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[Linn Scarlett]: 117.Misadventu
Rating: 0.00 Uploaded by: Created: 2005-06-13 11:54:11 Keywords: Drow Wizardry Fantasy NovelThe PrologueGenre:BiographicalStyle:novelLicense:Free for reading
The Prologue
Far below the green fields of Skandinvirr in the depths of the world lay a city. One of the many Dark Elven strongholds in the vast caverns of the Underdark. In this city, Gor-gornoth is its name, stood a tall and slender man on the balcony of his home. A large spiraling tower carved out of an enourmous stalagmite. It was covered with thousands of complicated designs carved into the once smooth surface of the tower. And every figurine, every line and inch of stone was precisely outlined with soft glowing dark red lighting.
The man sighed while he looked out over his home city. His black robes fluttered loosely around him. His crimson eyes stood in pale comparrison with his jet-black skin and snow white wavy hair. His features though fair, were chiseled and his nose slightly crooked.
A servant appeared out of the shadows, "Lord archmage". He made a proper obeisance; his left hand to his chest and his left leg slightly bend while making a small bow. "Yes?" the Drow archmage answered without turning around.
"The child is born, it's a boy", the servant replied formally. The archmage nodded and turned around, heading towards the door into the tower.
The inside of the tower was as lavishly decorated as the outside. Incredibly detailed fresco's of divine powers and important historical moments graced the black marble walls. Here and there stood statue's so perfectly crafted that it seemed they'd be able to walk away any moment they wished.
The archmage frowned, his wife would not be pleased with the male child. As a Highpriestess of Lloth, the Queen of Spiders, she wanted a daughter. A daughter that would grow up and become Matron-Mother after her. A daughter that would be a status symbol, another priestess of Lloth, in other words: power. He had to safe his son and heir.
In a dimly lit room a woman laid, still panting from the difficult delivery. A female servant approached her holding the child she had given birth to, "it's a male", the servant girl said softly.
Afraid the woman would take her rage out on her.
"What?!" the mother yelled in outrage. All of a sudden she seemed to be fully recovered, "a male?! How can my firstborn child be a male!" She raised her hands to the sky, "Why Lloth, why! Have I ever displeased you my Goddess?" A soft but cruel feminine chuckle was heard. A chuckled that inspired an almost deadly kind of fear into the mother's heart. Suddenly the chuckle abrupted in a loud, mad laughter. The Matron sat up right, her eyes large in astonishment. Her Goddess had left her. Slowly the laughter died away and as soon as it was gone she got up and put a dress on, "bring the child to the chapel at once", she ordered the servant girl. Maybe if she sacrificed the boy she could regain her Goddess'favor. Perhaps it was but a test of her loyalty to see if she was truely devoted.
She was. The child would die. That cursed archmage! Angered by what had happened the Matron stomped out of her room, heading towards the chapel.
Suddenly a strong hand closed around the back of her neck, "I will not let you murder my son, Elbreena".
The Matron tried to reach for her whip, the snakes stirred and hissed angerily mirroring their mistress' mood. She tried to say something but her mouth wouldn't form words. Swiftly a dagger was slipped between her fith and sixth rib, gently piercing her beating heart. She felt its cold blade glide into her flesh. Surprisingly it didn't really hurt at that much. The archmage let go of his wife and looked down on her as she slipped to the floor.
"Ilharn..." the dieying woman muttered.
"I'm sorry Elbreena, you have to speak a little louder", the archmage chuckled. Elbreena felt life slowly slip away from under her. She wanted to get up and use her whip on her patron until he'd succumb to the pain but...
Her thoughts slowly clouded. She couldn't form whole sentences anymore. Everything grew slowly dark.
The archmage loomed over the dieying woman and saw how the spark of life slowly left her crimson eyes. He smirked slightly and cleaned his dagger on a the sleeve of her dress. Then he turned around and strode off to the chapel in search of his son.