Open Chronicles Shallow Grave

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Nasir cocked his head. "A tale that any in your position would tell."

The song of their people's tongue left his lips as he considered the man before him. His words could have credence to them. Many people followed him before his exile, only his closest had been executed before his eyes.

He could also have been lying, but if that were the case...why follow them? It would have been easier to alert the Nobility or the Priests. Within an hour they would have been utterly overwhelmed and unable to fight. Nasir certainly didn't trust this man, but it was not illogical. "It was a misunderstanding. A fault of mine."

"Understand that I will kill you to protect her."
He glanced at Myrra briefly, then back down to the man. "But my duty is not to hold chains."

His fingers slipped, and the magic evaporated from around the man's throat.

Nasir's grip on his abilities did not lessen though, and if Githron moved to strike any of them he would lash out in second.

"As I said, we're a violent people." He smiled at Kassa and Myrra, apparently finding some amusement in this.
 
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Things were not going well for Kassa. Firstly, she felt a fool for reacting to a stranger that Nasir apparently had forgiven, and now she had a debt to pay off to Myrra. A life debt, no less. Though Myrra likely had little knowledge of a commitment Kassa took very seriously, she now held power over the witch. If the young noble wanted to, she could ask Kassa to do just about anything.

Even die.

Kassa didn’t hate her for saving her life, of course. But she did hate this wordy stranger for making this happen, and the hostility didn’t leave her eyes or her rigid body as she regarded him as he babbled on and on in a tongue she had yet to understand with any proficiency. While she had learned a little bit when listening in on Myrra and Nasir’s conversations, the stranger’s words were still nonsense to her.

She didn’t ask for the stranger’s name or anything else. She wasn’t that interested in him, and instead turned her frown on Nasir, the de facto leader in this mess. He sounded amused. What was so funny? Kassa tried to hold back the irritation in her voice, but utterly failed. Not that it bothered her anyway.

“Well? What do we do with him?”
 
Now as the lashes that chained him would be lifted he would finally breathe again with full lungs. If he wanted to, standing up would be no problem, still though he would decide against it as asserting height contained a spark of aggression which was not necessary at the moment. Going into a crouching position he would ignore his knife and address Nasir on their language one last time, "<I have no doubt.>" as Nasir was still smiling trying to lighten the mood as any good soldier would after a somewhat traumatic battle, this apathetic elf would shake such sights internally off in awkwardness.

Pale yellow eyes would now scan the room as the first targets of interest were the women behind him, as he would hear Kassa question Nasir he would finally catch them with his sight - they would widen in surprise. Next to the human was another dark elf, and her eyes were as red as the blood now dripping from her hand. A highborn, a noble? A young female noble bleeding in the shack of a rusty old shopkeeper? He would freeze for a moment as he'd realize she stopped the knife from hitting the human and made the situation much worse in the process. Anyways, what was the former rebel leader planning with her? Common would be finally heard from Githron in reply to the human questioning Nasir, "Alright this is fucked up right now... Look, no hard feelings. We can't really do anything with anyone here. Outside they'd cut heads off for seeing her without guards or male company, you had luck to make it so far inside the city.". Looking at Kalla he'd point at the shopkeeper with his arm outstretched behind his back and set a serious grimace. "He's a problem, can't let him talk, you get me?".
 
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Nasir took the blame, though he continued speaking in their people's language. It was something Myrra had sworn to herself she'd need to correct quickly. The dark elven language was mesmerizing and beautiful but more importantly than that she had already missed out on what was even going on between these two.

The human's question went unanswered, practically ignored by the elf on his knees. Instead he mentioned something in reference to Myrra herself. She saw the look on his face, of shock and distress, when he first noticed her. But then his words of killing people for an unguarded noble rang out and she found that equally disturbing. Perhaps they'd need the second male drow alive if for nothing else than to play the part of a guard with Nasir? Or maybe that was just what he had said to keep his head attached?

She remembered that they had been warned before that the drow were violent. Nasir had just re-iterated his warning once more and already this stranger was talking of cutting heads and silencing the shopkeep. Permanently.

Myrra's crimson eyes scanned the entrepreneur who looked beyond startled. While her revelations about her past had certainly triggered a certain violent streak within her bones, and truly she would give no quarter to those who had cursed her with a life among the populace of Elbion and Alliria, it seemed somehow... wrong to end an innocent life here.

"Who are you?" she questioned the foreign drow. She turned towards Nasir and Kassa before saying, "surely we can just leave. He looks like the type to keep his mouth shut." The raven skinned girl didn't have any real intuition about the business owner. In fact, if anything, he seemed spineless and it was likely the first thing he'd do was run off to the local guard once they departed. But still, killing an innocent man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time felt like a truly grave sin.
 
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Nasir glanced over towards the storekeeper. "We use him, Kassa."

He doubted that the answer would be appreciated by either women, but Nasir had been alive long enough to understand the ways of these things. Everyone had to be an ally when it fit, everyone had to be a friend. That was an unfortunate fact.

Sometimes it came back to bite you, and others it got you rewards you could only dream of. He trusted Malgadrin's words, and he would do whatever was necessary to return the Undercity to it's former glory.

Especially now.

"I will take care of the Shopkeeper." Nasir commented as he stepped towards the man, fear quaking in his eyes. "Killing him would only drag more attention, and I have other methods."

Though they were hardly more pleasant.
 
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Nearly growling with frustration and impatience, Kassa glanced towards the shopkeeper as the stranger made his point in so many damned words. The elderly merchant looked stunned, his mouth opening and shutting in silent shock, his hands drawn up in fists to his throat as if to throttle words out. His eyes, a pale yellow, flickered from each individual to the next. Kassa pursed her lips, and had to admit this blathering fool was right. They couldn’t let him talk, and he would.

Myrra suggested just leaving, having faith that the shopkeeper would stay silent. To that Kassa shook her head curtly. “No. He’ll talk. But what do we do then?” Killing the shopkeeper would be a grave mistake, Kassa thought. He would be discovered sooner or later, and the entire Undercity would be looking for the culprits. A human such as she would be so out of place, she as a suspect was bound to happen.

What other choice did they have? There was none, Kassa thought, but found herself regretting the only recourse she saw. It wasn’t the shopkeeper’s fault he’d been here at the wrong time, and they had drawn him into their conflict while he was just living his normal life. It was unfair. It was cruel. Where were they going to hide the body to forestall the search for his murderers? Where were they going to hide themselves, when the search began?

Then Nasir announced he would deal with the shopkeeper, who quailed in terror as the tall drow stepped toward him despite the words that implied killing him was not going to be Nasir’s choice. Kassa breathed out in relief though she was certain Nasir’s tactic would be anything but cheerful. She raised an eyebrow as she turned again to regard the stranger. Use him? Quite so.

“Name, darling?”
 
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"...use him.", the words echoed in his mind just as like a scream would echo through the caverns surrounding. He had been pointing at the shopkeeper and talking to Kassa as this was uttered by Nasir. The pale yellow eyes would expand in surprise once again as he'd turn his head from Kassa to address the dark elf soldier, "I mean, I can hear you people.". He'd notice he was making his way over to the shopkeeper as a moment of thought struck him and slowed down time.

...​

The picture he had of this man was quite different in his head. Soldiers were powerful and could achieve much with power, but his power alone wasn't going to be enough for him to reach his former goals if he had any at all right now. This wouldn't be helped by the fact that he was blatantly stating his intentions and that he was prone to violence. His companions were also weaker than him, not good. Planning didn't seem to be their strength. It was most likely this what caused him to fail so long ago, it seems he just wasn't what he imagined. The only thing that might change this is the highborn one, but only if she was their ally and not a captive or whatnot, for what he knew it was extremely odd that she was with them. Highborn are known for their long term planning skills.

Furthermore, stating that they would use him was like a joke to his ears. Out of all the things you shouldn't do when trying to use a person is telling him that he would be used. The only reason why one would think of doing that is to provoke a reaction and see how someone thinks, but even then it would be dumb not to think that the subject wouldn't be insulted. What a mess... Alright, so what now?

...​

He would fall back into reality as the dark elf was making his way over to the shopkeeper, at the same time the human would attract his attention again. She was questioning him about his name, repeatedly, even though he could just blatantly lie about the information anyways. She most likely wanted to assert the all-sought dominance through this.

Giving in to this strong force he immediately decides to answer her question in his own way and end the hostilities once and for all.

"Yes."

Breathe in, and hold your breath as if you were very very annoyed by the question.
Roll your eyes preferably.

"My name is-"

Breathe out, and snuff the lights out.​

He didn't like to use magic. He thought necessary tools were necessary when necessary. The good thing was that they almost weren't necessary at all right now. The group was strong, yes, but Saros had seemingly quickly forgot that he had a captive once the shopkeeper was mentioned. The human was a small problem, but Githron if anything was a thief, and naturally developed his latent potential into disappearing, stealing and lying. He didn't manage to repeat and showcase the trick he used on another soldier while bound with the same spell that bound him earlier, it being unnecessary, but now he was finally able to show another one since it became necessary.

By breathing out, he cursed the lights to be forcefully snuffed out for a short amount of time. This was just one ability that he developed not through targeted training but rather through the need of being able to do something like this. It was one of the weakest, but still most effective spells, or rather curses he had in his repertoire. As his eyes were accustomed to the darkness, he started dashing outside of the shop. The knife was to be left as a present until they did not meet again. For now, this elf would escape outside into the alleyways of the City in an adrenaline rush that made him feel a hundred years younger at least.
 
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She wasn't sure she liked the idea of whatever Nasir was going to do to the shopkeep but, well, she didn't feel any reason to argue with him. At least he promised not to kill the poor fellow.

Kassa Lia was the one who asked precisely the question that Myrra wished to know. What was this newcomer's name? Where was he from? Why had he followed the trio? Unfortunately she did not receive any sort of answer that would prove satisfying.

Instead, much to her dismay, the man cast some sort of magic which darkened the room. Just like the stranger they had recently met her eyesight was keenly adjusted for nightvision. She saw as he darted through the shop and out one of the doors although it had happened so quickly that it wasn't feasible to try and stop him.

Reason would say that he had been spooked by Nasir. Or perhaps by Kassa's questioning. Regardless, the white-haired drow wasn't certain if this was truly an issue. She looked over towards Nasir, who had spoken to the gentleman in dark elvish, and inquired, "um, should we be concerned that he fled? Does he work for someone that intends to do us harm?"
 
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Nasir stopped for a second as darkness consumed the room, and then when Githron was gone he let out a loud sigh.

"Violent and mercurial." He said with a soft shake of his head.

That had always been the trouble with their kind. Drow had trouble seeing past themselves, or at least the benefit of themselves. It was not selfishness, no that was the wrong word. It was a need to survive. Their people would do anything and everything they could in order to keep on living.

It was the reason they were so fierce, but also the reason that they hardly ever worked together.

Independence was important, and it had been part of the reason why his rebellion had failed. "It is doubtful he works for anyone but himself, otherwise we would already be surrounded."

He offered the logic, then turned back towards the shopkeeper. Nasir muttered something in the language of the Drow, and then suddenly the Shopkeeper's eyes opened wide. A wordless scream echoed from his lips, eyes turned a bright purple, and then suddenly he fell over the counter of his shop into unconsciousness.

"This is the trouble with this place." He told the two of them. "There is little safety, and when traveling with me even less."

He paused a moment, then continued. "I intend to continue on to the Temple, but if you wish to part ways here I will understand. You may have an easier time without me."

The Undercity was a harsh place, but not impossible to survive on their own. Myrra would have to hide her eyes, but that was simple enough. Kassa on the other hand would just have to act like every other human here; ambitious and cruel.
 
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Darkness swept through the room. Kassa cursed, expecting the stranger to use this opportunity to attack one last time. Instead, as the lights slowly flickered back to life, he had disappeared, vanished into the Undercity public. She clenched her teeth so hard it hurt, deciding then and there that if she ever saw the stranger again he would be dead.

Nasir’s logic was reasonable, but it did little to comfort her. The stranger was a liability, a threat that she had no doubt would appear again. Perhaps he might not speak immediately of Nasir and his company, but he could if he chose, and Kassa did not like that possibility. Not only that… strangers like that always had troublesome friends and dangerous allies.

Again Nasir spoke, and Kassa stared as he offered them a way out. It was just an offering, but she did not see it that way.

There was awkward pause. Then,

“Are you kidding me?”

Kassa eyes narrowed, lips curving downward into a glower. “We follow you all this way into your ill-conceived plan to revolt, and then you tell us to get lost?” She barked out a harsh laugh. “No, sorry, darling. I’m already lost, so fuck you. I’m not going anywhere.” She jabbed a finger at Nasir. “Take some goddamn responsibility for the people you’ve led all the way here and be grateful that we have some understanding of the word commitment. Damn! Myrra, is your hand all right? Of course it’s not. I did the best I could, but it will definitely scar.”
 
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Myrra’s eyes widened at Kassa’s outburst. She could hardly fault her, the words registered as true. Even though Myrra was a drow and should fit in here she felt the same as her human ally. If Nasir was gone both women would struggle to eek out an existence in this place.

“I’ll be fine,” she said while looking at the bloodstained bandage, “I doubt I’ll be able to use my right hand for much for a few days. But I’ll be fine. The scar can be a nice souvenir.” She smiled and hoped that a bit of levity may ease tensions.

Her face then focused on Nasir. She bit at her lower lip unsure of what to say. Part of her wanted to nag at him for even suggesting such a thing, just as Kassa had, but the other part felt as though his recommendation came from a place of caring. Of wanting to protect the two of them. He had led a rebellion once and though she didn’t know all of the details she knew enough to understand that many of his comrades had died.

And now, centuries later, he returns home only for one of his allies to immediately become injured. That must’ve been hard to take in.

“I’ll go to the temple with you. Especially if the high priest will be there,” she spoke in a stern voice. A voice of conviction.
 
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Nasir only blinked as Kassa yelled at him.

Her response was not shocking, though the passion which she voiced it with took him aback. He had underestimated her it seemed. A part of him had thought she would simply take the opportunity to grab Myrra and run, especially now that they had seen the danger in traveling with him.

For a moment he chewed on his tongue, biting back a harsh word as he decided to simply respond in a calm and even tone. "I take responsibility. For both death and injury."

Especially with what was to come.

After Myrra spoke, he slowly turned towards her.

"There will be a priest, and he will need to die." He assured her. "Though he is only one of many."

Each of the Elder Gods had their own Temple, and each had their own priesthood. Where they traveled was a special case, though he could not yet speak of what he thought they would find. With a single motion he moved towards the door, once more stepping into the streets of the city.
 
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Annoying as it was, Nasir’s unflappable calm was admirable. His was the sort of control that took years, if not lifetimes, to master, and Kassa silently wished she had that sort of talent. It could come in handy in the future, as it already had in the quickly receding past.

She frowned when she realized that she had spoken not only for herself but Myrra as well, which was certainly not her right. Happily, Myrra appeared to agree with her, and was not going anywhere either save for Nasir’s same destination for an ominous purpose. Killing a high priest was a dangerous endeavor; usually they had remarkable resources, and there was the chance of angering their god, plus any number of their disciples. Kassa wasn’t looking forward to the murder, but she was stuck with Myrra for now.

She crossed her arms as she followed Nasir back out into the streets, hoping that more like the stranger who had escaped was an infrequent accident. At the same time, though, she hoped to encounter him again, if only to sate a bloodthirsty want to kill inconvenient coincidences.

For now, the Temple and their vile, if righteous, crime awaited them.
 
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Good. They were all aligned then. Myrra generally did not like killing. Truthfully she'd only had to take lives a few times in the past and it was typically to defend herself or someone else. This time was different.

Vengeance was a powerful emotion but she could almost taste its sweetness as she fantasized facing the priest from the vision. The man who was most responsible for her difficult upbringing. The one who caused her so much turmoil and pain as she aged. As she tried to find some semblance of normalcy in her life only to lead her here. To a strange shop, underground, with a knife wound in her hand.

The drow followed Nasir and Kassa out onto the street. The multi-colored vines and mushrooms shone brightly until her scarlet eyes readjusted to the change in illumination.

"Let me be the one to do it," she said to Nasir. She figured he'd realize she had meant the priest.
 
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As they wandered through the streets Nasir began to notice things that had changed. Small alcoves in certain buildings, certain reliefs that had been recreated, things that once might have been held as sacred. For some reason it made him feel uneasy, as though he were in a place that was no longer welcome.

In truth such a notion had never really struck him. He knew that the nobility would want him dead, knew that the priests would see him burned, but he had always assumed the people would once again side with him. The idea that things had changed, it made his stomach churn somewhat. A frown touched his lips, hood shifting as Myrra fell into step besides him.

He glanced at her, and then slowly nodded. "If it's what you wish."

After nearly an hour more of walking they took a turn, happening upon a large square. A fountain stood in the middle of it, the central relief depicting a Drider that appeared very much like Malgadrin. The great spider Queen seemed posed in a prayer, half hunched as water gently bubbled from her mouth and fell into the waters below.

Relief washed over Nasirs face to see the statue, though it was quickly washed away as he caught sight of the building behind it. "So this is what she meant."

He remembered Malgadrin's Temple within the Undercity. He remembered the statues depicting her warriors, the mosiac showing her children, the great marble webs that had built the structure itself

All of that was now gone.

Replacing it was a monstrosity of a building, sharp lines with stained glass depicting a what Nasir recognized as Vrylla, one of the Elder God's worshipped by the Noble families. Disgusting and bile filled his throat, and Nasir struggled not to lash out at the building itself.

"This way." Nasir said as he cut across the square and moved towards the front doors.
 
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Though she said nothing, Kassa’s lips pursed as Myrra expressed her wish to be the one. It was clear what and who she meant; her desire for vengeance could be heard in her voice, and seen in her eyes. It was something else she shared with Kassa, who knew that sort of conviction, that kind of desire, quite well. But the need for vengeance was a dangerous thirst, for it changed the person who committed it in irrevocable ways, changed them even more than when they first decided to devote themselves to chasing it. Kassa wondered, and worried, how it might change Myrra.

She followed Nasir along the roads, through the Undercity, distracted himself from these unwanted thoughts by looking upon the strange and beautiful architecture. The lights continued on and around them, arranged in ways to highlight the best of each building while providing enough light to see and travel by. The artistry here was incredible, and Kassa remained impressed until at last they came upon the temple, located ironically past Malgadrin’s statue.

It was different, in every single bad way, from the rest of the buildings of the Undercity. The angles were sharp and unforgiving, abrupt and almost crude. The stained glass was catching, and ruined by the depiction of something threatening and powerful, something Kassa guessed must be an avatar, or, more likely, a deity of the sort Nasir did not like. Judging by the expression she saw glancing across his face, Kassa knew his opinion of this god was unfavorable.

She steeled herself as she stepped after him. There was no other way inside that she could see but the front doors, and wondered what awaited them as they boldly entered.
 
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The building before them looked like no temple Myrra had ever seen. Massive, intricate shapes all seemed to expand and twisted up into the height of the cavern. It seemed almost as if the structure itself emitted an imposing black light which served as an uninviting omen. She gulped down hard and followed lock step behind Kassa Lia and Nasir.

Was the figure of Malgadrin in the courtyard significant?

It seemed as if Nasir's entire demeanor had shifted once he saw the statue situated out in the courtyard of this so-called holy place. Had this once been different?

As she stepped into the temple of Vrylla a strong stench of incense filled her nostrils and the younger drow couldn't help but issue a cough. Various statues of ebony, obsidian, and dark bronze littered the walls and platforms within the temple. A few well dressed dark elves could be seen kneeling at various altars. Up ahead, underneath a massive stained glass arrangement, sat a gigantic golden table.

Even from back here she could make it out. Atop the yellowed platform sat an ornately decorated knife and crimson blotches of what she could only assume was blood. Did the drow conduct ritualistic sacrifices? Above the sacrificial table, before the stained glass, towered a mighty statue of what she imagined was the patron god of this place. Across its chest was etched a word written in her language that she, somehow, recognized despite Nasir never teaching it to her...

Vrylla.
 
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The silent chanting inside the temple was suddenly silenced as the sound of slamming doors echoed throughout the open hall.

Nasir slowly walked to the center of the room, his hand raised, soft purple flames washing over his flesh. Bright blue eyes slowly sailed over the inside of the Templar, a deep frown pulling further at his lips every passing second.

He could feel eyes on him, the well dressed Dark Elves all having turned towards the three intruders as soon as the doors shut behind them.

"What is the meaning of this. This is the House o-"

The words came in the sing song melodic tones of the Drow, spoken by a man in deep black robes with slashes of gold cut into the shoulders. Nasir slowly turned his eyes towards him. "The Courtesy of this hall has lessened since the last time I stood within it."

Murmurs ran among the Drow arranged around the room, some of them whispering, others gasping in quiet shock as recognition dawned on them. Some would have been too young to remember, but others had already realized who he was.

One woman fell to her knees, head bowed as she began a prayer. Several others followed suit, though one broke off and slowly began to walk towards the doors.

A loud snap rang out, and suddenly the fleeing man began to scream. His voice echoed through the halls, agony and pain taking him as his entire body began to fall into dust. Nasir paid it no mind, slowly walking towards the alter and the man clad in black.

"Were you all so eager to forget your history?" He asked, switching to the common tongue. "So foolish as to think there would be no consequence?"

The priest took a step back as Nasir approached him, slowly reaching behind his back for something.
 
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Inside, the temple’s walls arched and slanted in sharp angles, as complex and bewildering as its exterior. There were altars, flickering candles, statues and stained glass portraits – and at the center of it all, the golden table and the hideous representation of the deity here who reigned supreme. Kassa’s eyes beheld the sculpture for but a moment before falling to the table and the crimson splotches scattered over it.

A normal human, man or woman, might wonder, and deny what it was out of sheer horror. But Kassa was beyond normal, and her senses detected what it was, and not only that, she could smell it, almost feel it. Blood, freshly spilled. Animal blood, or something more sinister?

Nasir spoke in his natural tongue, and Kassa could imagine what he said that sent whispers and prayers and dismayed murmurs throughout the temple. And she could only imagine what it felt like, the torture of being turned to ash as was the fate of the drow who tried to flee. The onlooking drow, priests and acolytes most likely, began to shout, some falling to their knees as if in supplication, while others screamed what sounded like threats.

Kassa stepped back, allowing Nasir and Myrra to confront the drow who had spoken, the dark elf whose ornate robes marked him above and apart from the rest. The High Priest no doubt, if such a title existed here and meant the same. Her eyes watched the others who served him, giving warning glance to all. No one would be allowed to escape.
 
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For a brief second the dark elven woman felt a tinge of sympathy towards the temple goers. Their faces turned to horror at the sight of Nasir, their prays were intense as they asked whatever gods they worshipped for aid, and it had been clear that while many recognized Nasir most knew him only by name. Likely grim tales of a drow who murdered and attempted to end their way of life.

Sympathy and pity subsided though once she locked eyes on the elf by the bloodied altar. The pigmentation of his skin was a soft gray, made more dazzling by the splendor of his robes. He had the audacity to parade around in jet black, ornately decorated, silk with a gold patterned trimming. His eyes were a violet color, common for the priestly class... or so Nasir had informed her.

Myrra's demeanor shifted and scarlet eyes burned with the fury of a lifetime abroad. A lifetime of being that black elven freak living among humans. This priest was the catalyst for all of it. The one who insisted she be cast aside.

Her good hand stretched outwards towards the priest. Around her wounded hand ice crystals formed before she raised that one as well. In an instance a swirl of bubbling water surrounded the priests head. He clawed at his face as the liquid twisted and twirled around rapidly to restrict his breathing. The icicles in her bloodied palm formulated to a single point before sailing through the auditorium to this sick god. It impacted directly into the gut of the priest and he grappled at it in pain before remembering that he still couldn't breath.

Footsteps approached the holy man as the woman came nearer to him. The water enveloping his face grew in size so that he couldn't rush in a sudden direction and obtain a gasp of air. She wanted him to know who did this.

"My name is Myrra Zaeneir," she stated loud enough for only he to hear it. His eyes could be seen through the rippling waves and they reeked of horror. Myrra was numb to his pain though and numb to the screams that rang out from the other patrons, the pounding steps as others attempted to flee, and any other attempts from her comrades to subdue her.

She was singularly focused on the drowning of this dark elven cretin.
 
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Nasir watched the priest, his gaze flickering to Myrra for only a brief second.

He could see the rage on her face, the anger floating across her features. He recognized himself in that gaze, the way that he had treated his enemies during the revolution, during the slaughters. It was oh so familiar, and...he couldn't help but revel in it.

Never once had he asked himself if he was a good man. Never once had he wondered if such a concept even deserved to be applied to him. He knew what he was, knew what he did. The world he wanted to create was not for his like.

Not for monsters.

Was it for Myrra? Was she like him. His gaze flickered to her for a moment, and he wondered if he should intervene. He almost took a step forward, but then noticed something out of the corner of his eyes. One of the other Drow began to move.

The instant he did Nasir snapped his fingers.

Walls of purple fire burst through the room, two of them cutting through the Temple to partition. A scream could be heard as the man who stepped forward touched the wall.

The moment gone, Nasir spoke. "On the Altar."

He suggested loud enough for the dying priest to hear. Panic filled his eye, more than there had been before. Even as he struggled for life he struggled even more to get away.
 
All too soon had those screams of rage and threats turned to ones of pleas and begging, of fear and pain. It was a sound familiar to Kassa, and while it might have dismayed any other, she had long grown accustomed and immune to their intended effect. She watched silently, with indifferent eyes, as Myrra exacted her vengeance and Nasir divided the temple with two hellish barriers.

Acolytes and lesser priests had begun to run. A few tried casting spells, blue, lavender, and violet light colliding against Nasir’s purple flames, all in vain. More than one made the mistake of touching one of the barriers, falling back with cries of agony. Those who made to flee into the deeper recesses of the temple found their way barricaded by a second barrier, and soon the room was full of kneeling drow, furtively praying or screaming or begging.

The High Priest was now scrambling, his nails breaking against the floor as he tried even then to escape. He had no intention of following Nasir’s command.

Kassa stepped forward. “Let me help, dear,” she said.

She lifted a hand, and ice again the telltale temperature in the air surrounding her dropped. Her shadow around her suddenly seemed to grow, not around her but upward, coalescing into a shapeless black mass that writhed and suddenly divided into ropes and chains. Whipping out, they seized the priest, wrapping around his ankles and wrists. They bore him up and flung him unceremoniously onto the altar, so hard the golden surface shook with the force. He struggled against the binding that now held him fast, digging into his flesh.

Finally, he stopped. He lifted his head and glared hate, not at Nasir or Kassa, but at Myrra, spitting out one word.

Monster.”