"Let's speak plainly, Lord Voslil. You speak what you believe to be truth, and we must trust in your belief, and your power. Eviana, Kaerishiel and the Shin'Rakorath would not enlist a charlatan, but you have not demonstrated this new transformation to them already, have you? In this, we are all ignorant. So we must trust. If we submit, I'm glad you'll learn how to better the magic, at least."
Lief turns from Giseil, to his mates. "I can't say that I'm not intrigued by this mission. Firsthand perspective within the drow culture, from what little we've learned already... this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I'm simply worried that the lifetime of which I speak is a short one."
"Is this great or what?"Lief stoppers a vial, and closes a tap on a titer, then looks up at Dimitrio. "I thought you wanted nothing but to return to the Goblin. You're committing to a journey that could last for weeks, with no clear way home, only the promise of an elf who likely never visited Zirnakaynin herself that there are ways to the surface, most likely. And you're ready to delay your return to Riddleport for this new danger. Do I understand you correctly?" The young man looks at the dancer with honest inquiry, wondering if his companion has further words of encouragement.
"As for incorporating nobility into our cover stories, that sounds risky. It'd attract undue attention, is my guess. I suppose we'll learn more in the week to come."
Dimitrio looks at Lief, not quite understanding. "One thing was to just fight a war. I figure I'm not particularly suited for that. There are plenty of soliders out there better than me. Quite another is to be asked to try out experimental magic and be deemed good enough to represent the elven people. To explore an unknown world."
He added, "The Goblin will be there. And if not that place, I'll find another place to dance. I have before. However, I don't think I will ever have a chance to do something like what is being offered here and now."
He looks certain, "I'm sorry if you don't understand and I understand your doubts but I AM IN."
Dimitrio somehow thought that his essence would be transferred to another body and his body would remain 'resting'. Wearing a dead drow's skin did not appeal to him too much.
He recounted what he understood, "So we wear their skins but also gain all their physical abilities. Did I understand correctly that we will NOT be exactly as the dead drow so those that knew them well will not recognize us?"
He thought for a moment, "If that is so, then it could work to our advantage."
Thinking back to the whole process, "So can this magic be dispelled? Will some magic make our drow skin just sort of melt away? Leaving us in our own bodies..."
In spite of all the doubts, the bard was still very much convinced that this was something he wanted to do.
Thinking back to the whole process, "So can this magic be dispelled? Will some magic make our drow skin just sort of melt away? Leaving us in our own bodies..."
"Nothing like a simple dispel will work. An antimagic field might sever the link to the amulet, in which case you still have a short time to get out of it before the spell actually fails. It would take a mages disjunction or wish to remove the magical weave fully."
Lord Voslil stands, and you realize you didn’t notice when he sat down. He hands each of you a bloodlink. ”Keep these close.” Once he has handed them out he continues, ”I can transform one of you now, two tomorrow, and two the day after.” he turns to Kaerishiel, ”Unless anyone else is going?” Kaerishiel shakes his head, though he hesitates.
Kaerishiel looks guilty as Lord Voslil looks back to the party. ”So who’s first?” He glances at Dimitrio casually.
"So, who's first?"
Kaylayne backs away.
"Oh no, not today. We still have preparations to make. This puts on a clock. We need to prepare now that we know what we've been asked to do," Kaylayne says, still needing time to both think and prepare.
"I'm not rushing into this. I'll do it, but want to do it right."
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Tarkir slowly nudges the unconcious Allarnon towards the crazed necromancer. Using his large furry snout the bear hooks it under Allarnon's arm and rolls him before Lord Voslil.
With the grungy man volunteered before the necromancer Tarkir sits back on his haunches and begins to lick himself clean once again.
Allarnon begins to murmur a bit but doesn't seem to wake. "Puts... the lotion on it's skin........"
Lief hears the next course of action, sees Giseil turn to Dimitrio, and waits, curious to see someone else endure this magical cloaking before he himself undergoes the procedure.
If Dimitrio declines to go first, Lief will step up, and participate.
"So, who's first?"Kaylayne backs away.
"Oh no, not today. We still have preparations to make. This puts on a clock. We need to prepare now that we know what we've been asked to do," Kaylayne says, still needing time to both think and prepare.
"I'm not rushing into this. I'll do it, but want to do it right."
Eviana responds, "We are already on a clock. The drow are pushing back against the gate and we're losing troops while you prepare. Please do not hesitate or delay." she pleads, a little eagerly.
The lord mage adds, "It takes time to get used to your new form. You don't want to look awkward in front of the other drow."
He considers Tarkir's offer of his master, but delays to see if others, with a voice, will step up first.
Kaylayne gets her back up at the hard sell from the elves.
"Well, I'm happy to do this but I won't be rushed. I won't go unprepared into this. If you have another team you'd rather send, then do that. I'll stay on and help guard the gate. I'll do what I can," Kaylayne says, still needing more time to get used to the extreme idea planted before them.
"I've heard of tattoos that carry magic, and allow priests to never fear of losing their divine focus."
Ederin slaps his forehead as he hears Lief mention this and, after some digging in his bag, withdraws his Needles of Fleshgraving. "Like these! Will the magic still work if we turn the amulets into tattoos? It would make 'em easier to protect, make me a lot more comfortable with this plan."
He looks around when they ask for volunteers, and shrugs. "I ain't gonna be the first one to try, but yeah, if you can do it right now, I'll give it a shot, seein' how it works will help me decide if I think you're crazy or not."
He looks around when they ask for volunteers, and shrugs. "I ain't gonna be the first one to try, but yeah, if you can do it right now, I'll give it a shot, seein' how it works will help me decide if I think you're crazy or not."
Dimitrio steps in front of Ederin, "Shorty, you can't just try it because no one else wants to. You have to want to do it. And I want to do it."
He looks at the elven wizard and stoically says, "I am ready to try this. Hopefully, it will be Ok but we can adjust as necessary."
He can hardly contain his excitement, "However, I want to have a young handsome drow skin to wear. Will I still have my privileged physique?"
He looks at the elven wizard and stoically says, "I am ready to try this. Hopefully, it will be Ok but we can adjust as necessary."
Kaylayne shakes her head. They never listen. Or maybe they never hear.
"Can't you wait until we prepare more? We only just learnt was is going on and there is a time limit to the magic. Don't you want to be more...thoughtful?" Kaylayne iterates.
"'More thoughtful'? You want to deride Dimitrio for not having thought enough?" Lief turns to Kaylayne, considering his next words. "You keep talking about time to prepare. How much time? Make yourself clear. What else should we consider? You've already committed to going, so unless you're having second thoughts, state your need, so we can weigh it against the loss of troops holding the gate."
"Shorty, you can't just try it because no one else wants to. You have to want to do it. And I want to do it."
"What the hell are you goin' on about Carini? Try listenin' to something other than what comes out of your own mouth and maybe you'd understand what I just said." Ederin rolls his eyes and looks back to the elves while Kaylayne voices her concerns.
"I want to see this spell for my own eyes yeah? If I'm convinced that whoever goes first can pass for a drow, then I'll do it tomorrow and I'll step through that gate to the drow city when we're done preparin'."
Turning back to Kaylayne he raises an eyebrow and speaks delicately. "What are you unprepared for exactly? Turning into a drow, or steppin' through the gate, because that second bit ain't happenin' until we all say we're good and comfortable in our new skins." He grimaces at the last word. "Like the mage said -One transformation today, two tomorrow, and two the day after that, so if you go last you got two days before they transform you. Is that enough time for you?"
Lord Voslil begins to walk with Dimitrio into the other chamber, but hesitates when the party discusses a possible delay. It's clear he's ready to go anytime, but is not going to push anyone into it.
He waits patiently while the group hashes out their plan.
Speaks delicately. "What are you unprepared for exactly? Turning into a drow, or steppin' through the gate, because that second bit ain't happenin' until we all say we're good and comfortable in our new skins. Like the mage said -One transformation today, two tomorrow, and two the day after that, so if you go last you got two days before they transform you. Is that enough time for you?"
Kaylayne ignores the voluminous questions and rapid fire statements from Lief to answer the delicately spoken questions from Ederin.
"No, I'm still in. I just need some time to adjust. I didn't walk here this morning thinking that I'd walk away and not be myself. I've just spent a lot of time with the spiritualist trying to *accept* myself as I am...now I'm being forced to change so quickly," Kaylayne replies. "I don't expect you to understand, but I need some time. Two days might work. And then a few days to get used to me after I get used to you guys being the new you guys."
Kaylayne looks at Allarnon to see what the man feels.
"Besides, if there is a rush, you guys can go without me. Or I can go help guard the gate, whatever. I'm not ready yet. I need to enjoy being me for a while."
When everyone excepting Kaylayne (for now) goes through the process over the next couple days you’re surprised to find it’s painless, but the sensation of crawling skin as the flesh of a deceased drow subsumes into you is unusual to say the least. Really quite inexplicable.
When it’s done you have some balance issues at first. And reach, as your arms aren’t quite the same length - nor are your legs. In fact it takes a few hours of solid sweaty work to get used to your new forms, but you do in time - though there’s always a feeling of otherness to your body that’s hard to shake. Even Allarnon, who is accustomed to taking other forms has some trouble with it.
You are given very white robes to wear at all times so that none of the army attacks you by mistake as rogues in their camp. You’ll leave those behind of course but they do the job of protecting you from the forces of good for now.
It’s amazing the degree to which your perspective changes when walking around as drow. The elves can’t help but to leer at you - often hostilely - in that instant before they ‘recognize’ you. And for your part, you see those around you with less empathy than perhaps you did before. Not to say you’ve become evil. Simply that you can see it from here - in all its unbridled power and freedom.
Tarkir in particular is displeased though he senses something of Allarnon in his new form - enough anyway to abide by his commands.
Lief allows Dimitrio to take the first day's casting, preferring to visit Wynd, and reassure the horse of his continued presence in camp. When he returns the next day to receive his 'gift', he studies every little change he can detect with his senses, as they expand in some ways, and constrict in others.
Lief spends his first day as Lief-as-drow. He works the skin with his fingertips, cautiously, trying to imagine what it would feel like to an actual drow, as he's unable to separate his sensation from his own nerve endings. He tries to stay out of the common areas, preferring not to look clumsy or silly for his exaggerated movements, and vocalizations. He can actually hear his voice take on a more strident tone, something new, and not altogether off-putting. For his introductory instructions, he's still a little vexed that as male, he's considered subordinate in this new drow role. He begins to make himself comfortable in his new skin.
He spends his second day as Icharys, beginning to solidify his backstory and mannerisms, at a leisurely pace. Suddenly, he's not so preoccupied with the elven casualties at the Gate. It is what it is. A necessity. Leverage, to facilitate what needs to be done to ensure his safety, and success. Every once and awhile, he takes out his Light, and subjects his new sight to its strength. He marks the debilitation well, noting where it may come in handy, once they cross over.
He waits to see the others, as they pass through the same Veil.
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Allarnon awakens from his vast transformation and looks about with his strange new eyes when he yells in a new higher pitched voice.
"THE BASTARDS COULD SEE IN THE DARK?!?!?!"
After several moments he finally calms himself and Tarkir down, as the bear initially tried to maul him to death. It only took an entangle spell to tie Tark up in a mass of weeds and a few moments of Allarnon speaking with the bear in its own tongue for Tarkir to realize that it worked.
Not exactly knowing what to call himself the elves give him a new name of Adin. They tell him it means beast, monstrous or savage in his tongue. He spends the next week watching all of the movements and mannerisms that he can to try and get his part down. The most difficult part is going to be keeping his anger from getting the best of him as he knows little about drow society having only just meet their race a few weeks ago.
Within the week Allarnon goes to check on his armor to see if it is ready for this trip. On his way over he thinks back on how this looks nothing like drow skin draped over his own.
Lief's blood quickens, as he debates 'helping' Allarnon with more poison. He almost feels regret when the drow named Adin accomplishes the subdual without further violence.
"They seem well-suited to the dark, yes. I'm presuming their world is much like the shadow realm of the Echo, but that may be too much to hope for."
Lief works his way over to Ederin? Yes, that's Ederin. So strange, trying to remember the old names with the new faces. "So, should we wait to use your Needles, or embed our Amulets right away?"
He looks down on his forearm, and regrets again, when his tattoo is no longer visible.
Dimitrio was pleasantly surprised with the transformation. He slowly but surely learned to adjust his body to the rigors of fighting, sparring, and, of course, dancing.
That was something he needed to learn. What type of dancing did the drow practice? In the next days he would learn that and much more but for now it was enough to note that he could see in the dark. The fact that he was resistant to magic and posion was a welcomed perk.
He danced some and shadow fenced a bit, "Well, what do you all think?"
He quickly added, "And a name. I need a name for a dashing young drow swashbuckler..."
"Hmph."
Ederin frowned as another arrows missed it's mark. He ran too-long fingers over his too-long arms, noting the smoothness that his own scarred human arms had lacked.
"Once more then." He muttered in Undercommon as he drew the bow again. He spoke the language almost instinctively, as though he'd been communicating that way all his life, it was the only thing that had come easily in this new form. Oddly enough door frames had been the worst.
A lifetime of short stature was suddenly challenged and he could only imagine how unrefined he looked ducking through every building entrance for fear of hitting his head. The speed with which he covered ground on his now too-long legs only amplified the feeling of an impending concussion.
This time the arrow stuck in the side of the tree, Ederin still frowned. The dull sound of an arrow hitting bark was not nearly as satisfying as the sound of pierced flesh. The wide-eyed look of his foe as they fell lifeless to his precise aim.
Stop! He shouted from within his own head. You're no drow. Not truely. Even his thoughts were in undercommon now.
Lifting his whitehood over his dark face, the human/drow made his way through the elf camp, reminding himself not to return their sneers with his own. Eventually he found Kaylayne and sat beside her on the ground so her face would look the same. The new higher angle his drow form provided was still strange to him.
Clearing his throat Ederin tried again in common, the language feeling clunky on his smooth new lips.
"Kay, I was thinkin' you might be able to help me with somethin' yeah?" He sneered a moment, disgusted at the sound of his own voice. Is this how I've always sounded?
"I was rememberin' that time you made Garry that little wooden' thing, right? Was hopin' maybe you could make one for me, thought it might help as a reminder when we're below the surface." He shifts awkwardly trying to simultaneously look at her and avoid her gaze. "Was thinkin' maybe like, some kind o' hawk. Back in Riddleport I had this vision jus' before I learnt to cast magic and there was this hawk guidin' me. Was thinkin' maybe it could be somethin' like that, if you don't mind anyway." He starts to rub the back of his head, then stops. An old gesture for a different form. He stays long enough to hear her reply, then wanders off to practice being a drow again.
When Lief finds him later in the week he discovers that his drow persona is just as likely as his human one to grip the nearest weapon at the unexpected sight of a dark skinned elf. He relaxes when he remembers Leif is his ally, then responds in undercommon.
"The magic within the needles will only work for seven days, and only once a day. I don't know what sort of welcome we are like to receive, so I think it best to wait until the days leading up to our departure. It will give us the largest window to plan for when I must re-apply them. Consider where you want it placed carefully. If it re materializes and falls off mid combat or while speaking with another of us, another drow that is, and then we will be discovered."
When everyone excepting Kaylayne (for now) goes through the process over the next couple days you’re surprised to find it’s painless, but the sensation of crawling skin as the flesh of a deceased drow subsumes into you is unusual to say the least. Really quite inexplicable.
Kaylayne take the next few days working on her headband, then on her cloak as she watches the results of the transformations of her comrades-in-darkness.
She keeps to herself, watching their changes from afar, marking every strain and every unhappiness. She uses the time to reflect on her true self and her Other Self, marked by her internal light.
Will I be the same? Will *she* be the same? What will become of me? Of us?
She notes with keen interest the changes to Tarkir and the relationship with his 'master'. On day two, she puts down her craftery and approaches Drowanon (aka Allarnon). "Allarnon? That is still your name, yes? Might I ask you a question? I have not yet changed...but note some changes in your Tarkir? Are you strained? Is he? What...what do you feel?" Kaylayne leans in to listen to the big man's words.
"Do you feel it is because of this change? Or that you so violently reacted to the wine?"
"Undergrumblings."
Kaylayne tries to hide her starle behind a gasp and setting down her craftery.
"Kay, I was thinkin' you might be able to help me with somethin' yeah?"
She takes a moment to breathe and study her work as she recovers from Drowderin's approach. She was too focused to feel his darkness entering her sight.
"What? Wait! Did I just understand you? Weird...hmm..." Kaylayne pauses, trying to figure something out, then shakes her head. She waits asks Drowderin to repeat his request, this time able to take it in.
"A hawk? A wooden hawk?" Kaylayne's normal human nose scrunches up in thought. "I remember the cup I made Garridan. I do. That was a cup of power. Of remembrance. Of return. You...you wish one like it?" Kaylayne frowns, looking at her cloak.
"Yes. Of course. I can do that. It might take a while...and requires some magical reagents as well. But I can do this for you. A hawk, huh? Hmmph...I've never done that fetish before. I shall. In the meantime, take this..."
Kaylayne removes a wooden butterfly fetish from her body and offers it to Ederin. Hold onto this and see if it is what you want while I work on the hawk.
"If you want the hawk, it will cost about 500gp. I'm afraid that I don't have the coins to cover that after I purchased what I thought might be necessary for our trip." Kaylayne says, now fully recovered from her scare.
She sniffs, then breathes in.
"Tell me...does the change affect you much? Are you the same you? Are you different? Does darkness fill your heart?" Kaylayne seems worried about the transformation and is still deciding whether she can do it.
"Allarnon? That is still your name, yes? Might I ask you a question? I have not yet changed...but note some changes in your Tarkir? Are you strained? Is he? What...what do you feel?"
Allarnon sits to relax, Tarkir a small ways behind him, still a little unsure.
"I feel the same inside......Though the elves look at me as they did my first day arriving here. With distrust and contempt." He looks over at Tarkir and makes a few guttural growls.
"I have a way of speaking with him. My people are taught to speak with many animals before I left. With my scent being different he did not trust his sight and attacked me. If I was not able to confine him and explain the situation I don't know what would have happened."
He grimaces. "I think it would be a good idea before we leave if Allarnon smells each of you so that he will be able to tell the difference while we are down there. If he will be able to see down there at all."
That was something he needed to learn. What type of dancing did the drow practice? In the next days he would learn that and much more but for now it was enough to note that he could see in the dark. The fact that he was resistant to magic and posion was a welcomed perk.
One of Dimitrio's scholars laughs aloud, something that hasn't been happening as much around you since the change. "Drow don't dance." he says definitively and he moves on to the next topic dismissively.
Meanwhile, the days wear on and the training continues.
You learn about drow hierarchies, the warring families of drow nobility and the fairly rigid caste system. It is possible to move between strata, but it’s difficult. You learn about drow cuisine - lots of mushrooms (with a dizzying number of different tastes and textures), lizards and other subterranean crustaceans.
Foremost among the races of Sekamina (the strata of the underdark where drow are found) are undoubtedly the wicked and twisted drow. Since their flight from the surface millennia ago, their skin and hearts have become as dark as the stygian depths in which they dwell. Yet despite the paranoia of many surface dwelling scholars, the dark elves do not seek to return to the surface - they are content to weave their complex plans and live their decadent lives in the comfort of Sekhamina, the world they have already all but conquered.
This is not to say that the surface has nothing to fear from the drow - far from it. The dark elves still seethe with an ancient hatred for the elves above for what they view as an abandonment, and against humanity for the belief that they caused Earthfall in the first place. To the drow, the uplander races are fit only for slavery, and the fact that they function so poorly in the dark makes them unsatisfactory slaves indeed.
The drow empire spans much of central Avistan, from Varisia east to Razmiran and from the Worldwound south to the northernmost reaches of Andoran. Theirs is easily the largest empire in all the Darklands, but not a single day passes without the need to defend this empire from their enemies. They maintain an uneasy truce with the duergar nation above, but in Sekamina the drow are at constant war with the ghouls, the skum, the svirfneblin, the seugathi, and the gugs - all races whose own lands border the drow empire, all races who look upon the drow position of power with envious eyes. And of course, their greatest enemies lie in Orv (a lower level of the underdark) below; the neothelids, the urdefhans, the intellect devourers, and the few remaining aboleth puppet masters of the Sightless Sea.
The drow are a people founded on cruelty and sin. Their pantheon of gods are a collection of a dozen demon lords. They are a matriarchal society, where men are seen as second class citizens at best or slaves at worst. Drow society is ruled by twelve Great Houses, each constantly seeking to ever expand their holdings and influence at each others’ expense, each believing themselves to be the ones best qualified to lead the nation as a whole, and each ruled by a matron of incredible power.
As a result, the greatest enemy the drow empire faces is itself, and for the past several thousand years, the drow have balanced precariously on the edge of a devastating civil war. Only the constant threat of the enemies that surround them keep the Great Houses from declaring open war upon each other. Instead, they wage a war of politics and secret betrayals, of false alliances and complex machinations. Each House has something important to provide to drow society, and each House has pledged to defend the nation from their enemies without, yet this never-ending shadow war serves well to keep any one House from seizing enough control to dominate the others. It is a precarious but serviceable balance, and the drow have grown quite fond of it over the ages.
Lief raises his hand quickly, and often, seeking more clarification on the finer lines of stratification within the male gender and female gender, on the geography of the Underdark , on common double entendres and their multiple subtexts, on the strength rankings of the Houses, on the strengths and weaknesses of skum, svirfneblin, seugathi, gug, neothelids, urdefhans, intellect devourers, and aboleths. He pauses out of courtesy, but quietly goads the scholars to impart their wisdom at a faster clip, feeling a small irritation that his drow brethren seem slow to pick up even the more basic tenets of drow culture.
"With the level of paranoia the drow are practically born into, how do they guard themselves against more invasive magics? I might be secure in my ability to convey a falsehood, but there are magics that can pierce one's facade, to glean surface thoughts, and true intentions, aren't there? Of course there are, so wouldn't it be practical to equip us with magics that will shield our minds from such psychic attacks? The drow are a loathe people for their manipulations, but they are to be equally respected for it, too."
...
Lief hunts Kaylayne down, remembering the girl's ability with crafting magics. "Kaylayne, if I may. A word. You've been a busy bee, weaving your new webs of magical items. What kind of time do you have for crafting for the rest of us? Are you using the rest of your time before departure crafting only for yourself?"
"With the level of paranoia the drow are practically born into, how do they guard themselves against more invasive magics? I might be secure in my ability to convey a falsehood, but there are magics that can pierce one's facade, to glean surface thoughts, and true intentions, aren't there? Of course there are, so wouldn't it be practical to equip us with magics that will shield our minds from such psychic attacks? The drow are a loathe people for their manipulations, but they are to be equally respected for it, too."
"Yes..." one of the elves drawls, "Such magics are possible. You could get various spells to guard against such things. Probably a good idea too if you can afford it."
"Remember though, not all drow are spell casters, just as not all elves are. Most will be warriors of one sort or another."
"I feel the same inside......Though the elves look at me as they did my first day arriving here. With distrust and contempt." He looks over at Tarkir and makes a few guttural growls.
Kaylayne listens and nods to Allarnon's words, then goes over to Tarkir to explain the situation to him using her own words. She allows the bear to smell her again, as she explains that she'll be different, yet the same *if* she changes and that Kaylayne will still try to protect both the bear and Allarnon no matter what.
She hopes the bear understands. She's not sure she does yet.
* * *
Lethe hunts Kaylayne down, remembering the girl's ability with crafting magics. "Kaylayne, if I may. A word. You've been a busy bee, weaving your new webs of magical items. What kind of time do you have for crafting for the rest of us? Are you using the rest of your time before departure crafting only for yourself?"
At the sound of Lethe's voice, Kaylayne braces herself an onslaught, but is pleasantly surprised when nothing terse comes out of Lethe's mouth. She looks down at the headband she is putting the final touches on and then at Lethe.
"Yes. You've noticed correctly," Kaylayne says in her normal human voice, noting the change in Lethe's as well. "Time? I think we have some time. Not sure when we'll be leaving here. There is much to learn and I have yet to commit to the change. What did you need made? Ederin has made a request as well," Kaylayne replies. One of her wooden butterfly fetishes is missing. "I have given him one of mine until I can create a personal one for him. I have some alterations I wish to make to my cloak as well, but I'm happy to see what I can do for you."
Eviana meets privately with Allarnon in the afternoon. A page summons Allarnon, and Tarkir, to her tent.
”My dear Allarnon, Kaerishiel pointed out that we were uneven in our gifts to you and yours. Tarkir here risked his life just as surely as the rest of you, and yet was not embraced as you were on returning. Just because the great bear is less intelligent than we are is no reason to be dismissive of his accomplishments.”
”For that I apologize and try now to make amends.”
She takes out a small, thin silver box and hands it to you, ”For Tarkir.”
Inside is a beautifully darkened silver amulet on a simple silver chain with a large black semi-precious stone set in the center.
”It is very expensive, so it is granted to you only for the duration of your time in the underdark. Please return it when you do, but there is no rush. The noble who’s parting with it is an ardent supporter of our cause here.”
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"Tell me...does the change affect you much? Are you the same you? Are you different? Does darkness fill your heart?" Kaylayne seems worried about the transformation and is still deciding whether she can do it.
Ederin thinks for a while as he counts out coins to give Kaylayne, frowning the whole time.
"I don't feel like me, but I think I will." He starts. "It's kinda like, realizin' you ain't the little dogbiter you used to be. You used to like to play in puddles but now you don't wanna get your boots wet. Still the same person, but you got different priorities, right? I still like shootin' my bow, and I still like wanderin' the woods and drinkin' and I still feel like I can take anyone in a fight, but I ain't so keen on laughing anymore. Like maybe I don't have the time for it." He shrugs.
"That's the best answer I got for ya Kay, I hope it's what you were lookin' for."
As the lessons continue Ederin becomes more and more convinced that he's suited for the task ahead. The constant power plays, constant threat of betrayal and unhinged desire for power at all costs are almost a comfortable subject.
The names of the beasts and other creatures are new and strange, and he asks for as many descriptions as the elves can give, trying to store the information for later, preparing for every potential fight.
Drow engage in many different pastimes, not all of which are decadence or the hedonistic pursuit of pleasure (although these do remain favorites). Sporecrafting (the art of growing and transforming fungus), lithicrafting (the art of shaping stone), coldwarping (a magical method of forging and smelting metal), and fleshwarping (the vile art of transforming the flesh through torture, surgery, and alchemy - even poison) are all popular pursuits. Yet the primary and greatest pursuit for most drow is the art of violence.
In most drow cities, the houses send their best and finest warriors to martial training and mustering groups known simply
as the Fighting Society. Drow of all houses come here as youths to train and prepare for the inevitable day that they will be called upon to kill. Many drow, especially nobles, stay only for training before returning to their houses to carry on more specialized training with their own house weapon masters, priests, and arcanists. A portion, however, stay on with the Fighting Society, forever foreswearing allegiance to house and patron demons to become a permanent member of the society.
The society brooks no warfare between its members and gives devotion to the entire pantheon of the drow’s demonic patrons. The Fighting Society’s creed is purity of race and clarity of purpose; no enemy will survive their cleansing vengeance or prevent them from attaining their ultimate victory. The ranks of officers are usually pulled from the female drow, who hold authority over the male rank-and-file.
Beyond warfare and their artistic pursuits, life among the drow is very much a question of where one falls in social class. Although the drow themselves are capricious and prone to fits of pique and unpredictable mood swings, as a race their lengthy dominance over Sekamina has bred into their society an almost cloying level of decadence in tradition, resulting ironically in a relatively stable caste system. The Great Houses rule over all, of course, but the majority of drow belong to no noble clan. These are the soldiers, the prostitutes, the crafters, the servants, and the aimless.
Among these drow, it is violence and might, seduction and guile that earn the right to survive. The denizens of one drow home can change a dozen times over the course of a year, as can the makeup of entire families as members are adopted, exiled, or murdered.
Those who visit a drow city find the place often just shy of full-blown anarchy; a riot in the streets of a drow city is in a way analogous to a busy day at market in saner cities. Laws exist in drow society, yet they are transient things prone to transformation or neglect - the only true constant in drow society is the 12 Great Houses. All drow aspire to these 12 icons - for to be accepted into the graces of one of the houses is to escape the madness and violence of the city street itself.
The part about no dancing somewhat saddened the bard but the fighting schools somewhat made up for it.
Somehow, he knew that being a graduate from one of these fighting schools would make sense for his disguise so he asked about a fighting school hat specialized in rapiers, which given the drow predilection for the blade should not be too difficult to find.
He hoped to learn fighting moves that could somehow be made into a dance, a deadly dance.
Once everyone had gathered around, including their instructors, he asked, "So what will be our cover? What do you think would raise the least suspicions and still allow us to gather the necessary information?"
He later asked, "Could all this information somehow be written down in some form so we can consult it when needed? know Lief probably memorized all of this but I may need some extra help."
"That's the best answer I got for ya Kay, I hope it's what you were lookin' for."
It wasn't the happiness, sunshine, and puppies answer that Kaylayne was hoping for, but Kaylayne appreciates the man's honesty. She nods and accepts it for the truths that are offered.
"Well, yeah. That sounds perfectly right," Kaylayne says in return. "And I guess it's my time to get it done."
Kaylayne sighs and will get transformed on the morrow's morn, taking tonight to think about her true self, her other self, and make vows to stay true to them both regardless of what she looks like.
"Yeah, tomorrow, Ederin. Tomorrow, I'll change. I guess."
"Yeah, tomorrow, Ederin. Tomorrow, I'll change. I guess."
Ederin sets aside the neccesary coin for his commission and, in a moth strange to both human and drow forms, pats her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before sighing and stalking back into the woods to enjoy some time alone before their next lesson.
He finds himself interested in the Fighting Society, wishing there had been something similar in Riddleport while growing up. A place to display his obviously superior talents with a bow.
"Could all this information somehow be written down in some form so we can consult it when needed? know Lief probably memorized all of this but I may need some extra help."
"You could write it down yourself. Don't bring it with us underground though. Might get us in trouble."
Allarnon's head begins to get dizzy from all of the new information concerning the drow. "This city sounds big....and busy. I have never been to anything that big outside of my village before."
Tarkir sighs as he lays back down as Kaylayne speaks to him, not understanding a word she is saying. Allarnon laughs. "It is ok. It took me many years to learn to speak with him and I can only do it on short bursts."
Allarnon begins to growl in many different tones as he explains what Kaylayne was trying to say, patting his friend on the neck.
The crowning glory of the drow empire in Sekamina is also their greatest city - Zirnakaynin, Last Home of the Elves. Built in an enormous three tiered cavern far under Nirmathas, the metropolis of Zirnakaynin is the largest city in all the Darklands. This cavern is where the drow first settled after coming to grips with their ancient transformation, and for over 8,000 years the city has grown.
The city of Zirnakaynin is split into three distinct regions, each inhabiting a different cavern stacked one atop the other, much in the same way the three realms of the Darklands are arranged. The largest cavern is the central one - this is the densely packed heart of the city, a cavern called Cocyrdavarin: home to the city’s wealthiest and most powerful non-nobles, cruel artisans and performers, and purveyors of all manner of decadences. Above this central cave sits a much more sparsely populated region - this is the cavern Eirdrisseir, the home for Zirnakaynin’s nobility and rulers. Finally, in the depths below lie the fiery halls of Rygirnan, a hellish pit of slavery and industry.
The upper and lower caverns are generally off limits to any but the drow and their slaves, but the central reaches of Cocyrdavarin are open to trade. While the city has few laws other than what the matrons of the 12 noble houses demand, the place isn’t always in the throes of riots. Like a complex weather front, the city has its ebbs and flurries, and other races of Sekamina have long learned to predict the rough patches and try to time their visits to Zirnakaynin’s extensive markets during periods of relative quiet.
Non-drow are tolerated in the public parts of Cocyrdavarin (although elves are generally cause for an uproar or impromptu public executions), but are often treated with derision and impatience. To the drow, visitors are below slaves in terms of respect, a necessary evil they tolerate simply out of respect for the city’s leaders, who believe that every traveler or merchant who comes to Zirnakaynin to trade affords the city additional power.
Zirankaynin is a dark gem hidden in shadows. Yet, for all its imposing vistas and deadly crevasses, its twisted iron and bladed heights, the Last Home of the Elves merely reflects its residents’ ruthlessness and malice, for the city’s greatest danger is the drow themselves.
Dimitrio tried to soak up as much information as possible. The part about performers got his interest, "Performers? What type of performance? I'm not only a dancer but also have a flair for the dramatic. What type of performances are we talking about there?"
Performances fall broadly into two main categories. Presentations and Plays. Drow flock from all over to see presentations made by their top wizards, scholars, and crafters, especially fleshwarpers. They take on many forms but generally there’s a main presenter and one or two assistants. The presenter gives information about something interesting they’re doing now - often while doing it on stage to show off their craft.
They get very elaborate as you might imagine, and they are very popular.
Though less popular, plays are just as dark. Usually performed by slaves, the plays just as often involve murder, mayhem, and more crafting. The slaves are expected to carry out the actions - realism counts. So a slave might spend weeks studying a role, perfecting the nuance, fully knowing that in the main performance - they’ll be killed on stage, or turned into a drider, or worse.
Oh, I almost forgot, torture is also VERY popular, but that sort of falls in under presentations I suppose. Still, it’s so popular it deserves its own category. Really popular.
So, Dimitrio, I’m not sure what performances you lean toward, but you might want to be very careful about your selection…
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"So what will be our cover? What do you think would raise the least suspicions and still allow us to gather the necessary information?"
He later asked, "Could all this information somehow be written down in some form so we can consult it when needed?"
"You should not be asking questions like that," Kaylayne practices the undercommon tongue and prerequisite malice in answering Dimitrio's questions. "You have one job, *male*" Kaylayne focuses the scorn of her entire reality's petty annoyances into the word 'male'. "And that job is to do what I say. If anyone asks what you are doing, your only answer should be that *I* will it. Your only response need be 'Because my Mistress wishes it and it would be bad if I failed her.'" Kaylayne sneers down at the lowly male who has forgotten his place.
"If you have any problems remembering that, *male*, I'll ask that one," Kaylayne points at Allarnon and the bear, "To make sure you get your chance to perform...perform as part of the bear's dinner. I'm sure others would appreciate the chance to see you eaten alive. And you'll accomplish your dreams of performance." Kaylayne offers one more sneer, then sits back down next to Ederin. "You only need know what I tell you and do what I ask."
"How was that, Ederin? Good?" Kaylayne whispers to the drowbowman.
Dimitrio did a double take when Layne started speaking. Well, more like berating him.
He said, "OK, I... can do that. Is this how all the females will treat me? Even the non-noble ones?"
Dimitrio heart sank right back down after hearing what the performances were like. So no dancing and no plays to speak of. or plays that one could enjoy and survive for an encore.
"So, OK then no performing. I'm still interested in these fighting schools, especially those that focus on rapiers. Perhaps I can be the start of a new form of practice, one that deals with the deadly art of dancing with a blade."
"Yes. You've noticed correctly... I'm happy to see what I can do for you."
Lief presses his hands together, a sign of pleasure. "Protections, of course. We need to guard ourselves as best we can. You make a wise choice, working on your cloak. I'm thinking I'd benefit from one, as well. A magic woven into it to strengthen all aspects of health."
"You certainly have your hands full, just make sure you undergo Giseil's transformation as soon as you can. It really is a new experience, and you'll need to make yourself comfortable." As comfortable as possible.
...
As Kaylayne speaks in female drow role, Lief shakes his head. "She's already failed, and she likely doesn't even know in what manner. She has much to learn, if she's ever going to pass for a female drow. I'm not sure we have enough time." Lief approaches Kaylayne, stepping into her personal space. "Can you learn, Kaylayne?"
A few things to remember
Drow are capricious and cruel beings. If a drow shows sympathy, it is part of some larger scheme of eventual betrayal. Even within their own society, drow act only to advance their respective agendas.
Females hold positions of power in drow society. When negotiating with drow - a delicate matter - you should be sure to have a female do the talking. If a group is entirely male, they should act as subservient as possible toward all female drow, lest they invite punishment for their perceived impudence.
A drow’s ability to shrug off spells is as much a curse as it is a boon. Severely injured drow must spend time suppressing their innate spell resistance (a standard action) if they want to receive magical healing. For some drow, this means retreating at the first sign of trouble. Others fight to the death rather than show weakness.
Drow venerate the demon lords of the Abyss, with each family worshipping a specific demonic patron. Determining a particular household’s patron can sometimes give some idea on the practices of its members, and you may want to check slain drow for symbols to help determine their allegiance.
When negotiating, Diplomacy and Intimidate are more or less interchangeable - even during the same conversation. Drow are used to both methods, and do not grow annoyed Intimidation.
Ederin listens as Kaylayne, newly transformed, exercises her authority over Drowmitrio. He shrugs when she asks him for a performance review, finding himself increasingly loathe to actually speak.
Lief it seems is more confrontational than ever and moves to push Kaylayne's buttons, and Ederin watches curiously as the younger man talks down to the woman. He leans back in his chair and watches the resulting argument with something of a smirk on his face.
Some part of him is anxious, the human part, the side of him that always knew Kaylayne and Lief would come to blows one day, but his new found interest in savagery revels in what he can only hope is a satisfying display of strength from either ally.
"Yes Kaylayne, can you learn?"
"If you have any problems remembering that, *male*, I'll ask that one," Kaylayne points at Allarnon and the bear, "To make sure you get your chance to perform...perform as part of the bear's dinner. I'm sure others would appreciate the chance to see you eaten alive. And you'll accomplish your dreams of performance." Kaylayne offers one more sneer, then sits back down next to Ederin. "You only need know what I tell you and do what I ask."
Allarnon's face turns to one of disgust. "I couldn't possibly." His face shrivels up as he thinks for a moment. His head spins to the others in shock. "Am I really going to have to eat one of them down there if she tells me to?"
"Yes Kaylayne, can you learn?"
Kaylayne smiles at Drowderin.
"I think I have just proven that I can," Kaylayne replies. "Others still need to work on their meekness. I understand it does not come easily when one is accustomed to shouting and having their way without consulting others, but I'm sure they will learn."
"I couldn't possibly." His face shrivels up as he thinks for a moment. His head spins to the others in shock. "Am I really going to have to eat one of them down there if she tells me to?"
Kaylayne turns to Allarnon.
"No, I will not ask that of you. At least not expecting you to actually do it. Besides, if I would not suffer the bear to try to chew through Drowitrio's flesh...I'm sure it would taste funny," Kaylayne smirks at Dimitrio. "While other's flesh would taste bitter and empty." Kaylayne's eyes flicker at no one with the last comment.
"Take commands like that in stride when with are with others of the drowblood and act as if they will be done. I leave it to your judgment. But also, it seems that you should not challenge me in front of others. That might be bad."
* * *
Kaylayne takes as much time as her crafting will allow to get accustomed to her drow body. Noticeably, her slenderer hips and longer arms have her walking awkwardly. She has a hard time keeping her balance during tasks that are usually trivial. She smiles as the little trips and mis-balances add up. They do not truly concern her.
That she had yet to see the Other Kaylayne since her change was worrisome.
"I think I have just proven that I can. Others still need to work on their meekness. I understand it does not come easily when one is accustomed to shouting and having their way without consulting others, but I'm sure they will learn."
"She's proven a sneer, nothing more. I suppose the arrogance and the arbitrary slights fit. If she's unable to show dominance, only speak it, she'll lack the credibility we require. The burden is on her to be convincing." Lief shrugs his shoulders, as he turns to the others, giving them a doubtful look.
...
Lief takes the instructions in stride, hoping to diminish his ignorance in drow culture. He spends some time with Tarkir, in Allarnon's presence, so he can establish himself in the new collective of drow. He doesn't visit Wynd, however. Wouldn't do to spook the horse unnecessarily.
"Allarnon, how do you think Tarkir will take to such a foreign and hostile land? Or should I say, a more hostile land than this one?"
Allarnon spends a bit of time with each in the group as he spends a little more time explaining their task to Tarkir. He asks Tark to take in each of their scents, so even if they were to change forms he would know exactly who was who when we get down into the darkness.
"He should be alright. I have explained it to him. He will do his best to not outright start slaughtering any drow that we come across." He looks over at the bear. "Well.... may he won't. Though I can't say what will happen if I am threatened."
Dimitrio does his best to stand still while the bear sniffs him. "Here's hoping our scent doesn't change as the days and magic wear on.
He then goes back and studies his lessons. He knew there would come a time when they would prove useful. It's not like Layne had to answer everything, was it?
As the week winds down you begin to get settled in your own skins. Training moves from the general to the specific and you, finally, start to talk about your specific backgrounds and plans.
The current thinking by Kaerishiel is that you’re a mercenary company who hired on with the Azrinae family in their invasion of Celwynvian. When the invasion went south, you escaped with your lives, pursued by the elves as they pushed you from their realm. That explains your independence and your group nature. Naturally your contract is over so you’re free agents. You can say you were hired by Nolveniss, who’s dead and can’t deny it.
As far as getting out is concerned, when you have fled the drow city, make your way west…
When the dwarves emerged upon the surface world at the climax of the Quest for Sky, they established ten glorious “Sky Citadels” - fortress cities that formed the initial foundation of dwarven life in the Inner Sea region. Only a few of these great dwarven citadels maintain their connections to the Darklands - they are perhaps the most secure accesses into Nar-Voth (the upper layer of the Darklands) to be found, as the dwarves contain them with a system of portals and vault doors constructed of reinforced stone, steel, and adamantine and keep them under heavy guard with a gauntlet of traps, sally ports, and fields of fire, not to mention the doughty warriors of the dwarven race.
In addition, the tunnels just beyond these entrances are regularly patrolled by heavily armed parties of dwarven warriors to warn off any Darklands threats that might choose to move into the area. Known dwarven citadels that have such entrances include Janderhoff in Varisia’s Mindspin Mountains, Highhelm of The Five Kings Mountains, and Kravenkus in the World’s Edge Mountains in Taldor. Most of the smaller surviving Sky Citadels, such as Dongun Hold in Alkenstar, have long since closed off their access points to the Darklands, since these smaller fortresses aren’t as well-equipped to stand against the threat of possible invasions of duergar from below.
Janderhoff however remains open, and the elves will communicate with the dwarves to let them know you’re coming when the time is right. The elves plan to communicate with you regularly via Sending spells. They will provide what aid they can, though it likely won’t be much - or timely.
The elves believe there are three main passages in and out of the Zirnakaynin region. Northeast, Southeast, and West. Take the western passage and climb whenever possible. There should be a series of large passages upward, though difficult climbing or flying might be needed at times, it should be passable. They provide some clearly sketchy maps which might help, and might not. Clearly getting out may be the toughest part of this mission.