"Duchess Ferach leaned forward on her Chair, the Obsidian of the armrests nearly indistinguishable from her own ebony skin. It was hard to see where the bas-relief of the Throne ended and the intricate jewelry on her arms began.
To the assembled members of the House, she seemed a Spider, poised for the attack.
Grolvus fidgeted, he wanted away, the Duchess was Evil. Grolvus was nervous, he wanted much gold, much jewels, but often he questioned his decision to serve the Drow. Perhaps he should have stayed in Unkermark, the Goblin City where he was reared. No matter, there was no escaping service to a House once you joined. Grolvus hated standing here, no…he…he was dutiful and awaited the Duchess. They could read your thoughts. They Were True Evil. A series of pokes from Arngen, the only Drow Grolvus trusted, told him of his peril unless he was still. He stilled as only his Folk could.
Arngen poked the Bugbear in the side with his finger. Two quick pokes followed by a three fingered press 'Stop-Silent' in the Drow Silent Tongue, The bugbear stopped fidgeting, realizing his peril perhaps. Arngen threw a sidelong glance at Gentaria…why did that Bitch come to the Summons. Arngen hated her more than any other Ferach, and he hated most. A weak-willed brat, in her sister's shadow, although she was a talented Cleric, was Gentaria. Arngen saw whatever the Duchess wanted from him as a chance to better his lot in the House. Oh, to have been born into House Saerenlu, where the Females knew their proper place…Careful, he thought to himself, the Duchess was not known as the Lady of Secrets for nothing. An accomplished Sorceress as well as a Priestess of the Spider Queen, Rimphoria was renowned and feared throughout the City as a diviner of Secrets of the Mind. Arngen smiled, though he stood still all the while. Yes, the dutiful Servant suited him, for a time at least.
Gentaria fumed, although she said absolutely nothing. Arngen was here as well. What did Mother need with that pathetic male. Some day Enraela would rule House Ferach, and then she would be her Second. Then Arngen would die a slow death at her hands.
She and Enraela were more than adequate for whatever Mother needed. Perhaps along with the Hobgoblin standing to her right, someone had to die for the House, and she didn't plan on dying any time soon. Yes, the brute and his Second were a necessary acquiesce to the Situation (as the Nobles referred to the viscous Civil War that stilled smoldered, if not flared within their Society). Gentaria had admiration for the Brutes, much like she held for her beloved Spiders, although a Hobgoblin was far less useful or important than a Spider, of course. A scuttling in her long white hair brought a smile to Gentaria's face. The Crolvus (a small pet spider common to the Drow Nobles, about the size of a black widow) had just mated. Another minor movement must be the last throes of the male, as she sank her fangs into him. Gentaria grinned inwardly, yes, Spiders knew how to deal with males, and they were good for only two things. Propagating the species and then Dying.
Brogark blanched, though he did not move, the smells in the Throne room were disgusting. Incense, he hated incense. The smoke dulled the nose, which should be ever ready for the smell of the assassin, the all too quick scent of encroaching fire, the putrid stench of the Troglodyte. Looking about him, Brogark saw a Bugbear that he did not know. A big one was he, he also seemed to be having a hard time standing still; that was bad, and as the last person to disrupt Rimphoria's Court ended up slowly being flayed alive, the bugbear had better shape up. Near at hand was a Drow that Brogark feared almost as much as Rimphoria, Enraela Ferach, the sadistic daughter of the Duchess. Brogark knew of her recent failed mission in the Caverns of Borog, where her party was ambushed and nearly killed by the Troglodyte tribe that laired there. He knew, too, of the fate of her brother (who had been one of the more sensible Drow (if that was possible) that he had met .At least he was a Warrior Brogark thought as he looked on.
Enraela waited like the Priestess she was. Composure was one of her better traits, as well as an unnatural ability to know when people were plotting against her. Her little sister stood nearby, her adoration useful for the time being. Her hatred of males was amusing, if not practical. Arngen waited nearer still, the smell of him still upon her from their trysting just prior to the Summons. His 'Hound', as she referred to the Bugbear, stood in front and to the left of him, a look of fear displayed upon his brutish features. Perhaps he was not as stupid as she had thought. Brogark and his Second were there as well. Enraela liked nobody, least of all a Hobgoblin, yet she saw his worth, and admired his dedication to the House. She would make sure that he was still around when she ascended to power. When she ascended to power, that had a nice ring to it. Mother had no plans to relinquish her throne as of now, but things change, things progress, so Lolth taught. Conflict and Strife were the natural Order. Perhaps one day Mother would have an accident or make a fatal mistake during a Ceremony. Enraela would be there to step in. Smiling wickedly to herself, the Priestess looked up as a spindly male entered and approached the throne. It was Wesellu, the disgusting little Wizard that had been Yrtchull's closest ally. She knew he plotted her Death, yet his fear of her kept him from acting. Like all males, he was dull and placid. That would be his downfall, as she would relish torturing him before a very slow death, once she had caught him and all of his other Conspirators in the circle of males who had been plotting her own demise. For now, she would let him live; he served the House dutifully, at least.
Wesellu approached nervously, the Duchess was a Cruel and fickle Female, if not an irrational one. She had seen the Wisdom of his Dream. She knew that his inclusion was necessary, since it was his Dream in the first place that began this Mission. The Dream: Wesellu remembered it vividly, the river, the stairs of darkest green, extending upwards so long it seemed that they went on Forever, the Silver Door…
The door was the Key': the Philosopher's Stone in all of this. Whatever waited beyond the Door, calling to him, that was what would save Ferach, he knew it.
Thinking back to his Audience yesterday, Wesellu quailed a moment then moved forward again.
Rimphoria had listened to him and had even seemed interested. The Audience he had been granted just after his Dream was the most terrified that he had ever had, the Duchess listened, her fingers idly caressing her 'Displeasure', the infamous knife (some say forged from the Souls of the Damned in the Abyss) that she had used thousands of times over the years on those gaining her Disfavor. The floor in front of her Throne was slick with blood, this staining his boots as he stood and told her of the Dream, it's details, even the parts that seemed odd and disjointed. When he had finished, the Duchess had spoke, a quiet and succinct sentence.
'Well, this intrigues me, take a small group, say 7 others, and explore this Dream of yours, Seer.'
Wesellu was ecstatic, he would show the Duchess his worth, and the Dream would prove his Step-Stone to power. And that's when the Duchess shattered his Reverie.
'My daughter Enraela will lead this expedition, you will advise her. You may go now.'
This was an Order, no matter how casually spoken, and Wesellu hastened to go.
Enraela, who had so recently murdered her own brother to facilitate her own escape from an enemy.
Wesellu had no illusions about his own chances of survival on this mission should things go badly. Wesellu glanced about at the assembled group, he did not Lead them, yet his was the Fault should things go badly. The Duchess waved a finger and a massive form stepped from the back of the room, moving up to stand beside her Throne. It was Jikull, the Half-Ogre Gladiator that Rimphoria favored (some say in a very Carnal manner as well). The brute looked at the assembled group and then his eyes settled on Vitrene Ferach.
Vitrene's eyes rolled back and forth, he wanted out of the Chamber. He felt like a Spider trapped in an even bigger Spider's web. The Duchess had 'invited' him along on some mission or other, obviously because she knew of his feelings about her and her Damned Spider Goddess. Vitrene was going to leave this very morning, a place in House Saerenlu assured, as he had several important bits of information on Ferach's Holdings. Now he was doomed, probably to Die in an 'accident' like the one that killed the Duchess' son Yrtchull last week. Gods, this was going to turn out badly.
The Duchess finally spoke, dissipating the palpable tension in the Chamber.
Several Nobles edged closer quietly, for to miss her words (and she liked to whisper in a barely audible voice so as to have excuse for torturing those who weren't paying attention to her) was Death. "We have an Opportunity," the group listened, rapt.
"Our fine Wizard here," this said with Distaste, indicating Wesellu, "has Divined that within a Smertcha (a common word for the Grey Dwarves, it also means Vermin) Ruin down the Hogrelk River lies something that might turn our Fortunes as a House around. As you all know, since the Death of our Beloved Queen, Ferach has not fared well. Treacherous Salurath has claimed much of our Rightful Lands, our Attack on Resperetch drained resources and many hungry eyes look to Ferach as the next to fall. I would have it otherwise, and so, I have decided to act upon Wesellu's Dream."
The Duchess took in the group before her.
"Enraela and Gentaria are my Beloved daughters, and Priestesses of the Holy Mother Lolth, and thus they are in charge of this Mission. Arngen Delushani and his 'Companion'…" A Noble leaned in and whispered something, "Ah, Grolvus (this said with distaste for the harsh word on her tongue) will accompany for Scouting and Stealth.
I have been told as well, that Arngen has Maps showing many features regarding the Path. Do not fail me, or our House, Arngen.
Wesellu, of course, knows the Signs and Features of the Dream, and thus of the Mission.
"Ah my Brogark." Rimphoria smiled wickedly, "My dutiful Hobgoblin Captain shall accompany to ensure that things go well. He is an accomplished Warrior, Loyal to our House with conviction that I sometimes wish you all (she gestures to the assembled Drow) showed. No matter, with him along I feel more confident in a successful outcome.
But I believe that some addition is in order."
Rimphoria turned a Baleful eye upon one Male Drow busy skulking near the back of the group, with several Female Guards standing behind him.
"Ah, Vitrene, my Nephew, you too, I believe, will go on this Mission to ensure that the interests of the House are met. I have recently heard rumors of unrest in several areas within my House. I would hope that you can inform me of any traitors, do you feel up to this?" Rimphoria fingered her ever-present Displeasure visibly, the knife slick with blood from the last victim (who still twitched and moaned in the background, where he was discarded for her later attentions).
"Yes, my Beloved Duchess," Vitrene steadied himself, regaining his composure, bowing and then standing straight at attention once again.
"Good, well, just in case there are any Traitors within the group…" The form of Jikull stepped down from the Platform, moving to stand directly behind a visibly pale Vitrene.
"Jikull, make sure that Vitrene returns intact from this Mission, you will be well rewarded." There was such a lewd cast to the last statement that even the unsubtle Bugbear raised a startled brow.
"Yes, my Mistress" was the Half-Ogre's reply.
Rimphoria sighed and waved her hand. "Leave my Presence now." Urtoth will give you the details of the Mission."
The form of Urtoth the Seneschal stepped forward, his manner brusque. "Follow me, and do keep up."
Following the Servant out of the Chamber, the group passes several contingents of soldiers shoring up holes in the wall, or replacing flagstones in the floors and chambers. These were tough times, and everyone was expected to help wherever the House needed.
After a long walk of nearly 20 minutes, they had wended their way down several staircases, a few unknown even to Enraela and Gentaria. Ending in a small chamber lit dimly by phosphorescent fungi, the Seneschal turned once again to the assembled group.
"I don't have to tell all of you how important this Mission may be to the House. Do not fail the Mistress."
Urtoth indicated several packs near a small iron door. Take these packs, they contain additional gear. As well, there is a boat waiting at the Quay on the Hogrelk River. The tunnel past that door will take you out under the Outer Wall and into the cover of the Lerondyl Forest (a Giant Mushroom forest to the South of the City). The River trip is an estimated 40 Miles, and several of you possess the skills needed to Navigate it. Besides that, we have a Boatman at the river already to Pilot for you. May Lolth be with you."
Urtoth turns and departs, leaving you all with the sound of dripping water and the pungent smell of Mold.
Each of you receives the following Gear Package
Backpack containing
1 Week Trail Rations, 2 Water skins (full),
4 torches, 2 flaks of oil,
Tinder Twigs (6), 50' spidersilk rope & grapnel,
1 potion cure moderate wounds 2D8+3 (clearly labeled)
1 potion cure light wounds 1D8+1 (clearly labeled)