Suspolin moved past Bahlzair and into the back of the apothecary with a deeper scowl etched into her dark face than usual. Sitting at her back table with her back to the door, she dropped the roots and seeds that she had in her hand into the mortar and slammed her pestle into it as though she intended to break the thing. Bahlzair's back stiffened at the sharp report.
Tighter crammed than normal, he thought immediately.
I know, Graz'zt responded simply, with a telepathic tone that implied a shrug. Manifesting himself in all his dark blue hued glory, Graz'zt brushed gentle fingers on Suspolin's neck, then stood back. Bahlzair followed his suggestion, getting up from his work to carefully begin working the apothecary's narrow shoulders with his fingers. Suspolin was too angry to respond, so Graz'zt decided to stroke her rage as well. Velryne was a mess, wasn't she?
"Damned sponge," Suspolin spat instantly, the fury setting each word aflame. "All covered up, swishing by without even a nod- like I'm some slave!" She scraped the sides of her mortar, stood to snatch some leaves from one of the hanging racks above her, then slammed herself back down on her bench. Bahlzair, unfazed, simply began to work his way down her shoulders and up her neck as she continued to grind the ingredients into a paste. "Piwafi weren't made to cover hangovers. And if it weren't for me, these so-called assassins and rogues would actually have to think! Perhaps even show some skill!"
It's a shame to make murder so easy! Graz'zt goaded, a smile playing on his lush, dark Cupid's bow lips.
"A shame," Suspolin growled. "I must needs make alchemics so slaves can think themselves Drow- that's enough, aterruce."
But doesn't it feel good? Graz'zt's question eased into Suspolin's mind as Bahlzair allowed the forefinger and thumb of his left hand to trail gently down the side of her taut neck.
"Get off me, I said," Suspolin huffed, shrugging her shoulders sharply. Graz'zt, who Bahlzair could now see sitting on one of the apothecary's shelves, raised an eyebrow at her. "Those two vials on the far table- take them to her, along with the incense."
Bahlzair deeply contemplated snapping her neck, but Graz'zt shook his head, waving his hand toward the potions she'd mentioned. I take rejection oh so very personally, Shadowfire. The ethereal image disappeared, and a well-fleshed female Drow appeared at the apothecary's entryway. Her long, shock white hair was knotted up in intricate braids, and her radiant ruby eyes sliced through Bahlzair at once. How do I look? The female picked her left arm up at the elbow, rubbing her thumb against her fingers as though she were asking for money as she rotated her hand. When her hand had rotated for the third time, she opened her hand, and in it lay Bahlzair's pact blade. Kiss me one for luck?
Bahlzair, glowering at the Drow woman, moved away from Suspolin to pick up the delivery basket on the far side of his work table. He returned to the shelves on his left to pick up the two potions and the incense, and when he turned, the woman had entered the room to tuck his pact dagger under the incense. Her cheek was a mere inch away from his, and Bahlzair looked up from the basket, feeling the heat radiating from her face and upper body while he stared straight forward as though he could ignore it. In a few moments, he turned his head, and the female deftly turned while backing up just enough to avoid smacking into his face. She quickly moved back in, pressing her lips on his- gently at first, then with a gradual intensity that seemed to slow time. The dark Elf waited for the pain that normally registered when his tongue moved, but felt only a pulsating heat that seemed to sink into his bones. His eyes closed, and his stance softened enough for the Drow woman to work one arm under his. She pressed her body against him, and it felt as though for a few seconds, they shared a single, powerful heart beat. Bahlzair stayed locked into the passionate kiss until the female dark Elf retreated from him, and she, when she had, winked at him as she ran her tongue over her lips.
Presentation could use work, but- sufficient. If you stopped pretending that pleasure was torture, perhaps I wouldn't force you to "suffer" it so often, Shadowfire.
Bahlzair lifted his head as the female strode proudly past him toward Suspolin- who still had her back toward the entrance.
"If this woman would but turn around, she would be wiser than the shadow of the void," Bahlzair groaned in his mind, still feeling the revoltingly pleasant reverberations of Graz'zt's infernal touch.
He left the apothecary, turned to his left, and began to descend the barely-necessary platforms toward the shrine. Instead of being a simple burrow into the stone, like most of the other offices and dwellings in the cavern, the shrine was fashioned after an actual temple of Lloth. It sported well-crafted, though structurally unnecessary, buttresses, which were supposed to give the impression of spider's legs, and had a small vestibule before a larger sanctuary area that stood to represent the spider's head and body. It was impressive, given its surroundings, but nothing in comparison to the temple Bahlzair bitterly glared at in his youth. It was also relatively ignored, unlike the center of worship near which he was raised, where more lives could be won, bargained for and lost than on a battlefield.
As Bahlzair neared, he noticed that the Peth, who was normally to be found in the company of Imylshalee or Nedstra, was actually scrubbing the entrance to the shrine. She looked up when she heard Bahlzair approach, and while there was an awkward concern in her eyes, she did not seem to be enchanted.
"Watch it in there," she whispered, leaning over her sponge. "She's in a right foul mood; bid me scrub the place like she were gonna try and summon Lolth to see the place when I were done."
Bahlzair knew Peth did not know enough Undercommon for him to get away with signing to her, but just as he began to move past her, the priestess herself appeared at the entryway to the shrine. Her piwafi was still up over her head, and her stance was strangely more rigid than normal. Bahlzair knelt down and put his face nearly to the ground, but listened for movement. When he heard none, he arose, and found that she had opened her arms expectantly. The Drow male stood and walked cautiously toward her, checking his peripheral vision as he laid his hand on top of the incense. The female figure moved swiftly forward, closing the gap between them faster than Bahlzair had planned, and placed her slender hand on his. Bahlzair looked up, knowing that Velryne would never touch him, yet did not make it down to his blade...
You want to leave that where it is.
...because the sudden mental suggestion was so strong that it may as well have been a command. The creature that was most certainly not Velryne tucked her hand under the incense, found the dagger, and put it directly into Bahlzair's hand. The blood-red eyed dark Elf looked up into wide, copper brown eyes, and found that he was lost in them the way a long lost lover might be.
You want to go back to the apothecary.
And without any contest at all, Bahlzair tucked his pact blade into a large knot in his hair, turned around, and began to move back toward the apothecary. While it was frustrating to be enchanted not once, but twice, it marked this new creature as an interesting challenge. Its mental tone was light and fragile, yet its power was undeniable- even for the strong-willed poisoner.
When Bahlzair arrived back at the apothecary, the strength of the suggestion wore off, leaving behind the intense desire to return to the shrine to discover and destroy the creature. But the scene that had been prepared in his absence was too fetching to ignore. Suspolin, completely believing that the smooth-skinned Drow woman was her new apprentice, had just put her cup down and was looking at it strangely. Bahlzair felt as though he'd entered a five act play half way through the fourth.
"Zhah folbol l'seg'tarn?" Graz'zt's feminine Drow form asked in a charged, yet honey-soaked alto voice. "Ol zhah lil nesst- uk uriu tuain't udossa!" She got up as though she would move against Bahlzair, who rushed toward the back corner as Suspolin began to search for something in her multitudes of pockets. The Drow woman smacked Suspolin's hands down, reaching out her own left hand behind the poisoner and summoning Bahlzair's pact blade directly out of his hair and to herself. Suspolin began gagging and gasping helplessly, and Graz'zt grabbed her throat with her right hand.
"When you awaken, you will be with the Vasharans. Let's have some fun- I'll tell them you are the avatar of Lloth. Now, we know that's not true- but, I'm a demon, my dear. I'm expected to lie."
Suspolin's eyes widened first in fury, then chilled into a profound terror. The Drow woman ran Bahlzair's pact blade along the apothecary's spine gently, then pressed her cheek against Suspolin's shoulder. Her perfectly almond shaped eyes rested on Bahlzair, gleaming with a dangerous pleasure.
"What is it they say- 'Any food may be poisoned,' hmm? And you're the master alchemist. Isn't it the most perfect shame? Fortunately, it'll be no great loss to House Dhuurniv, given that you're foolish, bitter, weak- ah, and absolutely hideous."
Bahlzair moved to Suspolin's left side and and helped the Drow woman move Suspolin to her cot, where they laid her rapidly cooling body. Once that was done, Graz'zt allowed the disguise to dissolve, stretching his features into their true forms with a sigh of relief.
I could say something trite, like 'I don't know how you mortals do it,' but that's just unnecessary, he smiled. How did you enjoy the 'priestess?'
He's an enchanter, Bahlzair thought. A strangely good one.
Oh, he got you? Graz'zt chuckled, flipping Bahlzair's pact blade- catching it at the tip of its blade, then by its hilt, then the blade, then the hilt again. I wondered how that match would play out, and so let you try yourselves on each other. Try again?
Bahlzair thought for a few moments, then pursed his lips. Let him do what he will do.
And if he kills you? the demon prince asked, looking up from his prey to one of his favored pawns.
Bahlzair walked over to his own bedroll on the stone floor, not even bothering to look behind him. I suppose I am simple to replace?
Graz'zt cocked his head slightly at this dare, not willing to give it an answer. Noticing that Suspolin was at last unconscious, he stretched his left hand over her, and both disappeared. Bahlzair turned around and sat down on his bedroll, controlling his breathing. His crimson gaze stared without focus out the entryway, across the bare space, past the rotting ramps and the blazing darkfire, and to the stone on the other side of the cavern. With a little imagination, just a touch, he could meld with it, existing with it- as solid, as cold, and as emotionless.
Yet, the stone in this city, it seemed, was not emotionless at all. Unlike nearly every other place he had lived, there was a raw energy- a bare anger- that breathed extra vibrancy into that which lived in his soul. He had killed more efficiently here than he had done in nearly three quarters of a century- it was as though he had just been released from his cage all over again. He had just begun to touch this inward reality when Imylshalee slid into the room. Her gaze darted about the place for a few seconds, then rested on the only inhabitant it could find.
"Suspolin- just as well," the amber eyed female sighed. "A messenger's run up to Nedstra- quickly, go find the message out. Do what it takes- within reason."
Bahlzair bowed, grabbed up a rag, then hustled out of the room to do as he was requested. By the time he arrived, pretending that he was prepared to clean Nedstra's quarters, the messenger had already told her tale. The head assassin stood behind her desk, which was filled with a bit more than its normal amount of clutter, with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
"You didn't see anyone moving afterward?"
"I didn't stay long enough," the messenger admitted quietly. "They were turning on each other, darting all over the place- I didn't know what to think. I just ran to get here as quickly as possible."
"Enough," Nedstra mused, turning her back to hunt in the area behind the desk for a while. "Get Peth and her team, go prepare yourself for a fight, then watch the border."
The messenger nearly tripped over Bahlzair, who had turned his body so that he was parallel with the entry way. Nedstra stood and turned around at the female's short, surprised grunt, then chuckled to herself. Producing a plate filled with boiled cream treats, she walked over to Bahlzair and tugged on his hair.
The Drow at that moment remembered that Graz'zt had disappeared with his dagger. Again.
"No doubt Velryne or Imylshalee sent you to learn of their success," she grinned. "But I've got news. My scout killed theirs, and their strike team seems to have problems of its own. Go, cha'kohkev rothe. Take these to Velryne."
Bahlzair got up, tucked the cloth into the bottom of his hair's knot, then accepted the plate with a deep bow. Arising and moving away at once, he saw Imylshalee going toward her own room, apparently forgetting that she'd tasked him with finding out the message. He decided to deal with the false Velryne first, wondering which of his poisons Nedstra had chosen to use. His roachpaste was laced with lockjaw- so that the victim was not only nauseated but physically unable to vomit- and his black lotus extract was touched with just a bit of terinav root. He had noted that the store of terinav was perilously low, and wondered what had become of the Human pirates who loaded all their cargo back onto the ship at the command of an Elven captain that carried himself like landed lord.
The shrine was spotless- aside from the untouched spiderwebs- by the time Bahlzair arrived. For the first time, the carved pincers and eyes of the looming spider nearly gave the secondboy-turned-slave pause. The large, intricate web symbols on the ground were actually visible, and Bahlzair briefly noted the handiwork with a nod of approval. He moved past them and into the head of the spider- the entrance to the shrine itself. Velryne would never have permitted him to get past the symbols, but this new creature- who sat at the center of the place, on the bare stone floor with his back to the entry way- was either allowing Bahlzair to take his opportunity against him or inviting him into a certain trap.
Bahlzair tore his eyes away from the branching artwork on the walls and knelt to lay the plate of sweets down in the aisle between the thrown pillows. Neither male Drow made a sound for a while, but there was a soft rasping, as though something were gently pulling its way across heavy cloth.
At last, Bahlzair looked up, deciding to tell the creature something he probably already knew.
"You are not Velryne."
Bahlzair's prestidigitation flashed radiant crimson on the floor before the statue of the spider goddess, but it looked as though the impostor did not even look up at it. The soft abrasion continued, and Bahlzair allowed his image to fade. After a few more minutes, he tried again.
"Nedstra sent sweets for Velryne- take them, or risk being discovered."
A low, unsettling gurgle arose from the creature. Bahlzair let that image fade more quickly than the last message, disturbed by the sound. It was difficult to reconcile it with the mental voice that had compelled him to put his blade away and walk back to Suspolin's room. Obviously the thing had power. But instead of acknowledging the challenger who knew its secret, it chose to taunt him by making itself seem like a madman. The more thought Bahlzair put into it, the more his fury against the creature mounted- its backward superiority, this pretense that a nutter could make a plaything of a full witted Drow, seared him like a hot poker in the eye. He rose, and his pact blade appeared in his right hand.
Each silent step the Drow took toward the covered creature on the floor seemed to take forever to fall. Bahlzair could hear his heart beat, and quieted his breath, focusing on each swelling and hollowing of the creature's back. He planned to catch the inhalation- the swelling, the ungrateful intake of borrowed air that would soon be choked back out with blood. When he was but three steps away, he allowed his long tongue to slide briefly from his mouth, and he wiped the flat of his blade on it.
The creature raised its head, then twitched. It was a strange movement- a sudden jump, as though he'd been hit with the faintest trace of a shock spell. Bahlzair narrowed his eyes as he took his last step forward, angered even further by the apparent frailty of the thing- a weak, jumpy creature had no business being able to turn a well trained mage around like a whipped child. The approaching Drow began to get down into a position to slit the thing's throat.
Before taking another breath, the creature jumped up, pivoting and grabbing Bahlzair's right arm to push it back over his head with his left. Bahlzair saw at close range a flash of ash grey skin and radiant red eyes- and a stalemated stillness reigned between the two for a few seconds- immediately before Bahlzair dealt the thing a vicious headbutt. The man seemed stunned, but before Bahlzair could cast a spell, the ashen Drow raised his right hand and slid something over the pact blade. Bahlzair attempted to pull his arm out of the impostor's grasp, and found- as he stumbled back a single step- that it had been let go. He began a spell, but the grey skinned male Drow simply reached forward and dealt him a solid, open handed slap to the mouth. With a slight twitch, he puckered out his lips and pushed his head toward the pact knife. Bahlzair glanced at it, then stopped himself and truly looked at it. Crossing his arms proudly, the ash grey male began making the gurgling noise again.
The pact blade had been truly sheathed for the first time since Bahlzair had accepted it from Graz'zt's hands. The scabbard was creamy brown leather on the inside, but an unmistakable, weathered ebony black on the outside. Bahlzair looked up, noted the undeniably pleased look on the ash grey male's face, and realized that the gurgling noise was a stunted attempt at verbal communication. Seeing that he had gotten Bahlzair's attention, the male Drow unfurled his slender arms and immediately turned into a whirlwind of communication.
"Don't let it stop you from trying to kill me," he signed rapidly, his hands momentarily unaffected by the rest of his body's strange dancing and twitching. He reached his left hand into his sleeve and produced a slender cord that had also been wrapped in the deep black skin. "An ally merely deserves a quicker death."
Bahlzair reached out and took the cord carefully, watching the trembling hand retreat to its owner's side. He carefully ran the cord through the scabbard's slits and tied it off, thinking deeply as he did so.
"Enchanter?" Bahlzair signed with his free hand once he was finished.
The gurgling popped up in volume momentarily, seeming to indicate a laugh. "The ilithid," the grey skinned male signed back. "Sometimes I find pieces I can still use, but they're still broken."
"They broke you, then?" Bahlzair signed, his eyes narrowing. "You believe in Lloth and the supremacy of females?"
"I believe in pain," fired back the response. "Who causes it, why, and when it is caused, is not always my concern."
"You did better with her skin than she did," Bahlzair signed, watching the Drow's fingers twitch in the air.
The ash grey male Drow looked at Bahlzair like a farmer might gaze at a prized market cow, allowing his eyes to scurry from one part of him to another. Bahlzair, having never been appraised so adoringly by anyone other than Graz'zt himself, felt slightly uncomfortable.
"Two days," the Drow signed, turning his back on Bahlzair suddenly. He dropped to the ground like a creature, loping easily over to the far right side of the shrine.
"Kill more, instead," Bahlzair replied, the prestidigitation cutting across the floor on the man's left side. "You owe me nothing. Revel in your revenge."
The male raised his right arm just slightly enough for his now blood-tipped fingers to be seen, and signed one-handed. "Yours to take, if you decide you want it. Like revenge."
And both Drow smiled.
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