(Cydra) Delilah's Story

This story hour will trace the evolution of a group of villainous pcs and npcs over time, starting with Delilah the Damned. Those of you who read my Early Years SH will be familiar with her, and those of you who read my Great Conflicts SH will have just seen her recently at the conference of spellcasters. This thread will fill in, in broad arcs, the 270-odd years in between. For the rest of you, Delilah the Damned is a conjuress who became undead in a dark ritual to her god, Bleak. Also, this story hour takes place in the bygone days of 2nd edition.

If you're interested, here are the links to the related story hours (the Great Conflicts link goes to the start of the conference).

Cydra: the Early Years
(Cydra) Great Conflicts: the spellcasters' conference begins

FAIR WARNING: This thread explores some vile subjects- actions taken by pcs who would certainly be considered 'vile' (by the BoVD). If you are easily offended, turn back now, before it is too late.

Delilah's Tale- part I

8/1/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch

Delilah the Damned strips the beautiful dress she was wearing off. With a contented sigh, she runs her hands over the naked curves of the body she wears. She loves feeling warm again.

Delilah smiles languidly as she steps into a cage of adamant bars, taking only her spell component pouch with her. Outside, the githyanki jailers close the locks, and then Delilah releases her hold, returning to the magic jar that holds the woman’s soul. The switch takes only an instant, and the naked woman collapses, sobbing, in her cage. Delilah transfers back to her true, undead body, and teleports to her boudoir.

It is always slightly depressing to be in her real body. The spark of life, the verve of living flesh is something she cannot match as an undead. She has tried, Bleak knows; even hundreds of years ago, not so long after the fight with Dexter, she had tried, crafting the spell inner warmth to aid in her seductions. Delilah’s Cheshire grin spreads across her face. She has always been an intensely sensual creature, and she has always needed to be gratified. The utter inability to achieve satisfaction as an undead was torment for years, until she achieved the mastery necessary to control a herd of women (and, later, men) who she could possess at will.

Of course, allying with Dzaram the Lich, and thus gaining access to an astral fortress run by githyanki, didn’t hurt either.

***

Later they come together for the first time since the end of the caster’s conference. Delilah and her close allies, a cabal of villains of incredible power and uncertain desires, together represent an immense arcane power. In fact, ironically, even Delilah does not know their goals. Only Dzaram understands the schemes they are perpetrating. Only Dzaram knows why they have aided the Forinthian Empire, servants of Galador, god of the Light, so much over the centuries.

Well, one piece of the picture became clear when Dzaram put Prayzose on the throne.

Nonetheless, Delilah glances sideways at her master, Dzaram. He is a short, dark-haired man. No one could tell by looking that he is a lich. Indeed, to look upon him, one sees only a man garbed in respectable green clothes. He looks wholly unremarkable.

Delilah knows better. After all, Dzaram carries a tarrasque in his pocket.

Nydroth- “Grisly” to many- is there as well, stinking of unwashed flesh and the taint of dead meat. His clothing crawls with vermin. He cackles frequently, his vulture clutching his bony shoulder. His recently-constructed staff of necromancy is clutched in his hand. Behind him is his newest quickling crossbreed- merged with spider eaters, he raves, and they can paralyze enemies with incredible speed.

Zazou is looking out the window, strumming his lute. The Yellow Bard, as he calls himself these days, seems uncomfortable near the death knight Ominous, an undead githyanki blackguard of unfriendly aspect with the orichalcum teeth of the devourer in his belly. For a moment, Delilah thinks of Jerakai Ilmixie, tiefling ally from long ago, long dead. She is feeling quite reflective. The group discusses the outcome of the caster’s conference; Dzaram feels that it is a constructive engagement. The others, naturally, concur. If there was something wrong with Dzaram’s opinion, they would feel free to voice it, but there usually isn’t. He’s brilliant, after all.

After Nydroth’s report on his current experiments- he’s trying to replicate some of Felenga’s more interesting constructions- Ominous tells them of the progress he is making on conquering some rather far-flung islands. Apparently, the locals are able to duck and hide fairly well, forcing the combat into poor terrain and giving themselves all the advantages. Despite the challenges, however, he obviously relishes the level of slaughter he is allowed to perpetrate.

Then Delilah rattles off a report about her newest research; unfortunately, one avenue she was researching has reached a dead end, but another shows promise. Her desire to take control of summoned creatures of others burns bright within her.

Afterward, the group mingles. Delilah drinks tasteless wine, sitting pensively, thinking again about Dexter.

Dexter- now worshiped as a deity by many of the masses- was Delilah’s arch-foe when she was alive, and then when she first turned undead. She remembers him vividly: an acne-faced snot-nosed kid, branded and scarred by the Inquisition. She and her friends attacked him- attempted to slay him- but failed. Only she survived, at least to the best of her knowledge, and only by virtue of being undead and not needing to breathe. She fled into the sea that day, staying under water until she had walked for miles and the danger had passed.

Ah, how bitter she was! Delilah thinks back.....

****

4/18/97 O.L.G., 11: 30 p.m., the shores of Forinthia

Once she reached shore, Delilah had already determined that it was time to lay low. Dexter and Malford and their crew might come after me at any time! she seethed. Fear raced through her; if she had a pulse, it would have pounded.

Already, in her mind, she was working on the outlines of a spell to defend her and any allies she might seek from Dexter’s mental powers. The accursed psionicist, she thought bitterly. Chanti- you should have attacked him directly, without stopping to engage their stupid paladin and that brute fighter! Grief welled up in her momentarily, but it was half-artificial.

I am cold now, she realized. My undead flesh will never kindle as it once did. Passions require the flowing of blood. And I must be very, very careful or I will be destroyed.

Slowly, she began moving inland.

the Jester said:

After all, Dzaram carries a tarrasque in his pocket.

Click to expand...

And I thought he was just happy to see me.

Hmm, should have mentioned this in the opening post- BEWARE! This thread is all about villains and will explore some areas of their psyches that might be disturbing. Call them 'mature' or 'vile,' those events will be there, as they were in the game.

This thread is not recommended for young kids or the easily offended, in other words.

Delilah's Story II

8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch

“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. Since I became undead.

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 inner warmth 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.

Ahh, the old days, Delilah thinks. 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.

***

Late spring and early summer, 97 O.L.G., Forinthia

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, inner warmth, 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.

***

8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch

“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 me 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.

Next Time: The tale of the first dragon encountered in Cydra!

More way kewl shiz from the J

Read this the other day, and now after the 2nd post I gotta give it a thumbs up.

I like the style of current discussions triggering reminisces. I take it most of the posts will be in this format?

I think you should put NC-17 in your sig for this one.

That b**ch be Crazy!

omrob said:

Read this the other day, and now after the 2nd post I gotta give it a thumbs up.

Click to expand...

Hey, thanks!

omrob said:

I like the style of current discussions triggering reminisces. I take it most of the posts will be in this format?

Click to expand...

Probably, at least for Delilah's part. My intent is to explore the 'villains' of Cydra (quite a relative term, I know), especially the pcs, in this thread: Delilah, Jerakai, Nydroth, etc. I hope to show most of their 'on-camera' moments and maybe fill in some backstory for their off-camera time that has had an effect on other pcs.

omrob said:

I think you should put NC-17 in your sig for this one.

Click to expand...

Beat ya to it!

You know, of course, that Delilah was played by Celeste...

Very kool J. Just read the 2 posts. Keep em comin.

Enter Mabrack!

8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch

“Did you get a chance to talk to Mabrack?” Nydroth asks Delilah the Damned.

She smiles. “Only very briefly.”

“Had you seen him in the intervening time?”

“Never,” she replies. “He had left his isle for some time by the time you all came and rescued me.”

“And now he fights for Chaos,” the necromancer muses. He shakes his head. “He would be a great addition to our cabal.”

“He has too many compunctions and qualms,” a new voice interjects.

Delilah and Nydroth turn and greet their master: Dzaram, the Lich of Forinthia. To all appearances he is an unremarkable human.* He is short of stature, with well-cropped black hair that is impeccably groomed. He is clad in a shirt of green silk and trousers of a darker, coarser material, both without ornamentation. Rings stud his fingers. A thick black belt holds the center together. A black cloak hangs from his back. His eyes appear to be blue.

How is it that he looks alive? Nydroth wonders for the billionth time. He himself is a lich, taught the secret formula for the elixir by Dzaram himself; but the master has never revealed that secret to his apprentices. And despite his incredible power, Nydroth never for a moment doubts that Dzaram is, indeed, the master.

“But surely,” Delilah suggests, “if we could turn him to evil... perhaps infect him with vampirism or...”

“No,” Dzaram says firmly. “It would be a terrible and tragic mistake. It would undermine our unity. He is as constant a supporter of Chaos as exists. He has died for it, and would again. We would never have an easy time keeping him among us.” Dzaram quirks a small smile. “Also, he has many influential friends. Remember, he is of the Delphinate now.”

Delilah leans back with a soft sigh and a pout. “As always, you are right, Dzaram.”

He sits by them. “You have met him before, have you not, Delilah?” he asks.

She nods in response. “It was not far before my encounter with the dragon,” she says. “In fact, my meeting with him led me directly to the dragon.”

Dzaram gestures, and a platter of fried larvae floats over to them. He plucks one from it and begins delicately chewing. “Tell me,” he commands.

***

Late summer, 97 O.L.G., through early 98 O.L.G.

Delilah, of course, could not resist the curiosity when she heard tales of an isle rising from the sea. Several of the merchant ships belonging to Billy’s family had seen a new isle in a well-charted area where no isle should have been. Billy, himself very curious about the isle’s nature and commercial potential, was easily persuaded to send Delilah, Grisly and Billy’s bodyguard Kevin to the isle.

The amazing amount of resources at Billy's disposal made taking a ship towards the isle easy. From about two miles away, they dropped into a small boat and sailed towards the small island. It was rocky, with many barnacles, muscles and other sea creatures evident on its surface. Other areas were already growing grass and sapling trees of respectable size. A long sandy beach offered easy access to the isle- and a large structure of some sort came into view near the far end of the beach.

“Aha,” Delilah said dryly.

Delilah, Nydroth and Kevin headed ashore, dragging their boat up the beach and concealing it among the rocks. Then they proceeded toward the structure.

That is when the dog came outside.

And it was enormous.

A friendly-looking yellow dog, wagging its powerful tail and just waiting to knock something over, bounded towards them. The incongruous thing was its immense size- it was probably 12’ high at the shoulder. Delilah looked on in shock as it ran towards them, tongue lolling, until it stopped right in front of Nydroth-

And licked him.

The great tongue knocked the filthy necromancer down, his vulture rising from his shoulders with a caw of displeasure. Nydroth found the front of his body suddenly soaked with dog saliva. “Aaagh!” he cried, disgusted.

A loud whistle from the structure caught Delilah’s attention, and she whirled towards it, preparing to cast conjure spider. But she stopped in near-awe as a humungous, 25’ tall giant with sea-green hair and light blue skin stepped forth, a staff in hand. He called out a few words in a tongue she did not understand, but it became instantly clear what he said as the dog bounded away towards him.

Then, in Forinthian, he called out, “Greeting! I am Mabrack the storm giant! Please, tell me who you are.”

“I am Delilah the Delicious,” the conjuress replied with a curtsy, raising the hem of her robes. She gave him a languid smile.

“I am called Grisly,” the necromancer said shortly.

Kevin, too, introduced himself, and after a few wary moments Mabrack offered his hospitality to Delilah’s band. “Come in and have something to eat and drink. I’ll cut you something small and pour you a few drops!”

Once inside the ‘structure’- merely the giant’s house- it became more than clear that Mabrack was a student of the arcane. When Nydroth and Delilah inquired about it, Mabrack admitted that he had raised the isle himself, with magic, and with more magic (and the aid of friends) he was rapidly growing a surface ecosystem into place.

Soon the conversation turned in a different direction, however. Mabrack seemed to know many arcane secrets- including the location of something called a ‘sea gate’.

“It’s a place in the sea, very hard to detect, that sends you through to another place,” he explained. “Sometimes they lead a far distance- thousands of miles or even more.”

Their interest was piqued. He offered to take them to a sea gate at some point if they so desired.

***

8/2/371 O.L.G., the astral fortress Hiktakka Getsch

Dzaram interjects. “Did he tell you how he could detect the sea gates?”

Delilah nods. “He had a spell, called reveal sea gate. It was of the fifth sphere of power.”

“Impressive.” Dzaram nods. “Tell me your impressions of him, then versus at the conference.”

Delilah thinks for a moment. Then, slowly, she says, “He seems less cocky and sure of himself now. Back then he was pretty devil-may-care- I mean, he raised an island up! That attracts attention. When I talked to him at the conference he seemed warier, too- probably because of our reputations.” She smiles sweetly.

”But fundamentally the same?” Dzaram asks. She nods.

The Lich of Forinthia looks pensive for a moment. He is mulling the cost versus benefit of slaying Mabrack and feeding him to Ominous’ metal mouth. But the Delphinate factor makes him very reluctant to act directly. Not that he couldn’t defeat them, just that it would be very, very difficult.

Nothing in his demeanor reflects his thoughts. “Continue,” he says, motioning for Delilah to speak on.

Next Time: Delilah goes through a sea gate!

*In fact, he looks a great deal like the singer Paul Simon in about 1988 or thereabouts.

Just a note before today's forthcoming update: in Cydra, dragons are worshipped as gods. There are only a few of them out there, and in general, if there is a dragon withing a few thousand miles, you know about it.

At the point in the campaign of Delilah's early exploits, the following dragons were 'known' to the pcs:

Brespicacious the amethyst dragon (on Valonia)
Ferax the red dragon (Strogass, extremely old and dangerous)
Lithos the black dragon (Dorhaus, been asleep and unseen for several hundred years)
Armaud the copper dragon (the Parrot Isles)
Cirrus the cloud dragon (a cloud castle somewhere)
Gnarichlor the green dragon (far to the north somewhere- eventually revealed as Azar)

There was also another dragon in the campaign that was masquerading as a human. (If I told you who it might be a spoiler for the Early Years stuff.)

Edit: there was even, now that I think about it, what amounted to a 2e prestige class, the dragon priest.