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The Risen Goddess (Updated 3.10.08)
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<blockquote data-quote="(contact)" data-source="post: 763712" data-attributes="member: 41"><p><strong>67-Swimming Upstream</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>Taran punches Khuumar square in the mouth, his knuckles scraping across the interior face-guard of Khuumar's helm, ripping a gash in his hand. Khuumar stumbles back, a confused expression on his face.</p><p></p><p>"That's for Nathè , and <em>you're on notice</em>," Taran says, pointing his bloody finger at the drow. "Next time, you better learn who the real enemy is, or it won't be just my hand you get."</p><p></p><p>"It's a wonder your mother didn't just eat you when you were born, Tar-Ilou," Khuumar says with a sneer. "You're so . . . <em>simple</em>."</p><p></p><p>"I thought you were going to say 'whipped'," Taran says.</p><p></p><p>"That, too," Khuumar admits. "You know, you're right about Nathè , I think." Khuumar affects his best pious expression. "If I could do it over . . . I'd just kill her and sell the swords."</p><p></p><p>Taran jumps on Khuumar, and the two go to the ground before Thelbar strikes Taran across the back with his staff. "Stop it. Both of you," he demands. "Now clean up, relax and be back here by sundown-- our business is not finished."</p><p></p><p>Of course, Taran and Khuumar's business is not finished either. A few minutes after they leave Thelbar, with Juron, Glim and about thirty silent drow in attendance, Taran and Khuumar are stripped to the waist, fist-fighting in the forest snow.</p><p></p><p>The match is surprisingly even, and despite Khuumar's unfamiliarity with beating people who aren't bound hand and foot, he holds his own. Taran's rugged and concise boxing style is counter-pointed by Khuumar's long, loping swings. The drow takes the worst of the fighting at first, but soon, one of his haymaker punches connects-- Taran's legs wobble slightly and he is forced onto the defensive.</p><p></p><p>Juron and Glim cheer. The drow watch quietly.</p><p></p><p>Khuumar cannot take advantage of his opening, and a few seconds later, Taran is back on the press, using head-butts and finger-gouges to great effect. He staggers Khuumar with a severe whip-like body shot, and before you can say "my henchmen just lost 40 gold pieces", Khuumar is on the ground. Taran keeps pummeling the drow even as he falls backwards, battering him into unconsciousness.</p><p></p><p>Once Khuumar is down, Taran stands over him, and slaps him lightly until he wakes up. "Hey, Khuumar," Taran says. "Hey, wake up." Once Khuumar sits up, and he can follow Taran's finger with his eyes, Taran says, "You're a bastard, and that's what you get for talking bad about Nathè."</p><p></p><p>"She's no damn good," Khuumar says through a mouth-full of cuts, just now beginning to swell. "None of them are, Taran. I'm doing you <em>a favor</em>, you simpleton."</p><p></p><p>"You suck, Khuumar!" Juron yells.</p><p></p><p>"Yeah!" Glim agrees. "Nice dive, you bum."</p><p></p><p>-----</p><p></p><p>When they arrive back at the party's temporary quarters, Thelbar has laid the bodies of the fallen drow out on a large stone tablet. Stone grooves cut into the rock drain away the last of the blood from the now-cold corpses. The bodies have been stripped of magic and treasure, all relevant items set neatly aside.</p><p></p><p>Thelbar glances at the two mangled fighters as they enter. "Who won?" he asks.</p><p></p><p>"Who d'yhou thonk whun?" Taran asks indignantly, through the working side of his mouth.</p><p></p><p>"You look like a Calvary charge ran you over." Thelbar says.</p><p></p><p>"Yeh, bhut thook at him!" Taran says, pointing to Khuumar. </p><p></p><p>Thelbar <em>cures</em> both combatants, muttering to himself all the while. The adventurers review the looted magic items, their most likely function, and determine if any of the three of them are interested. It is a rich haul indeed. <em>Bracers of blinding strike</em> are the most valuable single item, but surprisingly, they go unclaimed. "I bet Gorquen would love those," Thelbar says. "We should take pains to share this treasure with those of our faith. After all, it will do the Goddess no good in the coffers of Thay."</p><p></p><p>Taran nods and looking over the loot says, "You know something, killing guys is like getting a free birthday. This is my present from my sword, and I'll pretend this one is from Khuumar, to say 'thanks' for kicking his ass."</p><p></p><p>"F-ck you, Tar-Ilou," Khuumar says.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, the two arguing men are silenced by a rare stillness that seems to radiate out from a point, and fix all three adventures with a profound calm. The moment stretches into an eternity, and is gone as quickly as it came. Kyreel stands before the bodies of the fallen drow, ignoring the trio of adventurers behind her. All three heroes lower their eyes, without thinking. The goddess still wears Kyreel's adventuring robe, stained at the hem with the blood of those who opposed her rebirth.</p><p></p><p>"<em>My most faithful</em>," Arunshee says. "<em>So dark, so sad.</em>" After a moment, she gestures to Matron Banare's blasted corpse. "<em>Look upon your goddess, your mother.</em>" The Matron Mother sits up suddenly, as if waking from a frightful dream-- her most mortal damage is healed, but her other wounds are not. Blood begins to rush anew from her cuts and seep through her burned and blackened skin. She winces for a moment, then looks her goddess in the eye. The Matron Mother falls to her hands and knees before Arunshee with an expression of abject terror on her face.</p><p></p><p>"Great Goddess forgive my failings," she sobs. "I have never known you."</p><p></p><p>Arunshee turns away from the old drow woman. "<em>You must find the forgiveness yourself Heshalth, for I do not absolve sin. Spend the rest of your long life thinking about your evil. Only when you are at peace with yourself may you be at peace with me. Until that time I forbid you from using either spell or weapon upon pain of eternal suffering and damnation. May you have every opportunity to succeed; if you are diligent, perhaps I shall someday give you the </em>pasoun<em>. If you fail, woe to your immortal soul.</em>"</p><p></p><p>Arunshee turns to the three adventurers. "<em>Know this, and tell it to all. Any who raise a hand against my daughter Heshalth raise a hand against me. Fear her as you would fear me, and spare her nothing that may help her become well.</em>"</p><p></p><p>Taran steps forward, and touches Nathè's corpse. "Aunt," he pleads. "I love her."</p><p></p><p>Arunshee regards him with a knowing smile. "<em>You would dash a seedling against a rock, Tar-Ilou, but I would deny you nothing this day. So be it.</em>" And with that, Nathè opens her eyes, well and strong and full of womanly vigor.</p><p></p><p>"<em>Does Tenebrous believe he can stand against us?</em>" Arunshee gestures, and the remains of the four dead drow vaporize into a fine, slightly acidic mist.</p><p></p><p>"Aunt, can I ask you something?" Taran says.</p><p></p><p>"<em>You make a false distinction.</em>"</p><p></p><p>"What? I mean, I do? I was going to ask you about attacking the adventurers who sacked our house. Would it be right? They are good, not evil."</p><p></p><p>"<em>What is good or evil? In the pasoun, such divisions are moot. There are those who are of us, and those who struggle against us.</em>"</p><p></p><p>"Yeah," Taran says. "Oh, yeah." He smiles widely. Arunshee touches his cheek, and heals the lingering marks from his recent fighting. </p><p></p><p>"<em>My eyes will be upon you at all times,</em>" she says. At that moment, a statue of Arunshee appears directly next to the artifact of Palatin Eremath. "<em>And this shall be my home. Attend me, now. <strong>A thousand mortal deaths are preferable to my disappointment.</strong></em>" And with that, she disappears. </p><p></p><p>The former Matron Mother begins to cry.</p><p></p><p>"She's do different," Khuumar says softly. "And yet, the same."</p><p></p><p>"And she likes me better than you," Taran whispers directly into Khuumar's ear. "So watch your ass and don't ever give me another reason, or next time I'll send you back to the last goddess you sold out." </p><p></p><p>Taran scoops Nathè into his arms, and twirls her around the room. "I brought you back, baby!" he chirps. "Let's dance!"</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="(contact), post: 763712, member: 41"] [b]67-Swimming Upstream[/b] Taran punches Khuumar square in the mouth, his knuckles scraping across the interior face-guard of Khuumar's helm, ripping a gash in his hand. Khuumar stumbles back, a confused expression on his face. "That's for Nathè , and [I]you're on notice[/I]," Taran says, pointing his bloody finger at the drow. "Next time, you better learn who the real enemy is, or it won't be just my hand you get." "It's a wonder your mother didn't just eat you when you were born, Tar-Ilou," Khuumar says with a sneer. "You're so . . . [I]simple[/I]." "I thought you were going to say 'whipped'," Taran says. "That, too," Khuumar admits. "You know, you're right about Nathè , I think." Khuumar affects his best pious expression. "If I could do it over . . . I'd just kill her and sell the swords." Taran jumps on Khuumar, and the two go to the ground before Thelbar strikes Taran across the back with his staff. "Stop it. Both of you," he demands. "Now clean up, relax and be back here by sundown-- our business is not finished." Of course, Taran and Khuumar's business is not finished either. A few minutes after they leave Thelbar, with Juron, Glim and about thirty silent drow in attendance, Taran and Khuumar are stripped to the waist, fist-fighting in the forest snow. The match is surprisingly even, and despite Khuumar's unfamiliarity with beating people who aren't bound hand and foot, he holds his own. Taran's rugged and concise boxing style is counter-pointed by Khuumar's long, loping swings. The drow takes the worst of the fighting at first, but soon, one of his haymaker punches connects-- Taran's legs wobble slightly and he is forced onto the defensive. Juron and Glim cheer. The drow watch quietly. Khuumar cannot take advantage of his opening, and a few seconds later, Taran is back on the press, using head-butts and finger-gouges to great effect. He staggers Khuumar with a severe whip-like body shot, and before you can say "my henchmen just lost 40 gold pieces", Khuumar is on the ground. Taran keeps pummeling the drow even as he falls backwards, battering him into unconsciousness. Once Khuumar is down, Taran stands over him, and slaps him lightly until he wakes up. "Hey, Khuumar," Taran says. "Hey, wake up." Once Khuumar sits up, and he can follow Taran's finger with his eyes, Taran says, "You're a bastard, and that's what you get for talking bad about Nathè." "She's no damn good," Khuumar says through a mouth-full of cuts, just now beginning to swell. "None of them are, Taran. I'm doing you [I]a favor[/I], you simpleton." "You suck, Khuumar!" Juron yells. "Yeah!" Glim agrees. "Nice dive, you bum." ----- When they arrive back at the party's temporary quarters, Thelbar has laid the bodies of the fallen drow out on a large stone tablet. Stone grooves cut into the rock drain away the last of the blood from the now-cold corpses. The bodies have been stripped of magic and treasure, all relevant items set neatly aside. Thelbar glances at the two mangled fighters as they enter. "Who won?" he asks. "Who d'yhou thonk whun?" Taran asks indignantly, through the working side of his mouth. "You look like a Calvary charge ran you over." Thelbar says. "Yeh, bhut thook at him!" Taran says, pointing to Khuumar. Thelbar [I]cures[/I] both combatants, muttering to himself all the while. The adventurers review the looted magic items, their most likely function, and determine if any of the three of them are interested. It is a rich haul indeed. [I]Bracers of blinding strike[/I] are the most valuable single item, but surprisingly, they go unclaimed. "I bet Gorquen would love those," Thelbar says. "We should take pains to share this treasure with those of our faith. After all, it will do the Goddess no good in the coffers of Thay." Taran nods and looking over the loot says, "You know something, killing guys is like getting a free birthday. This is my present from my sword, and I'll pretend this one is from Khuumar, to say 'thanks' for kicking his ass." "F-ck you, Tar-Ilou," Khuumar says. Suddenly, the two arguing men are silenced by a rare stillness that seems to radiate out from a point, and fix all three adventures with a profound calm. The moment stretches into an eternity, and is gone as quickly as it came. Kyreel stands before the bodies of the fallen drow, ignoring the trio of adventurers behind her. All three heroes lower their eyes, without thinking. The goddess still wears Kyreel's adventuring robe, stained at the hem with the blood of those who opposed her rebirth. "[I]My most faithful[/I]," Arunshee says. "[I]So dark, so sad.[/I]" After a moment, she gestures to Matron Banare's blasted corpse. "[I]Look upon your goddess, your mother.[/I]" The Matron Mother sits up suddenly, as if waking from a frightful dream-- her most mortal damage is healed, but her other wounds are not. Blood begins to rush anew from her cuts and seep through her burned and blackened skin. She winces for a moment, then looks her goddess in the eye. The Matron Mother falls to her hands and knees before Arunshee with an expression of abject terror on her face. "Great Goddess forgive my failings," she sobs. "I have never known you." Arunshee turns away from the old drow woman. "[I]You must find the forgiveness yourself Heshalth, for I do not absolve sin. Spend the rest of your long life thinking about your evil. Only when you are at peace with yourself may you be at peace with me. Until that time I forbid you from using either spell or weapon upon pain of eternal suffering and damnation. May you have every opportunity to succeed; if you are diligent, perhaps I shall someday give you the [/i]pasoun[i]. If you fail, woe to your immortal soul.[/I]" Arunshee turns to the three adventurers. "[I]Know this, and tell it to all. Any who raise a hand against my daughter Heshalth raise a hand against me. Fear her as you would fear me, and spare her nothing that may help her become well.[/I]" Taran steps forward, and touches Nathè's corpse. "Aunt," he pleads. "I love her." Arunshee regards him with a knowing smile. "[I]You would dash a seedling against a rock, Tar-Ilou, but I would deny you nothing this day. So be it.[/I]" And with that, Nathè opens her eyes, well and strong and full of womanly vigor. "[I]Does Tenebrous believe he can stand against us?[/I]" Arunshee gestures, and the remains of the four dead drow vaporize into a fine, slightly acidic mist. "Aunt, can I ask you something?" Taran says. "[I]You make a false distinction.[/I]" "What? I mean, I do? I was going to ask you about attacking the adventurers who sacked our house. Would it be right? They are good, not evil." "[I]What is good or evil? In the pasoun, such divisions are moot. There are those who are of us, and those who struggle against us.[/I]" "Yeah," Taran says. "Oh, yeah." He smiles widely. Arunshee touches his cheek, and heals the lingering marks from his recent fighting. "[I]My eyes will be upon you at all times,[/I]" she says. At that moment, a statue of Arunshee appears directly next to the artifact of Palatin Eremath. "[I]And this shall be my home. Attend me, now. [b]A thousand mortal deaths are preferable to my disappointment.[/b][/I]" And with that, she disappears. The former Matron Mother begins to cry. "She's do different," Khuumar says softly. "And yet, the same." "And she likes me better than you," Taran whispers directly into Khuumar's ear. "So watch your ass and don't ever give me another reason, or next time I'll send you back to the last goddess you sold out." Taran scoops Nathè into his arms, and twirls her around the room. "I brought you back, baby!" he chirps. "Let's dance!" [/QUOTE]
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