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Those that claim the City of Webs their home were recently awoken to a peril not of this realm. Their city plunged into chaos for a solid cycle. The sign of this passing: dark insidious laughter blanketing their cavern and echoing for a time after. A maniac? A Demon? Something else stirs in the deep and even the Drow, self proclaimed masters of the realm, grow weary...

*driven to insainity the young necromancer even spoken too told they where all an illusion, dosnt beleave all that he fought was such a thing, wondering the cavrens in search of the place now embedded into his mind, he wonders around seeking the answers to his questions*

Lo'milmar walked with light steps through the caverns of Edonil towards the plaza. His heavy blue cloak hung from his shoulders and warmed the robed body, for even now his armor was unequiped since he left the melee academy of Edonil. Armed with the vicious looking whip that marked his trade, the slave master continued his patrol. He'd enter the Melee academy to see what precautions have been taken since the laughter echoed through the caverns. He kept an eye on any disruptive behaviour of commoners, adventurers or visitors and would not hesitate to crack his whip, if the situation called for it. The guards that he came across with were made well-aware of the event.

"Report any extraordinary behaviour to your commanding officer, if you can't find any, run all the way to the Temple, I don't care how you' deliver the report but do it! Oh, remove all pesterers immediatly."

He'd keep an eye on any commoner that'd gather near the temple in despair alongside the present Temple Guards. Muttering to himself:
"I shall hope for Ilharess Maral's sake this has nothing to do with the dead hag in her Qu'ellar, the Ul'ath'taller would not be pleased."

In the "Iniquity", Aushrin the bard interrupts his song and listens thoughtfully.
After a while he continues the foregoing song with a last rhyme.

"What is this laughter that i hear? It makes me growing weary!
The joke, this creature shure was told, must have been legendary!"

With that he makes a bow to the audience and rushes out in order to find the source of the laughter.

The following would be tacked to the magthere notice board, written in shaky shorthand and doused in blood. Below it, a strange pile of assorted construct parts had been dumped.

Patrol Report - Ust'sargtlin Victyr d'My'afin

Patrolling in and around baphitaur caves, eliminated usual hostiles then looped back towards city. Attacked by strange, enraged hook creature on return journey. Upon immediate return, large band of Baphitaur rushed gate but manage to hold. Gates then assaulted in waves by varying constructs, including ruby golems, gates held. Creature appeared behind lines from -inside- city, butchered a number of residents before stopped. Fighting followed by disembodied laughter, possibly svirfneblin. Patrols reveal no further hostiles in or around city.

Upon subsequent inspection, the gate seems to be undamaged. The deceased seem to have died with looks of horror on their faces and otherwise no physical wounds.

Il'haress Maral Tinnerai moves through the main cavern of the City of Webs, surrounded by her personal guard, and several house servants. As she moves between any groups of commoners they encounter she encourages them all to move behind the Tinnerai walls for safety, ordering the servants to help move supplies of those that see the wisdom behind such an offer from the Second Il'haress of Edonil.

After the laughter subsides, Isendu't'tar resumes his preaching at the foot of the cliff below the Magthere. However, rather than glory and battle and slaying one's foes, his sermons take on a more.. somber tone. The key theme, however, is to trust in the guidance of Selvetarm, for he will make one's blade strike true, and keep one's body intact. In the end, faith in the Queen's Champion will usher in glory in life and death for all jaluken.

Elvinna'dris sighs, lifting her head off her desk in the Temple. She wearily looks up and mumbles under her breath.

Bella dos, malla. Always perfect timing you have.

She pushes the papers off to the side and makes her way to the jail. "Shut that priso--" she begins, and then she frowns, glancing about as yath'abbanen shiver in fear and no prisoner seems to be in the cell.

*A primary victim of the hallucinations in the streets, As'drubal spends the next cycle relaxing in his quellar's apartments, trying his best to clear his mind of the improbable things that happened and his quiet concern that his mind is so easily deceived. At his desk reading over a copy of his lieutenant Victyr's report he pauses and seeks a solution to this crisis in his characteristically direct way; sending orders to his commoner troops to be ready themselves for conflict and to begin an intense review of Svirfneblin battle tactics and hiding locations throughout the Underdark.*

*Aushrin sits on a table in the iniquity and reconsiders the happenings and information he got from interogating certain people. He dips a feather into ink and begins to write...*

Quote:

The Tale of the Keeper part I
A song by Aushrin the Linthar

Not much about the laugh we know,
that forced us in that horrorshow.
Thoose who have a simple mind,
might see weird pictures of all kind.

So far ones arm got bitten by a spider,
Some males mistook a priestress for a drider.
All that, we came to the conclusion,
Was nothing but a strong illusion.

What happens next? We cannot say.
Yet, we are puppets in a play.
We must research, we must dig deeper,
To bring him to his knees, this 'keeper'.

We must beat him in his own game,
To have him punished in Lolth's name.
And dare him if he should return,
down to his ashes he shall burn!

*A copy of the text is posted at the iniquity wall. Most likely to make clueless people awhare that something weird is going on*

Birroudin, having seen firsthand the grand illusions of this insuing chaos, returns to his hunts, seeking a solution in the blood of those yet to have fallen. "Aye," he mutters to himself," may the svirfneblin prey to their gods for mercy, for I shan't show any."

'It's clear this thing enjoys playing games, and I don't like losing!'

Aushrin's words rang out in the Dark as he and Victyr mused over the recent attacks that plagued Edonil. The Sargtlin couldn't help but agree with the Linthar, it had taken him some time to get over the last attack.

'But what are we to do? I've reported events to the proper authorities, in accordance with my duty.'

Victyr regretted his words almost immediately, knowing he was making a terrible excuse.

'Perhaps you should value yourself a little more, Sargtlin. You had some first hand experience of our assailant, did you gain nothing from it? We can not wait around as our opponent moves all his pieces, it's time we made a move of our own.'

He clenched his teeth at Aushrin's chastisement, forcing himself to remain calm. He considered his response carefully before making it.

'You are right, Linthar. This is not a game that will be won quickly or easily, we have very little to go on, but we do have something.'

'Then let me hear it.'

Victyr took a deep breath, attempted to order his thoughts, then launched into his hypothesis.

'The creature is either a very powerful illusionist or psionic. The laughter heard after each attack sounds as though it belongs to a svirfneblin. The words I heard during my nightmare mentioned that my attacker was the 'Keeper's ward', so this 'svirfneblin' is working for some higher power. Why attack us? It could be anything.'

He paused, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he struggled to come to a conclusion.

'W- What can we do about it?'

He made a hesitant start before committing himself fully, his brow set in grim determination.

'We can launch an expedition into L'obsul, question the local svirfneblin, then capture one or two from the outlying regions to bring back for interrogation. They might know something, and even if they don't, they may act as bait for another attack we would be prepared for. We could also search the libraries for any reference made to this 'Keeper'.'

'How do we get the svirfneblin through L'obsul and back to Edonil with no-one noticing?'

The Sargtlin flashed a toothy grin, he had been prepared for this question and was more than a little proud of himself.

'We take a cart laden with rolls of linens and silks and pose as traders. We can hide one or two svirfneblin amongst them.'

'Fair enough. Well there's no time like the present.'

Though Victyr felt his cunning plan deserved more recognition, he consented to depart anyway. The two of them acquired the necessary items then embarked upon the journey to L'obsul. They arrived a few hours later and set about searching for svirfneblin residents. Once they had finished questioning all those that they found, they set out into the wilderness beyond L'obsul to find the secluded svirfneblin village. They ambushed the first patrol they encountered and Aushrin forced two into compliance with his magic. Victyr tied them up, gagged them, then rolled them up in the cloths. They trundled their cart back through L'obsul and before leaving, tacked up a reward poster beseeching anyone with information regarding the 'Keeper' to get in touch. The reward for useful information was 100,000 gold pieces and a bag of valuable gems.

//Who ran that last part out of curiosity?

//Nobody, that's just what we rp'd doing, was hoping for the npc responses here!

The notice seems to be professionally written. It is posted on the bulletin boards of the Temple, the Melee Magthere, the Sorcere, and at each merchant stall. A copy is sent to each of the qu'ellars in Edonil.

Posted Notice wrote:

Thanks to the quick action and sharp mind of Ust'Sutrinos Auen'nal Tinnerai,
the creature which induces madness with its dark laughter has been identified,
as well as the means by which it interacts with our citizens!

BEWARE REFLECTIONS!

The being which bears the appearance of a Svirfneblin accesses our plane by way of reflections.
It can appear in a reflection from armor, water, even in the eyes of those living or dead!

House Tinnerai recommends all citizens remain warded against mental influences at all times
to prevent falling victim to the madness, and control of this being!

The populace reacts strongly following the announcement. What had been timid fear becomes unbridled panic.

Con artists peddle helmets in the streets, approaching their fellow Drow to sell them "The latest fashion in Mental Protection!" as others splash black paint upon anything that shines.

Those with enough wealth to afford slaves are particularly paranoid and are seen blindfolded, their slaves leading them about town.

The lowest of the low sieze the oppurtunity to amass coin, offering 'safe disposal' of mirrors, taking them, and simply reselling them in L'Obsul.

The balance of power amongst the Houseless Drow within the City of Webs is twisting. Perhaps even caught within a web itself.

Elvinna'dris is roused from business in the spider pits of the Temple from all the notice-posting and community commotion. She steps out into the streets, watching young, blindfolded Ussen d'Vhid pass by and smirking. Stupid... but chaotic. The Queen will be pleased until they're all dead I suppose.

Malag'Yaz walked the street with a straight posture and was apparently seen walking to the temple. He inquired the malla ul'ath'tallar there, but having not been directed to her he chose to wait and see if he'd catch her at the entrance of the temple. There he was seen fiddling his bags, looking for some items and the guards by the door would indeed, if asked about his presence and doings, notify that Malag'Yaz seemed a bit nervous and was seen donning a few magicla trinkets about his presence. Perhaps to ward his presence better for coming mental attacks? It was the observers guess.

*As the battle over his mind continues. He was in the middle of breifing the ul'ath'taller when it struck him again. This time much different. This time Havering no chance in fighting.*

"How are you so much stronger!".

*auen fighting listening to the voice that had taken over his mind. Auen glanceing around looking for something reflective he quickly grabs a potion and throws to smash it on the ground. Seeing something other then himself.*

Vith dos

*as it laughs in his head he attempts to remove it. His will sapping away draining him of his own actions... Auen did what normally would never cross his mind knowing he had been defeated by this faceless creature. With out control or way to fight it. Auen leaps over the desk and strikes the Ul'ath'taller. When he was able to control himeself he drops to his knees his head low covered in her blood. He drops both axes and mutters the voices words before he fell to his face not able to fight any longer. Auen now transported into the tinnerai cells sits idle. His hair covereing his face. Little to unknown just what goes threw his head.*

// To kill the screamer and the mind taker!! This saterday to destroy him! time! >.>

// bump >.>

//I'm going to be at a shrimp boil for my Mom's birthday. I wont be avail until after about 5pm CST (1am GMT I think).

// You should take OOC scheduling to here: viewtopic.php?f=50&t=63496

Estara wrote:

// You should take OOC scheduling to here: viewtopic.php?f=50&t=63496

Yeah ^^ totally forgot we had a little post in the UD thread lol

Once again the song is performed within the Iniquity. According to the author it was written to summarise the recent events for thoose who were lucky enough not experience thoose themselves. A piece of drow history, claims the Linthar and part time hobby historian.

Quote:

The Tale of the Keeper part II
A song by Aushrin the Linthar

Here's a story to be told,
for all you people, young and old,
to remind you of the might
when our houses do unite

As the laughter reached its peak
you felt unconcious, you felt weak
It now has been identified
An aboleth we have to fight

An ancient creature full of hate
spreads tentacles to dominate
and dare thoose who get caught offguard
release their mind just like a fart.

But the drow dont stand by idle,
and houses of the highest title
leave their conflicts once aside
and for that fight they do unite

House Tinnerai prepared for battle,
A hammer and an axe did rattle,
the ilharess herself appeared,
with her strongest jaluk fully geared.

Ilharess My'afin's coulours shining bright,
two bulky males right at her side
In her hand a devlish flail,
This force united could not fail.

Down throgh the chasm and much deeper,
they dived down to locate the keeper.
Young aboleths got in their way,
but they were but an easy prey.

Eventually they came to rouse,
the keeper, as big as a house.
Three eyes with most dreadfull looks,
Tentacles huge as slimy hooks.

The Tinnerai male lost his mind as first,
attacked his kin in insane bloodthirst.
His ilharess with malicious frown
had to fell her own male down.

As next chance to escape its fate,
The beast tried to negotiate.
Its attempts did not turn the tide,
No compromise, it had to fight.

Countless tendrils met the steel of drow,
like to give ones bloody nose a blow,
a cruel battle coulored water red,
My'afins coulor down at the seabed.

In the fury of this cruel spectale,
Tinnerai's ilharess met a hard tentacle,
Unconcious she had to pass out,
for a moment victory was in doubt.

The males Gul'vir and As'drubal though,
continued to attack to the foe.
And soon thanks to their combined power,
the keeper sensed its final hour.

Their arms too strong, their blades too keen,
the water smelled like aboleth urine.
Tentacles moved away, there was no doubt,
the aboleth had chickened out.

And here it ends my little story,
you can't outmatch the drow's glory.

A Laugh in the Black

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