Gwindolyn Spiritor and AelKennyr Rhiano
Nimros watches the snakes slither and slide over each other, the sound of their skin rubbing against each other mingling with her voice. "Ruling," she said. "Power, position." He shifts his stance, rocking forward on one foot. "Perhaps I am not in her image," he concedes. "But if she would give me power, position, rulership. if I am worthy of those things, and I am not to rule down here, still I am not lowly and not so base as to be at your feet." He turns in a circle and speaks to the air around him. "Nor any other's here." He flings his arms open wide and looks up at the statue. "I do not deny her." His voice is loud, carrying, bouncing off the walls of the room. 'I welcome her. I accept her, gladly." He lowers his arms and whirls about to face the drowess." What I deny is .."He pauses, tilting his head in challenge. "You. I deny you. You have led me with your silky thighs, your sighs, your cries of passion as we lay together. But I am done with you leading me by my manhood. I will not kneel to you. Not now, not ever. Your Goddess is my Goddess." His green eyes are cold and flinty. "But you are not She."
Ilharess walks forward to him with a little grin on her face. "You are familiar with the idea of a representative of another? Are you not? Tell me, if your elven king sent someone to you to speak in his stead, would you deny the speaker at the cost of the reward he brings?" She doesn't let him respond. She curls away from him once more and throws her hands into the air as if calling upon the darkness there. She chitters, and the spiders come to her en mass. They climb over her and cover her, a writhing mass. Even her snake whip is covered in them. She turns, and the writhing figure she has become speaks once more. "Who do you think gives this power you lust from me? My Goddess." She pauses and tilts her head to the side. The spiders clear her face, and she speaks once more. "Better question: who do you think I am?"
Nimros watches, spellbound. Those spiders, moving, chittering, their legs tiny hard metallic sounds striking the stone floor, clacking against each other as they pour over her face, her body, her legs. His eyes watch their movement, his hands clenching and unclenching, his jaw working. Slowly, he tears his gaze away from the movement of the spiders. "Who are you?" he asks.
She settles back a little and lets the spiders disperse from her. "I am a High Priestess in the temple of Lloth. I am her representative in the underdark. I am also Ilharess of this house." Her hands wave around the room as if to encompass the whole complex for which he has admitted to being accutely aware of seeing only a small portion. "I am one of the ruling Ilharesses of this glorious city I call home. I am someone with a power and influence." She begins to walk back to him, careful not to step on anything moving along the way. "There is much you have ahead of you to learn, but first thing to learn is who I am. Wise of you to finally think that important."
Nimros watches the spiders spill over each other and disappear back into the shadows. As her hands waves about, he listens to her words, her tone. So, Ilharess was no name, as she led him to believe. His frown deepens, but he remains silent. "....someone with a power and influence," she says, and as she moves toward him, he watches her face, the shift of her eyes, the tilt of her head, the way her feet strike the ground.
Ilharess walks with confidence even as she steps gingerly around the spiders. This was how life was lived, taking care and giving reverence to the spiders. "This is Lloth's world under here. Even the other gods that eek out a following, do so at her allowance. And as this is her world, her chosen are the power down here. I am one of her chosen." She puts a hand to her waist, and the snakes unwrap from her waist and move to him, but as they do so their mouths are closed as if held shut by spider silk. The snakes seek to writhe against his arm. "They cannot bite without my permission. I hold them in my control." She leaves out the "as long as Lloth favors me," not granting him that knowledge. "Her ways are of chaos. That is not how the surfacers think. You have embraced the darkness. The lust for power burns in your eyes. Lloth's hands holds your heart. for as long as she chooses to."
Nimros watches her glide up to him, sauntering, hips swaying. Her hand at her waist draws his eyes down to watch the snakes, who no longer snap and hiss but instead uncoil and stretch out to touch his skin. Green eyes widen a little, watching them. He could not pull his gaze away at this moment. Slowly, he extends a hand, palm up, an invitation to the snake closest to him. Looking up, he studies her face. "I know of only one other god, " he says, "Eru Illuvatar. The father of us all. I never heard of Lloth before this night. Is she a Vala? An Ainu? She has power much like that. " He pauses, and suddenly questions spill from him. "What does Ilharess mean? And how were you chosen? Surfacers can be chaotic, too. I have seen them be so. But her chaos..." he pauses and says the name slower..."Lloth...her chaos must be more than petty plots and swords slid between ribs."
Ilharess watches as a snake settles into his hand. It is there for a moment before the snake curls back around her waist. She listens to the questions spill from him like water overflowing a cup. She says softly. "Shhhh. You have decades of learning to do rather quickly. So listen carefully to all you hear. Watch closely to what you see. And pay attention to how things are done here if you wish to live amongst the Drow. Lloth is the one true Goddess. She is the Spider Queen of Chaos." She turns once more to the half spider/half woman statue. "Lloth is the creator of the Drow. She brought us to life, guided us and keeps us as she wills. To fall from her favor is to find fates worse than death. You have no concept of cruel until you see her anger." She pauses and says, "Ilharess would translate to common as 'Matron.' The full title is 'Ilhar Ilharess' - Mother Matron. And this is house Baen'Und, MY house."
Nimros watches the snake as it rests, docile in his hand before it returns to her place about her waist. He listens as she offers answers to his questions. Spider queen..he thinks to himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek, a habit he had back in Alqualonde, more of the boy still inside him than the man he is becoming. He remembers stories of the great spider who helped the Dark Lord destoyed the Two Trees. Tales to scare children, tales of deeds from so long ago, one must wonder if things happened as the bards and singers tell it. His head tilts up to regard the statue. Is this the same being. A goddess? Looking down at the spiders, crawling about on the floor, up to the snakes about her waist, he feels each intake of breath, each heartbeat, and for the first time in Nimros' life, he could feel his destiny shaping before him.
> Next
Ilharess walks forward to him with a little grin on her face. "You are familiar with the idea of a representative of another? Are you not? Tell me, if your elven king sent someone to you to speak in his stead, would you deny the speaker at the cost of the reward he brings?" She doesn't let him respond. She curls away from him once more and throws her hands into the air as if calling upon the darkness there. She chitters, and the spiders come to her en mass. They climb over her and cover her, a writhing mass. Even her snake whip is covered in them. She turns, and the writhing figure she has become speaks once more. "Who do you think gives this power you lust from me? My Goddess." She pauses and tilts her head to the side. The spiders clear her face, and she speaks once more. "Better question: who do you think I am?"
Nimros watches, spellbound. Those spiders, moving, chittering, their legs tiny hard metallic sounds striking the stone floor, clacking against each other as they pour over her face, her body, her legs. His eyes watch their movement, his hands clenching and unclenching, his jaw working. Slowly, he tears his gaze away from the movement of the spiders. "Who are you?" he asks.She settles back a little and lets the spiders disperse from her. "I am a High Priestess in the temple of Lloth. I am her representative in the underdark. I am also Ilharess of this house." Her hands wave around the room as if to encompass the whole complex for which he has admitted to being accutely aware of seeing only a small portion. "I am one of the ruling Ilharesses of this glorious city I call home. I am someone with a power and influence." She begins to walk back to him, careful not to step on anything moving along the way. "There is much you have ahead of you to learn, but first thing to learn is who I am. Wise of you to finally think that important."
Nimros watches the spiders spill over each other and disappear back into the shadows. As her hands waves about, he listens to her words, her tone. So, Ilharess was no name, as she led him to believe. His frown deepens, but he remains silent. "....someone with a power and influence," she says, and as she moves toward him, he watches her face, the shift of her eyes, the tilt of her head, the way her feet strike the ground.
Ilharess walks with confidence even as she steps gingerly around the spiders. This was how life was lived, taking care and giving reverence to the spiders. "This is Lloth's world under here. Even the other gods that eek out a following, do so at her allowance. And as this is her world, her chosen are the power down here. I am one of her chosen." She puts a hand to her waist, and the snakes unwrap from her waist and move to him, but as they do so their mouths are closed as if held shut by spider silk. The snakes seek to writhe against his arm. "They cannot bite without my permission. I hold them in my control." She leaves out the "as long as Lloth favors me," not granting him that knowledge. "Her ways are of chaos. That is not how the surfacers think. You have embraced the darkness. The lust for power burns in your eyes. Lloth's hands holds your heart. for as long as she chooses to."
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| The Altar to Lloth |
Nimros watches her glide up to him, sauntering, hips swaying. Her hand at her waist draws his eyes down to watch the snakes, who no longer snap and hiss but instead uncoil and stretch out to touch his skin. Green eyes widen a little, watching them. He could not pull his gaze away at this moment. Slowly, he extends a hand, palm up, an invitation to the snake closest to him. Looking up, he studies her face. "I know of only one other god, " he says, "Eru Illuvatar. The father of us all. I never heard of Lloth before this night. Is she a Vala? An Ainu? She has power much like that. " He pauses, and suddenly questions spill from him. "What does Ilharess mean? And how were you chosen? Surfacers can be chaotic, too. I have seen them be so. But her chaos..." he pauses and says the name slower..."Lloth...her chaos must be more than petty plots and swords slid between ribs."
Ilharess watches as a snake settles into his hand. It is there for a moment before the snake curls back around her waist. She listens to the questions spill from him like water overflowing a cup. She says softly. "Shhhh. You have decades of learning to do rather quickly. So listen carefully to all you hear. Watch closely to what you see. And pay attention to how things are done here if you wish to live amongst the Drow. Lloth is the one true Goddess. She is the Spider Queen of Chaos." She turns once more to the half spider/half woman statue. "Lloth is the creator of the Drow. She brought us to life, guided us and keeps us as she wills. To fall from her favor is to find fates worse than death. You have no concept of cruel until you see her anger." She pauses and says, "Ilharess would translate to common as 'Matron.' The full title is 'Ilhar Ilharess' - Mother Matron. And this is house Baen'Und, MY house."
Nimros watches the snake as it rests, docile in his hand before it returns to her place about her waist. He listens as she offers answers to his questions. Spider queen..he thinks to himself, chewing on the inside of his cheek, a habit he had back in Alqualonde, more of the boy still inside him than the man he is becoming. He remembers stories of the great spider who helped the Dark Lord destoyed the Two Trees. Tales to scare children, tales of deeds from so long ago, one must wonder if things happened as the bards and singers tell it. His head tilts up to regard the statue. Is this the same being. A goddess? Looking down at the spiders, crawling about on the floor, up to the snakes about her waist, he feels each intake of breath, each heartbeat, and for the first time in Nimros' life, he could feel his destiny shaping before him.
> Next