Things that make me smile

(An extract from Olath's diary)

Peeling off young, innocent elves. Yes, peel them, like you'd peel a apple, or even better, a juicy orange.
Smell the blood , so warm, so ruby , the magnificence of a new found jewel. A magic that renews itself with every life you take.

The subtle pleasure of leashing them to the wall, and wait, read the fear in their eyes, and just wait, let their mind fly through paths of utter complete terror.

Tell'em " you're free now , you may go " , and see the hope burning in their innocent, sparkling, naive eyes. Just before you kill'em.

And oh, the begging, celestial music to my old ears. You have everything, and give nothing but a few crumbles from your latest, exquisite meal. And see them crawl, like wild animals , filling their toothless mouth with your left overs.

A once noble creature completely tainted.

I have seen all that , something that a feeble non drow mind could never understand, let alone apprecciate. To be frank, even amidst my own kins someone finds my habit slightly disturbing.

And their lack of guts is not amusing.

A prisoner i am currectly overwatching: she can hold her hand still while i use my cane on her palm, and even count.
I enjoy that self control , i almost admire that steady resolution to obey , without even trying to think by herself.

Silly, ignorant , only half drow. But got guts and seems willing to serve: that is enough to bring a smile.

Just something that crossed my mind , i do not know why , or perhaps i know, and i am grinning at this very moment. Enjoying the reaction of some inferior being reading these lines.

Arken'Ghym Founding

::: Omulu sits down at her writingdesk, in front of her logs :::

((( Dear Diary ... )))

It has been many days ago, that me and the remains of my last Qu'ellar, the true descendants of Rilyn'afin, thus been rebirthed Rilyn'alean'Afin, has left the caves of Aglarond.
A true exodus if you will.
For days my Qu'ellar had travelled.
It needs no say we all survived.
However , it needs saying, that for reasons of security , we travelled seperatly.
In small groups.
That is because if one groups doesn't make it .. there is always a change another will.
It increases the odds of survival for the Qu'ellar as a whole, rather then the individuals.

We have settled down in Erebos.
A land wich we have found to be quite hospitable to Ilythiiri.
We have claimed our own cave system.
Invisible to the outside world, unless you know where to go.
Even the odds of stumbling upon it by accident , are minimal.

Let me see
recollect the memories.

Aaah yes. Siyo.
I don't think I will be able to recall all the events in chronological order.
But it makes no difference.
This log is for my personal use only.
I naut need to fear other eyes laying upon it.
First there was the poisoning of the surface's water supply.
The theft of their food.
The assault of the elf.
The slaying of the Guardian of Balance.
The torture of the Heretic.
Hunting the dwarf, in processing ... if you will ... .
And the addition of new minions.
Yessss.
Erebos is good to us.

As a final note.
I wish to confide to this parchment that we have abolished Rilyn'alean'Afin with the thought that if one wishes to rebuild anew, one needs to clear the way by getting rid of the old.
For now we are called Arken'Ghym.
As the name might suggest, it is lead by mage.
By me.
We are Mages of the Forgotten Ways.
For it seemed to be forgotten who we really are.
We are Ilythiiri.
And everyone shall know us to be so.
Ilythiiri who are True to the Old Ways.

The Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre ,
The spider couldnt hear its master.
Things fell apart , the center could not hold.
Mere anarchy was loose upon the underworld.
Broken was the holy knot , only whines, no more words:
Any hope for glory had drowned.
The best lacked all conviction, while the worst
Were full of passionate intensity.

But a revelation was at hand, a coming was at hand.
The Coming.
Hardly were those words out of my mouth
When a vaste image of Her glory
Troubled my sight: a city built from nothing but desert sand.

Then a shape: the beauty of a drow and the lion's strenght.
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun;
Her long , well shaped thighs moved, while all around
The indignant shadows of the ones she defeated
Joined a a choir , begging for mercy.

After centuries of stone sleep,
vexed to nightmares by a dusty cradle,
i was recalled.
The city rebuilt.

Sons and daughter of Menzoberranzan , and you, from all other cities
Bow to the new Ilharess, Jabbress Omulu.


:::::::::: Olath hands her this scroll , smirking softly " the least i could do the celebrate your Coming, and my own " :::::::::::::::


PS: inspired by a poem by W.B. Yeats

From Olath's diary

That is no place for a weak city. The humans
in one another's arms , the elves, like bird in the trees,
-those doggoned generations- keep breeding
all summer long.

Whatever is begotten born and dies, that is true.
One wins through skills, not through sheer numbers, that is also true, BUT ...

Let's face reality, we've been chased from city to city, these blasted surfacers have been too much for our rotten teeth. For my own rotten teeth.

I look in the mirror , no lines, of course, no wrinkles, but all the same i stay an aged drow.
My old body is no more
than a dusty, tattered coat,
crumbling away, second after second.
I can feel it fall, hour after hour.

The spring of my own life besieged.

It's time to act. It's time to stake everything on a single card.

For every tatter in my mortal dress, a spell.
Into the artefice of eternity, i must rest.

Once out of nature i shall never take my bodily form from any natural thing.
I won't be above, no, but by the side , by the side of this female mage,
too clever to be a mere puppet. Too clever to kill me now, while i'm still trapped in this decaying cage of meat and bones.

Enough of this , the most secret chest is my own mind, i believe Alev's spiders to be spying me, reporting everything to Omulu.
So be it, as long as she doesn't know i know, i still have an advantage.

About more practical matters:

I have been trying to hire some spy, and in the process, i let the surfacers believe i have more , customers, shall i say? than i actually have.
Mining their moral is the most reliable tactic i can think of.
As long as we are so weak and so proud, we need to act with unsurpassed skills.

I am too old to believe it's another test of LLoth , it's a mere wheel, which shall keep turning
and turning...
...and turning...

Untill you break it and make yourself free

A figure from the Shadow

" You listen to me and you listen good. The only reason you where allowed from the Shadow Plane is because I think you can be useful. If for some reason I stop thinking that, your undoing is most certain."
Omulu said after she saw a figure rematerialize out of shadows.
Olath had been brought back.
The stories she'd heard about him, where true yet .. more true then she anticipated.
The arrogant little worm.
No one can not find one satisfying reason to hurt him.
Plenty of them.
Oh how ironic that his use exceeds his provocations.
"L' lotha shu ! ...jhal usstan ssrig'luin ukta.."

"siyo .. ssiyo .. he said it .. the pact of mutual silence"
Little does he know .. Aalak is already aware of his reëxistance in this plane.
"Usstan Ilharess"
Little does 'usstan byr Ilharess' know about Aalak.
How funny a thing this could proove to be.

A Voice from the past (True or dream? )

You are a fool Mal'ad ... 

oh, do not look around, i'm not here, and do not prepare your pretty fireworks, it'd be a waste of energy, really, my friend.

What am i?

Who am i?.

I shall answer your questions at once, young Mal'ad , just relax and sip some of your mushroom wine. you like it, don't you?.

And you like your power, your station *a laughter* how young , how fool ...

No, don't get nervous , calm down, i'm not here to insult you, it's just a diversive i find amusing , i am here to open your eyes.

What am i? a shadow.

Who?. I'll give you a name , Olath , the shadow.

You probably know about my fate, so i won't bother you with it , but i see potential in you , young mage, hence i took the freedom to make a little trick, expanding my aurea to another staff , yours.

My voice hasn't be heard for a long time , most forgot about me, but if my body is exiled from this planet, my mind is very much alive.

And i am putting it at your service, Jabbuk Mal'ad , for you remind me of myself, and have a power that i don't want to see wasted, ussta Jabbuk.

Hence your most loyal subject shall serve you, and correct your mistakes, if you allow.

First off: Alev , do not whine to Aalak , instead, answer to Omulu, in a polite, subtle letter where you state that you are only doing her a favour by training her male even further , in her absence.

Explain that no physical harm shall be done to her precious male, all that you require is what your status require: Obediance , after all, that is the reason why the Females like him, no?.

Allowing him to disobey one, would allow him to disobey a thousand, don't you agree, Jabbuk?.

As for Aalak , Ilharess Aalak, she is as old as i am , not old, but not as young as you, now, if she dies and Omulu, who seems not to age normally, takes her place, you are ... well, you are fucked , to put it very mildly, my dear Jabbuk.

Give her a heir , and make sure to be the only male around her , that shall make things so much easier , Jabbuk, for you don't want to give up your power, do you, Jabbuk?.

Enough for now, but as the loyal shadow i am , i shall rest my case and leave my spirit in your staff, you'll surely find a way to call me when you need me, Jabbuk Mal'ad, or i might just whisper in your ear when you most need it.

...

"Who am I?"

A question more tricky to answer then one first might think.
I'm not a last survivor of a once grand and magnificent House, nor the less romantic version of a lone drow.
However I was wealthy, even rich.
But one could argue that the only reason I'm sill alive is because I have made myself needed amongst my .. peers.
Not myself, no no , but my skills and talents are hard to replace and you can be sure I never taught any of my students to the extend that they would level my own abilities.
And I trained many a student who later became great.
For someone in my position, with my ... how do we say *smiles* ; resentment against certain aspects of the clergy, it would be less then wise to have done so.
And to be replaced by one of my students .. someone with my abilities but with a mind that has yet to be molded and formed.
I don't think so.
I can and will teach them if they so dearly wish, but I will teach them what I want them to teach, wich might or might not be the same as what they wished to gain from my lessons.
I'm quite comfortable where I am now.
Then again ... competition arises.
Having survived a feeble attempt on my life through poison by some lowlife.
But now .. the Warmage who calls himself Malad.
Perhaps I should let the arachnomancer challenge him before he ever becomes a problem, if he's victorious, he can be given to that little priestess.
A token of my ... goodwill, and so he is away from me .. and my position.
Warmages, however their mana reach is similar to any wizzard, their spells are more destructive and detrimental then the "ordinary" practicer of the arcane, yet lacking of subtlety.
Often in the domain of Fire.
My own spells are difficult to spot. Fluent, vibrant and athmospheric.
Who ever pays that much attention to the movements of the wind when a sword is pointed at your face ?
Could you have guessed the movements of the wind is more real then the illusion of the sword ?
Or that the wind just whispered such waking dream into your mind?
I did never had to study as many a wizzard to attain the feeling of magic.
It was already there, the arcane within my grasp, the only thing I had to do was to extend that grasp.
My own domain is that of Air, that wich is fleeting as as my own reveries.
A domain wish is considered, inferiour to study because of it's .. lack of harmful abilities.
I call that shortsighted and narrowminded.
A slow working poison has "more or less" the same result then a butcherknife.
And Mind *gives a small chuckle* for wich I did had to study long and hard, yet never equalled my abilities in the domain of Air, wich was innate one could say.
There is nobody that can manipulate it the way I can, in a way that is hardly ever noticed.
How I can make it dance with itself and someone's senses, making the unwitting target nothing more then a slave of those senses.
It's sorcery, my dear.
That's exactly what it is.
And unlike the clergy, we only have one desire; wich is to be allowed to exist.
A fortune for us and likes of us, is that we are indeed needed to acces those levels of magic that are never revealed to the divine spellcaster .. such as a yathrin.
A misfortune for me, that it does not favor my gender, certainly it's not forbidden, prohibitted or in any way a taboe but as do all unwritten laws it's ... felt.
Dissaprovement is noticable and often even outright.
It matters not, their path is not mine.
For I such as any yathrin .. or any Ilythiiri even, feels Lloth's claws in her soul and Her voice in her mind. I go wherever She sees fit for me to go. And I did.

Provincialism

Yes my first idea about Lilth My'athar was that it had the feel of a province to it. And I had to amdit to myself it was not something I was looking forward to.
On the other hand it had gave reason for a few encounters of the amusing but predictable sort.
One of wich was with the town drunkard.
Who had obviously taken it upon herself to claim the arachnomancer for herself after the Ilharess had been so kind to give him to me for my personal amusement. Or any other recquirement I may have.
I can't say I have taken friendly to the commoner in question, yet the Matron seems to have something in mind for her. She has uttered the wish for me to find suitable use of her.
Twice she has given me the same 'skilllllssss' wich where thievery and other such 'talents' the common street urchin might posess as well.
Thus I have given her more or less of a choice to join the ranks of my mages, learning anythign that may be of use to her for her personal advancement.
Oh I sigh to myself when I can bring my mind to think about it.
She is so predictable and simple to understand, she wants the arachnomancer because she feels it will enlarge her own shot at a seat near the Matron.
How I enjoy to torment her.
My little elg'caress, how I saved you from perspering in a gutter !
To be consumed by her own pride.
Her first taste of nobility I'd say.
And how equally amusing it tastes, to once be frowned upon as the slowest student in the class, thought of as having no innate talent for magic.
How I showed them....
I am closed to being unequalled in my field of speciality.
Sad how it may be that Lolth hand't divinity in mind when She first envisioned me, I have accepted this and turned my gaze upon my hidden path of talents.
Sorcery.
Arcane magic, wich came natural to me.
As if ... a breeze through a cave.
And it smelled of victory.

Jabbress Omulu arrives

The glowing lake below Lilth My'athar was calm , and as dark as usual , while a drow , coming that way, seemed to be studying its surface.
His velvet purple clothes were rich and exotic , leaving his well built chest uncovered, his hair were tied in an exotic fashion, several pigtails on the sides of his head, and a few larger ones, on the back.

After a few minutes another figure approached, smaller and darker than the other drow , but after a quick whispering, the figure disappeared as quickly as it came , but not without leaving a message:

"Jabbress Aalak , the Ilharess , is waiting for you, Alev " , the message was as simple as this, but it would have brought many conseguences, and the arachnomancer seemed to perceive that , despite of his apparent calm, a few tiny spiders were running around his feet, a clear sign of his excitement , for the messenger, before disappearing added " Jabbress Omulu is there as well ".

:::::::::::

He quickly sank onto his knees once in the throne room , so fabolously wealthy to give a shiver on his back , especially if compared to the relatively naked surroundings.
He was raised to live by the drow rules, and so he did, his interest laid in spiders and magic, and his obediance to the favoured children of the spider Queen, was as natural as his breathing itself , but still, he was surprised when Jabbress Aalak, the Ilharess, with a soft, evil chukle, demanded him to show hospitality to the new Drowess by being her chair , getting on all fours for her.

He did that without a question or a grunt, of course, and he was stunned by the graceful, nonchalnt way the new Jabbress sat on his back, naturally, lifting her feet now and then, without the smallest hesitation , or care for the male under her.
A iron personality, as hard as steel, what he was thaught to apprecciate and rever , so he struggled to stay still during the long conversation between the two females, obviously, the two most powerful females of the city , dealing to work together rather than fighting one each other.

Jabbress Omulu seemed to admire Jabbress Aalak, in a way, for her ...diplomatic skills, one could say , her ability to be double faced, opportunist , ready to use every mean at disposal to reach her goal , and last but not least, her indipendence from the self proclaimed Valsharess.

But the surprises for the arachnomancer weren't over , happy to have found a strong ally for her throne, Ilharess Aalak, gave him to Jabbress Omulu as a sign of the many things she can offer to the ones supporting her position.

He was ordered to follow her , which he did , and expectably, the Jabbress didn't need much effort to make her comfortable with her new male, of whose she seemed pleased, about his obediance and blind devotion.

A new house, a new city, a new property , and good beginning for Jabbress Umulu, she was appointed by the Matron as HeadMage , basically, a position where she only has to answer to the Ilharess herself , and even got a male for her own amusement , a powerful mage, properly brainwashed, one who wouldn't ever betray her , unlike ...some other male, owned by some other Drowess, once.

Arriving in Lilth My'Athar

This is the chronicle of Omulu'Ryn l'Ith-Nal.Currently stationed at d'Vhid Avuna.My life's goal has been heeding the call from Lolth, from wherever She may do so.More specifically, to Houses who carry her favor , and make sure they manage to keep it that way.It's where my talents lay.For it did not please Lloth to send me on the path of Yathrin, she had bestowed another honor on me instead.Magic that is not divine but surely not less powerful.I have had many a students.And many have grown to be great.Not once did their succes shine on me directly.But each and everyone of those , kept fearing me throghout their quest for glory.For now I hear the Call coming from a farout region in the UnderDark.A small town.I have to fight my reluctance to go there, away from my comforts, the noisyness of the big city.Silence is too deafening for one like me.Ah to think, I stared out my life, or at least the memorable part of it, as one being able to sing magic to life within myself.Vieuwed with hatred and jealousy. I thrived off it and received predatorial senses.Although I am not invisible , nor I ever was.
I am Omulu, the friend of nobles.
I am called the Black Plague.