Private Tales The Old Ways

[Xylthe]

Xylthe's half turned to glance over her shoulder at the towering Drow stalking her shadow like a lethal predator before turning back to her task. With her hands clasped in front of her they wouldn't be able to see the way they wrung the key in a nervous fashion as they walked the length of the library to the very back. Master Llywen had always joked the library hall should really be called a wing due to its sheer size and she felt it in that moment. In the silence with just their footsteps to punctuate it.

Finally two large iron wrought doors rose up, behind them thick oak ones. From her pocket she pulled a slim, silver key which she put into the iron doors and turned. There were a series of clicks and swirls before it opened and they passed through into another chamber, here with rarer books. It was then a short walk to the double oak doors inlaid with runes at the back. The magic coming off it prickled her nape but as soon as she slid the bloodied key into the lock the feeling vanished and the door opened into a large chamber with vaulted ceilings.

She took the archway to the left through which led them to what was clearly a workshop. There, against the wall were three large clay beings shaped to look like Drows if they had been crossed with orcs. They were huge, monstrous creatures with red glowing embers for eyes and though they stood motionless there was a sense they were watching.

"The Golems work by writing your instructions on a piece of paper and placing it in their mouth, under the tongue," she explained in her whisper-soft voice. Xylthe turned to the desk where some small notes had already been written. Picking one up that was about cleaning she rolled it up and then walked over to the golem. She had to go on her tip toes to reach the things mouth but once she placed the scroll under the tongue and stepped back the thing came to life...

... picked up a broom and begun to sweep.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn stood and watched with silent interest as Xylthe explained the 'golems', a frown pulling at his lips as he observed the abhorrent nature of the creatures.

The Reaver besides him seemed to tense, as though he were expecting some sort of trick. Fingers flickered to the sword at his back when Xylthe stuffed the paper into the golem's mouth, stepping forward towards the Avendrow.

Then the thing began to sweep.

A small flicker of amusement crossed Velkyn's features, his head shaking as he motioned for the Reaver to take a step back. "Fascinating."

It truly was. These creatures, if they could be made to do truly anything, could be very useful. Whomever had thought of them as a replacement for slaves held clearly very little imagination. Perhaps a good thing that he now lay dead on the library floor.

"Where did these things come from?" Velkyn asked. "Can they be shaped to...another form?"

Ideas already began to spring to mind.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe took a step back when the Reaver stepped forward. It was clear she saw a far bigger threat from the two Drow than she did the living monstrosities at her back. Perhaps if she had had more courage she would have written a new command before placing it into the golems mouth, one that would have attacked them or protected her. But she had been too terrified, in so much shock of the turn of her night, she hadn't thought ahead.

"From the dwarves," she answered and put the table between them. She had seen first hand that the Reavers couldn't be stopped by physical objects but it made her feel a tiny bit safer. Xylthe passed the movement off as one of necessity to examine the sheets of paper scattered on the desk.

"Master Llywen was in talks about ones that looked like horses which would not tire or dislike the dark like the surface ones," her eyes scanned over the letters.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn frowned. He had hoped that the creatures had been shaped by the Master of this house, that perhaps Xylthe could have learned, or even knew the process. The thought that someone else was crafting them was...displeasing.

"I see." The Drow Lord said.

For a moment he lingered, staring at the sweeping monstrocity before he stepped over towards the table that Xylthe had occupied herself with. He glanced down at the papers, reading more common. A click of his tongue echoed out, head shaking. "What else do you know of your masters works?"

He asked, his gaze slowly falling onto her.

"His dealings." Yellow eyes seemed to narrow. "His role here in the city."

If he had a resource, he was going to use it.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe's mouth went dry when he looked at her. A good head taller than her she had to tilt her chin up even standing to meet his eyes, not that she wanted to. Doing so could well be seen as an act of aggression or a revolt. So her eyes skittered away from his and back down to the table.

Focus, breathe...

She wanted to vomit.

"His role was to bring trade, Sir," she explained and after he discarded a piece of paper she automatically filed it neatly back into the right order with the pile she had been looking through. Xylthe was careful though. She never reached for one, always waited until he was fully focused two pages on to pick it up. "He had a place on the Council who run Raath, and he... held the metaphorical purse strings, Sir. His... role was to see the money was invested right. Hence the Golems, Sir. You... you don't have to feed Golems. Or clothe them. He worked out they were a cheaper investment than slaves..."

 

[Velkyn]

He'd known about the mans place on the council. It was one of the other reasons that he had chosen to target this house. The power of the purse was a strong one, and Velkyn intended to hold it in just the right way to bend things to his will.

Velkyn raised an eyebrow for a moment at the mention once again of the superiority of these things over slaves. He only stared at her in silence.

In his own experience, the cost of feeding slaves wasn't much worth it either. It was better to make them feed themselves. Small plots of lands, cared for by them. Perhaps not a possibility here in Raath. Something that he would perhaps have to consider.

The one thing he did know was that slaves came freely. These Golems? He would be beholden to the dwarves.

A prospect he could not stand. Much less allow.

"These dwarves." He continued. "They are in Raath?"

Did someone else have access to these creatures? That possibility was utterly unacceptable.

 

[Xylthe]

Her hand hovered, waiting for him to relinquish the page he was holding.

"Yes, Master," those golden eyes rose once more to his face when she felt his eyes boring into her skull. She managed to hold them for two seconds before she looked towards the Reaver and then back to the Golems. She appeared to be considering her words carefully for it took a while before she continued.

"They were employed by Master Llywen. But they were also... friends. Colleagues. Master Llywen helped build them with the dwarves. He made this one himself," she nodded to the one she had woken. It had stopped sweeping the floor and had bent to scoop what it had collected up into a pan before proceeding to deposit it in the bin.

Done with its chore it put itself back into position and shut back down. His mouth opened when it did and the crumbs of paper fell from his mouth, turning to pieces of dust.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn glanced over towards the golem.

He played the words over in his head, considering. There was no doubt that these dwarves came here in order to fulfill their work. The creatures after all were here themselves. A frown touched his lips for a moment, and then a plan became to form. "Good."

The Drow Lord said quietly.

"You'll bring them here." There was no question to his words. "End of the week...I think."

He would need time to arrange things. "I'll see to their cooperation, and the work will continue."

This was a valuable resource, and he would not squander it.

Though, he did have a suspicion that the avendrow would be useful for more than just these golems. So far she had shown a remarkable talent, a most valuable slave. He would have to ensure to keep her leash tight.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe wasn't sure she wanted to know how he intended to ensure their cooperation. Instead she merely picked up her skirts and curtseyed low as was proper when receiving an order of such.

"As you command it, so it shall be," she intoned the words she had been taught when the manacles had first been placed on her wrists. Being cut off from her magic had felt like having an arm chopped off but now, 500 years later, she could barely remember the feeling of using it. What she could remember was the pain of lashes across her back when she hadn't said those words.

"Is there anything else I may help you with tonight, Sir?"

 

[Velkyn]

If he was happy that one person lived in this temple of inadequacy, he was glad that it was someone who actually understood their place.

"No." Velkyn said as he waved a hand dismissively.

Much had come of this, more than he had thought there would be. The Drow had assumed that Llywen had been little more than a fool. In fact he assumed most of his kin that associated with the surface were little more than fools.

Yet these golems, there was value to be had here.

What else had the man found? More importantly, how could Velkyn best use it to take Raath for himself. There was much yet to study, much to find out. "Uriel, bring her to her chambers."

He said absently, studying the papers on the table still.

Velkyn had no idea where those rooms might be, but that hardly mattered. The Reaver would ensure that Xylthe did not run. That was the important part.

 

[Xylthe]

As the Reaver stopped towards her Xylthe took two back. Her expressions until that point had been in control even as terror crawled beneath the surface. Now, that terror was plain.

"I-if it please you Sir, I will... I will sleep in the library," it wasn't the first time. There had been nights the scholars had worked all the way through and she had managed to catch a few hours on a cot set up in the corner for such a thing.

"I shared a dorm... with the other serfs," who were now all dead, half of them most likely in their beds, the sentence finished itself. "Please."

 

[Velkyn]

Uriel continued to move, ignoring every word that fell from Xylthe's lips until finally Velkyn waved a hand.

The Drow had learned long ago that a kind hand was just as effective as a punishing one. It was important to reinforce the positive, as much as it was the force the negative. There had to be an understanding, a push and pull.

"Very well." He said, not even bothering to look at her.

Another wave was offered towards the Reaver. "Send one of the others to watch her."

Uriel was his second in command, and though he trusted the man he also would not waste him on babysitting. He had intended to lock Xylthe in place, but if she was to stay here then he would have someone watch her. Perhaps he would lock her into the vault, though he wasn't done in here himself.

"I'll remain here." Velkyn said as he pushed another page to the side.

 

[Xylthe]

Relief almost made her sag but she still managed a shaky curtsy before excusing herself from the room, making sure to leave both keys on the table for him. She was half aware the Reaver was dogging her footsteps but in that moment she didn't care. She wasn't going to see her friends throats ripped out in their beds.

She had enough of those memories.

The cot was close to the vaults at the back of the library, furthest from the door and the body there too. Instead of crawling straight into the sheets however, she knelt beside it on the cold stone and begun to whisper the quiet prayers in her native northern tongue. The ritual included prostrating herself three times to the acclaimed goddess, before she finally crawled into the blankets and shut her eyes.

 

[Velkyn]

The Reaver watched every second of Xylethe's prayer, never moving, never budging, but never interfering either. He seemed quite complacent in simply standing there.

Velkyn himself remained in the study.

The Drow Lord studied very scrap of paper, every little slip of documentation that he could get his hands on. These Golems, the trick of the odd creatures was a path to something he had never imagined. Xylthe's previous master had thought of them as a rebuke of slavery, but the truth of them was so much more.

With every page he read new truth came to light.

It was well into the day that Uriel returned to him, the Reaver putting a hand on his masters shoulder. Silent eyes sharing a word. Velkyn glared at the man, his lips thin.

"There is much to do." The Drow said, knowing it was well past 'dawn' in this place. "Fetch the slave."

His voice was stern. "I need her."

It was good she had been spared.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe hadn't thought she would sleep after the nightmare she had lived through but exhaustion and shock were good natural sleeping drugs it seemed. In Raath there was no sun to wake her, only the endless gloom of Below the Surface, and so she slept dead to the world until the Reaver who had slit her masters throat gently shook her awake.

He must have anticipated the scream for his hand was over her mouth as she inhaled to do so. But slowly, as sleep faded and the memories returned she managed to bring her frightened heart back under control and she slowly nodded at the looming Drow in a silent promise to not scream again.

He stepped back and then thrust a bowl out to her filled with something hot. She hesitated, staring at it as though it were full of poison and he seemed to catch her concern for he shovelled a mouthful into his own mouth then thrust it back towards her. Reluctantly she took it then watched as he crouched down beside the cot to watch her intently whilst she ate.

 

[Velkyn]

Mere yards away from the interaction between the Avendrow and Reaver stood Velkyn.

It seemed that he had spent the entire night within the library, pouring over every paper, every little scrap that he could get his hands on.

Raath was a different animal entirely from the cities of the Underdark. This place worked as the surface did, or at least in part. It was an infuriating notion. Every paper he had read, every little bit of information he had absorbed brought naught but rage to the surface.

This place had changed much in the eons. Deteriorated for the worse.

The city had gone from a Jewel within the Empire to a kowtowing slave state serving the interests of others. It was a truth that Velkyn could hardly stomach. One that he would not allow to stand for long. The shuffle of papers echoed out as Xylthe collected herself, followed quickly by the sound of cracking wood.

Velkyn smashed his hands into the table, his fists denting the wood as he let out a bark of utter rage. "AREK'TEL THUL!"

He shouted in anger, practically breaking the table in two.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe didn't take her eyes off the Reaver as she timidly ate and neither did the Reaver. This type of behaviour wasn't new to her. She'd had Masters who had taken her to bed because of the odd fetish of her skin. Had had some Mistresses dress her up to be like a living ornament because of her markings. What was different this time was the sense she got he would quite enjoy peeling that skin off her body and pinning it on a wall. She ate the porridge as quickly and as quietly as she could.

The shout made them both jump. Well, she jumped and the Reaver stood and spun, knife at the ready, with the fluid grace of a warrior. He cocked his head to the side then without warning roughly grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to her feet, all but hurling her along with him. She supposed the shouting meant she was being summoned.

The Reaver let go of her abruptly when they got to where Velkyn was standing and her eyes surveyed the chaotic state of the desk and floor. She tried not to wince at the work it would take to set it to order and instead dropped to her knees, her forehead touching the flagstones once more.

"How may I best serve you this morrow, Master?"

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn stared down at the shattered table.

It was an infuriating truth that he had learned. He'd known what this city was like, at least he'd thought he'd known, yet the truth he now knew was so much worse than he had ever expected. Lips thinned for a brief moment, glancing at the mess in front of him. "The Raath'Shall."

That was what the Council house of Raath was named. Originally dubbed so by the Drow Clan who had made their home here long ago, a House which was not extinct. It had been a sacred place, before the taint of others came to it.

"Your master took you there?" From what he had read, the previous owner of his manor had been more than Liberal with his servants.

He had practically treated them as people.

It was a wonder that Xylthe still knew her place at all.

 

[Xylthe]

Silence answered Velkyn.

Xylthe's mind whirled with how best to answer him and her heart hammered louder in her ears every second she didn't. The truth was that her old Master had taken her to the Council more than once. Not only that but he had encouraged her to speak there, had made her feel... feel like a person again and not a serf. It was a feeling she had never thought to feel again but there... there she had. He had called the people there the Enlightened and they had seemed it to her in their discussions of rights, freedoms and duties to a whole range of people.

"Yes," she reluctantly admitted in a quiet voice. Because everything she had loved in that place, everything she had enjoyed, this man would revile. "P-please forgive my transgression, Sir."

 

[Velkyn]

"Bah." Velkyn spat. "At least you're of our world."

A drow, if a tainted one.

She was a slave, but slaves had been allowed in the Raath'Shall before. There was reasons for it of course, used as scribes, secretaries, a dozen other tasks. Someone had to take care of the menialities of it all. Velkyn did not mind her presence there.

What he minded were those who were there now.

Those who had taken such a place and were quietly bringing it to ruin. Their purpose little more than to strip this city of it's heritage. The affront was one he could barely stand. "You will accompany me there today."

He told her simply.

"Inform me of those we see." A week ago his plan had been to spy, pay urchins, send the Reavers cloaked in their shadows. This would be faster. "Their purpose, agendas, and partnerships."

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe wished the ground would open up under her and swallow her whole.

"But..." She said quietly under her breath, so quiet he might not have even heard it. Her fingernails curled into the palms of her hands. What they had built in that Council House was so... precious. So wonderful. And now she was going to help someone tear it down after fifty years of helping to build it. Xylthe swallowed.

"A-As you wish," even saying such a thing made her stomach churn over in disgust. Faces of the different races, the different people she had met there, floated across her thoughts. Then in the next blink they all had slit throats. She hadn't been told to rise so she kept her forehead against the floor. "Do you wish to go now, Sir? If so I would request a moment to change, Sir..." she had fallen asleep in her dress last night but aside from being rumpled the hem was also coated in dried blood. Not suited to a council building.

 

[Velkyn]

The hesitation was more than obvious, but Velkyn decided to ignore it for the time being. So far Xylthe had proven herself valuable, and now was not the type to apply a harsher hand. He frowned for a moment, then raised his hand.

"Go and change." He knew very well that there would be questions, the more he could stave off the better it would be.

The rumpled and blood covered slave was not something he would want to address. At least not yet.

It would take time to completely take Raath for himself, to bring it back into the fold. Pushing too much too fast would simply lead to his own defeat. Velkyn knew that, understood it, despite how much he despised it. He was patient though. Time was something he had plenty of. "See me at the front gate in twenty minutes."

The Drow Lord said as he turned away from the broken table and scattered papers.

"There is much to do." Velkyn said, leaving the threat of her delay unspoken.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe didn't need to be told twice.

Quickly she rose to her feet then flourished a low curtsey as was appropriate before turning and leaving as quickly as she could. The corridors had been cleaned of bodies even if the pools of blood still remained as a grisly reminder to the previous night. Whoever this man had brought with him to help his take over had been doing quick work considering just how many bodies there must have been to clear. It hit her all over again she was the only person alive in a few hundred strong home, working, manor.

Her rooms, as she predicted, hadn't escaped the chaos. It looked here that there had been more of a struggle. The other narrow beds she had shared with some of the maids had gaping holes in them, bedding and feathers littered the floor. Blood dripped from the ceiling.

Xylthe swallowed her nausea and made her way to her own small section of the room mercifully clean and begun to strip off.

In fifteen minutes after she had left Velkyn she was stood by the gates waiting. She wore a fresh dove grey dress with white hemming the bottom and neckline. She'd also brushed her hair and tied it half back to it kept it off her face. In short there was no sign she had suffered any tragedy only a few hours ago.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn stepped out into the Courtyard with two of the Reavers flanking him. The odd black armor they wore clung to their flesh, though as they stepped into the light of Raath there seemed to be an odd sheen that ran over the black plates.

The Drow Lord was leaning towards them, offering small whispers. As they approached Xylthe she would overhear the last of his words. "Fetch some servants, ensure the manor is cleaned."

He said, before adding. "Ensure they are well paid or disposed of at the end."

There was no doubt that either would suffice. If word of what had happened leaked out the consequences could likely ruin him before he even began all of this. Velkyn had to make sure that things worked out perfectly.

As he approached Xylthe the two Reavers broke off. The capital building was no place for them.

Velkyn did not break his stride as he approached the Avendrow. He only snapped his fingers.

"Come." He demanded as he headed out of the front gate.

 

[Xylthe]

Velkyn was a good head above her and had legs that should have outpaced her and probably could if he tried, but Xylthe had had years of practise keeping up with Masters who far out paced her. She did have to jog to catch up initially though before settling into a quick step slightly behind him, though still plainly within his peripheral view. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she had intentions of running away even if she was. She hadn't had long to come up with the plan and it might not even begin but there was a small bit of hope... it might. If she could just talk to someone alone in the Council...

Raath was a busy city but it was surprisingly compact. Most of the houses, like hers, were situated on the far edges and in a way functioned as their own small towns. It meant very few people lived in the centre and it was more of a place for trade and business than anything else. As always when she came here she begun to look up in curiosity at the wanders it beheld and her steps slowed a little.