Private Tales The Old Ways

[Velkyn]

Finally, the man at least caught the hint of a scent. Velkyn was worried that he would quite literally have to lead the man to water to make him drink. It had not been this difficult to make a fellow Drow paranoid since he'd induced his own father into madness.

"I am afraid not." He said with a slightly saddened expression.

"Open conspiracy is always much easier to find." Velkyn knew that from first hand experience. "No, I am afraid it is something more sinister. Jealousy can often stir plots, and here I see many people look at you with an envious eye."

His head shook. "A trip like this presents opportunity."

Velkyn spelled out.

"Perhaps I am just being paranoid, but..." He trailed off for a moment. "Watch yourself my friend."

He offered, taking a step away from Yithrel and intent on joining the others once more.

 

[Xylthe]

Yithrel looked nervous and his eyes darted to the darker parts of the tunnel as though some phantom villain might suddenly reveal himself with a tall hat and a twirling moustache. After hesitating for a moment he shook himself, plastered a fake smile on, and then followed after Velkyn to the others.

Xylthe looked far less pink and more like her natural shade of red after a bit of water and something a lot stiffer from the Mindflayer who had insisted she drank from the cannister he'd kept at his belt. She hastily gave it back when she saw Velkyn approaching which made the odd creature laugh.

"He won't mind you having a few drops of whisky, child. Much better than a servant who cannot serve if she's passed out. Besides, we wouldn't want Yithrel's luck to get any worse."

 

[Velkyn]

His mind turned over with a dozen steps forward. He would need to make sure to position Yithrel in the correct way, would need to plant the correct rumors among those in the party and-

Velkyn's eyes fell onto Xylthe and the Mindflayer standing besides her. A scowl almost immediately pulling at his lips as he spotted the Illithid. With quick steps he moved over towards the pair. "Don't drink that."

He hissed.

The words were quiet, though loud enough for both Xylthe and the creature to hear. In a strange way the dweller of the deep was right, but in this case not so. Velkyn knew well how him and his kin worked, what they desired in their heart of hearts.

"Leave." He told the creature.

Not a second wasted on poise or etiquette.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe went cold all over with fear which chased away the small bit of warmth she had gained from the drink. She shrunk back from her master, all but vanishing underneath the Lizard in an attempt to hide whilst the Mindflayer walked away with a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears brewing in her eyes. "I-I couldn't refuse. He insisted, "she all but squeaked. She had indeed been quite fine with just water but the Mindflayer had insisted it would help her feel better and... truthfully it had. Though Velkyn's piercing gaze made her debate putting her fingers down her throat to throw it up again.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn's frown almost immediately turned into a scowl.

His eyes flickered over Xylthe and towards the Illithid who was already in conversation with one of the other groups. The bottle he had given Xylthe was now tucked away somewhere on his person, and the tendrils on his face twitched with what Velkyn knew to be a smile.

"If you begin to feel ill in three hours time." Velkyn said, his eyes drawing down to her. "Find me."

For now, Xylthe was still too valuable to lose.

There was a chance that the mindflayer was simply toying with him. Adding to the paranoia and chaos within the Hunt Party. But, if what he suspected would come to pass, then he would have to rebuke the creature.

A lesson would need to be taught. "Understand?"

The Drow asked.

 

[Xylthe]

All the colour she had regained from drinking whatever had really mean in the Mindflayers flask vanished from her face once more and it looked as though she might sick it all up then and there.

"Y-yes Master," she whispered, clutching at the simple silver talisman she wore around her neck. A traitorous corner of her mind quietly suggested that it would be better to curl up and die in peace and not be used any longer by Velkyn, or whatever Master would follow him. But her desire to survive was still strong enough that she recoiled from the idea. The Goddess of the Dark did not yet call her to her domain.

The slain beast was loaded onto a wagon pulled by goat-like creatures who rolled their eyes and pawed the ground at the stench, then was led back the way they had come with the hunting party trailing over. Despite the death of three of their number in the first hunt the party were in high spirits when they returned to the sound of trumpets.

 

[Velkyn]

The Encampment had somehow gotten worse during their absence.

Which was to say it now looked more like a carnival than it did a camp for a Hunt. Tents were now fully erected and pulled into place, slashes of house colors decorating them. Three separate bonfires had been lit, and even tables were set out.

It was a mark of the opulence these Drow had been able to live in for the last decades. A mark of how far they had drifted from the Old Ways. Disgust flickered through Velkyn's features for a brief moment, hidden by a shroud of shadows before it disappeared.

"My Lord, you'll of course join the main banquet?"​

Velkyn almost killed the man where walked. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it."

If only for an opportunity to frame the man's wife.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe all but fell off her lizard and stumbled several steps away. Was it just her mind playing tricks on her or did she not feel well? And was that feeling down to what had been in the flask or the general exhaustion of the day? Her poor nerves were frayed, her mind plagued with long dead memories, and she wanted nothing more than to climb into her cot and sleep for the rest of the day.

She wavered like a reed in the wind as Velkyn spoke with the others. Once they were alone walking back to his tent, she asked:

"Do you require anything more of me tonight Sir... or can the others see to your needs for the feast?" She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.

 

[Velkyn]

There was a brief glance, a look that might have been concern from any ordinary person. "You are dismissed."

The Drow told her firmly.

"But remember what I said." Paranoia might have been a mark for the species, but it was an instinct that had kept Velkyn alive far longer than many of his kin. He would not take chances with Xylthe, not with all that she knew.

Eventually he would have to do something about the Illithid, particularly if his suspicions were true, but now was hardly the time for that.

With a short wave of dismissal Velkyn brushed Xylthe away. Quickly dressing himself for what would surely be a celebration, the Drow Lord left the tent behind. Clearly already annoyed at the humiliations he was going to have to endure at this so called party.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe hadn't really been expecting a yes. She'd been expecting a slap across the face and a few sharp words. So when Velkyn acquiesced her request she almost dropped and kissed his feet in relief. Instead she managed a low curtsey and then slipped off to the servants tent that had been erected for her and a few other maids. Undressing, she crawled into her cot and closed her eyes. Shadowy phantoms of the day played behind her closed lids leading to uneasy sleep.

The dinner was already in full swing by the time Velkyn arrived with Lord Yithrel already retelling the story in a much more positive light for himself.

"And then-- There he is!" he raised a glass and the people gathered cheered. "The Slayer!"

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn cringed inwardly.

He wanted to scream at them, tell them how pathetic they truly were and how much damage they had done to Drow at large. These fat little rodents had gorged themselves on their connection to the surface, and now they were but shadows of what they would have been.

Part of him wondered if he should not just eradicate the whole of the city. If what little of what was left of his people were even worth saving at all. Every moment spent among them was like a knife twisted in his belly.

He could hardly stand it. "Ah, my companions. There is no need for such things."

The lie on his tongue tasted bitter, but a wide smile played on his lips.

"Any one of you would have done the same." He said. "If you had the skill!"

A laugh ruptured through the crowd at his 'joke', Lord Yithrel in particular nearly doubled over. The man called over to him, waving and eagerly pointing to the seat on his right which remained empty. Velkyn moved over there quickly, nodding at the Noble's wife besides him.

Her tight smile the only greeting he received in return.

 

[Xylthe]

As the evening rolled on little changed amongst the party. Yithrel's retelling of the story grew more daring and more heroic the more he drank and by the end he was spilling his cup over Velkyn's shirt every time he clapped him on the back. In the end it was his wife who bid everyone a goodnight. She, in comparison to her husband, had been silent for the most of the party and had spent her time studying her new opponent.

Xylthe slept despite the nightmares and against all odds, did not once wake feeling unwell. In the morning she dressed feeling... better than she had for many days. It was wonderous what a full nights sleep could do. She even felt content enough to hum a quiet melody as she went about getting the Lords breakfast though she wisely stopped before entering his tent.

"Breakfast, my Lord," she announced and counted to five before entering.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn was sitting without his shirt at the small writing desk that had been brought along. A pointless luxury, but one that he was glad for in the moment as he scribbled something upon oddly colored parchment.

It was clear that the Drow had not slept a single minute, that rage flickered through the entirety of him. The body language he sat himself in was nothing less than pure simmering anger. His face, seen through a mirror, looked as though it were about to split open into a great hungry maw.

"Set it down." He motioned to the small stand besides him.

"I need to-" Velkyn cut himself off. "How is your head?"

It seemed an oddly caring question coming from someone like him. Yet as it came Velkyn turned away from the odd leathery parchment, putting his full attention on Xylthe for a moment.

An odd curiosity on his features.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe was half way to putting the tray down when Velkyn startled her with his full attention and question. She shot him a bewildered look, forgetting herself in the moment, then shook herself and finished setting down his food.

"I feel fine Sir," she explained and took the napkin from the tray to drape it across his lap, before taking off the cutlery and setting that down on a spare bit of his desk. "More than fine, in fact, the best I have felt--" she paused holding the bowl in her hand. She hadn't meant to say that. She had only meant to say that she was fine and to leave it at that. But even as she stood there she could feel the words unspoken wanting to come out and in the end they spilled from her.

"-- since you killed Maester Llywen," Xylthe all but dropped the bowl on the desk and clamped her hand over her mouth.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn's head slowly turned.

His eyes stared down at Xylthe as though he were perched atop a mountain. The look of disapproval on his features startling enough to make one flinch. Slowly he turned around, his head cocking to the side as he took a single step towards then.

Then his hand lashed out.

Without word of warning Velkyn's palm struck across the Avendrow's face, striking hard enough to draw blood. "Never!"

He hissed.

"Never speak of such things." The Drow said, rushing forward and immediately grabbing Xylthe's chin.

 

[Xylthe]

The crack of his hand across her face sent Xylthe stumbling. She clutched at her burning cheek and tears flowed freely down her cheeks, though she wished they wouldn't. She hadn't meant to say what she had either. It was as though somebody else had control.

"I d-d-didn't m-mean to," she managed to say between broken sobs as he gripped her chin in a bruising vice, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I c-couldn't.... s-stop. Like my m-mouth was on f-fire until I said it all," more tears flowed despite her best efforts to pull herself together.

"What's h-happening to me?" Xylthe whispered in fear.

 

[Velkyn]

Ah. Well now that explained it perfectly well did it not. Yet Velkyn did not say anything at all. Instead he simply stared at Xylthe, his eyes practically glued to hers as though he were searching for something. His hand did not come up again.

He did not strike her.

He did not yell.

Instead he simply watched her with a silent intensity that would have made most men balk in fear. Then, after a few moments he saw it. The slight flicker of movement, the shift that ran through Xylthe's eye. Like the wagging of a tail. "The Illithid."

He remarked coldly.

"The drink he gave you." Velkyn explained. "It was infected."

 

[Xylthe]

Panic seized the young Avendrow. She had thought, because she had not woken in pain nor sick, that the drink had been fine and that she had escaped. How foolish she had been. She was angry at herself for not having sought him out sooner as he had said, that she had allowed herself to believe someone would have shown her a small kindness in the form of a drink.

"Are you going to kill me?" she whispered, half in hope half in fear. After all, what use was a servant if they could not keep a secret of their masters? And Xylthe knew many, too many, to be allowed to live.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn chuckled. Perhaps because of the desperation in her tone, the mixture of fear and hope. Perhaps simply at the simplicity of her mind.

"No." The Drow answered, shaking his head as he slowly stood and took a step back and away from the Avendrow. There was a better way to use this situation, a way for him to get what he wanted. Which in the end of all this, was the most important thing.

"I suspect the Illithid has his own designs." He mused. "But..."

As he spoke Velkyn walked over towards the other end of the small tent. He glanced at the papers on the desk, slowly beginning to rifle through them. "He may be guided by someone else's hand."

After a moment he found the paper that he was looking for. "What you drank contained the hatchlings of a Urth'el Worm."

Velkyn continued in explanation, picking up the parchment and turning back towards Xylthe.

"Do you know what they are?" He asked, studying the paper and expecting another truth to fall from her lips.

 

[Xylthe]

"No," Xylthe whimpered. She wanted her sentence to end there, for her lips to seal themselves shut for that was all he needed, but that sensation of nausea grew and grew until she added. "I was a Priestess in training, how would I know anything of the dark arts?" she winced and tensed her jaw. It was like this worm found every personal thought and forced it from her lips, whether it was truth or a nugget of information about herself.

 

[Velkyn]

"Hm." Velkyn intoned curiously.

This was not a piece of information that he had known before, but then again he had never really asked. Where Xylthe was from or why had never really occurred to him. One did not care where a tool was made, just that it worked as it should.

Slowly he stepped forward. "They are a parasite."

He explained.

"Burrowing into the mind and forcing forth secrets." For the worms it was a feast, a rush of endorphins and other chemicals that they could use to thrive. "Given enough time, they will kill you."

Though not before those they infected spilled every little thing they knew. "Interesting little creatures, though not used often by my people."

He commented, watching Xylthe carefully. Now curious to see what else she would divulge in her panic.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe seemed to completely forget herself and sunk down into the chair that only yesterday the Lady Yithrel had sat in. She didn't even notice how he used the term 'my people' instead of 'our people', something that might had bothered her on another day. She put her head in her hands and let her long silver hair swing forward to obscure her face. It wasn't the prospect of death that caused her such anxiety or stress, but rather what Velkyn would ask of her in order to remove it from her. From his calm disposition he obviously knew how to get rid of it, or maybe he just didn't care if she died, but Xylthe was willing to bet it was the former.

She was still useful. If fixed.

"What do you want?" she asked finally and bluntly, looking up at him with open loathing.

 

[Velkyn]

Amusement flickered over his features. Any other time the words, her tone, the attitude she took would have earned her a beating.

Yet there was something novel about this behaviour.

He would have to remember it after this was all done. "The Ritual to remove the worms will take time to prepare."

The little parasites were sly things, and one had to be careful when plucking them from the mind. One wrong move and it could leave the victim permanently damaged. Which would of course make Xylthe utterly useless to him.

A slave who could do nothing was no slave at all.

"Tell me then." He said as he began to walk over towards another desk within the tent. "Your history before your previous Master."

 

[Xylthe]

It was an innocent question from any other, but from Velkyn Xylthe found herself wondering what part of her past he would use as an excuse to have her killed later on. She could, of course, be wrong. Maybe he simply sought to use her past talents in the future. She had not always been a scribe like she had been with Master Llywen. But her history was full of turmoil and it was a long, complicated tale. She did not think he wanted to hear it all, yet the sensation in her mind made her think if she did not start somewhere soon he would have to suffer it all whether he wished to or not.

"I was born in the City of Starlight, and I was raised by the Priestesses of Aerubla," she began slowly whilst her mind raced to find a way to condense 500 years in a few sentences in a way that wouldn't make her head implode. "There was a... war..." her memory was hazy on the details but the outcome was what mattered. "We lost, those that survived were sold into slavery," she picked at a thread on her dress. "I've had 21 masters over the last 500 years, not including you."

 

[Velkyn]

"Hm." Velkyn intoned as he began to dabble with some of the things at his desk. Musing for a few seconds as he traced a line of something on a small wooden board.

"Aerubla." He said the name with some derision in his tone. "Her protection never counted for much."

The Drow slowly turned towards Xylthe. "Perhaps that is why so many of us have forgotten the Old Gods."

There was a frown on his face for a moment, and then he stepped forward.

"I suppose someone more kind than I would commend you for having survived for so long." The Drow Lord said as he slowly began to step towards her. "But then again, perhaps your other masters saw just how useful you could be."

He stuck out the small wooden plank. "Bite this."