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PostPosted: Tue Jan 08, 2008 1:47 am 
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A drow priestess slithered through the passageways of a cavern, an exotic journey that hadn’t grown any less easy through multiple attempts. She had heard from elder matrons that an abandoned temple of Lolth lay somewhere deep in the Underdark, yet the rumor didn’t ring true.

A temple abandoned by Lolth? That doesn’t sound like the Goddess she had come to fear, respect and serve. Destroyed, maybe, but not abandoned. As she made her way searching, she found a small hole. She cast a light spell, and looked down the hole to see how deep it went. She couldn’t see the bottom. Excited, the priestess tried to crawl through the opening, but it was simply too tiny.

After some thought, she decided to summon an imp. Simple-minded creatures, charming in their own way, but so simple. Trusting one, however, was different matter. Her prayer completed, she quickly gave the lesser creature specific instructions. Curious as to why the fiendish creature was so compliant, she sent it through the miniscule passage to search whatever was on the other side…

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Dumathoin: Keeper of Secrets under the Mountain


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 09, 2008 2:31 pm 
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For having waited far too long, the drow priestess grew irritated at the imp’s incompetence. "What was taking so long?" There were numerous possibilities, she thought. The imp could have betrayed her, died in accident, died of stupidity, or was simply hiding. Any way, the imp wasn’t coming back.

Frustrated, she began to prepare for her trip back to Menzoduran, when she heard a faint sound coming from the hole. She turned back to see that the imp, surprisingly, had returned. As she briskly walked over to see what was taking it so long to get out of the hole, she inspected the imp. It was bleeding and bruised, but then she noticed the foul creature was carrying something. “Give me what you are carrying,” commanded the drow. As best he could, the imp wearily held up what appeared to be a tome. After snatching it from his hands, the imp fell to the floor out of fatigue.

Merrily, she put the imp out of its misery. By way of a very prolonged use of a certain spell she favored, which causes the insides of one's body to be drawn out of all the orifices of their body, and then carefully examined the tome. Across the cover it read ‘The Tome of the Assassin’, in a familiar but otherwordly, language.

Carefully making her way back to Menzoduran, whilst browsing the tome, the priestess huskily murmured, “So the imp did prove useful…mmm…very useful, indeed.” For she knew that with knowledge comes power, and power was something she insatiably craved. "If there is anything I worship more than Lolth, it would definitely be power”, she mused. An epiphany occurred to her while perusing the tome, “I always knew that my destiny was linked to the Spider Queen, but now it is manifest. With this new found power for the Legion, the Dark Mother will reward me with glory unimaginable!"

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 06, 2008 10:55 am 
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“Sumthin’s need be done, I tell ye!” , argued one dwarf miner to the other, as they were working a vein of ore. “Bah, taint’ nuthin can’t be fixed, when tha clan chiefs put thur mugs t’gether and werk on it.”, countered the other. With a look that would sour a perfect brew, the first miner simply stated, “Knuhb, ye were’nt thar when Bhormin got hit…so, yar opin’n be worthless.” Knuhb thought mightily for something to say…*5 minutes pass*…he thought hard again…*2 minutes pass*…and with a shrug of his shoulders he forgot what he was going to say.

As this time passed the first miner played over in his mind, the events that led to Bhormin’s demise. With his head hung low, he thought. *It was an efficient day of work’n tha mines. Me and Bhormin were tap’n a deep vein in one o’ the outer tunnels. Bhormin had even discovered it! Tho he was just a gnome, he shur seemed to have a divine talent for feel’n gems an such. Been at it all day, and was ‘bout to load up an head back. Dangit, I shoulda felt tha presence o’ that stupid darkie, but tha headache from all o’ Bhormin’s chatterin’ had me all d'stracted an want’n a drink. Odd how it happen’d...I felt a silence, and ah heard an intake o’ breath. I thought was jus’ me partner prepar’n for more flap’n, but it wernt. I turn’d to look at him, and ah seen a tip o’ metal poke’n out tha front of his chest! Eyes bulg’n and skin melt’n an peel’n he just stared at me! White eyes an teeth, was all could see from behind him. Then…gone! I ran…still cannae believe...I ran. Kord didna call me a coward when I made report, but I could see it in his face, and tha set o’ his beard. He all but said...“Hargllin, yer ah coward.” But he didna need to, I felt it from ‘em, and ah still feels it from meself.*

Finally, Knuhb blurted out, “Ya know, yar rite. Our water supply been hit, ovar two dozen miner’s been kill'd, an no tell’n how many our fighters ‘as got backstabb'd. Somethin’s got ta be...duh...*silence*...”Aaullhhkk!”

Hargllin immediately knew what was happening. Anger, caused by thinking about his last partners death, and the sudden appearance of an unnatural silence and dread combined within him to a blood boiling effect. A rage, he didn’t know he was capable of, caused him to react with strength born of pure passion. Time slowed to a crawl, and with vision so acute it hurt his eyes, his miners hammer slid from his hand. All in the space of one heartbeat, Hargllin drew his rock pick from his belt, compressed his body like a spring and leaped straight towards his doomed partner. Totally ignoring the gruesome visage of his newest mining comrade, he swung his rock pick directly around the backside of Knuhb’s rapidly decomposing head. “Die, Spiderkisser!”, Hargllin roared! *Shiinck*

Blood pounding, mind racing and his eyes wide open, he slowed the flow of his mighty swing just as the pick hit the side tunnel wall. “Wha’? Nuthin thar...gone?” Words, that fell limply from his lips. Wits slowly returning, he took a moment to take stock of the situation. “Poor ole Knuhb, or tha mess dat’s left of ‘im anyway”, he thought, lay in front of his boots with the dagger that killed him still in his back. "Cap'n Kord'll be want'n that drow dagger, I'll wager", he said to himself. The feeling of dread and silence was gone. His pick was stuck two fingerwidths deep beside a gem, that his partner had just been working on, in the tunnel wall.

A triumphant smile slowly crept across Hargllin’s face as he reached to retrieve his pick. A dark, dainty, pointy and very elven nose was impaled towards the end of his pick. “Heh, I be no coward, and thar’s a drow dat’s be no looker, now! Har, har, har!” , he laughed, as he pulled the mining tool from the wall. The gem fell and landed with a *thunk* on his boot.

A black nose and a red gem in his pocket, his work cart loaded with mining tools and Knuhb’s remains, Hargllin Nosebane set a stout pace back to Ragnar’s Kin to make a report...and to ask for a different line of work.

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