Private Tales The Old Ways

[Xylthe]

Had her new Master just admitted an attack was coming from the surface? One he had engineered? How many people would die just so he could get a stronger footing of power? Xylthe felt the blood drain from her face and she thought she might be sick.

The Lady Yithrel, however, only smiled then stood.

"Well, that is certainly... interesting to hear, Lord Velkyn. Perhaps I might make a comment to my husband it is beyond due for our soldiers to have a few training sessions closer to home in case this strong hand is really needed," she nodded to herself as though a plan were forming. "I shan't keep you any longer, I've left the ladies too long. Good day," she inclined her head then swept from the tent.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn watched the other Drow carefully.

Every twitch of her lips, every little blink. He read her as he might have a book, studying as though some hidden secret might yet still come out. Quite impressively, she gave absolutely nothing away. It was a feat that he had not seen from many others, and he thought Lady Yithrel might even have done well in the Eternal City.

When the tent flap fell closed behind her Velkyn mused. ”A remarkable woman.”

Young, for their people, but clearly far more deft than her husband could ever hope to be. Such talent was oft bereft in the outer cities. He wondered briefly where she had come from, if she had climbed her way to the top or had already been graced with status and nobility from birth.

If he’d had to guess, he would have said the former.

”I wonder if she’ll betray me.” Velkyn was no fool. Among their people there was no such thing as trust. Even the bonds of family did no easily stay a knife in the back, something which he knew better than most.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe truly hoped she did not. When a lord died his servants did soon after. Though... it had been the Lady Yithrel who had offered to purchase her when they had first met, perhaps she would spare her.

They were uncomfortable thoughts.

"I'm sure not, My Lord," Xylthe said with all the confidence of a small mouse. "Lady Yithrel is a good ally to have in the court. She has not always been so quick to create partnerships from what I have seen," she was a woman who liked to play her cards close to her chest and to make her own mind up rather than be turned by someone else. She had never really gotten along with her last master, but then, not many of them had. Llywen had been a forward thinker even foe council. His allies had tended to be the humans, dwarves and other races who sought to make a home in these realms.

"Lord Yithrel on the other hand..." she paused. "My apologies, Sir, that was not my place."

 

[Velkyn]

In the old Cities Xylthe would have been beaten and perhaps even whipped for even opening her mouth. There would not have been a question to it, no hesitation. Slaves had no place in governance, was what many of his forebears has thought.

Velkyn was not of the same mind.

Oh there was a time and place of course. If she had dared speak in Lady Yithrel's presence, or worse, countermand his own musings Velkyn would have gladly seen the avendrow stripped bare and thrown onto the nearest stake. But she had not done so, she had stayed quiet, watched, and listened.

That was a value that slaves had. Among their people servants and slaves were lesser. They were often ignored and overlooked, and through such means they saw and heard many more things than they had any right to. Velkyn knew this, and it was part of why he had kept Xylthe in the first place. She was not just a slave, but a tool. One he would use to break Raath.

"No." The Drow said with a wave, slowly making his way towards a chair within the tent. "Continue."

He bade her continue as he sat himself in the plush throne. Eager to hear her insight on Lord Yithrel and his pursuits.

Velkyn suspected the man was much more a fool than even he knew.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe shuffled her feet uncomfortable. Whilst he had bade her to continue his mood could very well change if she said the wrong thing, or said it in the wrong manner. After all, regardless of Velkyn's thoughts, Yithrel was still a lord and she nothing more than dirt. Or at least that was how she saw it.

Taking a small breath she sent a prayer to the Goddess she had once served and continued.

"Lord Yithrel has a... reputation amongst the servants My Lord. He comes and gos at all hours and is often seen... not in a fit state," which was as polite a way as she dared to say the word drunk. "He gambles a lot and his Steward once told me it was only the Lady Yithrel's family and money that have kept them afloat for so long. I do not know the particular details of her family My Lord as they do not reside this close to the surface, but the servants she brought with her are the only ones she trusts still to this day."

 

[Velkyn]

None of the information was particularly surprising. Yithrel seemed more a fool to be put on parade than Lord to sit on a throne. His family had acclaim, but no credit.

It was a story that was not uncommon in the Underrealm.

Without the tenants of the Old Gods many of his people had fallen into debauchery. Worshiping only when it fit their own queries and needs. The same had happened to Velkyn's own parents. They had allowed the House to fall into disarray and decrepitude. A fate unfit for them.

He considered for a moment, and then suddenly laughed.

"Ah." Velkyn said with a shake of his head. "I understand her now."

He mused. "He is a convenient front."

Velkyn mused out the obvious. Many had likely already come to the same conclusion as he, including those whom Lord Yithrel considered 'friends'. Yet none of them would foretell what would come next, the knife which loomed over the man's next.

"She plans to kill him." The Drow chuckled.

 

[Xylthe]

Whilst her master laughed, Xylthe looked as though she might be sick. Logically she knew that in Velkyn's plans many would die but to hear it out loud and to be said so flippantly made her feel ill. Yithrel had never been unkind to her. A bit leery but far more respectful than Ithaca or the dwarven lords.

"W-would that be wise?" it was certainly not her place to question things and she must have realised how it would sound initially for she hurried on, her hands wringing together. "Do you not require subjects, My Lord? And good servants?" Yithrel despite his flaws would be far better as a puppet that she or other base servants would be.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn glanced over towards Xylthe with a look of curiosity.

For a few seconds his eyes narrowed, as if he were searching for something, and then he began to explain. "For her? Yes. It would be wise."

He explained.

"His death would mean a number of things for her, most of them positive." It all depended on how the man was to be killed of course, but Velkyn had a sneaking suspicion. The woman was a crafty one. "She plans to pin the murder on me."

Velkyn elaborated further.

 

[Xylthe]

The punishment for murder was death, so whether she decided to betray him and slide the knife in herself or wait for the executioners axe, the result would be the same. The idea of Velkyn dying stirred a strange cocktail of emotions within Xylthe; despair, fear, and a feverish hope. It made her tremble like a leaf and her hands clutched at her black skirts to try and stop it showing so badly.

"W-w-what will you do?" she whimpered. Her fate was tied to his as much as she loathed it.

 

[Velkyn]

It a was a good question, what would he do?

The Lady Yithrel likely thought him an easy mark. It was almost certain that she did in fact believe in the Old Ways, hence her willingness to commit such a heinous act, but her own advantage lay with Raath remaining more or less the way it currently was.

With her husbands death she would gain his estates, his privilege, and her power. If she pinned it on Velkyn, a most believable culprit, then she would very likely make a move for his own base of power next. It made perfect sense. In a way he even admired her. The move was bold, but she had miscalculated.

He let a moment more pass, and then he answered the slave. "I believe it will be best if Lord Yithrel learns of his beloveds treachery."

Velkyen declared.

"Such duplicity is after all..." He smiled. "Heartbreaking."

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe had never been trained in the way of politics. Her duty and lot in life had been to serve the Dark Sister, then to be a servant to whoever could pay the most. But over the years she had picked up a few things and Velkyn's plan, though she didn't like it one bit, did make sense. Lord Yithrel was a prime puppet and Velkyn was the one who wanted to be the only master in this game.

Before she could say anything though, the tent flaps burst open to reveal the man they had just been discussing.

"AH! There you both are, not tired already are you eh?" he boomed, wine goblet sloshing over his hand as he gestured. "The scouts have found something, the game is a foot. Quickly! Before we lose it!"

 

[Velkyn]

The fool came to play his part. For a brief moment Velkyn felt a flicker of dread, but only because he would have to take his own stage. His expression turned to a wide smile, and he quickly stepped forward. ”How excellent!”

He mused.

”Here I thought we’d be stuck in camp a few days.” In truth, he probably would have preferred it.

There would have been more time to think and plan. Perhaps even an opportunity to speak some of the others which had come on this trip. It was a shame that they would find themselves restricted to the hunt so soon, but…perhaps he could make something of that as well.

”Xylthe.” Velkyn snapped his fingers. ”Fetch my spear, leave the bow.”

“A man of direct action! I thought you were the type!”

Lord Yithrel called as Velkyn stepped outside, the latter trying his best not to roll his eyes.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe looked at the three spears along the wall of the tent and began to sweat. She opened her mouth to ask but it was too late, and perhaps it was for the better she hadn't had a chance to ask for it no doubt would have resulted in some physical rebuke of her lack of intelligence. Running her eyes across them she gathered all three instead. Perhaps if he lost one he might need the other? She sighed. One of the many other serfs would have been far better suited to this task.

"No, no girl, give those over to the stewards," Lord Yithrel waved at men atop horses who looked like they could ride and hold something. "Your job is luck, remember?" he held out his own spear and his smile deepened. "Give it one of your little blessings."

Xylthe glanced across to Velkyn then swallowed and nodded, murmuring something faintly over the spear.

"Excellent! I'm sure to kill it now," he beamed and hurled himself onto his horse. Dogs were braying and horns were blaring now. The Hunt was on.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn watched Xylthe as Yithrel bade her blessing, inwardly lamenting the superstition of his fellow Drow.

A thousand year ago his people had been mired in religion. They had worshiped the Old Gods, but their religion had become so tangled with ritual and pomp that it was hard to tell if they even still answered. The Priests had lied, the Witches had woven tales, and their Empire had fallen.

Then it had only gotten worse.

He had to try to keep the disgust from his features as he slowly turned away. "Let's be on with it!"

Velkyn called out, no longer able to stand and watch the display of idiocy.

He pulled himself up onto the strange lizard like mount as horns began to call. Within a few minutes the party rushed out of the cavern, dashing into the long great tunnels of the Underrealm. Darkness enveloping them almost instantly, yellow eyes peering through the abyss as only the barest glow of luminous plants dotted around them.

Together they moved like a roving warband, and as they traveled Velkyn stuck close to Yithrel. Eyes watching him like a hawk, waiting for the perfect moment.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe was more placed upon one of the lizard like creatures than mounted it herself. She gave a slight whimper, clutching at the array of spears, and then they were off through the tunnels.

It became clear very quickly why they had not brought their horses.

The lizards flew through the darkness, dashing up the side of walls and clearing jagged rocks. Their tongues flickered out before them alerting them to the dangers and tight spots even her Drow eyes struggled to see in this pitch of darkness. It had been a long while since she had live so far underground. But soon they did adjust and so she shut them for the darkness was far more comforting than seeing how close they were to danger on so many occasions.

Soon a shout went up ahead and a shadow detached itself from the others in the gloom.

"THERE!" Roared Yithrel and the lizards raced forward.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn's head snapped to the side almost instantly.

His features twisted as the wall itself seemed to shift and move. Rock seemed to peel itself away from the wall, drawing free and ripping itself into form. The tunnel itself seemed to shift and shake, shuddering as stones fell from the ceiling.

A loud scream echoed out as someone was crushed by a falling boulder, but the Drow's attention did not turn.

The creature broke free of it's ensconcement. Massive mandibles clicking, thousands upon thousands of legs stretching from it's stone covered body. Dozens of gray and black eyes turning almost immediately towards the hunting party. "Spear!"

Velkyn shouted at Xylthe.

Yet by the time the words left his mouth the creature was already moving forward. It surged from the wall, pouncing at the party as though it had been waiting for them all along.

Panic rose through the hunters, and Yithrel squealed as he tugged on the reigns of his mount in a desperate attempt to drag it away from the monster.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe wanted to cry. She had not asked for this, in fact she had begged not to some here for this specific reason. She knew what lay in these tunnels. There had been particularly cruel masters she had had over the years who would leave her in these tunnels as a punishment, then whatever had been left they would scrape off the walls and allow to heal.

The resulting fear however meant she threw the lance with all her might at Velkyn which, surprisingly, was with far more strength that one might have thought for it sailed cleanly through the air. The mind flayer had rallied and pulled his own lizard-beast around to Yithrel's side, slashing at the creature with a curved blade that glowed with a dark purple hue.

 

[Velkyn]

Fingers snapped up the spear with impeccable timing.

The weapon felt heavy in Velkyn's palm, and he quietly cursed the necessity of such a thing. Had it not been for the rules of honor established long ago he would have simply ripped the beast apart. With magic he could have torn it into pieces, but such a thing would have disrespected the hunt.

A silly notion for a hunter not to use his greatest tool. "To the left!"

He shouted, his voice echoing over the crashing sound of the great beast slamming against the earth. It's massive body whipping out and catching one of the servants. A loud crack rang out as bone was shattered and flesh torn.

Yithrel let out a bark of a laugh, his own spear lashing out into the creatures side.

A loud, guttural scream echoed from the beasts mouth. It's form whirling around and snapping it's massive jaws into Yithrel's mount. Tearing into the lizard and flinging the Drow onto the ground.

 

[Xylthe]

Yithrel went flying into the darkness but nobody seemed to care much. The focus was on the excitement of killing the beast. Xylthe flung another javelin at her master when she saw he was without one and then cowered back in her saddle, muttering prayers under her breath to the Goddess of the night to protect her from the hells she was facing. She hadn't prayed in a long time, the life of a Priestess far behind her, but every now and then that little habit crept back.

The beast put up a valiant effort though despite being pierced from more than one weapon. With a swipe of its meaty paws it knocked another rider from its mount. This one definitely died in the darkness; Xylthe heard his spine snap in half.

 

[Velkyn]

A curse echoed from Velkyn as another man was crushed. His head whipping around towards the darkness where Yithrel seemed all but entirely cowed.

The other Drow was rolling, his face now a mask of panic instead of cheer.

Lips pressed together as he caught the spear that Xylthe had thrown him. The weapon dragging through his fingers. He took a breath as the strange monster let out a trilling roar, the sound resounding and echoing through the tunnels.

Enough of this. Velkyn thought to himself.

His other hand snapped up, fingers grasping the tip of the spear. There was a pulse, ever so slight and barely visible even to the best of eyes. Shadows cloaked around the tip of the spear, and then the Drow whirled around. His arm cocked back, and with a quick jab he threw the spear.

It cut through the air, darting forward and striking the beasts side.

The monster bucked, and then shrieked with pain. It's whole body suddenly shifting and curling in on itself with pain and agony. A cheer went up.

"You struck it's heart!"​

Someone shouted as the monster screeched and wound itself into a ball, crashing to the ground in it's death throes.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe leaned over the side of her mount and promptly threw up.

Ironically, she didn't look the worst off out of the group and was definitely not the only one who had emptied her stomach. The sheer smell of the dying animals blood was making even the mind flayer look more grey than he had before and he pulled his lizard away with a grunt of disgust.

"Bind it to a mount! We will feat tonight!" he shouted and a few cries of agreement went up. Meat was scarce down here with so little being able to survive, but these beats would give them meat enough for a few days and its skin would serve as Velkyn's new rug no doubt.

Xylthe curled up as small as she could in her saddle and tried to stop herself form trembling.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn slipped from his saddle, a smile on his face.

There was no false bravado that fell from his lips. No pride that shone through. No one had noticed his little trick, but he still knew what he had done. Hunts like these were not about glory for him, and this one especially.

Quickly he made his way over towards Lord Yithrel. The man surrounded by half a dozen servants where he had fallen from his mount. He was waving some of them off, while taking the hands of others to pull himself to his feet.

As they surrounded him, Velkyn stepped over towards his mount.

A smile touched his face as he reached the beast, fingers flickering upwards. A small pulse ran through his palm, and suddenly a cut appeared within the harness of the saddle. Sliced as though it had been notched with a knife.

"Good show! I would have taken the beast myself if I hadn't fallen!"​

The fool bandied, and Velkyn nodded his head. "Yes, shame that you did..."

He answered, his lips turning to a frown as he gestured for Yithrel to come closer. His hand waving in a subtle gesture to the cut strap.

"But I fear, Lord Yithrel." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Your intended fate was to be much worse than a simple fall."

 

[Xylthe]

"Nonsense!" Yithrel laughed and pulled himself to his feet with the help of several nervous servants who quickly dusted him off. "That was just a wild beast, I should simply practise more - oh stop!" he shooed the servants away who dutifully bowed and backed off. Then he clapped a hand on Velkyn's shoulder. "Don't let that dwarf's threats get to you, Velkyn. You're perfectly safe amongst my men."

"M-my lady?" Xylthe opened a single eye from her huddled position on the lizards back. One of the serving boy's faces swam into view and he was holding a pitcher of water. "Drink, it'll help," he murmured and handed her a smaller glass. "When I saw my first... Morgbod, I fainted too."

 

[Velkyn]

The fool.

What had happened to their once great species? Before their Empire fell even the slightest threat would have seen reprisal. This idiot had so lost himself that he did not even take a clear threat seriously. Even if that threat was manufactured. "Oh I have no fear for myself."

Velkyn said with a shake of his head.

"I do not believe I was the target." With his free hand he gently grabbed the other Drow's shoulder, moving him away from the servants and whispering in his ear. "I implore you my friend, in all seriousness. Watch yourself."

His words were low. "There are more than a few on this trip jealous of your station."

It was an outright lie, but also the only way to appeal the mans ego.

 

[Xylthe]

This time, Yithrel did pause.

"Well..." there was a shred of dubiousness in his tone now. A small shred but enough for doubt to wedel in. "It wouldn't be the first time my station attracted some unsavoury characters," he tried to bravado it off with another smile but there was something different now. Something in the eyes. The smile faded all too quickly.

"Did you... What makes you say this, eh? I suppose you happened to overhear my plotters plotting earlier?" he grinned but this time it was forced.