"Best you don't move. You'll make this harder on him than it has to be," the guard sighed, a look of pity in his eyes.
"What is this place?" I demanded. "Where are-"
"I can't answer you, Tiefling. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you. I'm just supposed to make sure you don't get loose."
"Well, if you don't want me getting loose, then you're going to have to tell me about my companions, because if you don't, I'm going to go find out myself," I replied, practically hissing. "The Shadar Kai-"
"Was loosing her soul, the master said. He was very concerned about her, and gave strict commands that she be kept in a well-lit room- and away from you."
"And I suppose he thinks that the reason that the Drow doesn't talk is because I have him spellbound?" I cried, exasperated. "Clearly, everything is all my fault!"
"No, the Drow doesn't talk because he's got poison ducts surgically implanted in his mouth," the Dragonborn said, the ridges that served as his eyebrows arching upward. "His tongue is there, but even when the master worked with him, it was just a useless flap of flesh in his mouth. The poison is no joke, though. Seems like the Drow females were working with either a spider or a scorpion- the master isn't sure which. You didn't know?"
"No," I lied, crossing my arms over my chest. "I thought he was just mute. And before that, I thought his tongue had been cut out."
"Even mute creatures can at least move their tongue. I don't know how the poor guy eats- how do you swallow without choking, when you can't move your tongue?"
"You lean forward a lot, and only put as much in your mouth as you intend to chew and swallow right away," I explained, now raising my eyebrow. "Or at least that's how I would do it."
The guard shook his head and leaned back against a supporting pole, crossing his own arms. "Well, that's enough out of you right now. The master will work with you too, now that you're awake."
And, having a deep disrespect for any authority that seemed to run in my veins along with my blood, I immediately thought, The master can sit on it. About a minute and a half after that, the ivory-scaled Dragonborn ducked his head into the tent.
"Dziękuję, syn. Proszę zostawić nas w spokoju." He smiled and tilted his head to the side slightly, almost in a questioning way.
"It sounds great," the guard replied, nodding. "Almost no accent at all. I'm sorry I can't speak any back."
"If I can learn, son, so can you. What I recover, I will then teach you, of course. Now please, it is time."
With these words, the guard got up, picked up his sword and left the tent. I sat up, at last, and stared at this "master," who made himself comfortable on the other side of the unlit fire pit.
"I see the furious questions in your heart," he began gravely, "and it is good that you ask them. Questioning the world around you, and your place in it, will eventually bring you to the point of repentance."
"I have nothing to repent of," I shot back, frowning.
"I will not argue with you," the Dragonborn sniffed, his face hardening slightly. "However, whether you are aware of it or not, your infectious hellfire spirit is damaging all around you that do not have the will to stand against you. A creature is gambling with his life the moment he but speaks with you."
"So then let me go my way," I pushed. "Let me leave, and all you know will be safe again, right?"
"Wrong," he thundered, shaking his head. "You must heal what you have harmed. You must be kept in perpetual watch until those that you have affected can be helped. Thus, you will be placed with my personal guard. Come."
He got up, and I sighed as I followed him out of the tent. I was greeted by the sight of Bahlzair- hanging by his outstretched arms between two trees. Two Dragonborn, aided by one rather servile Human, appeared to alternate between questioning him and prodding him with strange, blunt tipped objects.
"What are you trying to do, suffocate him?" I cried at once. "What kind of healing can be done like this?"
"This creature had poison ducts implanted in his mouth, and refused their removal. It seems that for whatever reason, he enjoys being able to literally spit-"
And at just that moment, Bahlzair did indeed spit into one of the Dragonborn faces, causing a hideous scream.
"Release that male!" the leader commanded, staring holes into me. "Stop controlling him this instant! He needs medical attention, or he will never recover from the horrors of this Drow experiment."
"Magic workers don't wear leather armor, you overgrown kobold," I growled. "He's acting on his own accord. Wouldn't you, if you were tied up and poked at like a common beast?"
"He's being tied up and poked at because he has harmed others under your command. My own arm is a testament-"
"He bit you because you reached past him to get to Aleksei, who clearly had absolutely no intention of doing whatever you were asking him. I didn't give any commands," I cut in, moving past him to get Bahlzair down myself. If I made it, I would have been happy to go ahead and get him down. But as I thought, I couldn't get all the way there without a team of Humans and Dragonborn guards grabbing me and forcing me to the ground.
"Allow her to rise, children. Allow her to look upon my son, whom she is claiming that the Drow wishes to defend."
I was bodily turned around by five pairs of hands first, then allowed to get up. Aleksei was still wearing the clothing he came with, was still scarred, and was still missing a quarter of his tail. And although he was far more suited to be in this camp than any of the rest of us, for whatever reason, he was bound by the feet and flanked by guards.
"This is your greatest crime, Tiefling. For Petrinovich was born a scion, was born to wipe your kind from the face of the earth. But he is without wings, without half his sight, even without part of his scales and tail. If I had not known him before this time, I would not have recognized him-"
"He was already wounded when I met him-" I began.
"I am not your son, for the last time," Aleksei thundered. "I am never having wings. It is not me, this Petrinovich. I am not having a Petrin in my family. My father was Stonecrusher Pyotr Ivonovich Voyonov."
"So he has said many times, but I know what I have seen," the leader smiled as he turned to me. "You will help me undo this damage. You will help me to reclaim this scion."
"I can't do the impossible," I shrugged. "The man's not Petrinovich. It's not him."
"I am Stonecrusher by clan. Aleksei is my given name. Petrovich from my father. Voyonov is our family. But I am never even meeting a Petrin, not in all of my clan. I cannot be the son of a male that does not exist."
"The name is awfully close- perhaps this is all a mistake," I reasoned. "Perhaps you just have the wrong clan. Maybe you're thinking of someone from a clan next door? Two snow drifts over to the right?"
"This insolence will not be tolerated- I will accompany you to the Hall of the Horns, and you will do what you must do," the leader commanded. "I have seen all these things in visions, and I read into the hearts within you all, by the power of the Unified."
"Praise be to Bahamut. Praise be to Tiamat," all the camp members responded automatically, as though we had magically entered a service or a sacred festival.
"Am I a part of this?" I asked flippantly. "Praise be to Dispater."
Behind me, Bahlzair chuckled, a burbling sound welling from deep within him.
"Oh yes, and praise be to Lolth, and praise be to Shar, while I'm at it. Bahlzair can't say it, and who knows what condition you've got Jyklahaimra in-"
And I won a solid punch from a guard with that comment.
"It sounds great," the guard replied, nodding. "Almost no accent at all. I'm sorry I can't speak any back."
"If I can learn, son, so can you. What I recover, I will then teach you, of course. Now please, it is time."
With these words, the guard got up, picked up his sword and left the tent. I sat up, at last, and stared at this "master," who made himself comfortable on the other side of the unlit fire pit.
"I see the furious questions in your heart," he began gravely, "and it is good that you ask them. Questioning the world around you, and your place in it, will eventually bring you to the point of repentance."
"I have nothing to repent of," I shot back, frowning.
"I will not argue with you," the Dragonborn sniffed, his face hardening slightly. "However, whether you are aware of it or not, your infectious hellfire spirit is damaging all around you that do not have the will to stand against you. A creature is gambling with his life the moment he but speaks with you."
"So then let me go my way," I pushed. "Let me leave, and all you know will be safe again, right?"
"Wrong," he thundered, shaking his head. "You must heal what you have harmed. You must be kept in perpetual watch until those that you have affected can be helped. Thus, you will be placed with my personal guard. Come."
He got up, and I sighed as I followed him out of the tent. I was greeted by the sight of Bahlzair- hanging by his outstretched arms between two trees. Two Dragonborn, aided by one rather servile Human, appeared to alternate between questioning him and prodding him with strange, blunt tipped objects.
"What are you trying to do, suffocate him?" I cried at once. "What kind of healing can be done like this?"
"This creature had poison ducts implanted in his mouth, and refused their removal. It seems that for whatever reason, he enjoys being able to literally spit-"
And at just that moment, Bahlzair did indeed spit into one of the Dragonborn faces, causing a hideous scream.
"Release that male!" the leader commanded, staring holes into me. "Stop controlling him this instant! He needs medical attention, or he will never recover from the horrors of this Drow experiment."
"Magic workers don't wear leather armor, you overgrown kobold," I growled. "He's acting on his own accord. Wouldn't you, if you were tied up and poked at like a common beast?"
"He's being tied up and poked at because he has harmed others under your command. My own arm is a testament-"
"He bit you because you reached past him to get to Aleksei, who clearly had absolutely no intention of doing whatever you were asking him. I didn't give any commands," I cut in, moving past him to get Bahlzair down myself. If I made it, I would have been happy to go ahead and get him down. But as I thought, I couldn't get all the way there without a team of Humans and Dragonborn guards grabbing me and forcing me to the ground.
"Allow her to rise, children. Allow her to look upon my son, whom she is claiming that the Drow wishes to defend."
I was bodily turned around by five pairs of hands first, then allowed to get up. Aleksei was still wearing the clothing he came with, was still scarred, and was still missing a quarter of his tail. And although he was far more suited to be in this camp than any of the rest of us, for whatever reason, he was bound by the feet and flanked by guards.
"This is your greatest crime, Tiefling. For Petrinovich was born a scion, was born to wipe your kind from the face of the earth. But he is without wings, without half his sight, even without part of his scales and tail. If I had not known him before this time, I would not have recognized him-"
"He was already wounded when I met him-" I began.
"I am not your son, for the last time," Aleksei thundered. "I am never having wings. It is not me, this Petrinovich. I am not having a Petrin in my family. My father was Stonecrusher Pyotr Ivonovich Voyonov."
"So he has said many times, but I know what I have seen," the leader smiled as he turned to me. "You will help me undo this damage. You will help me to reclaim this scion."
"I can't do the impossible," I shrugged. "The man's not Petrinovich. It's not him."
"I am Stonecrusher by clan. Aleksei is my given name. Petrovich from my father. Voyonov is our family. But I am never even meeting a Petrin, not in all of my clan. I cannot be the son of a male that does not exist."
"The name is awfully close- perhaps this is all a mistake," I reasoned. "Perhaps you just have the wrong clan. Maybe you're thinking of someone from a clan next door? Two snow drifts over to the right?"
"This insolence will not be tolerated- I will accompany you to the Hall of the Horns, and you will do what you must do," the leader commanded. "I have seen all these things in visions, and I read into the hearts within you all, by the power of the Unified."
"Praise be to Bahamut. Praise be to Tiamat," all the camp members responded automatically, as though we had magically entered a service or a sacred festival.
"Am I a part of this?" I asked flippantly. "Praise be to Dispater."
Behind me, Bahlzair chuckled, a burbling sound welling from deep within him.
"Oh yes, and praise be to Lolth, and praise be to Shar, while I'm at it. Bahlzair can't say it, and who knows what condition you've got Jyklahaimra in-"
And I won a solid punch from a guard with that comment.
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