

Behind them, in the alley, a small spider crawled down the wall and over to the head of the priestess. Another one joined it. And another. Until the head was covered by spiders. A soft laugh echoed in the alley as the spiders devoured the flesh from the head. Leaving nothing but the skull behind.