Home Once Again

[Anonymous]

( OCC:  this is just a thread to chronicle Kerath's journey to bring back drow warriors to the dread army.  PLEASE DO NOT POST ON THIS THREAD!  this is more of a backstory than a roleplay.  thank you. )


Kerath broke into a jog after walking out of the door of the Dread Army headquarters.  He pulled low the cowl of his hood to help hide the truth of his race.  Kerath was not fearful of persecution, but fighting unneccessary battles would take up valuble time that he did not have.  It was early afternoon when he reached the cave, remnants of Venorik's fire, untouched except by the wind, lay cold in the middle of the chamber.  Kerath took one last glance out at the bright, sunny world of the surface before stepping around the corner of the natural-hewn passageway; Back to the perpetual darkness of the Underdark, to the tretcherousrealm of Drow and Ithillids, where only the very skilled and paranoid thrived... Back to Kerath's home, where he reigned king.

The way was a tangle of winding passageways and dead-ends, but the drow never faltered in his course.  Even half a millenium of torture and exile could not destroy the knowledge drilled into him by decades of reading maps and leading patrols.  It hadbeen two days since he entered the cave and, so far, his trip had been relatively uneventful. ( As far as treks through the Underdark could be.)  Kerath had fought a small band of goblins hoping to ambush him and take his weapons, seeing the signs of their presence far before the "trap" was sprung.  Kerath thought through the hours, comparing them to his location.  "Nearly halfway there," he remarked silently to himself, not daring to speak aloud and alert his presence to any enemies.  There were those monsters in the Underdark against which even he could not triumph.

Suddenly Kerath heard something.  Barely audible, the slight shuffle of the foot of a novice drow scout ahd echoed into the warrior's keen ears.  "The patrols are farther out from the city than they should be," he thought.  "The queen must feel threatened by something."  Kerath, seeing a small ledge some five or six feet above him along the wall, jumped up silently and stalked closer to where he had heard the shuffling.  Then he saw them: eight drow fighters and a wizard.  The one Kerath had heardwas immediately obvious.  No more than thirty, the young drow was large, over six feet, and clumsy for a patrolman.  "Probably his first time out," Kerath guessed.  He was about to slip behind the group and continue on his way when he saw the patrol leader.  The leader's left ear wsa half gone and a scar ran from it to his jaw.  What luck!  The leader of the first patrol group he met was none other than Bor'raizok, one of his former liutenants.  Although Bor'raizok had been only seventy or so when Kerath had been sacrificed, he had been one of his most skilled assasins and loyal followers.  "Vedui' ussta barra.  P'los dos inbal uns'aa takrome, lor veir."  Kerath shot his arms out above him, swords sliding into his hands.  "Usstan inbal yut'su."

[Anonymous]

Bor'raizok's hand was already halfway up to signal the patrol to shoot the drow when a voice from the past hit him like a hammer.  He nearly fell over at the sight of Kerath.  The greatest warrior Drash N'cothera had ever known had returned from the dead... after over 500 years after being sacrificed by a priestess in the high favor of Lolth!  "Mir dosst chath!  ugul dosst sarolen!" he yelled to the trigger-happy patrolmen around him.  The now warmaster of Drash N'cothera dropped into a low bow after regaining his composure.  "Ussta senger."  He rose up to look at his former leader.  "Lu'oh xunus dos ssuth?"

________________________

Kerath, pleased at the way his old luitenant was still loyal to him, answered quickly.  "Usstan morfel natha deal.  Lolth shlu'ta'naut ehmtu ussta dro lu' il zhaun ol.  Il fris uns'aa ulu nindol zik'den'vever ulu xun ilta tonaik xund."  He smiled. " Ol z'klaen jiv'undus l' elg'caress nindel il ssrig'luinen uns'aa ji."

"Can your patrol be trusted?"  Kerath asked subtly in the drow hand-code.  Upon seeing the doubtful look on his comrade's face, he nodded slightly.  Quickly and efficiently they killed the not-so-trusted drow so they would not be over heard.  Kerath spoke of the Dread Army and of his wish to reistablish his network, branching out to the surface.  He also asked about his family, and if there were any of his sisters alive for him to seek revenge upon.  Upon hearing that much of his network was still operational, if unused, and that his youngest sister now reigned as queen and was quite well, Kerath walked with Bor'raizok toward the city, discussing his plan.

[Anonymous]

There were many ways to get into even the most guarded cities without being noticed, if one knew where to look.  Kerath and Bor'raizok, easily the two greatest fighters of Drash N'cothera, veteran assasins spending centuries lurking through the secret ways, knew where to look.  "Are the secret tunnels still open to us?" Kerath asked Bor'raizok as they neared to seven miles out from the city.  "All but one.  The stairwell leading to the abandoned stalagmite entrance caved in twelve years ago."  The two drow slowed to a walk.  Then Kerath decided.  "The passage leading to the rothe pen is just around the next left."  He knew that his old base of operations would never be found by those not trusted by him.  It had been hidden far to well.  "We can then skirt the south wall and reach my old base without trouble."  Kerath paused.  "Has it been used since my... absence?"  "Not by many.  Daerkarce and I took up the task of keeping up your network for a few years, but he was killed mysteriously near the academy shortly after you were sacrificed.  We stopped using the base and openly meeting for fear of your sisters' wrath.  In the past 200 years however, Your former luitenents ahve loosely organized the network.  It should not be difficult to reistablish it now that you are back."

The rothe tunnel, as it was called by the few who knew its existence, was cramped and damp, running under the lake in the midst of the city.  It was well worth it when they emerged however.  Drash N'cothera was built within a collosal cavern with hundreds of stalagmites and stalagmites, some dozen fissures, and a subterrainian lake.  Unlike most drow cities, it did not have many warring houses, competing for dominence.  Drash N'cothera was ruled by a royal family, descended from the priestess of Lolth who founded the city, and presided over by the matron mother of that family.  All drow not part of the royal family were quickly segregated into priestesses, fighters, and wizards, with occasional weapon and armorsmiths and other essential professions.  There were no family rivalries and so, all agression was turned outwards, at non-drow slime.  

Kerath looked over the city he once had called home and his eyes came to rest on the imposing structure of the queen's palace.  Unlike the other buildings within the city, the palace was not made from the stone of the cavern, and was completely free-standing.  It was made from mithral and steel and marble, wrought together through years and years of labor and magic.  So obvious a representation of the queen's absolute power, no fool would ever think about attempting to come uninvited through it's gates.  Kerath had forgotten how great station and power had been here.  Had forgotten how much he missed looking over this city and knowing it was his.

[Anonymous]

"The patrols are out farther than they should be." Kerath said to Bor'raizok in the drow hadn code as they walked along the wall of the less populous area of the city.  "What trouble has my sister gotten my city into?"  

"Choznarthaerin has been becoming more agressive in the past two decades.  Twenty-eight years ago, your sister put all our forces into one large surface raid... a disasterous surface raid.  Half our soldiers were lost.  Now the patrols have to cover twice the distance to give proper warning of an attack by the forces of the grey dwarves.  Drash N'cothera cannot stand up against an all out assault as it once could."

Kerath nodded.  His sister, Letellia, was a powerful priestess but not nearly the queen their mother had been.

 Bor'raizok continued to fill Kerath in on what had happened in his absence as they neared the hidden cavern at the bottom of a deep chasm Kerath had once used to meet and give orders to his agents.  Once inside, they made a list of those Kerath would need.  There were eight of his original agents still alive, who he would take with Bor'raizok to the surface with him.  There were many more, though, who had filled vacancies or were ideal candidates for agents.  Through the course of the next three days, Kerath had reached all of them by some way and all of them now stood in his hidden base of operations.  There were thirty-four of them in all, less than what the organization had been in it's prime, but that was to be expected.  They were made up exclusively of males, mosty fighters, but with two wizards, an armoresmith, and a weaponsmith as well.  The eight Kerath would take with him back to the Dread Army were mae up of the weaponsmith, a wizard, five fighters, and a priestess.  The priestess, the only woman in the cavern had not been appealed by the life of sitting praying in the cahpel of Lolth while ordering others.  The underworld of the city was much more to her liking.

During this meeting, Kerath informed everyone of what had transpired to bring him back to the city and lead his band again.  Once caught up to speed, the agents were given assignments and sent back to the city.  They were to report to Kerath through scrying crystals and extraplanar doors curtesie of the wizards.

Everything was going as planned, Kerath thought as the last of the agents to remain in the city left his hideout and those going with him were preparing for departure.  There was only one thing he had left to do here.  Kerath pulled on his hood and made for his personal passageway into the queen's palace.

[Anonymous]

The silence, broken only once every several minutes by a scream from the nearby dungeons, would be unsettling to those of non-drow origin.  To Kerath though, it was like a warm blanket.  It enveloped him, and he let the silence and darkness of the tunnel become one with him, adding to his stealth, making him even more deadly.  Quickly and efficiently, Kerath checked and opened the secret portal leading into one of the sub-level hallways, near the torture chambers of the priestesses.  As the door slid shut behind him, the warrior flicked his wrist twice.  Running, Kerath caught the impaled bodies and lowered them softly to the floor.  Not wanting to waste any time, he left them where they were.  "No one will even notice their absence until it is to late," Kerath thought, a smile finding its way onto his usually stern face.  He hurried down the hall.  There were still eight more levels before the throne room.

Two of his fellows were down before the third guard began to raise his weapon.  He tried to yell out the alarm but, after seeing only the trailing end of a black cape, found that he was unable to speak.  The doomed guard brought his hand up to his throat, and felt the last of his body's warmth leave his body and fall to his fingertips... before the cold darkness swept over him like a wave.

Kerath was racing up the last flight of stairs to the level of the throne room when he finally met resistance.  He thought about throwing a sphere of light to blind the three guards before him, but decided against it, not wanting to alert the entire compound.  His daggers exausted, Kerath shot his arms out, mithral whips forming a flourish in front of him.  The guards obviously thought they had the upper hand because they did not bother raising the alarm, wanting the glory of thwarting a would-be assasin themselves.  How wrong they were, especially since the narrow stariwell allowed them to only attack him one at a time.  The first guard, wielding a short mace with his right hand, and sporting a spiked glove on his left, came at him, mace swinging low in a faint before moving up and forward to stab Kerath's chest.  The move was sluggish though, and Kerath wrapped his left whip around the mace, bringing it harmlessly wide, and used the momentum from that move to spin into a kick, landing the guard in the nose.  As he came down, Kerath reversed his hold on his right weapon, now a sword, and plunged it into the mace-wielder's throat.  The second guard, one looking more experienced, and wielding two black-steel cutlasses, came in at Kerath more cautiously.  This time it was Kerath who made the first move, stabbing both swordsin at the guard's groin, an obscenely easy to counter move.  The guard, not taking the bate, forced them wide and stepped back one step.  "Damn!"  Kerath thought to himself.  He didn't have this kind of time.  Then, remembering his first duel at the academy, Kerath gathered snot in the back of his throat and spat in the guard's eye, coming in at a low swipe with his blades.  Purely on instinct, the guard jumped back again, but forgot how far the swords could lengthen in becoming whips.  The weapons, elongating, cut down the drow at his knees.  Kerath was quick to slit his throat on his way past.  Seeing his comrades defeated with such ease, the third guard turned and sprinted back up the stairs, only to catch a thrown sword in his back.

Kerath was then at the door to the throne room.  He took a deep breath and pushed through...

[Anonymous]

The door to the queen's private chambers, so seemingly secure within the palace, was not magically protected.  There was no need.  Kerath's sister was a high priestess of Lolth in the highest favor.  She could take care of herself.

Without so much as a wisper from the well made hinges, Kerath stepped into the bedroom, biting his lip in anticipation of what was to come.  His sister, name forgotten to him in his bloodlust that overcame him then, was sitting in an obsidian chair at the rooms only table, a single candle burning above her head by some enchantment of levitation.  The queen was reading through a large, leather-bound book, probably of spells or maps of conquest, and did not yet see or hear the silent warrior walking slowly up behind her.  Kerath could hear his heart thumping in his chest, unheeding to his long-mastered calming techniques.  Revenge had taken control now.  He was concerned that his sister would hear it also, given the volume within Kerath's own ears, and that his marvelous entrance back into her life would be ruined.  But, apparently, the loud thumping was mearly his own imagination, as she did not turn around or begin uttering incantations under her breath, did not move a muscle, and seemed perfectly unaware.  Excellent.

"Vendui ussta ssinssriggin dalninil,"  Kerath spoke softly from a step behind the sitting drow.  Startled, but not yet recognizing the voice, his sister jumped up.  Realizing that she would not have time to take care of this intruder while not having any spells prepared, she mearly turned around slowly, hoping to intimidate.  What she saw, however, made the expression of superiority on her face immediately change into shock.  "Xunus dos llaar z'reninth nindel streea gumash mir rath ussta vharc?"  Kerath said moving closer and lifting his hand for the bitch's throat.  "Ol uriu tlus feir ulu verve.  Xunus dos naut zhaun nindel Usstan orn'la yutsu whol dos?"  The queen could only open her mouth in disbelief.  Kerath knew she was attempting to scream, but she could appaerently find know breath.  But, just to be safe, his hand finished its job, tightening around her throat.  Kerath wanted more than anything to kill her right there and then, bathe in the warmth of the blood his vengeance had achieved.  But no, he would not kill her.  Kerath was not a stupid creature.  He knew that Lolth hated him, loathed him with a passion, and, if she got a hold of his sister, would make sure that Kerath would suffer far more than he did during his enslavement.  Just then Kerath smelled the smoke.  He realized that it was his own flesh that was burning.  His rage and sheer force of will had made him able to get past the various enchantments of protection upon the queen's body, but the final layer had taken its toll.  Kerath did not care though.  it was only pain.  his hand would still function burned.  The enchantment, a last ditch defense, was weak anyway, never needed, and would not likely do any severe damage.  He looked then to his trembling sister's face, frozen in terror.  "Natha brou whol dos, Usstan orn naut elgg dos nin," he told his sister through teeth clenched with the effort not to slit her throat.  "Dos zhal doer xuil uns'aa ulu l' shinduago, vel'klar dos orn screa ulu zah'har dal foluss vel'uss, g'rftte ulu ukt ssinssriggin fuma, zhah reiyal al versed wun olt llounen."

And with that he gagged her, and with a dagger to her throat, walked unchallenged back to his secret passageway.  It was only a matter then of walking back to his headquarters.  When he returned with his new prisoner, Kerath found those going with him to the surface were ready to leave.  Some seemed unnerved by an action so bold, but none spoke up against their leader.  Only an hour later, Kerath, along with Bor'raizok and the rest of his personal shadows, prisoner in tow, made their way through the caverns of the Underdark, heading for the cave which would be their gateway to the surface.  "Ajak ussta veldrin, nindel jiv'undus shlu'ta'naut ou'tix jivviim dos wun jala i'dol," He told them as they neared the surface.  "Dos z'klaen har'luth dosst jiv'undus.  Dosst solen orn vost ulu jivviim wun draeval, drill hwuen t'yin, dos z'klaen plynn dosstan draeval p'los l' flamgra'in sssiks.  Z'ress ka orn ussta veldrin!  Z'ress!"  Then, after long days and nights of making his way to and through his former home, Kerath once again glimpsed the distant rooftops of the Dark Mage Village.



(OOC - the last paragraph kinda jumps through time pretty quick, but im sick of rping by myself. ^_^)