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(Cydra) Delilah's Story
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 2333324" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Delilah's Story II</strong></p><p></p><p><em><strong>8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch</strong></em></p><p></p><p>“Ah, Delilah,” croaks Nydroth. His smile shows yellow teeth beneath the matted remains of his moustache. “Coming up on three centuries before too long, eh?” He cackles again, madly. </p><p></p><p>She smiles briefly at him. “Yes, another twenty years or so...”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, remember when we first met? You were traveling with Billy, and he hired me on as an architect...” The necromancer sighs and grins. “He certainly was rich and in love with you!” </p><p></p><p>Delilah smiles fondly at the memory. “Ah, Billy. He was the closest thing I have felt to love since...” She trails off. <em>Since I became undead.</em></p><p></p><p>Nydroth snorts. “You know I could make you something that would look just like him, of course.”</p><p></p><p>She shrugs. “And I could summon something to imitate him. It’s unnecessary. I hardly even think of him these days.”</p><p></p><p>“Ironic, now that you have a farm of living bodies to inhabit,” he comments. “You could have felt the pleasures of the flesh with him.”</p><p></p><p>“He always preferred it when I was cold and still,” she replies wryly. “I’m afraid my <em>inner warmth</em> was lost on him once he knew my secret.”</p><p></p><p>“You cold-hearted bitch,” Nydroth compliments her. She laughs with delight. </p><p></p><p>“Come, Nydroth, let’s find some solitude together.” She takes his arm and the two retire to an alcove, snatching up a jug of wine on the way, and they spend several hours reminiscing about old times. They go back centuries, to before Nydroth, at least, was undead. In fact, they go back further with each other than they do with Dzaram.</p><p></p><p><em>Ahh, the old days,</em> Delilah thinks. <em>I was much more afraid then. I was worried, always worried, that Dexter would hunt me down. At least until the incident with the dragon. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>I should have known better. I forgot about Farenth.</em></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Late spring and early summer, 97 O.L.G., Forinthia</strong></em></p><p></p><p>After her narrow escape from extinction at the hands of Dexter, Malford, Lochenvare and their friends, Delilah kept a low profile for months. She had few physical needs, though she did thirst for life energy. But she could not live on the run, sleeping in ditches and consigning herself to mud and filth. Delilah, as always, needed to be able to costume herself in the appropriate clothes, to apply makeup, to perfume the odor of decay that had started to rise from her body. Therefore she had to have money, and some contacts with civilization. She made those contacts with a combination of the utmost care and a remarkable brashness.</p><p></p><p>On one occasion she overcame a small merchant wagon, slaying the driver and merchants and stealing clothes, gold and jewels from their bodies. This worked so well that she determined to do it again. Thus she met Billy.</p><p></p><p>Billy and his bodyguards were terrified as she burst out, conjuring spiders and worse, and their morale quickly broke. They surrendered and threw themselves on the mercies of Delilah. She bound and abused them, and to her amusement, she saw that their leader- a male half-elf- became aroused while she assaulted him. She played with him for some time before demanding his name. </p><p></p><p>“Billy,” he gasped as she slapped his face. </p><p></p><p>She was having too much fun to simply slay him. He seemed to enjoy her sadistic attentions in a most unwholesome way. He even tried to satisfy her own twisted desires- impossible, now, as it turned out. But his enthusiastic attempts were endearing enough to keep him alive. </p><p></p><p>Then, a few days into their bizarre ‘relationship,’ Delilah became aware that Billy was the scion of the second-richest family on Dorhaus. </p><p></p><p>Moreover, he seemed to be genuinely falling for her. </p><p></p><p>The weeks wore on, and Delilah allowed Billy more and more freedom to test him. He was thoroughly under her spell. Delilah the Delightful, Delilah the Delicious, Delilah the Delirious... Delilah the Damned. She grew to trust Billy, though warily, and finally revealed her true nature to him (having hidden it for some time with duplicity and the use of a spell she had developed, <em>inner warmth,</em> that gave her a body temperature equal to a living human’s). He was neither appalled nor heartbroken. In fact, Billy had some very peculiar proclivities, and Delilah was perfectly suited for them. He seemed to be a genuine necrophiliac, and when they lay together, his favorite thing was for her to ‘shut off’ and lay there, cold and dead, unmoving. She was happy to oblige him; clearly, he was the ticket to a potentially very good, easy life. The money, the access to society, the potential for a distant, isolated lair- all those things appealed greatly to Delilah. </p><p></p><p>So she and Billy traveled towards his home in the very capitol of Forinthia, the Halls of Light. Her sense of irony was greatly aroused by this. To lair in the center of the Light itself! Word had reached her that Dexter and his friends were back on Dorhaus; she had no enemies that she was aware of that could reach her on Forinthia. </p><p></p><p>On the outskirts of the Halls of Light, in a small, isolated peasant’s hut, she met Nydroth. The necromancer was known even then as “Grisly”, though the countless experiments and bizarre crossbreeds he would later make were yet to come. Delilah recognized in the mad necromancer’s demeanor a certain arcane tendency. A few minutes of conversation confirmed it, and also informed her that Nydroth was brilliant. He had a strong focus on necromancy- perhaps helpful to a being in her state- and a sharp mind. Inquiring about his more mundane talents, Delilah convinced Billy to hire him as an architect.</p><p></p><p>But disaster loomed not far ahead.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p><em><strong>8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch</strong></em></p><p></p><p>“I wonder whatever happened to Billy,” Delilah says softly.</p><p></p><p>Nydroth shrugs. “He died, I’m sure. He was only a half-elf.”</p><p></p><p>She smiles absently. “Very true. I can’t help but wonder what might have happened if it wasn’t for the dragon.”</p><p></p><p>Nydroth chuckles. “Well, he probably would have employed <em>me</em> longer.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, but then you might not have joined Dzaram’s cabal.”</p><p></p><p>He nods. “Speaking of which, I believe Zazou is about to perform a song.”</p><p></p><p>The two rise, wine still in hand- not that either of them feel alcohol anymore- and step back into the gathering as the Yellow Bard begins to strum his lute.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> The tale of the first dragon encountered in Cydra!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 2333324, member: 1210"] [b]Delilah's Story II[/b] [i][b]8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch[/b][/i][b][/b] “Ah, Delilah,” croaks Nydroth. His smile shows yellow teeth beneath the matted remains of his moustache. “Coming up on three centuries before too long, eh?” He cackles again, madly. She smiles briefly at him. “Yes, another twenty years or so...” “Ah, remember when we first met? You were traveling with Billy, and he hired me on as an architect...” The necromancer sighs and grins. “He certainly was rich and in love with you!” Delilah smiles fondly at the memory. “Ah, Billy. He was the closest thing I have felt to love since...” She trails off. [i]Since I became undead.[/i] Nydroth snorts. “You know I could make you something that would look just like him, of course.” She shrugs. “And I could summon something to imitate him. It’s unnecessary. I hardly even think of him these days.” “Ironic, now that you have a farm of living bodies to inhabit,” he comments. “You could have felt the pleasures of the flesh with him.” “He always preferred it when I was cold and still,” she replies wryly. “I’m afraid my [i]inner warmth[/i] was lost on him once he knew my secret.” “You cold-hearted bitch,” Nydroth compliments her. She laughs with delight. “Come, Nydroth, let’s find some solitude together.” She takes his arm and the two retire to an alcove, snatching up a jug of wine on the way, and they spend several hours reminiscing about old times. They go back centuries, to before Nydroth, at least, was undead. In fact, they go back further with each other than they do with Dzaram. [i]Ahh, the old days,[/i] Delilah thinks. [i]I was much more afraid then. I was worried, always worried, that Dexter would hunt me down. At least until the incident with the dragon. I should have known better. I forgot about Farenth.[/i] *** [i][b]Late spring and early summer, 97 O.L.G., Forinthia[/b][/i][b][/b] After her narrow escape from extinction at the hands of Dexter, Malford, Lochenvare and their friends, Delilah kept a low profile for months. She had few physical needs, though she did thirst for life energy. But she could not live on the run, sleeping in ditches and consigning herself to mud and filth. Delilah, as always, needed to be able to costume herself in the appropriate clothes, to apply makeup, to perfume the odor of decay that had started to rise from her body. Therefore she had to have money, and some contacts with civilization. She made those contacts with a combination of the utmost care and a remarkable brashness. On one occasion she overcame a small merchant wagon, slaying the driver and merchants and stealing clothes, gold and jewels from their bodies. This worked so well that she determined to do it again. Thus she met Billy. Billy and his bodyguards were terrified as she burst out, conjuring spiders and worse, and their morale quickly broke. They surrendered and threw themselves on the mercies of Delilah. She bound and abused them, and to her amusement, she saw that their leader- a male half-elf- became aroused while she assaulted him. She played with him for some time before demanding his name. “Billy,” he gasped as she slapped his face. She was having too much fun to simply slay him. He seemed to enjoy her sadistic attentions in a most unwholesome way. He even tried to satisfy her own twisted desires- impossible, now, as it turned out. But his enthusiastic attempts were endearing enough to keep him alive. Then, a few days into their bizarre ‘relationship,’ Delilah became aware that Billy was the scion of the second-richest family on Dorhaus. Moreover, he seemed to be genuinely falling for her. The weeks wore on, and Delilah allowed Billy more and more freedom to test him. He was thoroughly under her spell. Delilah the Delightful, Delilah the Delicious, Delilah the Delirious... Delilah the Damned. She grew to trust Billy, though warily, and finally revealed her true nature to him (having hidden it for some time with duplicity and the use of a spell she had developed, [i]inner warmth,[/i] that gave her a body temperature equal to a living human’s). He was neither appalled nor heartbroken. In fact, Billy had some very peculiar proclivities, and Delilah was perfectly suited for them. He seemed to be a genuine necrophiliac, and when they lay together, his favorite thing was for her to ‘shut off’ and lay there, cold and dead, unmoving. She was happy to oblige him; clearly, he was the ticket to a potentially very good, easy life. The money, the access to society, the potential for a distant, isolated lair- all those things appealed greatly to Delilah. So she and Billy traveled towards his home in the very capitol of Forinthia, the Halls of Light. Her sense of irony was greatly aroused by this. To lair in the center of the Light itself! Word had reached her that Dexter and his friends were back on Dorhaus; she had no enemies that she was aware of that could reach her on Forinthia. On the outskirts of the Halls of Light, in a small, isolated peasant’s hut, she met Nydroth. The necromancer was known even then as “Grisly”, though the countless experiments and bizarre crossbreeds he would later make were yet to come. Delilah recognized in the mad necromancer’s demeanor a certain arcane tendency. A few minutes of conversation confirmed it, and also informed her that Nydroth was brilliant. He had a strong focus on necromancy- perhaps helpful to a being in her state- and a sharp mind. Inquiring about his more mundane talents, Delilah convinced Billy to hire him as an architect. But disaster loomed not far ahead. *** [i][b]8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch[/b][/i][b][/b] “I wonder whatever happened to Billy,” Delilah says softly. Nydroth shrugs. “He died, I’m sure. He was only a half-elf.” She smiles absently. “Very true. I can’t help but wonder what might have happened if it wasn’t for the dragon.” Nydroth chuckles. “Well, he probably would have employed [i]me[/i] longer.” “Ah, but then you might not have joined Dzaram’s cabal.” He nods. “Speaking of which, I believe Zazou is about to perform a song.” The two rise, wine still in hand- not that either of them feel alcohol anymore- and step back into the gathering as the Yellow Bard begins to strum his lute. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] The tale of the first dragon encountered in Cydra! [/QUOTE]
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