Aversion to Conversion

Aversion to Conversion

“At least I don’t have to beg for my powers,” Alak slurred at me. His black bald head drooped down to his chest in a momentary lapse of consciousness. I stared at Amearia’s apprentice, aghast at what he had said. What male would dare talk that way to me? I looked past him at Amearia, who sat on the other side of Alak on the stone bench. She shrugged and looked away, swinging her white braid in an arc around her head. The female mage stood up from the bench to go to the bar, her robes and piwafwi floating around her. I looked to my brother for assistance, but the rogue was very intent on some bit of parchment and wasn’t paying any mind to his surroundings.

My brother was shrouded in garish secrecy always. He, Loki, wore his own enchanted black cloak tightly around himself, and his face was overshadowed by his large brimmed violet hat, black plumage shooting off one side. It was like one of those hats the surface pirates wore. It certainly was gaudy. His fingers were adorned with a plethora of rings: gold, silver, platinum, ruby, emerald, lapis lazuli, and all of them likely were imbued with some magical capability. It was tragic that he covered himself so; he was undeniably handsome. He was tall for a drow, lean, and had a very angular, sinister face.

So my brother ignored me, looking at whatever piece of top secret information gotten from Bregan D’aerthe. I looked at the still passed out mage apprentice, anger rising up my throat, a burning bile that had to be neutralized. I placed my delicate hand upon his waxen head, dug in my claws and ripped his head back to an upright position. “How dare you speak to a priestess of Lolth that way!” I hissed into his face. His affront could not go unpaid for. I didn’t want to cause too much of a scene in public however, because our business was of the heavy sort, and I didn’t want to draw an overt amount of attention. Yet, I was insulted, and pride is at times as important as any mission.

“Oh…I’m sorry, let me beg for forgiveness!” he said, and began laughing, his head flopping around, his robes hanging askew. His drunkenness was intolerable, and his attitude even more so. I looked around the establishment. My brother was still intent upon his business, and Amearia was still at the bar. I was getting quite mad that they wouldn’t assist me, because I certainly couldn’t just attempt to kill him. This was because I needed him in my party, not because I couldn’t have of course. So, I stood and walked towards the entrance, and poked my head out, seeking out a guard. “You there,” I said to a guardsman. “I have need of your services within.” I pointed at the house insignia that resides on my own piwafwi, the symbol of power far my house. The guard sternly followed me back into the tavern.

I led him through the throng of intoxicated drow to our table in the back, which Amearia had finally returned to. I pointed at the disgusting offender, and whispered into the guards ear his instructions. Abruptly I pulled my whip off my hip, and shot it out at Alak, almost missing. Alak leaned in to receive the strike on his cheek at just the right moment, just to mock me. This only served to infuriate me more, so I gave a pointed glance to the guard. He lumbered menacingly over to the inebriated mage, and leaned over him, a towering hulk of threat. Alak raised his head to look the new danger in the face, and weakly raised his magical staff in front of him as if to strike. The guard swiftly grabbed the stick out of his hands, with barely a struggle. He easily snapped the wood in half and flung the pieces away. Alak stared at him in drunken shock. The hulk looked at me questioningly, and upon looking at the mage, I determined he looked suitably chastised. I nodded at the guard for him to be on his way. I watched the abnormally large drow shove his way through the crowd, and then turned my head back to gloat over Alak. He was looking at me. “At least I don’t have to beg guards to do my dirty work.”

I gasped in horror at his words. Loki and Amearia were both feigning oblivion still, not wanting to get involved. My hand darted to the mace hanging at my belt, as I pulled my face in to a snarl of wrath. Suddenly, I saw the descent of wood in front of my face, and witnessed it smash down across Alak’s visage. The sound of bone crushing was music to my ears and I grinned with malignant glee. My eyes tracked up the arm of the wielder of the piece of staff to a drow all in black, of a fair height and girth, a certainly strong looking male, whose white hair hung to his shoulders freely. He had matching scimitars hanging from his belt, while he frowned in contempt at the wounded mage. His arm came up and struck again with the stick, painfully smashing Alak’s teeth together. The newcomer to the table then looked at me.

“Why thank you,” I said coyly, immediately wanting to recruit this male into my group. I could use a man of strength to balance out the magic users. “Yeah.” His response was flat and cool. “Couldn’t just let him act that way. Someone had to do something.”

Alak sat there in a daze, blood drooling out of his mouth. The newcomer sat himself down across from him, watching him for trouble. I found this rather presumptuous, but I let it go. He had the clear mark of mercenary about him, just as I, I am certain, had the look of someone out hiring. Why else would someone of my class be in an establishment in that poor area of Menzoberranzan? The only way nobles are ever caught dead in one of those places is to buy a sellsword, or perhaps to lose their important identity for a time. So I got straight to the point. “We are on a mission. How much would buy your services?”

“What is the mission,” he asked, with a haughty air. I looked at the others at the table. Amearia appeared to be quietly reprimanding her apprentice, in such away that appeared quite intimate. Loki merely sipped his wine and looked at me innocently, as though he hadn’t a thought in his head. Why do I have to be the leader? I couldn’t refrain from thinking. “It’s a trip to the surface to look at a threat. The temple has charged us with this.”

“How much are you going to pay me?”

“Well I’m certain I can get the temple to compensate you wonderfully, and of course you’d get a share of any spoils.”

“I want fifty percent of the loot. What can you pay me?”

“I’m not going to pay you. And fifty percent is preposterous; what makes you think you deserve that? Where are you from?”

“Not here. And if you’re going to have me risk my life, you’re going to pay.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. The temple will pay you well, and I will give you twenty-five percent of the spoils, and that’s all.” I was getting ready to send the arrogant bastard on his way. I didn’t need a fighter this badly.

“Why don’t you…beg for him,” the wounded Alak said. Quite a stupid move it was, because all of a sudden the mercenary’s fist appeared before his eyes and then between them, hitting him square in the nose. The wizard slumped over in a heap of pain.

I couldn’t help but be thrilled anew by the fighter. “What is your name by the way?” I asked him.

“Ire. And twenty-five will be fine. What will you priestesses pay me?”

“We have to go to the temple for that now, and so that I may spe1ak with the high priestess,” I said. I looked at everyone and motioned for them to follow me. I threw a few coins on the table before walking to the door.

* * *

Once we reached Arach Tinilith I had everyone wait outside. I didn’t want any of the cocky bastards making a fool out of me or themselves in the place of my Goddess. Unlike a tavern, disrespect in that place gets you killed. So I went up the column of stairs and entered the temple by the right of its two large doors. Magnificent carvings covered the doors, of drow elves and spiders mingling in evil harmony. Their towering height, nay, the temple itself never failed to cower me. So, folding my hands before me I strode into the front hall. A few acolytes were meandering by a life-size statue of a yochol, a handmaiden of Lolth. “Might you know the whereabouts of the High Priestess Quenthel?” I asked them. I must have startled them out of some youthful (probably deceitful) gossip, because they gasped when they heard me, bowing in apology for not having seen me immediately. “She is in her rooms,” one of the young females said to me, her eyes downcast.

I walked past them to the hall on the right. From there I went through the curved passageway towards the back of the gigantic temple. The complex is shaped as a monolithic spider, where the head is at the door, and the rear is the high priestess quarters. The very center of the spider contains the high ceiling place of worship, the largest in the entire city. There is where only the priestesses of Lolth may enter, where the most secret of ceremonies are performed.

I went on down the oval hall, passing fairie fire lit paintings and carvings to the right, and classroom doors to my left. I reached the apex of the sides of the spider, where two sentries were posted before the doors of Lolth’s most favored.

Without me having to say anything, the guards parted their spears for me to enter. The doors opened inward of their own accord; I must have looked quite regal with my robes flowing out behind me as I walked through. I kept myself appropriately respectful, however, looking down as I entered. As I approached the female waiting there, I dropped down on a knee, and waited for her to accept me into her presence.

“Ah Veda. You may rise.” Thusly greeted, I rose. The High Priestess, Quenthel was rather tall for one of us, but pretty nonetheless, and most certainly majestic. An enviable whip of snake heads hung from her belt, her only weapon. They generated the only sound during the quiet moment, hissing and slithering about. “So,” she said to me, “you are ready to go on your journey?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I just need to know specifically where I’m going.”

“Take the tunnels behind Donigarten. Once you reach the surface, head east through the forest. It will be a high temple on a hill from what we know,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

I hesitated a beat, not wanting to ask for anything material. “Well, I would like to hire a mercenary to accompany us, and he requires compensation,” I said.

“We will offer 100 gold pieces. It is a male?”

“Yes, but he seems fairly strong. He’ll make good fodder,” I returned. I knew there would be issues about paying a male to do anything.

“We should kill the male for the insolence of requesting money from Lolth,” she said evilly. I found it a delicious thought as well, but I couldn’t agree.

“No, I offered him the pay. Let him at least do the work of Lolth before he dies,” I said conspiratorially, meaning we should use him before killing him. “Especially on this mission. You said there is a mind flayer? Was that one, or plural?”

“There’s just one. It shouldn’t be difficult to take care of. But you know, there is something dangerous taking place there. So be careful nonetheless, especially where another god treads. Take the money and go. Lolth be with you.” After that I bowed, and went out.

* * *

Reaching the stairs outside once more, I saw my companions acting like buffoons at the bottom. I shook my head in dismay. I walked down the massive stairway.

“We offer you 100 gold pieces,” I said to Ire. “You can have fifty now, and fifty once the mission is completed, as well as your percentage of the booty.”

“I want seventy five now and twenty five at the end,” he said rudely. I was shocked. I had expected better what with him dealing with Alak earlier.

“Look, they wanted to just go ahead and kill you in there, for asking for any money to do the will of Lolth. I saved you that right now.”

At that he seemed a bit chastised and accepted my offer. So we went.

* * *

When we emerged from the tunnel the cursed sun hadn’t yet set. It looked like it would be at least an hour or two before we would get the dark cover we desired.

I came out after Loki. The fiery light burned my eyes; thankfully it wasn’t very high in the sky, and we were under trees. I looked about, squinting my eyes. The ancient tunnel had opened through a gigantic tree trunk. The foliage surrounding was thick, with leaves and pebbles littering the ground. The rest of the company exited the tree, all at war with the concept of stealth. Their boots all crunched on the twigs and leaves obnoxiously. Loki visibly cringed as any rogue would be wont to.

I briefly considered chopping off their feet, and then announced that we would take rest while my brother took a look at our path ahead. Loki nodded and silently melted in to the greenery, leaving no trace of himself.

I tied my horse to a nearby tree and Alak and Amearia followed suit. The merc didn’t have a horse. I wondered what he intended to do for transportation later. I watched him sit down and pull out some trail rations to eat. I looked over at the other two, and saw that they were having an argument. They had stepped aside and Amearia was clearly trying to yank a wine skin away from Alak. So, it seemed the fellow had a problem.

I sat down opposite Ire in the clearing, and pulled out my daggers. They all matched, with black leather pommels and obsidian steel blades. I retrieved some oil and a cloth from one of my inner pockets, and cleaned the metal reverently. I polished them to the highest sheen possible, rubbing the oil into the blade slowly and patiently. Then I put the tools away and pulled out a tiny vial of green liquid. I got up to sit in a squatting position that I might apply the poison to the daggers without harming myself. I held each dagger in turn over the ground, and skillfully dripped the giant spider venom on to the dark metal. I held them out in to the breeze to dry it on, and then stuck them back into their sheaths. Satisfied, I replaced the poison, and took out my own rations and sat back down cross-legged in the leaves to eat.

I looked up to see Ire with his head cocked into the wind. I listened; laughing voices could be heard lightly. I used sign language to indicate “Good hearing” to Ire and then moved my eyes in the direction the laughs could be heard from. Not only did I see a faint flicker of fire, but I smelled the smoke of charring animal meat on the air. Silently Ire and myself stood up. The merc motioned for the mages to be quiet and alert.

Ire began to creep forward through the woods. The other camp was about sixty feet north of ours. I followed him, attempting to be as silent as he was, but wasn’t quite able to match him in stealth. Well sneaking about isn’t what I was trained for, so I managed quite well anyways. I am after all, a drow. So I crept through the bushes and trees behind the big fighter. I stopped and looked back briefly to see that the mages had drawn their bows and were watching..

I looked back ahead to see that Ire had disappeared into the woods. It was a bit disconcerting but not surprising. I continued my progress and halted about thirty feet away. At this point I could see the foreign camp clearly. It was a group of four halflings merrymaking in front of a fire, dancing about and singing. I looked on them with disgust, and wondered why Ire had to be so sneaky about such petty creatures.

Suddenly I felt an arrow wiz by my ear
with a hiss. I watched as it plunged itself into the chest of the furthest Halfling, sending it toppling over in death. A split second later, another arrow flew by me, burying itself in the back of another, sending it flailing in to the fire. He let out a death wail, just as Loki reappeared, jumping out of a tree to land on another Halflings back. I saw this and was filled with bloodlust for the remaining creature. All my pent up rage of the last day took over my body, and I began to run forward, heedless of the noise I made. As I ran I whipped out my mace and wielded it with both hands to my right. I ran directly at the doomed creature, a mad gleam filling my eyes. And then suddenly my mace connected with the Halflings skull; I swung so hard it bashed his face in. Its skull cracked and gore sprayed out the back. The concave face screamed in horror before it died. My momentum stopped, I breathed heavily looking at the corpse. I gasped for breath as I returned to emotional baseline. I looked up just in time to see my brother behead the Halfling he had landed.

Sighing I sat down next to the corpse and rifled through its pocket for any goods he might have had. The dead thing had a few coins but not much else of use. I watched as Amearia and Alak jogged over to the Halflings they had skewered with their arrows. They kneeled down and searched the bodies as I had mine. I looked back to my corpse and pulled out a dagger, careful not to cut myself with the poisoned blade. I cut the pinky finger off a hand of the body, and then stuffed it into one of my many hidden pockets. I stood back up. “Killing is fun, but perhaps we should have questioned them first,” I said, pointedly looking at Amearia. I noticed that Alak was watching me with a funny look in his eyes. I took my eyes away from the impertinent mage and asked “Find anything of interest?”

“I did,” replied Ire from his position to my left. I put my attention on him, on his right hand which held up a strange looking arrow. “I don’t think this is yours?” he said, looking at Amearia.

“No,” she said, holding up her wooden arrow after plucking it out of the bloody torso. She walked over to Ire and held out her hand to look at the arrow. She delicately extended her hand, cautious of any poisons that may sit on a bolt’s head. Ire went to hand it to her, but the black arrow went right through her hand, as though it was non-corporeal. The arrow fell to the ground. I raised my eyebrow at this strange incident.

Ire bent over and picked up the arrow once more. Amearia attempted to touch the arrow again, and again her hand passed through it. Alak came up and tried to do the same, his hand also passing through the bolt. I started to walk up to the threesome, but by the time I got there Ire had pocketed the thing, and I didn’t ask him to bring it out again. I was forming a hypothesis of the situation, but I wanted to keep quiet until I had more evidence.

Loki came up behind me and grasped my shoulder. I covered my surprise deftly and clapped him on the back, with pleasure that he had returned. I whispered “Watch them,” to him quickly, before the others approached.

“I saw a shadowy figure running from here a moment ago. Did you see it?” he asked the group. Everyone including myself said no.

“That must be who owns this arrow!” exclaimed Amearia. She has a penchant for bloodshed at times, and it appeared that was one of them. “We should follow it!”

“It headed west, in the opposite direction of our mission,” said Loki. He looked at me with a look of “Oh no” in his eyes.

“Well I think we should go see who’s shooting these strange arrows!” returned Amearia.

“Well? What direction guys?” I asked. I hoped this wouldn’t be a terribly drawn out debate. “Technically, the bolt was found with the Halflings, therefore, the owner was likely attacking them, and not us.” I looked around at the bloody corpses surrounding our feet. “Let’s go back over to our own camp.”

We walked back. Amearia looked rather sullen, I could tell from our years of friendship that she wanted to kill some more. Once she started she was always very reluctant to stop. Lolth help Alak were to piss her off soon.

I asked my brother what he had seen on his trip. I got close to him conspiratorially, because I wasn’t sure if he’d tell me anything I would want to keep a secret. His information wasn’t profound after all. He had seen that beyond the forest to the east, there were plains. On those plains on a hill, a mile away, was a circular temple. It was one story, and had only one closed door. He said there weren’t any living beings around it. “There’s no cover is there?” I said.

“No.”

“Well…so guys,” I raised my voice so everyone could hear me. We were back in camp; everyone had spread out, this time with Ire and Amearia oddly by themselves. I gave them a once over before continuing. “We have about an hour until sunset in which to decide where we’re going.” No one responded. Ire and Amearia were talking amongst themselves, and Alak was watching them in anger from a distance away. I didn’t want his opinion anyways. I knew where Loki stood on the matter already; it was apparent he felt the most important thing was the mission. I can always count on my brother to take my interests to heart. I suppose my interests are his because of our relation, as in our city family status is an important factor of self importance. So my mission was his mission. But I did want the other two’s input, and was getting a bit miffed at their secretive discussion. They moved even farther away, compounding my irritation. I wondered what they were talking about. I snuck over to the bushes on my right and slipped inside. I knelt down on the ground and began crawling toward where the two gossipers stood. I crept over with a thief’s skill, stopping five feet away from the two sets of boots. I breathed slowly and methodically so as not to make any sound. With my ear turned upwards I listened intently.

“I’m sure you’re guessing what this means?” said the mercenary quietly.

“Well,” said my friend with an air of knowledge, “there are few ways to interpret it.” I think she said those words in order to not give away her true conjectures. There is a certain art of acquiring information after all.

“Obviously I’m not like all of you, that
you can not touch what I can.”

“No…you seem to be of a different…sentiment. Where are you from?” The question went ignored. “What is your full name?”

“Ire, Ire Shadowfire.”

“Interesting, sounds almost surface like doesn’t it? Anyways…yes this bolt thing. There are some spells that can be cast on instruments to make them evade certain types of people. Evil people, for instance. People like,” Amearia waved her hand around, “us. Yet you could touch it, hold it even. What does that say?”

“What can I do to keep this between us?”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Your secret
is safe…for now.” She grinned devilishly. The female mage stomped out of the brush with that, enabling me to sneak back out of the woods, and into the clearing, without being heard. I heard Ire mutter something about “Piss,” as I made my way off.

When I got back to my position next to my dear brother, I again cleared my throat delicately and asked, “Where to now people?”

“I still think we should go after the creature! He could be a threat!” declared Amearia. Her bloodthirst really was relentless some days. Ire interrupted her this time.

“I believe Loki and Veda are right, we
shouldn’t tarry, when we clearly have a mission to the east.” I saw a look exchanged between him and Amearia. She didn’t like that statement. He was obviously avoiding the situation of his “not being evil like us”. I rather resent the word evil some days, I do. I suppose I could have called him out on it right there, and called down the wrath of Lolth on the infidel, but I still figured I could use him as battle fodder. So I held my card in check.

I did like his agreeance with me and Loki, however. I looked to Alak, who stood there searching among his things for something lost. I decided the mageling wouldn’t really care one way or the other; at least, it didn’t matter if he did. I would just have the brute whack him on his pretty little bald head if necessary. “OK then, let us be off!” I said.

With that, everyone gathered their things, drank final drinks, and rehung the packs on the horses. We led the horses through the woods, due to it being unfamiliar territory. Once we reached the edge of the forest, which was much sooner than I had imagined, we mounted our steeds. I really was a bit confused at why Loki had been gone so long, what with the short distance.

I looked out across the plain. The sun was just setting beyond the mountainous horizon, streaking the sky in reds and violets that I had never seen with my underdark eyes before. It tingled my sensitive eyes, yet I admit to having been enchanted by the rays of pigment that seemed to race one another into the black dome of night above my head. The blending of this rainbow was such that I had never seen before; previously I had only ventured out into the forest near the escape route back into the darkness underground.

Against the colorful backdrop, in relief, was the temple, our destination. As my dear brother had said, there was no one in sight, and there was only one imposing oaken door as an entrance. I looked to my fellows expectantly. There was nothing else for us to do but cross the barren land. The lack of cover was daunting, but we had a task at hand that couldn’t be shied from. I climbed upon my horse; Amearia, Loki, and Alak followed suit.My eyes regarded Ire and his lack of steed questioningly. He was studying the others with his broad black jaw held in his hand thoughtfully. In the end he looked dead at Alak, and approached him. His face was firmly set in determination, while the wind pulled back at his hair and cloak, complementing his stern stride. “Get off,” he commanded Alak.

“But-but it’s my horse!” the mage responded dumbly.

Ire, coming up next to the steed, reached and grabbed one of Alak’s legs in an iron grip. He looked up at Alak. “I said get off.” Alak regarded the rude mercenary in shock. For an impossibly long few minutes, the two stared at each other unbendingly. Suddenly, without taking his eyes from Alak’s, Ire pulled down with his powerful arm, completely removing Alak from his seat. The mage tumbled to the ground in a ridiculous heap.

I watched Shadowfire leap upon the horse, a huge conceited grin spilling over his face. He calmly put his left foot in a stirrup, and then the right. He then watched as Alak, sputtering and cursing, stood up and attempted to regain his composure. I found all this quite pathetic, and despite the mage’s previous mocking attitude, I felt sorry for him. He adjusted his cloak around his neck, looking around indignantly at no one, while Ire simply rode his horse to the other side of the group, away from the victimized party member.

I sighed, and went over to Alak, and told him to get on my horse. He didn’t look at me as he climbed aboard. I merely shook my head and didn’t say any more. I raised my hand and pointed to the temple in silence, and we were off.

We bounded across the wasteland quickly. Our destination was only a mile off, but as there was nothing in the way it seemed even closer. The journey only took a brief five minutes, and all of a sudden we were within twenty feet of the place. As unanimously as we had taken flight, we stopped in front of the building. Up close it had hardly changed; the definition of the separate stones was visible, and the giant nails in the planks of wood of the door were glinting in the moonlight. The roof couldn’t be seen; it must have been flat.

I looked around suspiciously. There was no one, and according to the lack of prints in the grass, no one but ourselves had been there in any recent past. With a grasp of my spider amulet and a muttered phrase, I cast a detect magic spell. It would tell me if anything within sixty feet was magical. Of course, the only things it revealed were trappings around myself and the mages. I noted that there was an aura the shape of the mysterious bolt outside of one of the merc’s pouches. Nothing on the building was lit up from the spell; no hidden magical beings were outlined in light. I couldn’t help but think of how worthless my spells had been to me. Everything I had accomplished recently was with my mace, not with any divine power. Maybe the mage was right…
My brother rode up next to me and watched in silence as these thoughts passed through my mind. I looked at him strangely. Why was he so content with his occupation? He always knew what to do, and could accomplish it himself. What was that glint in his eye as he watched my spell fail to produce fruit? “I’ll scout ahead,” he said quietly. His oversized plumage grazed my face as he turned to trot his horse to the great wooden entrance. I turned in my seat to look at Alak, who was looking at me with a sarcastic smile. I know what he was thinking about my spells. I should have pushed him off my horse for his impertinence, but of course, I didn’t, as usual. I felt so impotent in that moment.

Abruptly I turned away, to watch as Loki approached the temple. He was directly in front of the entrance, regarding it warily. He dismounted, and the horse skittishly moved back away from him and the door, when the door abruptly fell forward, impossibly fast. I felt wind from the crashing down of the door, and felt the ground tremble under the weight. My brother was unshaken, staring into the inky blackness of the hole in stone. He turned and looked at me, and tipped his hat, smirking just a bit. I watched him stonily, but inside I knew he was my most trusted companion and I hoped he wouldn’t get hurt.

As though on cue, the blackness within the temple began churning, and black tendrils of nothing reached out towards Loki. They slithered through the air, and then were pushed by an unseen force to my brother. He didn’t even retreat. He sat on his horse stoically, as though enraptured by the evil flowing at him. Horror filled my being as I saw him wrapped up by the nothing and blink out of existence. It paused for a moment, hovering in the air, stretched out from the door, then the gob of black was sucked abruptly back into the temple, and the door snapped shut.

I gasped for air, heaving as my chest replenished itself after moments of not breathing. I frantically moved my head about, looking at Amearia and Ire. The mage behind me did and said nothing, only clutching the back of my clothing in fear. Regaining my composure, slowing my breathing and calming down, I turned to remove his hands from my person. “What was that?”Amearia exclaimed.

“The only way to find out…is by going in,” said Ire. He didn’t look very phased by the incident. He looked to me expectantly.

“Well...,” I sighed. “It is the only thing to do it seems.” I didn’t want to go in. It was, however, the only thing we could do. I certainly was not going to show any fear on my part. Nothing can affect a priestess of Lolth. Therefore, I took control; I rallied my horse towards the now malicious door. I could hear Alak breathing heavily over my shoulder, and felt him fiddling among his things. The presence of the other two riders was at my back as I boldly approached our destination.

For us, the door crept open. It seemed sentient, as it appeared to be wary of our entrance. So the wood fell slowly, and once again, just more directly, we were all faced with the gaping blackness within the temple. I got off my horse and sent it towards Loki’s. I gazed into the dark with purpose, and looked at my companions who were also now on foot. I began to walk slowly onto the wooden platform. I was nervous, but no tremble reached my outer limbs. We walked proud into the darkness.
My eyes adjusted quickly to the inside of the temple, shifting over into heat vision. I saw my two companions upon their horses to my left and right, bright red against the black. I looked around, and could see the heat prints of the walls. We proceeded with caution through the front walkway, completely silent.

It was a good thing we were, because as we turned the right corner into the main room, the bright red body of an enemy came into view. We knew it could not possibly be my missing brother, for this creature had tentacles coming from the middle of its head. Light from a single candle behind it lit it up, changing my vision over somewhat, enough to see the deathly purple of its bloated head. The slithering tentacles surrounded a puckered mouth, much like underneath a surface octopus. It wore a flowing robe over is blubbery body, which streamed backwards as it floated towards us in expectation.

Amearia already had her bow out, and shot the creature in the side immediately. With mind flayers it’s kill now, ask questions later. Otherwise the vile thing would be asking you the questions, using its telepathic powers to take over your soul. I rode forth as did Ire, both of us brandishing our weapons before it. I with my mace bashed the monster in the gut with an underhanded swing, while Ire swung a scimitar at its head, gashing a deep line into the things skull. Black blood oozed out of the grotesque wound. It had nearly severed the top of its head completely. Ire swung again and missed, as Alak behind me sent it reeling with a magic missile to its groin area.

The mind flayer fell to its knees, if it had them, and collapsed to the ground. It was a quick, efficient death. I smiled at our abilities and jumped down from my horse. I knelt beside the corpse and cut a finger off, sliding it into the same pouch as I had the last appendage. I patted the pocket in satisfaction, but then felt eyes on me. I looked behind me, up at the mage who was still sitting on my horse. Ire fell to removing everything of value from the dead mind flayer as I stood up.

Alak was looking at me strangely. I looked back, with question in my eyes. After all, he ought to have been pleased with our handiwork as well. “You didn’t even try to use spells that time. Look.” He pointed at the mace which still hung from my left hand, and then at the crushed chest of the flayer. “You went right for your weapon.”

I looked at my weapon fondly. So I had. I didn’t even think of calling on my Goddess for help. Why should I have? I felt comforted to have my bludgeoning weapon in hand. It was reliable. It caused pain, and I knew that for fact. I straightened my back and moved my line of sight back to the accusing mage. I stood proudly with my mace, with a look on my face that said “So?”. Just because I had used it first thing this time, did not mean I was forsaking anything.

Everyone else was waiting for me. Our surroundings were simple. There was a door to the right leading to another room, and stairs to the left leading down into a dungeon. I, being sensible, suggested we all enter the room first. That’s the way to do it after all – check out the floor you’re on thoroughly before proceeding to another. Ire and Amearia attempted to argue with me; they said that if my brother was being held hostage he would be down the stairs. I ignored their argument, because my mission was of primary importance. I had to find any information regarding this enemy god, and methodical searching was the only way. So I went into the adjoining room, and they followed.
This new room was almost as empty as the main hall. It contained only a desk and a chair. The walls were barren and of stone just like the outer walls. The air was choked by the dirt floor that we stirred with our boots. My companions held their weapons at the ready, eyes darting about in paranoia, rightfully so. I immediately made my way to the big oaken desk, which was empty except for a stained inkwell. I sat down in the wooden chair, and grasped the brass knob of the only drawer before me. I gasped in surprise as I realized I should have cast a detect magic spell. Now I would likely get hit by a lightening bolt for all my stupidity.

But I wasn’t. So I pulled the drawer open, daring my companions to comment on my lack of spell use. I looked in, and saw a scroll there. My heart beat faster in excitement; I had found something finally! My fingers touched the parchment tube reverently, and then pulled it open to read:

Ritual to Destroy The Patient One

The Patient One is a dark consuming deity. To destroy such a creature you will need a sacred dagger and a rodent.
A priestess or cleric must sacrifice this rat over The Patient One’s sacred brazier, at such a time as it is lit with the revolting emerald light of said entity. The words of the Abyss are then spoken, lips slaves to the calling. As liquid and flame become noxious gas, the coming of The Patient One shall be halted.

I reread the words, pondering. Why in Lolth’s name would anyone think to keep a scroll for destroying their god in their own temple? It seemed hardly appropriate. I felt a trick in this, that it should be so obvious and easy to find. Of course if it were a real ritual, I would use it. Think of what I would gain by getting rid of an enemy of my Goddess? I felt it was all very suspicious still, so I pulled a scroll tube from my belt and opened it, slid the parchment inside, and snapped the top shut. I rehung it quickly, ready to make my way downstairs.

With that in mind, I went to leave. I saw my companions all watching me expectantly. “Well what did it say?” asked Ire. I gasped. I wasn’t going to tell them. It was a part of my mission, the mission they were charged to help with, not the mission they were charged to know. I told the merc that it was none of his business, that he was paid to do a job and not ask questions. I brushed past him on my way out of the room.

I stood once more in the great hall, and looked at the bloody mess in the middle of the dirt approvingly. I turned around when the others came out behind me. Ire was grinning.
He held the scroll in his hand, waving it about. “You bastard! I don’t pay you to steal from me!”

“I’m sorry. Had too much curiosity,” the disrespectful drow said to me. I wanted to flay him alive at that. I was seeing red. I looked at the other two, who were looking at me stupidly. Alak even was swaying in his steps. Indeed, what had the irresponsible male been doing earlier? In any case, they were all looking at me as though I should be doing something.

“It is none of your business. I’m going to take that back home and have the Temple look at it.”

“Shouldn’t you be performing the ritual?” asked Amearia. “I mean…obviously you are the enemy of this Patient One. You could get a lot of recognition for destroying him.” She jumped up and down in excitement, her braid flinging about and whacking Alak in the side of the head.

Me, destroy a God? The thought was beyond me. Perhaps I would have taken her seriously if she wasn’t a fool. Besides, the scroll was suspicious. “Don’t you see? Why would a scroll to destroy their God be in their own temple?”
“Well, maybe they were protecting it from people like you,” said Ire. “Come on, you should do it!”

I don’t know why they were so insistent. They liked to disagree with my reasoning. “Come on, hell, you finally get a spell that you don’t have to beg for, and may actually do something, and you won’t do it?” cajoled Alak. I wanted to scream in frustration.

I ignored them, and walked down the stairs. They followed me, jeering at me.
The sight that waited for us was unexpected. My brother was no where to be found, but there were about a thousand rats waiting for us. The floor seemed constructed of them; it twisted and folded in waves of rat bodies crawling over and under each other. With each step we made a rat splattered the floor. Across from the landing, a golden brazier hung above a green magical flame.

“Well what do you know!” said Ire.

“Yes! Look Veda! You can do it!” said Amearia.

“Cheers.” Alak pulled out his flask openly now, spilling it on the vermin and himself. I looked at him in disgust.

The brazier was gorgeous. It was of paper thin gold, with the most delicate etchings of slaughter upon it. The flame licked its bottom delicately, leaving no residue. I couldn’t resist peering inside. I recalled the words to the scroll.

Slowly, I withdrew one of my sacrificial daggers from my belt. I knelt down and scooped a rat into my palm. I squeezed it delicately, then harder, and harder. It popped in my hand, its blood and innards running down my flesh, hot and juicy. Oops. I grabbed up another of the beasts and stood. I petted its fur with my knife, and raised it above the brazier. My eyes wouldn’t blink as I ran the pointed blade over the body of the rat. All of a sudden I plunged my dagger down, down into the rat, through the rat, through my own hand, until the pommel crushed its body into my palm. I looked down at the blade placidly, feeling no pain. I began to pull the dagger the other direction. When it came free of my hand, blood poured out in fury into the brazier. It hissed and smoked as it hit the metal. The dagger came out of the rat, which was dead, and I squeezed its life juice into the brazier, mumbling an incantation I have never studied, never known. I dropped the furry empty husk. It hit the bottom and a poof of smoke burst from the bowl. Suddenly I was shaken; I stepped back from the brazier, aware that something had happened. The smoke began to pour forth from the brazier, putrid green as the flame had been. It ran amuck on the floor, killing the rats dead instantly. I stared with my mouth agape, and so did my companions. I still couldn’t blink my eyes. It was as though someone else was in there, holding them open for me, as they had made me immune to the pain in my hand. I looked at my fellows in horror, and they looked back the same. I watched the smoke make its way up the stairs, and followed.

With the footsteps of a zombie I went up, the other three behind me fearful. I thudded each step, as though I was possessed and could move no faster. The implications of what had happened were dawning on me. We reached the ground level once more.

There, in the place where the corpse had been, stood a statue. It appeared to be a statue anyways. It was tall and grey, and appeared to be as smooth and hard as marble, with the flatness of color of concrete. It was a humanoid figure, covered completely with a cowl, head bowed down. It was giving off an obscene aura, much like the emerald flame. It felt awful. It reached out for me, enveloped me. It was swarming my soul. Then Loki appeared. He came out from behind the statue suddenly, and looked at me maniacally.

“Sister! Don’t you see? Join me!” He was more animated than I had ever seen him. His plotting demeanor was erased, and his religious fanaticism was revealed. “Join us. This is the way!” He wanted me to convert?

The statue began to tremble, and the glow began to pulsate ominously. My companions stood enraptured, all but Ire, who was looking at my brother and the statue with hatred. I didn’t have the will to wonder what that was about. All I could think of was that my brother was a traitor, and that he wanted me to join him?

“You have betrayed Lolth,” I mumbled. My will just wasn’t there.

“Lolth is going to die. Join us or you shall too.”

I thought on this. Where was my faith? How has Lolth helped me? If I convert…won’t that just show I’m not dedicated? And what if Lolth wins? But I don’t want to die. I can’t die. And what has Lolth given me anyways? I can’t even defend myself with her spells. I couldn’t decide.

And I needed to decide quick. The statue, or the Patient One, was shaking very violently at this point. I saw Ire strike at it with his scimitars, and it only seemed to pulsate more wildly, now shifting between red and green, shining its light on our faces, through the room. Everyone appeared a ghastly caricature of themselves. I wanted to be sick.

“Join us, or die!” My brother was mad with glee now, dancing on his feet to and fro. He came up to me. “Come sister, and we can share the power of the Patient One!” My stomach was twisting inside of me; I doubled over in nausea and pain. “Join us!”

I had to make a decision.
“I convert!” I fell to my knees in supplication to the God before me, bowing down to the floor as low as possible. I felt a mad glee fill me up as I said the words, and I repeated them over and over. I raised my eyes and saw my brother smiling at me approvingly. The statue was rising, and pulsating more regularly now. I could not remove my eyes from it. When it reached its zenith in the air, it all of a sudden flew from the room, out the main entrance where we had first come in.

The light was gone. I was on the floor. My companions were staring at me.

I didn’t know what to do. What had I done? I can retract it. I think I can. I figured that I could just say I had said it to save myself. So I said just that. The others looked at me in disbelief. Suddenly Amearia swung on Ire. He ducked easily, although he seemed surprised by the attack. He grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms behind her easily. I looked at her. She was obviously possessed somehow by The Patient One.

Alak was looking at me still. “I am not converted. I still believe in Lolth.” I tried to reaffirm it to him. Abruptly his eyes crossed and he passed out cold on the floor. I suppose it wasn’t me then that had held him in shock. I kneeled down next to him and picked up the flask lying near his hand. I had some experience with these things, so I smelled the lip of it. It smelled of Dragonbreath, a powerful drug. No wonder he had been so out of it.

I sat down to wait out his illness and my friend’s possession. Ire had smacked her unconscious. "Good move, but you’re still a bastard." I realized Loki had completely disappeared with his God. I sighed in confusion. I looked at Alak next to me, and then looked at his robe. I got curious and began to rifle through it, and came up with his spell book.

I leaned against him, and pulled open the book. "Now, maybe I should learn some of this mage stuff..."