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The year is 1374 DR. Sixteen years have passed since the Time of Troubles, when the gods were made humble, and forced to wander the Realms as mortals. With the ascension of the mad god Cyric, Prince of Lies, and the recent return of the tyrant god Bane, Lord of Darkness, the future of Faerûn seems increasingly uncertain. It falls to bold individuals who possess an abundance of cunning, might, and determination to shape the future... should they be up to the challenge.

Having at last found the Eilistraeans and an unlikely ally along the way, you match Luaue's pace as the three of you proceed further into the desolate halls of the dwarven ruin. "I won't lie to you, sister. We have been hard pressed by ill luck these past few years, so forgive us if we cannot give you the welcome you deserve. We were driven from our home in the Silverwood by fanatics of the beast god. Most of us perished in the fighting, and those who escaped were turned away from the cities where we thought to seek shelter. Though there were once hundreds of us, only dozens now remain," she groans, her tone indicating that she has still yet to come to terms with her bereavement.

"I killed him" you mention nonchalantly, "The priest of Malar. The rest are dead too." You are not in the habit of pitying the dead, nor are not quite certain how you are to respond to her grief regardless. She comes to a stop and stares at your face, mouth agape. You raise a curious brow as she desperately searches your eyes for... something. "Truly?" She queries meekly. "You speak the truth?"

"Yes?" You state, puzzled by her reaction.

Balling her fists, the half-breed's breathing grows ragged as droplets well up in her eyes. Try as she might, Luaue is unable prevent herself from bursting into tears. Without warning, she throws her body against yours and presses her face against your shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. "The gods are still just!" She cries hoarsely. "Long did we fear that they would never answer for the deaths of our loved ones," she stops to catch her breath mid-sentence, "but the goddess has delivered."
>>
>>5519244
You seize up. Though you cannot properly explain what is happening, you do know that it is inexplicably making you very uncomfortable, and you would very much like it to cease immediately. "Stop... crying, girl! Stop!" Bewildered by her sudden outburst, you push her away and sneer. "I am so very sorry." She gulps, doing her best to regain her composure as she continues. "I forget myself - there will be a time for tears, and the road ahead is still filled with perils we must brave."

Why must there always be a complication? "Peril? What peril?" You ask, arms crossed defensively. The half-breed shuts her eyes and steadies her breathing, taking a good long minute to attain something resembling equilibrium. "We haven't nearly as many warriors as we used to, and our chances of escaping this region with our youngest and less capable are not good. Not while the orcs are about." She sighs, and motions for you to follow as she continues.

"And there is no place for us, even if we did. We cannot protect all of those with us in the wild as we are, and there are none willing to offer us protection." You can imagine the thunderous shouts of Dulnur Darkshadow, insisting that drow be afforded nothing before his peers on the council. Even the most lowly goblin slave in the great cities of the Underdark receives sufficient rations and shelter such that they might go on to toil another day, yet he and the traitor would see to it that the Ilythiiri are chased away, even if it was to be the last act of their miserable lives.

"But enough of this. We should be gladdened by your arrival, and the good news your bring. There is still a ways for us to go, and you surely have much you wish to ask."
>She uses a bow? That is an odd choice - we do not have those where I am from.
>Her Ilythiirra is so terrible. She speaks like a human, or worse, a traitor. Why?
>There was a shining blade in the Silverwood that burned me when I touched it, and...
>I mean no offense, but why in the Realms would her mother copulate with a human?
>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?
>[Write-in.]
>>
Previous Adventures:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Forgotten+Realms+Adventures

The Rules™:
https://pastebin.com/VRQHDHSr

Jezyrene's Abilities:
https://pastebin.com/0kjsLuHW

The character sheet will be updated soon.
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>>5519250
>There was a shining blade in the Silverwood that burned me when I touched it, and...
Unless the top option doesn't talk about Talassysnre's body
>The corpse of Talassysnre remains in perfect condition in Eilistraee's sanctum. If this of significance?
>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?

Time to save Jez's soul from Lolth. Here's hoping we'll be able to save the rest of the Eilistraeans from the orcs. And not have them instantly killed by the gnomish artifice on our trail once Jez's guard is just even an inch down
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>>5519297
>If this of significance?
Fuck I meant "is"
>>
>>5519250
>>Her Ilythiirra is so terrible. She speaks like a human, or worse, a traitor. Why?
>>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?
>>
>>5519250
>I mean no offense, but why in the Realms would her mother copulate with a human? Is this that “love” thing that Ilanis was blathering on about, like with Esvele and Zasheir?
>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?
>Why do you think you wouldn’t be welcome in Everlund? Speaker Darkshadow and that Daarthir Arara would certainly whine about it, yes, but you would at least have High Sorcerer Cywir and High Ranger Willow to speak on your behalf. Ilanis would certainly open her doors to a band of Ilythiiri who’d visit The Dreaming Dragon just to talk to you and to see you dance…
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>>5519250
>The corpse of Talassysnre remains in perfect condition in Eilistraee's sanctum. If this of significance?
>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?
>>
>>5519250
And we're back baby!
>There was a shining blade in the Silverwood that burned me when I touched it, and...
>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?
>You say you have lost many warriors? We [indicate Alantha] have slain a band of orcs on our way here. Hopefully that should help. If need be, we can slay many more
I realize the orcs are in the hundreds/thousands but doesn't hurt to spread some hope or if nothing else some assurance in our capabilities
>>
>>5519675
Ah, if possible i'll add
>The corpse of Talassysnre remains in perfect condition in Eilistraee's sanctum. If this of significance?
It's a good question but I feel it goes together with the question about the sword since it was in the sanctum the butterfly hopped onto us and later gave the fire bonus
>>
>>5519250
>There was a shining blade in the Silverwood that burned me when I touched it, and...
>The corpse of Talassysnre remains in perfect condition in Eilistraee's sanctum. If this of significance?
>She said that I am still following the Lolthite ways. What, exactly, does this mean?
>>
Vote closed.
>>
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>>5519297
>>5519353
>>5519560
>>5519593
>>5519675
>>5520011
"I found a sword when I was hunting werebeasts. It was silver, and..." to the best of your ability, you recount the story of your adventure in the Silverwood. Of how you happened across a white blade imbued with potent magics, and of the woman who remained its keeper even in death. Luaue adopts a more confident stride as she directs your party through a passage a head too short for beings of your height, carefully hidden from plain sight by elaborate brickwork.

"To think that the Nelgetha would still be in my mother's hands after so long! If only we could draw upon its power now. Still, you give me something to look forward to seeing if we are able to escape from these vaults." 'Nelgetha' - that would be 'Forgiveness' in the regional human language. A curious name for a weapon. "I tried to lift it. My... ally, too. But we could not."

The ambient temperature gradually rises until you find yourself breaking into a sweat. Soon enough, the narrow passage transitions into a walkway situated far above a river of lambent orange and black fluid that flows sluggishly out into a system of canals. For reasons unknown, the dwarves constructed a complex to harness the power of magma for their own ends. Alantha pants as all present acclimate to the hot air entering their lungs.

"Only a Silverhair Knight can wield the Nelgetha." Luaue coughs, wiping sweat from her brow. "It must be waiting for another worthy soul to take up her cause. Until then, both it and my mother will refuse to rest." The half-breed must realize that there exists no equivalent term where you are from, and decides to elaborate as you stare anxiously at the molten rock below you. "Some priestesses commit their everything to redeeming our kin with mercy and selflessness. They are the Silverhair Knights, and fight other drow without killing if it can be helped, instead striving to show them the errors of their ways. Nelgetha belongs in the hands of a Silverhair Knight, to be used for the good of all our people."

"It burned me when I grabbed it."
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>>5523008
"That is one of Nelgetha's many powers," she says, "it is a bane to all who have slain our kind unless in defense of oneself or another." She briefly turns toward you and purses her lips. "B-but, I am not accusing you of having a bad heart! Everyone here understands the sorts of hardships our people face." The faces of the Ilythiiri that you have slaughtered over the centuries fly through your mind, and you do not regret a single pain that you have inflicted upon those scheming and treacherous souls. "They deserved it," you state plainly.

"Come now," she huffs as your tour of the dwarven ruin takes you through what must have been an armory or treasure trove, now plundered for all its worth. "They are victims of the Spider Goddess and her cruelty, too. You must have suffered greatly, just as they. It could not have been easy for you to step out of Lolth's shadow, especially at your age-"

"What of my age?"

Luaue clears her throat and continues. "It could not have been easy for you to step out of Lolth's shadow. My hope is that you will someday learn to leave her ways behind, and take pity on those drow who cannot find such strength alone." You grunt. "You say that I still follow the ways of Lolth. What do you mean?"

"Lolth and her priestesses have built a society of ignorance and fear. Children are taught to despise the other peoples of the Realms, and threatened to keep them submissive to the goddess even in adulthood. These are the things that we are trying to put an end to once and for all. But..." she shuffles her feet uncomfortably for the briefest of moments. "You are still struggling with the lessons of early life. It is in the way you speak." You decide withhold a response to that statement. Regardless of whether she grasps the intent behind your meaningful silence, she changes the subject.

"We are almost there. Tell me something, sister. Why is it that you chose to seek us out? We have been in hiding for years now, and it could not have been an easy journey, even for warrior such as yourself."

Well...
>[Write-in.]
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>>5523018
>Lolth would happily feast upon my soul the moment I die. I would save myself from this fate. Furthermore, I don't find it disagreeable to live among others like me. It is a rare occasion that I am not immediately met with thinly veiled hatred up here..... It also helps that Eilistraee is a patron of my favorite activities.

Well, looks like Talassysnre could be brought back via a simple revivify if her sword kept her preserved the second she died. Whether or not that's done is up to speculation. Unless Luaue has the money on hand I guess. Still hoping for Tatherin reunion
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>>5523018
>"...I was only recently ousted from my home. My little sister decided that I was in her way, for what I don't know, and she determined that the best way to do so was to say that I had plotted the poisoning of my eldest sister, along with surfacer fraternization and stealing artifacts from Sorcere to sell to interested parties. I somehow escaped from them, thanks to my sisters underestimating my martial skill in Orb Alur. I was never interested in learning the arts of nature survival, having lived mostly in Menzoberranzan, so I figured, if I was going to be accused of surfacer fraternization and such, I would do it on my own terms, and see if this world above was as good as the slaves and your allies whispered it was."
>"And, admittedly, I'd say it is worth it. I'd expect if you gave a male some surfacer food, they'd might have a crisis of faith. And I never would have thought I'd see so much tea in my life! A fortune in it! Of course, books and sufacer clothing are also fascinating, and the places they come from and are about sound amazing as well!"

Geek out a little bit. There's so much stuff we've never seen or heard about that was going on above our heads. No wonder the Lolthite clergy never talked about this shit, half the males would have sprinted for the tunnels if they knew the opportunities.
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>>5523049
Supporting this one.

>>5523018
>>
>>5523018
"I'm uhhhhhh, looking for a mate?"
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>>5523049
Support

>>5523097
Maybe don't give her our life story yet when we give her a fake name.
>>
>>5523018
>>5523049
I'll support this with some kind of reference to the fact that we've gotten some tangible aid from Elistraee on our journeys so far. Seems only natural to seek out they who follow that deity.
But yes, I get the sense family or community is important to Jez, even if it originates in a strange place.
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>>5523516
>Maybe don't give her our life story yet when we give her a fake name.
Agreed.

>>5523589
Oh, good thinking!

>>5523018
To my vote (>>5523134), I'd like to add...

"In any case, Elistrae's blessing may have saved my life against the Beastlord's champion. I suppose I felt I owed it to her to at least make the journey and see for myself how her followers live."
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>>5523049
Unlike the magic of wizards, spells from the gods are more like "requests" which they can freely choose to approve or deny. For their part, the gods of the Realms are very reluctant to restore mortals to full life, and would likely refuse to do so unless the deity performing the resurrection is personally convinced that the revival of a specific mortal is an absolute necessity. Relationships also come into play - Corellon will not revive a Lolthite, even if Arara wanted to. This is usually handwaved on the tabletop, because it would be incredibly annoying if you tried to heal your friend mid-fight but your DM ruled that your god was not in the mood for that tonight.

Comedic aside: revival of nobles and royalty is outright forbidden in most lands, to prevent the return of old claimants to the throne and the like.
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>>5523657
>We haven't nearly as many warriors as we used to, and our chances of escaping this region with our youngest and less capable are not good. Not while the orcs are about.
>And there is no place for us, even if we did. We cannot protect all of those with us in the wild as we are, and there are none willing to offer us protection.

Sounds like the Eilistraeans need all the help they can get right now. Would it really be so terrible to bring back a Silverhair Knight in their time of need? They've already been slaughtered by the Malarites, and are now under threat from Orcs in a land that is nigh universally hostile to them.
>>
Vote closed.
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>>5523049
>>5523097
>>5523134
>>5523412
>>5523516
>>5523589
"I don't want to be eaten."

Your answer elicits confused looks from both Alantha and Luaue. Neither is privy to the nuances of wider Ilythiiri culture. Quietly, you are beginning to wonder why the half-breed seems so ignorant of what should be her heritage. Or at least, the half of her heritage worth knowing. Kindly, you illuminate her. "Every city has a different story. Some say that Lolth eats the dead. Others think there is nothing after we die. Stories like those. No one really knows what happens to us."

"Oh," she says, obviously at a loss for words. Whatever it is that she and hers believe, it must diverge significantly from what you have been taught, enough to baffle her. Pushing through the uncomfortable atmosphere, you go on. "And I want to find a place that I am not hated. With my people," you mention vaguely, deciding to refrain from mentioning your artful sensibilities. However accomodating of your tastes Eilistraee is said to be, you will not make the mistake of confiding too much in her followers until you have seen as much for yourself.

"I can feel that. Sometimes I just feel like nobody in the Realms wants us around." Luaue clicks her tongue. "But that is what we are working to change. Someday we will be accepted in the Realms, no longer feared and hated. Ah, let us... save the serious talk for another time. I'm sure you are tired. Come on, we are nearly there." Pushing through a maze of corridors leading off in any which direction, your guide effortlessly navigates through the complex, until you pass through the entrance of a well-lit room of considerable size.

>>5523589
>>5523634
Worry not, there will be considerable time to spin tales of Jez and her adventures soon.
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>>5526329
"Here we are!" She sweeps her arm in a half-circle and smiles at you. This large rotunda proudly features a statue which has been recently maintained, depicting an armored dwarven king or god, holding a hammer made for combat aloft. His ornately braided beard extends to his knees, a compliment to his mirthless expression. Altogether, the work exudes a certain austerity which you find fascinating. Such a strong contrast to the art of the Ilythiiri, this is - where you are from, art is garish and seldom portrays anything unrelated to the themes of warfare, torture, or primacy.

Circulating throughout the room are Ilythiiri, mostly girls and boys old enough to be independent, though not quite at the age where they fully assume their professions. Mature adults seem to be a minority, and fewer still are the youngest of children. Understandable - the childhood years tend to be among the most violent. All go about their day, sparing inquisitive looks at the heavily-armed new arrival. In low murmurs they gossip... and you have yet to even greet them. Are you so much of an oddity in their eyes?

A peculiar sight draws your attention; people of all ages offering prayers at the statue of the dwarf god. Luaue must have picked up on your observation, as she takes a moment to explain. "Everything was desperate until we discovered this fortress. Our enemies have not found us here, and there are enough provisions to last a long time, together with what we can forage from the Underdark." She glances uneasily at the statue and nods. "Whether intentional or not, what we have here, we owe to Moradin."

Moradin, Moradin... you remember that name. Said to have created the first dwarves, he is the patriarch of their pantheon, a deity respected or at least appeased by all of the stout folk. You know very little of his dogma, other than the single-minded unity and resilience of his followers. Why, then, would he allow the Eilistraeans to take shelter here? A question you have no answer to.
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>>5526332
"Sindiira?" The half-breed calls out to you, drawing you back into the affairs of the moment. You blink twice. "Sorry, but could you wait for a while? I want to make your arrival a real celebration, and to prepare the others for how..." she smiles warmly, sucking in air as she searches for the right words. "... How unique you are, haha!" You shrug.

"All right. We'll make sure everything ready for you. You could explore if you'd like, or just wait here. I hope you brought your appetite!" Your stomach churns as Luaue cheerfully gathers up the mass of her fellows and leads them away. No small amount of time has passed since your last decent meal, but you can muster no enthusiasm at the thought of supping on jellied eels and red lichen. Gods willing, the Eilistraeans have abandoned such traditions.

Leisurely, you take a stroll around the rotunda, spotting a single figure who did not heed the priestess' calls. An older woman, quietly tending to a garden of fungi, the sort that is unique to the Underdark. Lost in thought, she pays you no mind as she plucks select mushrooms from the soil and waters the area around it to provide the rest with ample humidity to grow.

Your journey is at its end, for now. For the first time in so long, you have no immediate goal to pursue.
>My feet are tired, and my mind, exhausted. I will sit and gather my thoughts as I gaze upon this statue of the mighty Moradin.
>Rare is the Ilythiiri that lives to advanced age, doubly so if she is not a priestess. I would take the time to converse with this elder.
>There is time enough to explore this portion of the fortress before the meal, methinks. What secrets do these dwarven vaults conceal?
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>>5526336
>There is time enough to explore this portion of the fortress before the meal, methinks. What secrets do these dwarven vaults conceal?
>>
>>5526336
>My feet are tired, and my mind, exhausted. I will sit and gather my thoughts as I gaze upon this statue of the mighty Moradin.
>Imagine, just for a short moment, the face on Dulnur's face when we tell him how Moradin's fortress helped the Eilistraeans survive.
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>>5526336
>Rare is the Ilythiiri that lives to advanced age, doubly so if she is not a priestess. I would take the time to converse with this elder.
Maybe she's from the old country, and can tell us what to expect of Eilistrae from a ore traditional perspective?

>>5526657
Ha! Dulnur's going to have a conniption.
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>>5526336
>>Rare is the Ilythiiri that lives to advanced age, doubly so if she is not a priestess. I would take the time to converse with this elder.
>>
Vote closed.
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>>5526370
>>5526657
>>5526801
>>5526993
'Sociable' is not an adjective that you would use to describe yourself. Still, it could not hurt to mingle with the strange Eilistraeans. You did, after all, risk life and limb to find them. Having walked a lap around the statue, you casually approach the older woman as Alantha finds a cool slab of stone on which to lay and settles down for a nap. You expect little loyalty from an animal, and even less than a Malarite, although she has displayed an interest in accompanying you for the time being. Time will tell if she continues to do so - hopefully she does not maul anyone, at any rate.

The woman in front of you wears a black garment of modest value, taut enough to fit her form, yet not so much that it would provoke a lustful thought. With a dignified posture, she carries out her task without a single wasted movement; her discerning eye hunts for mushrooms ready for the harvest, and her delicate fingers snatch them up to be deposited in a basket in a single motion. The golden strands in her hair highlighted by the rotunda's candlelight and the subtle crow's feet around her eyes betray her age, although your opinion is that she has gone gracefully into her eld years.

"Greetings," she says, her voice a soft contralto. Finally, someone who speaks Ilythiirra. Devoted to her work, she smiles and addresses you without looking up. "I did not expect Luaue to return with a friend after she went out on one of her walks. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one." She yawns, setting down her basket to shift her focus toward you. "I'm Chessayne."

"Sindiira." Instinctively, you fold your arms defensively and give her a hard look. She nods and clasps her hands together, turning toward the statue of Moradin. "Sindiira," she hums. "It's not often that the highborn come looking to join us, but I think you can come around to our way of living with time." You raise an eyebrow and scrutinize her features, unsure of how to interpret her statement. "You believe that I am a noble?" You query.

"You have an accent," she replies.

Ah. This is the first person to catch you out.
>>
>>5529123
"That half-breed, it seems she knows nothing of our ways. How did one so ignorant become Eilistraee's senior priestess?" You ask. Chessayne sighs, and shuts her eyes for a moment. Instructively, she speaks at you as one might to an unruly child. "Luaue was born on the surface, detached from the old cities. It is the same for nearly all of the young ones here. Most of their parents fell when we fled from the forests, and even they were raised as Eilistraeans." She pauses. "And do try to avoid saying 'half-breed.' They are full people of full blood, just as you or I."

"So you say. What of yourself? You are an Ilythiiri woman, born into the traditions just as I." She nods. "So right you are. I was a talented priestess, and wielded ulsharyorn besides. It seemed inevitable that I would become a powerful Matron Mother." 'Ulsharyorn' is a blanket term for various powers of the mind not wholly dissimilar to magic wielded by many creatures of the Underdark. On occasion, such abilities manifest in individual Ilythiiri, acquired through secondhand exposure, though it is a rare and unreliable gift. "You relinquished the dream of every woman?" You ask in disbelief. "Why do such a thing?"

Chessayne cackles like a madwoman, the first clue suggesting that she was not always some demure do-gooder offering prayers to the Dark Dancer. You are reminded Mother. This is not a good thing. "It was not by choice, dear. I was taken prisoner during wartime after a battle went poorly, captured by my rivals. Being tortured to death was too good for a woman with as much prestige as I. They dressed me in rags, and put me to work hauling stones. For decades I toiled, until I was too weak, too tired, too starved to amuse them."
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>>5529125
"Yet you still live," you remark, impressed. The resilience to persevere even through the cruelest humiliation is an admirable trait for a woman, an ideal to uphold. Chessayne grins. "But the warrior-priestess in me does not. I was sold off at a pittance, traded from one master to another, until an Eilistraean took pity on me and bought my freedom. By my reckoning, I have lived more years with this community than I have as a priestess by now."

"In earnest, I still do not see myself adjusting to this life. To walk apart from House and Queen-" she interrupts, and completes the idiom. "... is to walk into the grave? But this is not the only lie we have been told." The elder looks you up and down. "I can see that you have already been amongst the humans, and other outsiders." She pivots, and looks you in the eye.

"With time, maybe you could leave behind House and Queen and learn to walk with them instead?"
>Impossible. We are Ilythiiri, and they are not. I sought my people out because I know in my heart that they are different from us. I will never be one of them.
>I... am unsure. I have always envisioned the Ilythiirra species with one single identity, never changing throughout our history. Now I do not know what to make of myself, or us.
>I may. I have felt a togetherness with traitors and half-breeds that would have been unimaginable had I still clung to the woman I was not so long ago.
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>>5529128
>I may. I have felt a togetherness with traitors and half-breeds that would have been unimaginable had I still clung to the woman I was not so long ago.
I had always thought that the only way I would ever be speaking to an Ar-tel-quessir would have either been when I was mocking one as they would be brought to the sacrificial table, or as I brought my blade to bear against one. Yet, one had given me words of encouragement, telling me I belonged in their town as much as anyone else there.
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>>5529128
>I may. I have felt a togetherness with traitors and half-breeds that would have been unimaginable had I still clung to the woman I was not so long ago.
>>
>>5529128
>I may. I have felt a togetherness with traitors and half-breeds that would have been unimaginable had I still clung to the woman I was not so long ago.
>>BUT I'm not sure that the outsiders I should walk with are the Elistraeans. What makes them so worthy?
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>>5529128
>>I... am unsure. I have always envisioned the Ilythiirra species with one single identity, never changing throughout our history. Now I do not know what to make of myself, or us.
>>
>>5529128
>>I may. I have felt a togetherness with traitors and half-breeds that would have been unimaginable had I still clung to the woman I was not so long ago.
>>
>>5529128
>>Impossible. We are Ilythiiri, and they are not. I sought my people out because I know in my heart that they are different from us. I will never be one of them.
Racism is a useful tool
>>
>>5529128
>I may. I have felt a togetherness with traitors and half-breeds that would have been unimaginable had I still clung to the woman I was not so long ago.
>But they are different from us, and I fea- I think I will never be one of them fully.
I feel like Jez has had a surprisingly positive experience of the surface world but still would like to have some kind of community of "Drow" like herself around her. The ideal would be succesfully integrating a community such as this with those above that she gets along with.
Very long term.
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>>5529128
>>I... am unsure. I have always envisioned the Ilythiirra species with one single identity, never changing throughout our history. Now I do not know what to make of myself, or us.
>>
Vote closed.
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My nieces have finally moved out. Update later today.
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>>5533505
The terror of nieces or the community of families is oddly relevant for the question at hand. Looking forward to it!
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>>5529244
>>5529303
>>5529470
>>5529503
>>5529617
>>5529901
>>5530123
>>5530347
The question catches you off-guard. Throwing your hands up defensively, you mean to deflect it, though it is far too late. Chessayne smiles and nods approvingly. "I may. A half-breed, even a handful of the traitors have said that I, a true Ilythiiri, deserve to live among them. Never have I felt so..." you fidget. "So accepted, even amongst my kin." The elder clears her throat. "We were one people, and shall be so again," she gently corrects, "so let us remember to put the accusations of betrayal to rest."

"So you say," you mutter skeptically. It is true that you are becoming a new woman, though the thought of totally assimilating with the surfacers seems absurd. Of course, your life has been an exercise in absurdity since the very moment you stumbled your way into the sunlit world. None truly know who you will be in ten, a hundred, three hundred years.

"Sindiira?" Luaue calls out to you from across the room, waving her arms at you enthusiastically. "Come on! Everything is ready!" Placing her hands on her hips, she squints at Chessayne. "You too, Chess. Being alone all of the time can't be good for you." Rolling her eyes, the woman sets her baskets down and faces you as she extends her hand toward Luaue.

"Shall we?"
>>
>>5534280
You pass through an arched corridor leading into a grand banquet hall. From far above, chandeliers cast muted light down onto a magnificent long table of carved marble, at which forty or so of your kindred sit. All around you, the walls are masterfully engraved with letters in the familiar yet unknown language of dwarvenkind, the names and stories of those long-gone inhabitants which once called this place their home.

The highlights of this location are the lovingly-made statues situated at the end of the room. Arranged in a demicircle, the diverse pantheon adored by the dwarves stands vigilant in the background, gracious enough to extend their protection to the Ilythiiri. Below them, a group plays a melody with instruments both foreign and familiar, and before them is a cushioned chair of gilded iron suitable for a dwarf king, placed at the table's end.

Wordlessly, Luaue leads you to the privileged chair and seats you - it seems that you are the guest of honor today. Even when House Delyl's fortunes were at their most favorable, dining in such opulence was far beyond your means. "Everyone," announces the priestess, who motions at the instrumentalists, signaling a temporary halt in their performance.

"Joining us is Sindiira, the woman who avenged the tragedy of the Silverwood. With the invaders driven from our former home, we would celebrate this victory with dance, and mourn for those of us who did not survive the journey here." You spot an array of emotions manifesting in those gathered here, but Luaue puts a stop to this with a powerful shake of her head.

"Yet we shall not dance until we are free to do so under the moon's light, nor shall we mourn our fallen until they can at last be laid to rest. Instead, we will honor the woman who has traveled here to seek out our company with feast and song, and observe the good news that the gods have given unto us." The priestess bows politely toward you, and sits herself by your side.
>>
>>5534283
All eyes fall on you, as though you are expected to deliver some rousing peroration. You, however, are not one for speeches, and the music resumes after it becomes evident that you've little left to add. What's worse, the dominant language here is a human one. Needless to say, you will not be winning hearts and minds with fancy rhetoric today.

One by one, youths carrying plates of sausage and rice topped with mushrooms file in, setting out your meal. Grain is a luxury in the Underdark, meaning that you are fortunate to enjoy glutting yourself on the abandoned dwarven stockpiles. You are given a tankard of dark stout, and your first hearty meal in what feels like a tenday commences.

"Is it true? Th-that you killed the werebear." Asks a girl, who seems in awe of your presence.

"Goddess willing, she managed to find us!" Exclaims another.

"Where did you learn to use those swords?" Queries a curious boy.

Time flies as you spin the yarn of Sindiira Torani, wrestling with their language to explain what happened on her perilous quest, and how she searched far and wide to find them - yes, them, the Ilythiiri, her people. For every answer you provide, there are two more questions demanding further details. Eventually, Luaue intervenes, rising to her feet to address those present.

"E-everyone, please slow down! The journey here can't have been easy for Sindiira. There is only so much of her to go around!" Another disturbing idiom involving cannibalism. What is it with surface-dwellers and this barbarity? She claps her hands and smiles, pivoting toward you. "I have an idea. Few of us remain who remember anything of life in the Underdark, where our people rule. Why not tell us a story from your homeland?"

A story, she says?
>Woe is me, for I lament the bygone days of my life. Ah, when I was their age, I...
>Nothing quickens the pulse like a good war story. Children enjoy that sort of thing, no?
>How about a folk tale shared among our people? These young ones seem out of touch with our culture.
>Weaving stories is for the bards. I merely wish to finish my meal and get some rest.
>I've a different story in mind... [Write-in.]
>>
>>5534284
>>How about a folk tale shared among our people? These young ones seem out of touch with our culture
>>
>>5534284
>How about a folk tale shared among our people? These young ones seem out of touch with our culture.
>>
>>5534284
>How about a folk tale shared among our people? These young ones seem out of touch with our culture.
>>
>>5534284
Quite the cozy and amusing update! I didn't realize this would seem that opulent to Jez
*clears throat*
>Nothing quickens the pulse like a good war story. Children enjoy that sort of thing, no?
I would say halfway through Jez might realize the kids are horrified and switch to telling a story about the song of friendship instead?
>>
>>5534284
>Nothing quickens the pulse like a good war story. Children enjoy that sort of thing, no?

As much as I'd love Jez to go on about how she was tortured by her mother, it seems out of character. Also I do hope Alantha isn't about to eat someone if she gets hungry.
>>
>>5534284
>>Nothing quickens the pulse like a good war story. Children enjoy that sort of thing, no?
>>
>>5534284
>How about a folk tale shared among our people? These young ones seem out of touch with our culture.
If they ask for more stories, read them The Pretty Princess of Myth Drannor.
>>
Vote closed.
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>>5534436
>>5534504
>>5534508
>>5534537
>>5534794
>>5535005
>>5535016
All eyes fall on you as your audience awaits your words with bated breath. It made sense - with most of the adults dead, and the few who remain far removed from life in the Underdark, it is a matter of course that these people would know little to nothing of their culture. This, you feel, was not at all what you were hoping for when you set out to traverse such a great distance in search of them, though it is what it is. If nothing else, you are their guest. Sharing tired old legends is not too much to ask.

"Do you know of the Lolthtanchwi?" You ask. Those present exchange curious looks and low mutters, but no individual offers an affirmative answer. "It is not a story the darthiir would tell. It is an Ilythiirra legend." One cheery girl, nearly an adult, speaks up enthusiastically from across the table. "Lolthtanchwi? What does that mean?" You shovel a spoonful of rice into your mouth and chew thoughtfully as you rack your brain for a translation that conveys the intent of the term.

"The Punishments of Lolth."
>>
>>5538324
A heavy silence falls over the dining hall as you speak those words. Disparate conversations seem to die away as the mood grows unexpectedly intense. Regardless, you do not hear a single objection from your captive audience, and accept this as permission to continue.

"Lolth watches all Ilythiiri. Always curious, and ready to judge. But when she likes one of us, she tests us." An undercurrent of fear and confusion begins to run through the minds of those present. You can alleviate but one of those, by further elaborating on the connotation of 'Lolthtanchwi.' "We say these tests are the 'Punishments,' because the only reward is to live another day."

One by one, you share the tale of what each of the many tests entails, from the simple Test of Ambition and Test of Lies, all the way to the perilous Test of Domination. How exceptional Ilythiiri are shown divine signs by the Weaver of Chaos indicating that they are chosen, and made to prove themselves on pain of death, or suffer whatever other capricious cruelty amuses Lolth at that moment. That success necessitates clinging to ambition at the expense of all else, and the lessons one learns in doing so - to deceive and betray one's allies, to offer up things precious to oneself as sacrifice, and to utterly destroy one's enemies, no matter their race or creed.

For hours, you spin yarns of horrors the likes of which were relegated to the domain of nightmares for the naïve young Eilistraeans. "Then," you pause for emphasis, "there is the last test." You scan the faces of the crowd, children and adults and those somewhere between. One woman bites at her nails nervously in anticipation of the reveal. A pair, boy and girl, hold hands and look upon you with abject terror. Nonchalantly, you finish the final morsel of your meal and yawn.

"The goddess will find you, and you must fight her avatar in the flesh. This is 'Chwiloth,' the Test of Lolth."
>>
>>5538330
As though the air itself were suffocating beneath the oppressive weight of such frightful myths, all the ruin is still, sans the muted noise of the distant magma flow and the soft breathing of Chessayne, who fell asleep in her chair part of the way through. The priestess is the one to break the silence, standing from her chair. "I... these are just stories meant to scare the little ones, yes?" Opting to allow her to come to her own conclusions, you hold your tongue.

Initially alarmed by what she has heard, Luaue finds herself, and speaks. "But, I am grateful. I was always grateful for the life I was given, you see. Yet, I had no idea that this is the life we are living away from. Everyone has heard the stories, yes, but... well, you've given us so much more to think about." She gulps. "Well. Dinner is over, everyone. Let's all get some rest."

Breaking off into cliques, the young Ilythiiri collect their dishes and begin to disperse, vigorously discussing the tales you have told. "And Sindiira, go ahead and find a room that you'd like to rest in. There is a dormitory down the hall, but I don't know how things are done where you're from." The priestess bites her lip. "A-and, there is something I would like to talk to you about, once you're feeling up to it."

Bowing again, Luaue excuses herself, and you are left to your own devices.
>She said she wanted to talk? Then what better time than the present? I am feeling just fine.
>More than anything, I would very much like to sleep in a bed right now. Where is this dormitory?
>Now is my chance to explore this fortress, and to learn of the secrets which have long slumbered in its depths.
>>
>>5538335
>She said she wanted to talk? Then what better time than the present? I am feeling just fine.
>>
>>5538335
>She said she wanted to talk? Then what better time than the present? I am feeling just fine.

Man, that's one hell of a conversation. Did she also talk about how those that failed get turned into driders?
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>>5538450
If only they were all so lucky.
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>>5538335
>She said she wanted to talk? Then what better time than the present? I am feeling just fine.
>>
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>>5538465
I mean, at least with Driders you'd have a steady diet of perverts who'd want to try to fuck a spider-taur, and with the Chwidencha they'd be too far gone to care about anything at that point.

Shunned, though...
>>
>>5538335
>>She said she wanted to talk? Then what better time than the present? I am feeling just fine.
>>
>>5538335
Man, Drow culture really sucks huh? Still amusing of Jez to orate about it.
>She said she wanted to talk? Then what better time than the present? I am feeling just fine.
Best get it over with, then we can explore the keep ASAP in the morning. I have a feeling we really shouldn't remain here for long.
On a meta level, if anyone would have some kind of armor piercing tool to destroy a gnome war machine, it would be dwarves.
>>
Vote closed.
>>
>>5538377
>>5538450
>>5538489
>>5538693
>>5538780
Not one to remain idle when there is much to be done, you hurry to catch up with the priestess before she is out of sight. Caught off-guard by your eagerness, she inclines her head toward you and studies your features. "What is it, sister? Did you need some directions?" You place your hands at your sides and shrug. "You said you wanted to talk. So we talk," you comment. "And, I am not your 'sister.'"

Luaue blinks and mutters something under her breath, giving you a brief hard look until her features relax. "Yes, yes of course. But..." she peeks over your shoulder. "Not in front of the children. This is a matter for us grown-ups." You haven't the slightest clue what the woman means by 'grown up,' considering the size disparity between them and yourselves is insignificant, though you decide to nod knowingly, wishing to get on with things.

The Eilistraean leads you further still into the guts of the fortress, where the air grows more stale and the floor more dusty with each step. It is as though the stout folk were determined to burrow into the bones of the world itself, or so you feel. She pivots, and ushers you into a small alcove, long gutted of its valuables. You step inside, unconsciously keeping a hand on the hilt of the Dark Fantasy out of habit.
>>
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>>5542387
"Our life here is not bad, but I know that it cannot last. Those adults who remain have our hands full looking after the young ones, and our supplies are..." she hesitates. "We have months of them remaining. No, we will not starve this tenday or even the next, but we do not have the choice of remaining here." Exasperated, the half-breed rests her weight against the wall and shuts her eyes.

"What I truly fear are the orcs. Few enough of us can defend ourselves as we are, and those who can stand no chance against their leader should he catch us." This piques your interest. "You saw their leader?" You wonder. Luaue laughs half-heartedly. "Not up close, no. Those of us who know how spy on them when we can. They call him 'Wurgoth Twice-Scarred,' or I think that's how you translate it."

She wets her lips and goes on. "He is a butcher. Slowly, he has been uniting smaller tribes of orcs under his banner by slaughtering those who stand against him. His double axe carves up armored men like... like they were wearing cloth!" The so-called 'double axe' is a uniquely orcish weapon, two double-bladed axes attached to either end of a haft. Though most would make fools of themselves by attempting to wield such an implement, the abnormally muscled orcish physique makes it a formidable weapon in the hands of the right warrior.
>>
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>>5542391
Wringing her hands, Luaue lets out a frustrated sigh. "And there is no place for us, even if we did escape. The humans turn us away, and providing for the all the young ones in the wild will be no sure thing. I just..." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"What about Everlund?" You inquire. She shakes her head. "They would not let us in. The men at the gates said we had to be approved by majority vote from their council. Chess says we should try appealing to the humans again, but I am not so hopeful." 'Majority' is new word, but you are able to intuit its meaning. The Eilistraeans would need at least four members of the council to approve of their entry.

You rest your hand upon your chin and try to work out how such a vote would play out given what you have witnessed during your own meeting with the council. Dulnur and the traitor bitch would doggedly refuse, unless somehow forced to support the measure. It is difficult to envision Amaranth denying shelter to those in need, and the paladin seems to trust him at his word.

This leaves Tenpenny and Greycastle. Both would likely be swayed by whatever their personal interests were at the time. Although, if either one of them were against it, then the vote would simply fail regardless. All-in-all, the odds of the Ilythiiri finding safety in Everlund are quite poor unless someone convinces the elders on their behalf.

The situation will not resolve itself. Something must be done.
>Why not return to the Silverwood? Our people are resilient, the children will learn to survive.
>Everlund's council, I have spoken with them. I will... persuade them to grant you shelter in the city.
>These lands are vast. There must be some place willing to take them in, and we will find it together.
>[Write-in.]
>>
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The curse strikes again. But rest assured, the quest will go on.
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>>5542395
>>Everlund's council, I have spoken with them. I will... persuade them to grant you shelter in the city.

>>5542396
Worry not
>>
>>5542395
>So If I were to slay this Twice-scarred, the problem would go away or at least buy you more time? Alantha, do you know where we might ambush-slay this orc?
>Given enough time I think I could convince the council [Tenpenny and Greycastle's pivotal points]. No doubt it would require performing some task... Perhaps we could return to Silverwood meanwhile, now that the malarites have been driven away?
>Perhaps there might be something in this dwarven ruin that could help barter our passage as well, if we- I search it.
Glad to have you back as always, Ed!

Basicly different venues to buy time to convince the Everlund council to at least temporarily give us shelter.
>>
>>5542395
>>These lands are vast. There must be some place willing to take them in, and we will find it together.
>>
>>5542395
>Everlund's council, I have spoken with them. I will... persuade them to grant you shelter in the city.
>At the very least, Cywir would be willing to speak positively for you. Dulnur is, of course, Dulnur, but perhaps the return of a dwarven stronghold or their property into his peoples hands might cause him to hold his tongue for a moment?
>Until then, why not return to the Silverwood? Our people are resilient, the children will learn to survive.
>>
>>5542395
>>Why not return to the Silverwood? Our people are resilient, the children will learn to survive.
>>
>>5542395
>So If I were to slay this Twice-scarred, the problem would go away or at least buy you more time? Alantha, do you know where we might ambush-slay this orc?
>Failing that, why not return to the Silverwood? Our people are resilient, the children will learn to survive.
>>
>>5542395
>Everlund's council, I have spoken with them. I will... persuade them to grant you shelter in the city.
>Why not return to the Silverwood? Our people are resilient, the children will learn to survive.

Political intrigue with Jez sounds entertaining, though I imagine it would just end up as killing people for either Tenpenny or Greycastle. And working with Tenpenny really doesn't interest me considering his earlier actions towards Jez. Either way, Jez cleared out the forest and they lived in the Silverwood prior to being forced out by the Malarites. This gives them a theoretically safe area to stay while Jez messes about. It also gives a reason to visit Amaranth again to get that lesson Jez wrangled out of him. Even if we only visit him to have our dreams crushed

>>5542621
>ambush-slay
What are you, a Skaven?
>>
>>5542395
>So If I were to slay this Twice-scarred, the problem would go away or at least buy you more time? Alantha, do you know where we might ambush-slay this orc?
>Everlund's council, I have spoken with them. I will... persuade them to grant you shelter in the city.
>>
>>5542456
+1
>>
Vote closed.
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>>5542427
>>5542429
>>5542447
>>5542456
>>5542474
>>5542621
>>5542670
>>5542780
>>5543351
"What if I kill him? Twice-Scarred." You hypothesize. "Will that help you?" In a way most jovial, the half-breed chuckles and claps you on your shoulder. "Big talk. I hope you brought an army with you, sister!" Forcefully, you push her away, evoking a knowing nod from the woman as she takes a step back.

"Sorry, sorry. But I won't put you up to something so dangerous. Wurgoth must lead thousands of warriors now, his Thousand Scars, with ogres and giants among them." She draws a frustrated sigh. "And I have seen him in battle. I have a good sword arm, but he fights more like a demon than a man. If only one of us could wield Nelgetha, we might stand a chance. But without Nelgetha and my mother to wield it, the safe choice is to stay away."

"Hmph." You are not sure whether she is genuinely concerned for your well-being or if this is merely some sort of backhanded insult. Does this mongrel child truly believe you incapable of putting down an orc warlord? "Fine. You can go to the Silverwood. The werebeasts are dead now," you reassure her. Luaue considers this, though still, she seems reluctant.
>>
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>>5544948
"That may be true, but I don't know if our weakest will manage. The forest protects those know learn its teachings..." she goes on. "And our youngest were only just learning them." You place your hands at your sides and pridefully stare down Luaue. "I fought to kill at four years, and so did other Ilythiiri. Those girls and boys will struggle and live. Our race is strong, they will do it."

"Why are you like this?!" She snarls, covering her mouth as she soon comes to feel that uttering those words was a grievous mistake. "I'm... sorry. I know why you're like this. You only want to help us - and I want to help you. But as the last remaining priestess that has finished all of her training, protecting the future we have in those children is more important to me than anything else. Please, try to understand that."

You cross your arms and grunt. Luaue behaves like a soft-bodied surface-dweller who coddles her gaggle of annoying children far too much, which is deeply infuriating. Even so, she is redeemed by the worthy half of her bloodline, and you did not travel this far to simply abandon your people, perverse deviants though they are. What you need is a solution that will satisfy them.
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>>5544955
Sucking in air between your teeth, you pitch your next idea. "I know the council. I can make them help you. You can wait in the Silverwood until I do." This is a promise that you cannot necessarily deliver on - but you are determined. The priestess seems to find this plan agreeable, as she throws her arms around you and plants her lips on your forehead. Again, you react by shoving her back, though she smiles warmly.

"Even if you are denied, I am grateful that you are willing to stand up for us. Our ways are not yours, no, but knowing that one of our own has a good heart fills me with hope. Should we make it through these dark times, I swear, we will repay you." The plan is settled, then. "What about leaving? How do we get out of here?" You inquire. "I have a few ideas. We can talk about that some other day. You are tired, and you've done more than enough for us," she answers. "Please, leave the preparations to me. You've earned the right to relax."

Luaue extends a hand toward you as if to touch you again, but withdraws it at the last moment and bows. She departs with a determined gait, leaving you on your own. What will you do now?
>The only thing on my mind right now is taking my boots off and laying down. Do they have a bath here?
>Taking a walk around this place after a nice meal suits me. What secrets did the dwarves leave behind?
>I wonder, where oh where did Alantha wander off to? I want to ask her more about Wurgoth and the Thousand Scars.
>Perchance I shall mingle with the Eilistraeans for an hour or so, and confer some of my wisdom to these children.
>>
>>5544956
>Perchance I shall mingle with the Eilistraeans for an hour or so, and confer some of my wisdom to these children.
It's been a while since we've danced, and one of the big things about this religion is dancing.
>>
>>5544956
Wait a minute, is Jez a difficult person to deal with? Who knew!
>I wonder, where oh where did Alantha wander off to? I want to ask her more about Wurgoth and the Thousand Scars.
I like Alantha but lets make sure she's not eating one of the locals, especially the kids. Not a good idea to let her out of sight.
If there is time I would also want to do
>Taking a walk around this place after a nice meal suits me. What secrets did the dwarves leave behind?
But I can respect if there's a time limit. It's what I would have picked if I wasn't concerned about Alantha.
>>
>>5544956
>>The only thing on my mind right now is taking my boots off and laying down. Do they have a bath here?
>>
>>5544956
>I wonder, where oh where did Alantha wander off to? I want to ask her more about Wurgoth and the Thousand Scars.
>>
>>5544956
>I wonder, where oh where did Alantha wander off to? I want to ask her more about Wurgoth and the Thousand Scars.

Big cats left free to prowl around children? No thanks.
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>>5544956
>>Taking a walk around this place after a nice meal suits me. What secrets did the dwarves leave behind?
>>
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>>5545064
We are culling the weakest children to ensure that future generations grow up healthy and strong. It is an ancient Ilythiirra tradition.
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>>5544956
>>The only thing on my mind right now is taking my boots off and laying down. Do they have a bath here?
>>
Vote closed.
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>>5544969
>>5544970
>>5545003
>>5545013
>>5545064
>>5545268
>>5545758
Concluding your conversation with the half-breed, you wander the halls of the fortress in search of Alantha, the displacer beast. She is nothing if not a unique companion, and you fear you may be held to account if by chance she decided to maul one of the children. Such deaths may be common hazards worth disregarding where you are from, though the Eilistraeans seem to care deeply for the young ones. Why they do such a thing is uncertain - then again, there does not seem to be any internal logic to their ways from where you stand.

Energetic children scurry all about, preparing to settle in for the night, exchanging gossip, and playing games such as 'tag,' which, strangely enough, does not involve beating one's opponent senseless. You do not recall experiencing this much enthusiasm for such mundanity when you were a girl. Rather, you were simply preoccupied with racing lizards, wooing others your age, and stealing anything you could fit in your pockets. What is wrong with today's youth?

Sitting lazily near the edge of the walkway overlooking the magma flow is the beast, the Malarite, chewing on the cruelly mutilated remains of a humanoid. Much to your relief, they are far too large to belong to any Ilythiiri. She must have gone hunting during your meal, though the egregious butchery in front of you suggests that she may simply enjoy playing with her food. Gulping down a length of intestine, Alantha purrs as you approach. "What Sin-diira wants?"

Well...
>How long does she intend to continue following me, exactly?
>Twice-Scarred or I, who would be victorious in a fight?
>I am curious - what is her view of the Eilistraeans, now that she has met them?
>Does she have any good hunting stories to tell?
>She has been hunting the Thousand Scars. What are their methods, their tactics?
>Talk about... [Write-in.]
>>
>>5548914
>>How long does she intend to continue following me, exactly?
>>I am curious - what is her view of the Eilistraeans, now that she has met them?
>>She has been hunting the Thousand Scars. What are their methods, their tactics?
>>
>>5548914
>I am curious - what is her view of the Eilistraeans, now that she has met them?
>Talk about the virtues, as she sees them, of Malar
Elistrae may be fine for these people, but I don't think they're right for Jez. Maybe it's time to consider other gods?
>>
>>5548914
>How long does she intend to continue following me, exactly?
>I am curious - what is her view of the Eilistraeans, now that she has met them?
>She has been hunting the Thousand Scars. What are their methods, their tactics?
>>
>>5548914
>I am curious - what is her view of the Eilistraeans, now that she has met them?
>She has been hunting the Thousand Scars. What are their methods, their tactics?
>>
>>5548914
>Twice-Scarred or I, who would be victorious in a fight?
>Do you think we could kill him together?
>How long does she intend to continue following me, exactly?
>>
Vote closed.
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>>5549952
But update forthcoming, right?
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>>5549106
>>5549292
>>5549298
>>5549403
>>5549743
"What I want, beast, is to know how much longer you intend to continue following me," you remark pointedly. Alantha is no doubt a capable ally to have around, yet she is a wild animal, a carnivore, and a Malarite atop it. While she has demonstrated remarkable intelligence and restraint, her allegiance is suspect, and she does not hesitate to kill when it suits her. In this regard, she more resembles the other Ilythiiri than the Eilistraeans...

"Like Sin-diira!" She howls, whipping her tentacles at the air gleefully. "Hate-maim-kills Scarred Ones! Is strong, alpha female. Has good, strong scent of Ma-lar, yep-yep!" The displacer beast rises to stretch in place and reposition herself to warm the other side of her body with the ambient heat. "Follow Sin-diira for long, long time." Again, she claims that you wear the 'scent' of Malar. Whether this is to be taken literally, or if it is some figure of speech meant to indicate that you hold his favor is unknown.

"I... see. And, what of Sin-diira's kin-folk?" You inquire, accidentally picking up some of Alantha's idiosyncrasies. "The Eilistraeans," you correct. Alantha's tentacles relax and come to rest along her back as she ponders your question. "Deadly, best hunters in moon-night-shadow. Why they waste time playing games with Moon Dancer instead of blood-sweat-chase? Still need mother, like littlest cubs - worthy for hunt... but not yet."
>>
>>5553405
"Are you saying that they will be worthy prey when they have grown older?" You ask. "Yep-yep! Little cublings grow, grow until strong like Sin-diira, ready for maim-tear-kill! Verrry good." The philosophy of the Beastlord continues to perplex you, even as the most rudimentary manifestation of his teachings sits before you and extols his virtues. It seems that even Alantha values the sport of chase and kill above any moral or practical concern.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you peer over the edge of the bridge, regretting your mistake as you hastily back away from the formidable view of a long drop into a river of molten stone. Inhaling sharply, you move to your next question. "And what of the Thousand Scars? You have slain plenty of their ilk, no doubt. How do they fare against Alantha?"

"Hate Scarred Ones!" She growls. "Scarred Ones maim other packs, dominate one by one, until biggest pack. Other packs still wild, untamed. But first Scarred Ones learn ways of Dark One, taught hu-man ways of hunt. No chase - only slaughter. Must paw-paw behind them quick-fast-silent, tear them from armor..." she trails off, grumbling to herself in frustration.
>>
>>5553407
If you are to understand this correctly, there are in fact 'two' groups known as the Thousand Scars. The first is the core and original tribe, allegedly skilled in the human way of war, derived from the teachings of this 'Dark One.' You strongly suspect that this is likely one of the many surfacer gods. The second is the warband that Twice-Scarred has assembled by subjugating his rivals, who seem to adhere to the orcish tradition of being cultureless savages reliant on brute strength and innate ferocity.

A yawn escapes your mouth, a sign that your body is beginning to protest against your prolonged day. You have not taken a single rest since you first entered the Underdark, a fact which the muscles in your posterior are keen to remind you of. You reason that you have enough verve to persist an hour longer, and no more. There is only so much to be done this late in the day, at any rate.

What now?
>Enough, enough! I am laying down. Perchance I could do some reading until I fall asleep.
>Against my better judgement, I will interact with these deplorable, annoying children. What could possibly go wrong?
>Truly, I would very much like to explore the ruin further. The dwarves must have left something interesting behind.
>>
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>>5553365
I have been trapped in the Wage Cage this past month - truly a fate worse than death.
>>
>>5553410
>Against my better judgement, I will interact with these deplorable, annoying children. What could possibly go wrong?

As if there's any other choice when you end the option like that.
>>
>>5553410
>>Against my better judgement, I will interact with these deplorable, annoying children. What could possibly go wrong?
>>
>>5553410
>>Enough, enough! I am laying down. Perchance I could do some reading until I fall asleep.
>>
>>5553410
>>Truly, I would very much like to explore the ruin further. The dwarves must have left something interesting behind.
>>
>>5553410
>Enough, enough! I am laying down. Perchance I could do some reading until I fall asleep.
Don't overdo it!
>>
>>5553410
>>Against my better judgement, I will interact with these deplorable, annoying children. What could possibly go wrong?
Consider it preparation for having her own children later
>>
>>5553410
>>Enough, enough! I am laying down. Perchance I could do some reading until I fall asleep.
>>
>>5553410
>Enough, enough! I am laying down. Perchance I could do some reading until I fall asleep.
Except no reading, just rest! We can talk to the kids and explore tomorrow.

Incidentally, I like how the person most similar to Jez in many ways in this little town of "Drow" is a a displacer beast. Go figure.

Also, do we get a sense that displacer beasts ever hunt in groups from what Alantha is saying? Working with a pack to ambush a group of orcs could be something to consider over time.
>>5553412
I hope it gets better!
>>
>>5553410
>Enough, enough! I am laying down. Perchance I could do some reading until I fall asleep.
I ORDER you QM to make the other option available again at some point soon. I want to see the cranky old drow with a dozen children hanging off her. This is a threat.
>>
>>5553410
>>Against my better judgement, I will interact with these deplorable, annoying children. What could possibly go wrong?
>>
Vote closed.

>>5554016
Displacer beasts run with prides, though sometimes hunt alone or in pairs. Being more intelligent than most mundane animals, they tend to self-organize and can execute coordinated attacks. They sometimes hunt for recreation instead of sustenance. All in all, not the sort of critter you would want to run into while camping.
>>
>>5553443
>>5553524
>>5553573
>>5553628
>>5553688
>>5553724
>>5553917
>>5554016
>>5554114
>>5554170
Alantha is no conversationalist, nor are you a garrulous woman. At the insistence of your sore buttocks and aching knees, you wordlessly part ways with her and set off to find the dormitory which Luaue spoke of. Of course, you haven't the slightest clue as to what a 'dormitory' is, though by the sound of it you will be able to peacefully rest your head there.

Aimlessly, you wander down a corridor lined with doors on each side, all tightly shut, until you happen upon one which is open. Beyond it is a small room containing naught but a pile of hay covered in layers of sheets, acting as a sort of makeshift bed, and a stall stand upon which a heatless candle burns. The magma river in flowing the distance regulates the climate of this place, keeping the air comfortably warm and dry for you - a true marvel of dwarven ingenuity.

Shutting the door behind you and taking care to lock it twice, you strip down to your undergarments and settle in. From your bag, you retrieve the third book you purchased when you first visited Everlund's Bell Market, titled 'My Wife is a Yuan-ti Spy!?' Curiously, you never quite got around to reading this one. There is no time like the present, you suppose.
>>
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>>5556869
This is no story; rather, is a collection of skits for two participants about Ssazsha, a semi-reptilian humanoid woman known as a yuan-ti. The yuan-ti, according to this work, are an evil serpentine race beholden to dark gods, who aim to infiltrate and subvert human society to further their malicious goals. As a part of her mission, Ssazsha takes on the human name of 'Sasha' and becomes a resident of a nondescript town, marrying a young shoemaker named Stedd Workman as a cover.

The details of Ssazsha's mission are never made clear. She spends her days pretending the part of Stedd's spouse, and relaying her observations to her superiors through missives. Rather, the focus seems to be on the other side of the yuan-ti's life; the Workman Home is described the picture of poverty, and Stedd makes barely enough to save with his craft. Despite this, he labors with gusto, happy to provide for his family and spend his spare time with his wife.

Every tale seems to adhere to the same formula. Ssazsha attempts some banal task which is commonly delegated to surfacer females and either fails spectacularly or succeeds through blind luck, then reports the lesson she has learned to her masters. In one episode, she tries her hand at baking a cake - some sort of sweet surfacer confection - but accidentally uses salt in place of sugar for the recipe. In another, she tries to wash her husband's clothing, but through her ineptitude all of Stedd's laundry is somehow dyed pink.
>>
>>5556871
No matter the chore, no matter the blunder, Ssazsha is fully committed to being Stedd's significant other. They shower one another with simple shows of affection, or at least what you believe to be surfacer shows of affection. The book seems to imply that there is some significance to the act of holding hands in a certain way? Humans are so peculiar.

All-in-all, this work seems to be some bizarre amalgam of the 'romance' and 'comedy' genres, though you did not find this quaint surfacer humor particularly amusing. Why each half of the pair willingly performs slave labor for their counterpart and somehow enjoys it atop that confounds you. And, unlike the stories you have read prior, these seem to be more grounded portrayals of a common surface-dweller's day-to-day live.

Your verdict?
>Is there truly such great joy to be found in holding hands and baking cakes? Not that I am interested in such things, ho ho...
>Another fascinating look into the human psyche. These surface tales never fail to intrigue me with their exoticism.
>It was a good way to pass the time. Nothing more, nothing less.
>Too insipid for my taste. Here's to hoping the next book I read is more vibrant and entertaining.
>Oooh, this saccharine garbage is making my stomach ache...
>>
>>5556875
>>Is there truly such great joy to be found in holding hands and baking cakes? Not that I am interested in such things, ho ho...
>>Another fascinating look into the human psyche. These surface tales never fail to intrigue me with their exoticism.
>I wonder what an actual Yuan-Ti would think about stories like these, based on one of them... I have a feeling they would have some issues with their portrayal.
>>
>>5556875
>Is there truly such great joy to be found in holding hands and baking cakes? Not that I am interested in such things, ho ho...
>Another fascinating look into the human psyche. These surface tales never fail to intrigue me with their exoticism.
>>
>>5556875
>Too insipid for my taste. Here's to hoping the next book I read is more vibrant and entertaining.
>The spycraft displayed was too nonsensical, the displays of affection not violent at all and all in all the storyline lacked focus.
>I rate it a 4/5
>>
>>5556875
>Too insipid for my taste. Here's to hoping the next book I read is more vibrant and entertaining.
>The spycraft displayed was too nonsensical, the displays of affection not violent at all and all in all the storyline lacked focus.
What kind of weirdo would write a silly love story about some gross snake-woman, anyway?
>>
>>5556875
>>Is there truly such great joy to be found in holding hands and baking cakes? Not that I am interested in such things, ho ho...
>>Another fascinating look into the human psyche. These surface tales never fail to intrigue me with their exoticism.
>>
>>5556875
>Another fascinating look into the human psyche. These surface tales never fail to intrigue me with their exoticism.
>The spycraft displayed was too nonsensical, the displays of affection not violent at all and all in all the storyline lacked focus.

Would actually read tho
>>
>>5556875
>Is there truly such great joy to be found in holding hands and baking cakes? Not that I am interested in such things, ho ho...
>Another fascinating look into the human psyche. These surface tales never fail to intrigue me with their exoticism.
>>
Vote closed.
>>
>>5556936
>>5556959
>>5557039
>>5557158
>>5557315
>>5557818
>>5558017
A lingering feeling of dissatisfaction overtakes you. You find yourself wondering if there could have been more to the book, and if so, what. The stories lacked direction, for one, and though a work of fiction it may be, you determine that there was an element of believability absent from these tales which would have made them more engaging.

Holding hands and locking fingers together, gently running a hand through someone's hair... what is the point of this? If one of your lovers ever tried to throw their arms around you, it would assuredly be to bury a dagger in your back, and you know that you would do the same. No, you can soundly say that you will never willingly subject yourself to lowly slave labor such as baking, and have absolutely no interest whatsoever in passionately locking lips with another individual. The mere thought is so unrealistic as to be laughable! Ho ho!

After enjoying a sensible chuckle, you slam the book shut and place it on the nearby stand, allowing a yawn to escape from your throat unimpeded. Your body finally surrenders to fatigue, and you soon find your mind departing from the waking world. What little light finds its way into this dwarven fortress is shunted from your awareness as your eyelids grow heavy and shut, leaving you in darkness.

And you dream of...
>Vierna, my elder sister. I have always hated her.
>Memories of war, which haunt me to this very day.
>My training, and how I became the woman I am now.
>Mother. It seems impossible to put her out of my mind.
>>
>>5560652
>Mother. It seems impossible to put her out of my mind.
Also, cake is somehow involved in the dream. Or at least a thing that Jez assumes could be a cake.
>>
>>5560652
>My training, and how I became the woman I am now.

Where is the Tatherin option. I need Jez to dream about holding hands and hugging

>Surrendering to impulse, you straddle him and forcefully press your bosom to his face. "I may have a few new ideas already."
So, Jez did all this without hugging?
>>
>>5560652
>Mother. It seems impossible to put her out of my mind.

>>5560656
.....Christmas cake?
>>
>>5560664
Maybe I'm at fault for not being clear, but Jez distinguishes a "hug" as a benign squeeze to show affection instead of grabbing someone to make them do what you want.
>>
>>5560652
>>Mother. It seems impossible to put her out of my mind.
>>
>>5560652
>Mother. It seems impossible to put her out of my mind.
>>
>>5560652
>>My training, and how I became the woman I am now
>>
Vote closed.
>>
>>5560656
>>5560664
>>5560693
>>5560833
>>5560847
>>5561244
"Jezyrene."

Your muscles become tense as the cold, biting voice of Mother deeply pierces your heart, as though she could fashion mere words into ice daggers. Sitting rigidly on a long chair in the lair of this creature, you fidget timidly as you do everything in your power to avoid looking her in the eye. The lavish tapestries of human leather and paintings depicting elaborate scenes of dismemberment distinguish this as the best in the manor, fitting for the matriarch of House Delyl.

But you can tell that the monster towering over you from five paces away bears only a superficial resemblance to a woman. Even as an adult recognized for your weapon mastery, you understand that you are right to fear her. She recognizes this - and feels no need to raise her voice at you, smoothly verbalizing her disappointment. "I spat you out from my crotch and saw to it that you were fed, clothed, and safe. I had you tutored by the strongest priestess at my command. I forgave your lack of talent and allowed you to command my warriors."

Dignified, even in anger, she leans herself against a laboriously detailed statue depicting a weeping human mother and her infant child impaled together on a steel spike. Sneering, she looks down upon you and wets her lips. "So explain to me how you managed to fuck up so spectacularly."
>>
>>5563557
"Mother, I..." a bead of sweat runs down the side of your face. You have explained this to her ad nauseum, to the point that your throat is hoarse from doing so. She had committed the whole of the House's resources to a blatantly insane errand, and paid the price. Half of your manpower and most of the coffers gone, all given to secure the useless relic of a surface-dweller god that has become the object of her obsession. It is sometimes said that those who contemplate the mysteries of Lolth inevitably go mad, and none doubt that her derangement has been getting worse in recent years, though-

"Answer me, Jezyrene," she orders. "Can you even fathom how much we have lost because of you?" Mother's domineering presence interrupts your thoughts. Already, you know that no answer that you can provide will satisfy her, and the consequences of any action you take will be dire. Goddess willing, you will somehow come out on the other side of this with nothing more than new scars and a few crippled limbs, provided you aren't killed.

You need to act quickly.
>I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.
>Taking the blame is the wisest course. Placating her at the cost of my pride may yet spare me from a worse punishment.
>[Spit at her.]
>If I choose my word carefully, I can deflect some of the blame onto my siblings. This is undoubtedly the best course.
>[Write-in.]
>>
>>5563563
>I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.
>>
Is it just me or do posts in this thread not bring it to the front page / we're already on the lasteish page of the catalog?

Anyway, with that warning said

>My sisters have already poisoned the well, if it were not already poisoned. She's too far gone. It is her madness and her incompetence that has brought this defeat on us, and doomed me. I intend to tell her so - the shock just might give me an opportunity to cut my way out
Or you know, give her a heart attack

So basicly a variant on >I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.
>>
>>5563563
>I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.
>>
>>5563563
>I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.

Well, time to see more torture sessions with Jez
>>
>>5563579
>>5563575
Supporting.

>>5563563
>>
>>5563563
>I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.
>Also, since you are no doubt going to forgo the acid hose and skip straight ahead to giving me an acid bath after this, I'm fucking your newest consort.
>And your entire male harem. Ilythiiri and otherwise.
>>
>>5563563
>>If I choose my word carefully, I can deflect some of the blame onto my siblings. This is undoubtedly the best course.
>>
>>5563563
>>I am a girl no longer, and I intend to tell her the entire truth of her mistakes, of her worsening madness. Loudly.
>>
As I am only partially done with the next update, the adventure will continue in the next thread.
>>
>>5564497
Thanks for running, QM!



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