Private Tales The Old Ways

[Velkyn]

"I am sure that he was." Velkyn said with a smile.

A trip into the Underdark was by no means a sure thing. Though he had his Reavers and the blessings of the Old Gods it was still dangerous even for him. He frowned for a brief moment as the man slipped away from him, head shaking.

Detestable little things. He thought to himself bitterly.

He watched the party for a moment, and then heard the final announcement.

The names put a smile on his lips, drawing to that same false wolfishness that had been there before. With an easy step he moved towards his new arrivals. "My Lady, I am so pleased that you could make it."

His eyes flickered towards Icarus.

"And you as well, of course." Of course. Perhaps so much he'd ensure the man never left.

 

[Xylthe]

Lord Icarus' face resembled thunder.

"I wasn't sure I would but my assistant managed to move things around with your little maids help," Lady Lúthien smiled and glanced around the room. As she did the light caught the many fire diamonds found deep within the Underwhelm and sparkled in their odd, darkly beautiful manner. "Llywen was never one for such festivities, he always preferred his books. It is so nice to see this room come to its full glory."

Xylthe appeared at her Masters side within the blink of an eye, quietly curtseying before murmuring low.

"We are ready to begin the dinner service My Lord."

 

[Velkyn]

"Yes." Velkyn said agreement, as though he actually knew anything at all about the man whom he'd had put in his grave. "He did always enjoy the company of books to people."

It was a mild enough fact, a truth which could apply to dozens of other people.

For a few moments Velkyn didn't move or say anything as Xylthe curtsied besides them. It was almost as though he were considering something, then after a moment more he smiled and gestured to the two in front of him.

"Please do take your seats." He said with a smile.

"I've ensured my staff has made only the best." That was of course entirely untrue. Even under the watchful eyes of his most beloved gods he could not have said what was being served tonight. He simply hadn't cared.

Though now, with the party started, he wished he had it all poisoned.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe watched as the others began to make their way through to the dining area. The gilded doors were held open by two other footmen who studiously kept their eyes front and centre and not on any of the guests who filed past them.

The dining room was Xylthe's real triumph. What had been a tired room only the day before was now vibrant. The crystal chandelier polished and adorned with candles that threw rainbow lights across the room. The sight drew gasps and murmured appreciative comments from those gathered, even the begrudging Icarus who wondered aloud at how Llywen had managed to keep it a secret for so long. The table itself was outfitted as though for royalty with flowers, polished silver, and crystal goblets.

Servers helped seat everyone and begun to offer them choices of wine.

"I took the liberty of sitting the High Lady to your right, my lord," Xylthe murmured to him before he entered himself. "And Lady Yithrel on your other side. I believe she is your biggest chance at an ally."

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn stood in the doorway as everyone arranged themselves to where they should be. Xylthe sweeping into position beside him a moment more.

Her murmurs gently trickeld into his ear, head tilting in a nod.

She was not wrong in her estimations. He had come to the same conclusion when he had first met the other members of the council. Though a wrathful takeover of this city was still on the table, he knew it would be much easier with allies.

Icarus was out entirely, as were the humans, but Yithrel and the High Lady were prime targets for a tug to his side. He but needed to sow the correct seeds with both of them.

Most importantly, remind the lady Yithrel of her proper station in a place like this. "You have done well."

He remarked to his servant.

"Continue, and a few books will be the least of your reward." He remarked, stepping away from the Avendrow and towards the table.

 

[Xylthe]

Maybe he would give her tomorrow off. That would be nice.

When hell froze over.

Xylthe laughed under her breath at her own joke before making her way back to the kitchen to ensure everything ran smoothly from her end.

Once everyone was seated the serves began to file into the room and offer a selection of different entrees for the guests to have as their first course. Fruits, soup, cured meats, vegetables and delicate little tarts. People murmured over the spread with delight and heaped their plates full. A general murmured buzz settled over the group as they ate and talked to their neighbours.

"So Lord Velkyn, are you often a big entertainer?" Lady Yithrel asked. "My husband here regularly goes hunting and makes a little occasion out of it. I believe Lord Icarus goes, but you would be most welcome to join them and the other menfolk."

 

[Velkyn]

"Entertainer?" He mused on the word.

"No, no I don't think so, My Lady." Velkyn mused openly. "In Levesari there is often little time for entertaining."

Such practices were of course taken part in the Old Empire. The Forgotten city had been rife with parties, Gala's, and all sorts of things held by the Priests and nobles. His own home had been harder through, a bulwark. Fortress against the underrealm.

No time for pretty pageantry. "But I do hope my offering is enough for the night at least."

A smile flickered over his features.

"I do enjoy a good Hunt." He mused. "What sort of beast is chased here in Raath? I'm not sure my cousin ever mentioned."

 

[Xylthe]

"Oh your cousin hated the Hunt!" Lord Yithrel said then shovelled some more food into his mouth making noises of great compliment. His wife gave him a look of both irritation and slight disgust before glancing back to Velkyn with her composed mask back in place.

"Yes, he did. He thought it rather uncivilised but it was something my husband enjoyed doing back Home," the emphasis on the word home made it clear where exactly she meant.

"Most of the Drow do still enjoy it," the High Lady chimed in with a nod that sent her dark sapphires tinkling softly against one another. "We have quite a bit of game but my personal favourite are the badger moles - very smart and quick. They give a good fight."

 

[Velkyn]

Finally. A tradition that was still respected. "I would hope that they do."

Velkyn mused quite happily.

The hunts were an ancient tradition, and an utterly deadly one. In the Underrealm one did not hunt for sport or entertainment, but to prove ones worth. The prey down within the tunnels was most often more deadly than the hunters.

Entire families had made their names hunting Gresh, Alceths, and Sinew Wyrms. Whole clans finding their fortunes and fame within the hunts. And of course, there was also the benefit of a few convenient deaths playing out quite easily during a hunt.

"Marvelous." Velkyn continued on. "I will have to join you on one of these ventures soon."

He remarked. "I do miss some of the trappings of home."

Velkyn said with perhaps the first genuine smile he'd worn since entering this city.

 

[Xylthe]

The conversation continued for quite a while on the different hunting seasons and meets, with Lord Yithrel becoming more enthused by the idea of the other man joining their little war band. Food and wine continued to flow onto the main course and then into dessert. The mood across the table was one of surprised enjoyment, as though none of them had ever thought to find themselves feeling this way but all glad that they did.

The only sour face was Icarus who poked his food and glared at the end of the table where Velkyn sat.

As the port arrived the talk turned to more... serious matters.

"Do you really think those in the underdark will want to trade or perhaps even migrate to our city?" Lady Lúthien asked as she swirled her glass.

 

[Velkyn]

It was a good question, and one that Velkyn absolutely had an answer for.

No one at this table wanted to hear it of course. Not Lady Luthien, not any of the others. The truth was that any delegation from Raath would be seen as less than the dregs. Most of them would be captured, turned to slaves, but such was an inevitability.

The fate Velkyn looked eagerly towards. "Of course."

He lied.

"The Old ways remain strong in many bulwarks of the Underdark, My Lady." The Drow explained. "But."

Slowly he took a sip of his wine. "More doors are opening every day, and the once great cities of our people are...dwindling."

A truth most of his people were loathe to admit. "Trade is just what is needed to invigorate them, and I believe the right word can..."

He seemed to pause, as if considering, then continued.

"Sway the right ears." It was a lie of course. His plans were much different, but the truth wasn't needed here. Not at his table.

 

[Xylthe]

"And who, exactly, are the right ears?"

Icarus had left his seat further down the table to wander up to the group gathered at the head. Others had grouped off too in smaller huddles, some still sat at the table and others moving to more comfortable seats by the fire place. One group had even set up a game of cards seemingly oblivious to the subtle politics being played around them.

Xylthe moved among them all gently enquiring if they needed anything further and ensuring serving men kept brandies topped up.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn only smiled as Icarus interjected.

He shot a quick look towards lady Yithrel. A part of him had already decided that she would be his ally. She might not have been a believer in the old ways, but at her core, within her eyes he could see the ambition rooted deep.

She would be a help. Of that he was certain. "Ah, My Lord. Would that you had been born in the Underrealm."

The dig slipped from his tongue as easily as a blade slipped through ribs.

"You would not need to ask such questions." A small chuckle escaped Lady Yithrel, though Velkyn half suspected it was an air put up to please only him. "The Politics of our people are triply as complex as they are here in Raath, and far more cloaked in blood."

He said with a smile. "The Governor of Il'turred will need a word simply to let foreigners past his gates. The High Priest of Lleth will want tribute for the simple privilege, and the Lectors of Al'tur'el will want praise for their blessing of it all."

Velkyn shook his head.

"The world within the dark is complicated, my friend." He said it as though he were speaking to a child.

 

[Xylthe]

Icarus looked redder than Xylthe and steam practically poured out of his ears. Lord Yithrel, who had until this moment been a rather placid member of the conversation relying on jokes and base humour, stood and placed himself rather protectively in between Icarus and his wife.

It seemed all his anger however was to be directed at Velkyn whom he grabbed by the shirt and yanked to his feet with a snarl, faces barely an inch apart.

"I was born in the underdark which is why I don't buy your little pretty lie," he spat. "There's no way you're here to help us. You mean to destroy it."

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn kept his face an utterly perfect mask as the other man grasped his collar and yanked him up from his chair.

He seemed entirely unimpressed.

In the back of his mind he made a note to have the man killed, perhaps worse. The offered insult a mark of just how far the man had stepped in the wrong direction. Despite that though Velkyn kept his expression neutral, calm. "Born, yes. My Lord Icarus."

There was a deathly stillness tone.

"But not raised, yes?" He mused quietly. "You are what, two, three hundred years old?"

Velkyn asked, knowing he was right. "Much has changed in that time, and the majority you are not aware of. Our people toil away. Our ancestry is lost. Some cities are desperate for support."

It was not exactly a lie.

The Eternal City had been cut off from much of the Underrealm. His own home, and many near it, had not seen the touch of their heartland for many centuries. Things were shifting, changing. That was why Velkyn had taken command.

To bring his people back to the fold. To their greatness. To reunite with the Eternal City of their Empire.

"Desperation merits change." He said simply. "But perhaps you are too...young, to see that."

Velkyn said, staring down at the man even as he held the collar of his clothes.

 

[Xylthe]

The noise seemed to be sucked from the room as Icarus exploded and attacked their dinner host. Some watched with calculated eyes and odd little smirks, others sat with jaws almost hitting the floor. Nobody made a move to help, of course. It was far too good an entertainment. At least until Velkyn had had his chance to rebuke. Then men from around the room made a show of beginning to get up and stride over.

The servants were there first however.

"Sir, I think it might be best if you come with us," they murmured as they began to gently prize the man free of their new boss. For them, protecting the man giving them their wages was far more important than everyone else's entertainment.

"Yes, I think it best you do leave!" the High Lady repeated and stood from her chair. Her comment was what broke Icarus from his continued snarling and he looked to her as if she had physically slapped him across the face. Only then did he realise all eyes were on him.

"Get your hands off me!" he muttered, yanking himself free of the two footmen who backed off but not too far in case they had to intervene again. "When you see his lies for what they are don't say I didn't warn any of you," he spat and then turned, striding for the door.

 

[Velkyn]

The very moment Icarus surged forward Velkyn nearly obliterated him.

It would have been easy. A snap of the finger, a bitten off prayer to the gods of Old. He would have reduce the simpering little whelp to dust. It would have been easy, but the wrong thing to do.

Not morally, but politically.

Those within this room would catch a glimpse of his power. See his ruthlessness, perhaps even Garner a touch of understanding to what he truly was. A result Velkyn could simply not abide, not at this moment.

So he let the young Drow throw his fist. Let him strike his ribs, coil against his chest. Shadows flickered in the corners of the room, moving, but Velkyn waves them away. A few bruises, perhaps a snapped bone, but the pain was only slight in comparison to his gain.

As the Servants dragged Icarus off and away Velkyn stood half hunched over. Tension seemed to hang within the air, bound tight enough to be cut with a knife. After a flickering beat of the heart the Drown Lord pulled himself up. "The passions of youth."

He declared with a chuckle.

"I was never much able to see beyond my own opinions as a child." Velkyn spoke loudly enough that the retreating Icarus would still hear him. "But let's not let the arrogance of one ruin our evening, yes?"

Velkyn said with a smile. "There's still a meal to be had."

And plenty of conversation.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe, quite frankly, thought she was going to be sick after that display. It could have all come crashing down there and then. Icarus might have lost touch with the underdark but that did not mean he was a soft upper lord. Any brawl between them would have been bloody and might well have taken a few other lives with them. Even that it had not come to blows did not make Xylthe feel any less ill. Would he blame her for the whole thing? She had not known what to do other than point the footmen towards helping him.

"Here, sit down dear," the cook gently guided her to a chair. "You're as white as a sunwalker," he tutted and put some tea into her hands. "It'll help the nerves, not owt you can do about it now. That's right pet," he coaxed her into drinking and gave her head a pat.

In the main hall others were taking their chance to utter their disgust at Icarus and praise Velkyn for the way he had handled the whole affair.

 

[Velkyn]

After the outburst of Lord Icarus opinions had been swayed.

Though it was hardly a wealth of love an admiration, it was clear that those that remained within the Great Hall respected their newly found peer. The meal went on for the whole night, conversations, deals and bargains being struck at every turn.

Hours passed, and by the end of it most of their guests left with a smile upon their face.

"Please, do consider coming on the next hunt, and bring that Aven of yours! They're good luck you know!"​

Lord Yithrel said, grabbing Velkyn by the wrist with a wide beaming smile. A touch of color reached his cheeks, marking just how much wine he had consumed. "Of course, of course. I look forward to it. Perhaps before the trip?"

He asked with a smile.

"Yes! Absolutely! We'll arrange it post-haste!"​

The Drow said with a wide beaming smile, his wife looking at Velkyn with a strange intensity. Her eyes caught his, the crook of her lips turning up in a smile.

Shortly after the others departed, and the Great Hall was once again left filled with only the servants of the House.

 

[Xylthe]

Under Xylthe's careful eye the servants were already beginning to clean away the last bits of the gala and mop buckets were being brought up to give the floor a good scrub after so many people had been walking over it. The Aevendrow was barely managing to stand upright. There was a slight sway to her and she pressed her clasped hands back against the rough brick of the wall to steady herself. Despite the tiredness there was an odd sort of pride to her faint smile as she watched the others work. In her mind everything had gone far better than she could have expected.

As servants passed her to head to their beds, finished with their work for the evening she murmured well dones and gave small pats on the shoulder. It seemed for the most part they had all enjoyed it too in a weird sort of way. Work was work for folk who had a day before been homeless and penniless.

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn swept into place besides Xylthe as though conjured from thin air.

The Drow Lord had a way of moving that made it almost impossible to hear him. His expression carried nothing less than pure smugness. It was obvious that he was pleased with how things had gone tonight. Everything having fallen into just the right place.

"You did well, Xylthe." He stated plainly.

Once again, it was the carrot and the stick.

That old double edged sword. Had she failed him Xylthe might as well have been a corpse on the outskirts of town, but she had not. The servants she'd recruited had performed well, and the dinner had quite the surprising result at the end of the day. "Perhaps too well."

He chuckled. "Lord Yithrel has invited you to his hunt."

In a roundabout way, but still an invite.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe nearly fell over her own feet as she scrambled to get away from the figure suddenly beside her. She had thought it was one of the Reavers but when she noticed it was her Master she managed to calm her senses, though she still took a subtle step away from him and massaged her chest. Her heart felt as though it were beating its way out of her chest.

"Thank you, Master," she croaked and inclined her head then cleared her throat some. She'd been barking orders all night and her voice felt sore from it all. Ordering a household had not been something she had ever done before, nor had she wanted to. The higher you climbed the further there was to fall.

"I-" the young aevendrow blinked at the next bit of news, clearly caught off guard. "I-I do not have any experience in preparing someone for a hunt, my Lord. I could f-find someone much better suited."

 

[Velkyn]

Velkyn chuckled. "I don't expect you to be a hur'mes're."

The Drow Lord said with a shake of his head, dropping the honorific of hunt master without much of a thought a tall.

"This is a world we must navigate together." The words were slow, practiced. An olive branched offered to a servant who was worth less than the trusted touch of an advisor. "Yithrel bade your luck, so you will attend."

There was no question to the words. "Your position will mean much more than anything else you have to offer, Xylthe."

He told her simply. "The simple mark of your skin is enough to illicit desire."

More than that he did not need.

 

[Xylthe]

Xylthe stared at him as though he had just asked her to crawl into a box of vipers so he could close the lid. In fact, she would rather be asked that. Silence drew out between the two as her mind frantically worked for a reason she could not go, how it might be some dishonour on him and the others attending, but she came up with nothing. Swallowing she finally lowered her eyes, resigned.

"If that is what you command."

Not for the first time she wished she could peel her skin off and wash it with bleach.

 

[Velkyn]

A wry chuckle escaped his throat. "Oh I do."

Velkyn had long ago made his own decision.

He would do whatever was necessary, would take whatever step. No matter the danger, no matter the pawns that he had to throw away. He'd slaughtered his own parents, slit the throat of his closest friend. All in pursuit of more power, more freedom.

To set things right.

He would continue on that path. Walk upon it until the told days were returned and the Gods once again held the hearts of his people.

"See this is all cleaned up, then get some rest." Velkyn said, beginning to walk away. "There is much to be done still."