From foothills covered in forests the weathered and hoary peaks of an ancient mountain chain rise, permanent snowfields capping the gnarled sandstones and slates of the highest summits.
To the northern end of the chain, a turbulent cauldron of volcanic desolation marks the spot where once stood the dwarven citadel of Arnblast, before a goddess stirred the slumbering fires of the deeps.
Elsewhere in the peaks, dwarves still live, mine, and quarry, dragons have their lairs, and the tiny roads of men and elves wind amongst the massive natural architecture of the surroundings. Here and there are monasteries, homes of contemplative orders - some of whom are dedicated to deities of travellers or exploration and hence have omniportals.
Wild birds soar, cold mountain streams and rivers fall chattering in deep valleys, and the weather is fey and unpredictable, switching as easily to storms and gales whilst a sheltered valley beyond a ridgeline enjoys still sunshine.
The necromancer Cardden returns to his lair in a semi-ruined castle on a mountain-spur between two deep valleys. A trail winds away from the dilapidated gates, travelling down into one of the valleys and to a track some five miles distant which connects, a further dozen miles away, to the nearest settlement and monastery (which latter also has an omniportal).
He checks with the vampire commander of his garrison for reports of any visitors, then heads to his tower-top laboratory, clutching the star. He has several interesting theories he wishes to test out in his quest to improve the lot of the practitioners of necromancy.
In a cavern deep below the surface, gnawed through the gneiss by ancient things whose names are long forgotten, a gigantic pile of treasure which most families of dragons would have difficulty matching even one tenth of the size and value of is spread - and it is on this trove that Daelemos is sprawled, clicking the talons of one claw impatiently against the stone.
Master! I have it! the gnome from the forest and then the bazaar runs shrieking into the cavern holding aloft a star. He has teleported, run, rowed, and run all the way from the forest pretty much non-stop. I have one of the pretty shinies for your hoards!
The dragon swiftly and expertly swipes the star from the clutches of the gnome, sending the gnome sprawling, and delicately holds the star up between the vast tips of two talons in front of his face to inspect.
You are late, the dragon rumbles. You were supposed to report back with one of these four hours ago, at the latest.
With the other foreclaw he lashes out at the squirming gnome.
No master, I.. hiiii... urgggh.
The dragon pulls back the claw.
Usually I would not be so tolerant of delays, but on this occasion, I am in a mood to teach you to focus on the task in hand, instead of to altogether dispense with you. With only one eye you should be able to concentrate more clearly, and not permit yourself to become distracted.
The gnome clutches at his bloodstained face, glad to be still alive and for the remarkable precision which the dragon can muster.
I, huh, thank you, master.
The dragon continues to inspect the star.
That is all for now. You may go.
The gnome turns and leaves; to be eaten by the dragon for failing him in some way is common, but to have in some way erred in the carrying out of a task, but to have been left alive is a high badge of honour amongst his people. He inwardly vows to prove worthy of the mark that the dragon has favoured him with...
Daelomin's lairs tend to be in the middle of areas which only the dragon can (presumably) travel in and out of by magic, possible exceptions being for The Night Dragon and Daughters of the Morning.
In his laboratory, Cardden secures the star in a circle marked with occult symbols, sets up a nearby apparatus, and activates it to begin to spew negative energy into the circle, confident that this will help 'grow' the star towards his desired end result.
To his horror he sees the star begin to wither and contract instead. He shuts down the negative energy apparatus, grabs a ring of wishes off a shelf, and has to use a wish to undo the damage he just did.
Tarnation, he mutters to himself. That *should* have worked. Evidently I am incorrect in my understanding, and will need to take a different approach. Clearly this is not the completely untyped primordial matter which I had hoped to find with which I am working.
Meanwhile, elsewhere beneath the mountains, the trial of Lynora-Jill is proceeding at an orderly rate.
As the prosecution builds its case, calling experts and witnesses, the appointed defence barrister, and his scribes scribble notes and check things in ancient tablets of law.
Just a general update on the situation, and first post for the defence barrister. Still not much actually happening.
The caverns deep below the mountains, where the legendary dragon has his lair are a hub of activity, gnomes scuttling hither and thither at their master's bidding.
Humming, Cardden the necromancer turns the handle on a little winch, raising the star out of the laboratory bath of pure liquid evil that he had immersed it in. He inspects it through a hand lens, taps the star with a little hammer, and sighs. His plan to turn it into a seed crystal didn't appear to be working.
Outside night steals gently over the mountain tops.
Gnome servants begin to erect a special stand, so that their master can display his latest acquisitions properly.
Cardden pulls himself out of the smoking remains of his laboratory, thankful to be alive. His residence is partially demolished, his servants scattered.
He thought that he had bribed the master of these mountains, to leave him alone, and surely no other dragon would have dared to strike at him like that? What was going on?
More treasures arrive borne by gnomes to decorate one of their master's lairs.
The dragon snorts as news of the disqualification of the gnome crossbow team arrives at his lair. He expected it to happen at some point, anyway, and they were dispatched to the contest to weed out some of the tougher opposition in earlier rounds to give his other champions a clearer run. The one gnome of the four who failed to make it into the semi-finals before disqualification struck is earmarked for later consumption.
Other news is mixed. As expected, his half-sister has dipped a claw into the contest, anxious to grab the star for herself.
Most of the ragtag bag she assembled to fight on her behalf have been ineffectual.
The contestant known as 'Dracul' - 'The Dragon' is bothering Daelemos however. He has no idea where he came from, and he half-suspects his sibling's influence in this...
Fuming, the dragon picks bits of the fourth (and failed) gnome of the crossbow team from his teeth. The idiot had been too slow to fire in the games, and had been taken down. He should have had the sense to be killed instead of being knocked unconcious.
'Dracul'? Where in the nine hells had that one come from? How had his wretched half-sister found him, or persuaded him to fight for her? Daelemos darkly suspected that playing goodie two-shoes with her mother she must have contacts and spy-network access beyond his own capabilities.
Okay, if a dragon *was* going to humble itself by serving the will of another, it might as well be someone as big and bad as that - Daelemos couldn't entirely fault her on that point - but dragons were supposed to be independent, the Lords and Masters of all which they surveyed, and even working for other dragons went against the grain.
Except, obviously, for dragons which worked for Daelemos. Obviously that was a privilige.
And just how long was it going to take those star-gathering twits to get down here, to grovel before his magnificence? He had sent them an invitation that they should have found irresistible, one way or another.
The collection was so nearly complete. Okay, he wouldn't ever be able to get the very last star away from Eiboria, and probably not the lesser ones she occasionally wore as jewels, but the idiot godspawn had so conveniently managed to gather together practically the rest for his benefit.
Privately Daelemos was not surprised that she was so stupid, given some of the idiotic things her parents had done.
Powerful by the standards of non-dragons, and a suitable ornament, properly treated, to grace one of his lairs, but of little more worth, except to annoy his half-sister.
For a few hours, Daelemos had been concerned that his half-sister might have claimed her, permanently, but she was apparently walking around without protection of any significance (in terms of draconic politics now) so was fair game once more.
Time to plot....
In a remote tea plantation, in a deep valley amidst the peaks, the staff and workers are turned out in their best today. The mistress is visiting, to inspect the property, and she has invited one of her aristocratic friends along, too.
The ladies wander the tea-plantation, occasionally pausing to stop and inspect particular bushes and the leaves being grown.
The steward responsible for the plantation follows behind, nervously, aware of the tremendous political power and influence that his mistress wields.
For hundreds - *thousands* in fact some stories say - of years, this valley has remained free from any of the conflicts which typically accompany the shifting borders of local kingdoms.
Even wealthy merchant houses, eager to explore for possible rich mineral veins, have found the doors that their coins can usually open mysteriously kept shut.
Eventually, Shovastika and her guest retire to a terrace near the top of the plantation to sit under a silk awning and admire the view.
A table is set up, and a plantation servant brings out a bone china tea service and a couple of plates of scones.
So, anything interesting going on in the world in general?
Lots of activity, not much of interest to us. Given that the Eldest Elemental Evils may shortly be taking over rather a lot of places, I may have to take on some succubi guards to keep my property interests safe, and hope that the Eldest is in negotiating mood.
It's so difficult to find a succubus hardened by adventures this millenium.
All they seem to do is loll around being 'kept' by mortal playboys.
The Eldest Elemental Evils taking over?
There's been a lot of activity with their heralds recently. Five of them now active. Signs that the others may shortly be retrieved and/or reactivated.
A wounded Erinyes flies across the sky overhead being chased by three bat-winged devils. One of them lashes out at her with a spiked whip and slashes her wings. She crashes to the ground not far from the tea party and struggled to get up to try and keep running. Her pursuers circle and dive down.
Ah.
Aramintha nods, understandingly, and the pair sit for a while, admiring the view and sipping tea.
The arrival of multiple baatezu on the scene produces a distinct lapse in amiability in the pair of ladies.
Devils these days. I could have sworn that they were supposed to know better than to bother this valley, Shovastika sounds distinctly irritated.
Good thing I put on a low backed dress this morning.
She shouts at the intruding devils.
Oi, you lot, clear off. This is private property. I would have expected denizens of the Hells to have some respect for rules.
One of the horned devils dive bombs Ashaundra, tackling her before she can get up. She curses. If she hadn't already been weakened by the attentions of that horror she would never have been such easy prey. The horned devil laughs at her discomfort.
Aramintha makes a face, given that she is wearing a full length sugar pink dress. She sighs and hopes that the problem goes away.
I said clear off. I won't ask again nicely.
She rises to her feet.
Shovastika wrote: Devils these days. I could have sworn that they were supposed to know better than to bother this valley, Shovastika sounds distinctly irritated.
Good thing I put on a low backed dress this morning.
She shouts at the intruding devils.
Oi, you lot, clear off. This is private property. I would have expected denizens of the Hells to have some respect for rules.
"I beg your pardon," one of the horned devils says sarcastically, "but I think you'll find there's an exception clause in that rule regarding the pursuit of rogue Baatezu. We'll just be taking this one with us and we'll be out of your way momentarily."
Ash struggles with her captors, the blood from her wounds making her slippery and difficult to keep hold of.
The pair exchange glances.
Shovastika quirks an eyebrow.
Aramintha makes an 'after you' gesture.
Shovastika elegantly sprouts her great leathery wings and with a neat little flick takes to the air, maneuvering to get both the flying cornugons within touching distance if possible.
With the sound of tearing fabric, Aramintha spreads her own wings, dimension-doors the short distance to the other cornugon, wraps her arms about him, and drawing her wings about for privacy, subjects him to a long, lingering, kiss, from which he is unable to escape.
Wing span of approximately thirty feet from tip to tip, perfect maneuverability.
The horned devils are so busy trying to subdue a struggling Ash that they don't notice until too late that Shovastika is attacking them.
Ash takes advantage of the devils' distraction to break free and she manages to stumble a few steps along the patio before she falls over again, too weak from her wounds to run.
Shovastika wrote: Wing span of approximately thirty feet from tip to tip, perfect maneuverability.
Yeah, you can get both of them. They were pretty close together trying to retrieve Ash and go.
The cornugons flick with their chains at Shovastika, but with little effect other than damaging her dress, which does, however seem to *really* annoy her. The air about Shovastike fills with a horrible crackling hissing noise, and dances with blue sparks that spread out from her, and yet seem to dance with backward swirling lightnings. She adopts an air of terrifyingly intense beauty.
One of the cornugons has a chance to swear briefly, as they finally recognise the ancient terror that has overtaken them, before the paralysing effect of the soul-draining field locks in place.
Shovastika drops after the plummeting cornugons, keeping the field in place, locking and slaying them.
The devil in Aramintha Jaine's grip struggles weakly, eventually going totally limp.
Ash tries to crawl, but can't get far. She whimpers in pain. Her eyes widen with terror as she sees the fate of her would-be captors.
Aramintha Jaine opens her wings, brushing the dust which is all that remains of the cornugon from her, a dreamy expression on her face, and having adopted an air of beauty perhaps slightly more intense than her friends.
As far as Ashaundra is concerned, there are myths on the planes about primeval 'succubi', the most beautiful and dangerous of all predators, but nobody believes in them really... I mean it's just Tanar'ri propaganda, umm, isnt it?
Both Aramintha and Shovastika are currently exhibiting Charisma scores in the 60+ range at the moment though, in terms of appearance and force of personality.
Shovastika does not stop draining the other two cornugons, until they are burnt out husks.
Not a lot of defence against a 'proximity-effect' soul drain of a greater succubus if you come within range. Hope a friend catches you with a lasoo and drags you out is about all that works.
No defence against a direct contact kiss.
Ash watches in horrified fascination wondering which one of these beautiful, terrible creatures will be coming to kill her next. "See, I knew it. Demons do have all the fun." she thinks to herself.
Hmmph. I am going to have to explain something to my employees who saw that, Shovastika grumbles, making her way back up to the terrace. She glances at Ashaundra.
So who are you, and what brought you here? And please don't lie. People have been trying to lie to me for tens of millions of years. I don't need to take your mind apart piece by piece to know if you're telling the truth or not.
All the two I took out knew was that they had been given orders to chase you, torment you, and drag you back to the Hells.
She looks at her friend.
Oh all the one I had was thinking was the usual mental scream of exquisite agony as I devoured his essence, she shrugs and becomes more businesslike. She makes a face and does her best to start attempting to assess the damage to her dress.
I really think you need some more practice at letting the soul linger, so you can savour it for answers, Shovastika sighs at her friend.
Shovastika wrote: Hmmph. I am going to have to explain something to my employees who saw that, Shovastika grumbles, making her way back up to the terrace. She glances at Ashaundra.
So who are you, and what brought you here? And please don't lie. People have been trying to lie to me for tens of millions of years. I don't need to take your mind apart piece by piece to know if you're telling the truth or not.
All the two I took out knew was that they had been given orders to chase you, torment you, and drag you back to the Hells.
She glances at her friend.
"My name is Ashaundra," she said weakly, glancing back and forth between the two women. "I used to be an angel, but I was prideful and because of that I got caught by a powerful devil and after a few decades of torture and whatnot...well, let's just say that I wasn't really interested in doing good anymore. I signed on as a servant for a powerful goddess who wanted to blow up the universe because at that point, that seemed like a good idea. Only that didn't work out so well in the long run since my goody two-shoes sister actually managed to kill the goddess and take her powers and I got left working with a bunch of crazed carnies just to stay alive. And then he found me again and decided to...express his displeasure at great length. He said that I clearly needed an extended lesson in how to follow the rules. I ran. He set the dogs on me. I'm sorry I trespassed on your property. I didn't know. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
She must be the sister of Lynora-Jill, Shovastika says to Aramintha. Cornugons sent after her... If I recall correctly she did a spell working for Nyarlathotep's little friend.
Hmm. Well a fallen-angel-turned-baatezu is an entirely different proposition from just a plain normal boring baatezu, Aramintha considers.
Where exactly is Ashaundra's alignment at present?
Aramintha Jaine wrote: Hmm. Well a fallen-angel-turned-baatezu is an entirely different proposition from just a plain normal boring baatezu, Aramintha considers.
Where exactly is Ashaundra's alignment at present?
It is shifting wildly between lawful evil and chaotic evil. Her inclination is chaotic evil, but her nature is lawful evil.
To Aramintha:
We're going to have to do something drastic about her. Z-K will keep on looking so long as there's anything left of her he or his servants could sense.
To Shovastika:
Umm. He's not exactly endeared himself recently has he?
Ash watched the two beauties calmly debating her future and held her breath. She wasn't sure if they meant to kill her or keep her as a pet.
To Aramintha:
Well there was the millenium party with the herald who barged Ahnsalvios ruining a cocktail dress, the chains incident with the blacksmiths in Waterdrowned, the tea-plantation destroyed in that fight with the Abdarians a couple of centuries ago...
She begins ticking off points on her fingers.
To Shovastika:
Hmm, yes, I think we get the point. This might be a chance for a tremendously good joke at his expense.
To Ashaundra:
Are you capable of giving and keeping your word of honour on a subject? This isn't about keeping a promise because the law says so; It's about keeping it because it matters to your pride - that you may not give it that often, and only when you feel like it, but that when you do you always observe what you feel to be the spirit of any deal which you make?
Aramintha Jaine wrote:
To Ashaundra:
Are you capable of giving and keeping your word of honour on a subject? This isn't about keeping a promise because the law says so; It's about keeping it because it matters to your pride - that you may not give it that often, and only when you feel like it, but that when you do you always observe what you feel to be the spirit of any deal which you make?
Ash swallowed hard. "Yes," she said hoarsely. "I kept my oaths to the goddess faithfully. It's the legal contracts I'm no good at."
She watched the lovely woman carefully wondering if that was the right answer or the wrong one. If it was the wrong one she supposed that meant she'd be dead soon. Which would still be better than going back to *him*.
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