Consequences of Attempted Destruction

As stated this was done on a challenge to see if I could write a story without using names, so people could insert characters they felt deserved the treatment into the role. Of course no character belongs to me, whoever you make them out to be. Also things will get more involved in the second chapter. The first one is quite tame.

It was darker than usual, at least to his eyes, which was odd since the room was so warm, usually he saw the heat patterns giving form and life to the world around him, but it all seemed dark. A few more moments of conscious thought allowed him to recognize that there was a mask obscuring his vision, but he breathed no easier. A deep breath brought awareness of several broken ribs, and a strange incense. A shift to the left brought the knowledge that his hands and feet were bound. This was defiantly not good. He sighed, releasing the long held breath, nobody would defend him, he would die, and nobody would notice. Perhaps he could fight his way out, yes that was always an option, but the low purr of female voices from beyond the door pushed his mind from rebellion. Such was the way of Lolth, the unwary and unfit died at the hands of those closest to her. He did not like to be thought of as unworthy of his Goddess, perhaps they would sacrifice him… a small part of him rejoiced that he might be a sacrifice to the Goddess, the rest of his mind did not. He knew that sacrifices were not always special, not always worthy, he knew how Lolth “favoured” her fallen.

-----

It had not been a good day, not a good day at all, she had been humiliated in front of her younger sisters, and her mother. Of course she was already plotting to remove all who witnessed her shame from the realm of the living, as any good Drow would do. And she was a good Drow; everybody knew how closely she held Lolth’s faith and law. Her abilities were great, but, as her mother so “kindly” pointed out, not great enough. Not even great enough to keep a male under control, to bend him to her will. It was her sisters doing she was sure of it. That girl had been eying the position of first daughter ever since she drew breath, she was proud of her sister, for she also was a good Drow.

In truth she would have wanted nothing less; after all, the greatest indicator of power is that someone is trying to take it from you. She let out a slow breath as she advanced towards her sister’s room, that most hated of rivals. Her feet made no sound on the stone, she melted into the shadows, even to the sensitive infravision inherent in the dark elves she was nothing more than a wisp of smoke, and with a Lolth blessed prayer, dispelled the wards within the room.

The fool is in reverie, does she expect no reprisal, and does she think me cowed into inaction? She looked at the vulnerable form of her sister, sitting cross-legged on a cushion. Smiling widely she drifted amongst the shadows, hovering right in front of the scheming whore’s face; she began to chant, silently. Tendrils of shadow began to wind their way about skin as dark as pitch, they solidified suddenly, binding the younger woman. She looked up, startled from her reverie, into the vicious eyes of her older sister, gleaming like fresh spilled blood, and promising the same.

---

So, you thought that you could move against me, my dearest sister… AH! Don’t answer me, I’ll not have your mouth moving, although I trust you deeply, but for some reason I think you might try to spell me. I have the male in the cells; I will deal with him later. I know all about your little game, and just to show you how willing I am to play along, I will show you how to do things properly. You will thank me when I am finished, not many have a chance to witness my expertise.

She withdrew a small silver dagger from a pocket in her cloak, stepping forward till she was face to face with the other woman. Now I can’t have you missing anything, why sometimes I move so fast if you blinked you’d miss it. So I shall have to make sure you don’t blink. Now hold very still, we don’t want to damage anything. Raising the dagger, she let the blade play along the cheek of her captive before sliding up to the corner of the woman’s eye. Now remember, hold still. She reached up and pulled the eyelid forward, and with a quick flick of her wrist, removed it. Cupping her hand over the wound, she chanted another prayer, healing the eye. It would not do to have blood obscuring your vision, dear sister… are you ready for the next one?

She stood back, surveying her work; her sister was already trembling, good. She let he mind drift back to her classes at the academy. She recalled the bodies of partly dissected elves, the mistresses of the academy were so skilled that they could keep the wretched things alive fore hours, even days, on the tables for the students to poke and prod, trying their own, inadequate processes in attempts to refine their talents.

She pushed several books off of a table and manoeuvred her sister onto it… propping her head up just enough so she could see what would be done to her body. She had a few hours yet, enough time to show the wench what true vengeance was… and then she would show that insolent male just what it meant to have angered her.