I Want This One - TrappedInAFantasy37 (2024)

Chapter 1: The Raid on Moonrise

Chapter Text

The tower really stands out amongst the dark and shadowed landscape. A pillar in the community that has been ravaged by the shadows. Despite its desolate condition, it has weathered the test of time as well as the curse that it is built in. But that curse is slowly eating away at its integrity. Bricks and stone lie about as the tower begins to enter into a state of death and decay. Holes and breaches have been punched into the towers exterior. If the tower were to be sieged, it could be taken with ease.

Despite it being a lone structure in the dark, it is illuminated by the moon lanterns that surround the perimeter. The only visible entrance to the tower is the bridge leading up to it. The residents would be able to see any army coming. So, why is no one attacking?

There are plenty of ramparts in which an archer could be hiding, ready to take a shot. But, no one is there. There could be soldiers standing at the other end of the bridge, using it as a chokepoint. But, no one is there. Hell, spell casters can be using the breaches in the tower walls as cover to take shots. But no one is there. Why? Is this not the origin of the missionaries who dared to encroach on Lolth's territory?

Minthara orders her men forward and to open the doors. They filter into the tower and fan around, looking for enemies. She walks into the entrance foyer, but no one is here. The corpses she interrogated gave her the impression that this was the headquarters of a cult, the Cult of the Absolute. And yet, it is empty. There is no sign that anyone was here, at least not recently.

Furniture lays about, broken into pieces and some of its wood rotted. Artwork hangs loosely from the stone walls, the paint having been eaten away either by time or the curse. Candles lay on the floor, on tables, in braziers, unlit and unburnt as they no longer have any wicks to be lit. Spider webs crawl and wrap around nearly every surface of the cobblestone walls, providing a better decoration that the artwork. This place may have once been a place of power to the region and held great importance to the local community. But now, it is left to be forgotten in a pitiful state.

"Everything is clear, Mistress." One of her scouts approaches her, giving his report. "All that is left is that door." he points to the two decorative doors before her.

"Open it." she commands him. He nods his head and walks towards the door. The rest of her men approach the door and file into a battle position, ready to attack whatever may be on the other side. They all look back to her, awaiting her signal. She nods her head, and the scout swings open the door.

She had at least expected a few lone soldiers, maybe a spell mage. What she did not expect was a freshly laden feast table. Minthara furls her brow at the sight. Everything about this seems so strange. There is no one in the tower, and yet, there is a freshly prepared feast? Even in the distance, she can see the steam rising from the food. It had been prepared quite recently. But by who?

Her men slowly filter into the room, inspecting the surroundings. She slowly walks behind them to the table. The candles in the foyer may have been dark, but the ones in here shine bright, giving the feast hall a warm light. On the table, goblets of wine at every place resting alongside plates and utensils. Just enough for her and her men to have a spot. The table is overflowing with exotic meats, freshly cut and prepared fruits, roasted vegetables and herbs. It is an enticing feast. The aroma in the room is overwhelming. Someone is expecting her.

In the back of the room, she hears heavy and slow footsteps. Some of her men pull their swords, ready to attack whoever or whatever is descending. Behind the spiral, a man appears. Minthara can feel his hateful aura radiate throughout the entire room. A man with silver hair and a thick beard to match. Sunken eyes and pale skin. His veins, visible through his thinning skin. If she didn't know any better, this man is dead. But corpses do not stand as commanding as he is.

He looks down at her warriors who begin to circle around the bottom of the staircase, making it quite clear that they will attack if he proves to be a threat. Despite being severely outnumbered and outarmed, he does not appear to be the least bit intimidated or frightened.

He looks past her warriors and directly to her, "I was wondering how long it would take for someone to answer the call. Please, have a seat. Your travels here must have been long and tiring. Be me guest." he waves to the table.

All of her men look to her, awaiting her instructions. She knows that they are hungry and the food in the room is very enticing. Why let this feast go to waste? After all, it was meant for her, it would seem. She flicks her head, and her men begin to walk to the table and take a seat. The man looks to her, and waves his hand to the chair at the head of the table. She follows his hand and takes her rightful place.

As she makes herself comfortable, she looks down the table to the food. A feast befitting a house matron. She looks up at the door that she walked through. There were no signs of sigils on the outside of the room nor in the entrance foyer. But, in here, on the inside of the door, she can see it. The same symbol that the missionaries were wearing, the symbol of the Absolute.

He clearly was expecting her and prepared a feast. The outside of the tower is cleanly empty, but the inside here is decorated. He must have cleared it out to lower her guard. She grows suspicious of the food. If she was in his position, she would have poisoned it. She rests against the back of the chair and watches as her men dig into the food. If any one of them begin to struggle, she will know that the food has been tampered with.

"I presume you are here to report to me on my scouts. It has been weeks and I have not heard from them." the man says, standing next to her.

"Your missionaries encroached in Lolth's territory, asking for fealty to another god. I am afraid that their mission has come to a more final conclusion." Minthara responds to him.

"I would expect nothing less from a daughter of Menzoberranzan. I had hoped that I would have been able to form an alliance with one of the houses. But, it appears that my hopes had overcome my caution. I appreciate you informing me of their fates. To whom do I owe the pleasure to?"

"I am Nightwarden Minthara Baenre."

"Nightwarden Minthara. It is an honor to have you here in my halls. I am General Ketheric Thorm."

"General Thorm." she nods her head to him. Despite this unpleasant situation she finds herself in, she can't help but respect this man. Despite admitting that she has murdered his scouts, he does not seem all too displeased about it, nor does he seem intent on retaliating against her. Almost as if he expected them to die for getting too close to her.

She looks back over to her men as they continue their dinner. They do not seem to have any ill effects. But not all poisons act fast. She considers digging into the food herself. She too hasn't eaten anything today. But, she still feels uneasy. This General Thorm may have been expecting his scouts to die, but how did he know exactly when she would arrive?

In the distance, she can hear footsteps echo in the outer foyer. Someone is approaching them. She readjusts herself in her chair to get a better look at the stranger and determine if they may be an enemy.

"No need for alarm, Nightwarden. Unlike you, she is an... unexpected guest. Arrived here earlier today to make a delivery. I have a feeling that you two may get on well." General Thorm says down to her.

Minthara watches as the stranger walks into the dining hall. The stranger is wearing a very heavy hunting coat. A few holes have been torn in the sides and the edges shown signs of wear and tear. Underneath the coat is lightly padded armor. She is unable to make out the strangers face as they have their hood up, covering their features.

As they move, she can get a glimpse of a red dagger strapped to the strangers hip. The red blade curves and twists almost as if it was made of blood. A bright red stone is embedded in the center of the daggers decorative hilt. Strapped to their back is quiver full of arrows, and a bow. A hunter? A ranger?

The stranger throws their bow and quiver down on the ground in a nearby corner. They walk up to the table and reach over the shoulder of one of her men grabbing at the looser meats. From General Thorm's description, this stranger appears to be his ally. If this stranger is his ally and they are willing to eat the food, then it is most likely not poisoned.

The stranger flops down in the chair on the other end of the table and sits sideways, allowing their back to rest against one arm, and crossing their legs against the other. They lift the meat to their mouth and begin to devour it with their hands. Confident now that the food is not poisoned, Minthara reaches down to the table and begins to fill her plate.

She is surprised at how flavorful the food is. From her previous raids, surface food is generally flavorless and bland. As she eats, she looks back up to the stranger. As they lean their head back to eat, their hood falls off revealing their face. She is a drow. She has multiple rings pierced along the edges of her ears, with one piercing along her eyebrow, and another on her bottom lip.

Minthara watches the drow as her long wavy hair moves freely with her movements. But there is something in her hair and along the side of her face, blood. Minthara looks over her clothing again and sees the crimson on the black of her coat.

As the drow finishes her meat, she co*cks her head to the side and looks at Minthara with ruby red eyes. Most drow who are sworn to Lolth have red eyes, but hers are different. Hers have a slight glow to them. If the feast hall wasn't lit with torches and stood in complete darkness, Minthara is confident that she would still be able to see her red eyes shining through the dark.

"Bone-Lord?" she says in an arresting voice, refusing to break eye contact with Minthara, "You didn't tell me earlier that you had guests."

"I would have told you if I was expecting you. I had half expected you to turn around and return to Baldur's Gate." he lets out a very deep exhale, "But you are still here."

"If I had known that a Baenre was here, I would have worn my fancier clothes." the stranger flashes Minthara a devious smile, "After all, we should be honored that a woman of her station is in our presence. We must be quite special for a Baenre to grace us." she says in mockery.

The stranger refuses to break eye contact with Minthara. A rage begins to boil in the paladins blood. She does not like being stared at in this manner, and she does not like being mocked. The stranger brings a hand up to her cheeks.

"You'll have to excuse my mess. You see, I took my little sister on a hunting trip in the woods. Instead of learning from what I had to teach her, she decided to try to kill me, the ungrateful whor*. So, I had to scramble her brains a little. I brought her here so that she can receive some... 'treatment'."

"Treatment? Do you mean to imply that your sister still lives?" Minthara asks, taking another bite of the meat.

"Yes, she does. She always envied that I was dads favorite. I thought about killing her. But, where's the fun in that? She tried to kill me while I was only trying to help her not be the pathetic f*ck that she is. But... I couldn't just kill her. No..." she growls, "Poking a few holes in her brain has made her a fool, stupid. Her living the rest of her life as an even bigger idiot than she already was brings me greater pleasure than just killing her."

"Hmph, if I was in your position, I would not have been so merciful. I would have killed her without hesitation and then left her behind in those woods without a second thought."

"And I'm sure you'd know all about killing sisters, hm?" the drow shifts her position in the chair and sits with her body facing Minthara. She pulls out her dagger and stabs it into the table, allowing the point to dig a hole in the wood. "I don't care for the politics of killing siblings. Not anymore, not since leaving Menzoberranzan. For my little sister, killing was too good for her. You say having her live is a mercy. I disagree. Death, is merciful for what I have planned for her."

"You are from Menzoberranzan?"

"Why yes I am. Or, was so to speak."

"And where did you live exactly? You hold yourself like a powerful warrior and not many drow visit the surface unless to raid. And, you do not appear to be leading one."

"Oh, like the one you've got going on right now?" the drow waves her hand to Minthara's men who are diving deep into the food. "Yes, quite the raid this one is... I used to live on the streets, the down in the dirty parts. The part that is forgotten about. But, I eventually worked my way to the top of the hill."

"In Qu'ellarz'orl?"

"Maybe."

Minthara looks the drow over once more. Her words imply nobility, but she does not sit, act, or hold herself like a noble. Her words also imply that she is one of poverty. It is an extraordinarily rare thing for someone so low to work their way into nobility. If this drow is a noble like she implies, it is even more curious as to why she is on the surface.

"Why did you leave Menzoberranzan?"

"I heard a call. A whisper. In my blood. Driving me out of the Underdark. Since I've left, I've never gone back."

"Do you want to?"

"If I could, I would. But I can't, so I shan't."

Even more curious. A drow who cannot return to the Underdark? What would prevent her from returning? Has she lost Lolth's favor?

"Plus, I like it up here, for the most part. Much better than it was down there." the drow looks away from Minthara. The paladin can gleam in her eyes that she's lying. She doesn't like it up here. She wants to go home.

"Here? Where your own sister tries to murder you? Yes, it does seem quite the life. Much better than you could have had back at home." Minthara mocks her back. "Your sister wronged you. Attempted to take your life while you were trying to help her learn new skills. You sure seem confident that she'll never regain her faculties enough to threaten your life again. How?"

The drow flashes her top teeth at her. "I have my ways. Tell me, eh, what's your first name?"

"Minthara"

"Minnie, tell me, if your sister tried to kill you, how would you do it? How would you kill her?"

"As I said, without hesitation. If my sister had tried to take my life at any point, I would ensure that my dagger became very familiar with the heart that beats inside her chest. And as a warning to my other sisters, I may just hang her by her entrails in my doorway."

"That's it? You'd just... stab her? Hang her out like decoration?" the drow continues to twist her blade, digging a hole deeper and deeper into the table. Minthara can hear General Thorm exhale behind her in sheer annoyance of the drow destroying his furniture.

"She would be dead. What more would there be for me to do?"

The drow flashes her teeth again as she laughs at Minthara. She slowly begins to rise and puts her foot on the table. And then, quick as lightning, she dashes across the table and slits the throat of all her men. Before Minthara can react, the drow is now face to face with her. The drow holds Minthara's hands against the back of the chair as she straddles herself in Minthara's lap.

The drow begins to speak with a hot and heavy whisper, "You don't like to waste your time, do you? Just get the job done and move on. Practical, efficient, pragmatic. I like you."

Minthara can say nothing. She is paralyzed with fear. She moves her eyes to look behind the strangers shoulder. Most of her men did not survive her ambush. Those that did are left drowning in their own blood as they struggle to breath. She can hear them gurgle and choke on it while they take their last breaths.

"Ketheric," she says, "I want this one. But-" she grabs Minthara's chin and aggressively turns her head. She lifts up her dagger and begins to tap it against the left side of Minthara's neck, "-she's branded herself. This won't do. I can't have people know how valuable she is. I can't give anyone a reason to take her from me."

Minthara's breath begins to shudder as General Thorm places a heavy grip against her shoulder, tight enough to crack the bone. She feels the pressure in her back as he uses his intense strength to force her down into the chair. She closes her eyes as the drow begins to lightly glide the blade down her neck. Her breath begins to stutter, terrified of what the drow might do to her.

"It's okay, I can fix it." the drow whispers into her ear. Minthara begins to scream out as the drow starts to dig into her throat. "Sshh, sshh, I'm going to fix it, I will fix everything. It's okay. I know it hurts, but I won't take too long..." the drow says as she continues slicing into Minthara's neck.

Minthara tries to resist the pain, but it is overwhelming as bolts of electricity travel down her neck and down her spine. She begins to writhe underneath the drow, trying to force her off her lap. She is incredibly small and light-weight. She should not be too much trouble. Minthara is rewarded for her effort as the drow pulls out another dagger and pushes it deep into Minthara's leg. A guttural scream escapes Minthara's throat.

"Stop it! Do you want me to fix you, or not? Now, hold. Still. I'm almost done, princess."

Minthara clenches her jaw and keeps her screams contained. She can feel the cold metal of the blade in her thigh and her blood begins to gush through her leathers. A tear begins to escape her eye at the overwhelming amount of pain in her neck, and now her leg. She tightly grips onto the arms of the chair to brace herself.

The drow puts even more force against Minthara's head, forcing it against the chair. She then takes the edge of the blade and begins to peel a chunk of Minthara's flesh off her neck. She can't help but scream out again in agony. She can feel every single inch of her skin separate from the deeper tissue and muscle.

She opens her eyes and sees that a square and thin chunk of her own flesh is pierced into the point of the drows dagger. The drow has cut off her tattoo. Minthara begins to whine and whimper in pain. Bile begins to rise up in her throat as the pain throughout her entire body becomes overwhelming and she enters into shock. The drow stabs the dagger into the arm of the chair, dangerously close to Minthara's arm. The drow's fingers become illuminated with a light blue glow as she begins to apply healing magic to Minthara's fresh wound.

"Look at me." she whispers. Minthara begins to hyperventilate as she looks at the drow. "It's okay. You're okay. I fixed you." the pain in her neck begins to subside as the wound begins to seal. Her chest begins to tighten as her breath still escapes her.

The drow cups the sides of Minthara's face and forces her to look her in her illuminated ruby eyes, "Nobody can know how valuable you are, that is only for me to know. I cannot have someone from your house trying to find you when I take you home with me. But, before I take you home with me, you can meet my sister? I'll have to take you below first, I can only fix so much for you up here."

"Wh - who are you?" Minthara says in a pained whisper as she desperately holds on to consciousness. But her vision begins to fade. Before total blackout, she hears one last thing.

"My name is Daedra. And you, Minthara Baenre -" Daedra begins to run her fingers down Minthara's neck, "You are mine."

Chapter 2: An Impossible Choice

Chapter Text

The images in Minthara's eyes are fuzzy as they begin to whirl into view. Her stomach begins to churn with the onset of dizziness. No matter how much she blinks, the images between her eyes just don't want to come together properly. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against, something. Something soft... something wet...

A slight pain webs out from her neck and an even greater and deeper ache comes from her leg. Surprisingly, the hole in her leg does not hurt as much as it was when the drow dug her blade into it.

She tries to listen to her surroundings, get an idea of where she is. There are nearby footsteps, but they don't move around a lot. When they do move, the sound does not bounce against stone. But, something... squishy and wet. Flesh? It smells like rotten flesh too. And the air is warm but damp. Small metal clangs fly through the air as what sounds like medical utensils are placed down into a metal tray.

A slight panic begins to rise in her chest. The tools must be meant for her for further torture. The drow isn't quite done with her yet. What more can she possibly do? What exactly has Minthara done to offend her so much?

A pair of hands wrap around her leg and tightly squeeze at the wound, pulsing pain through Minthara's body. She clenches her jaw to contain her pain to try not to give away that she's conscious. But, to her surprise, the pain actually begins to fade away a bit.

The sensation of something being shoved into the open wound causes her to wince and instinctively jerk her leg. She opens her eyes and looks down with sharp breaths as she tries to contain her discomfort. The edges of her field of vision are still blurry, but she can see the drow sitting in a chair in front of her. In her hand is a cotton swab drenched in some kind of amber liquid.

"I know it hurts, Minthara. But I need you to hold still." the drow says grabbing onto her leg. Minthara continues to wince as the drow puts the cotton swab back into the hole in her leg and moves it around along the edges of the exposed flesh. "I can only heal so much of the deep tissue at a time, so I have to close it slowly from the inside. In the meantime, I have to make sure it doesn't get infected."

Why is she doing this? Why is she trying to heal me? It's her fault I am injured in the first place!

The drow finishes scraping the inside of Minthara's flesh and sets the cotton swab on a nearby table. She reaches back up to the nearby table and grabs a glass jar containing heavy duty medical wraps.

"Lift your leg up." she commands Minthara. She is reluctant to do anything this drow says. But, for the moment, she is trying to help Minthara. So, the paladin does what she's told and slowly lifts up her leg and the drow begins to tightly wrap the medical tissue around it. "I apologize that I stabbed you so deeply. But, I do hope you've learned that when I tell you to do something, I expect you to follow what I say. If you're lucky, you won't have a limp."

As the drow wraps up Minthara's leg, she takes the time to look around her surroundings now that her vision has recovered. Her sense of sound did not deceive her, everything here is indeed made of flesh. It is absolutely putrid and disgusting. Minthara furls her lip to the sounds and sight of the walls that are somehow alive. It is not made any better when she discovers that she herself is laying in a cocoon of flesh. She tries to slightly move her body only to learn that she is restrained. The only thing that is loose is her injured leg, presumably so that the drow may repair it.

As the drow finishes her work, she leans back in the chair and looks at Minthara as Minthara looks down at her. The drow's illuminated red eyes do not give away her intentions in the slightest bit and Minthara cannot get a read on her. In one moment she seemed rather calm and collected, in the next moment she ambushes Minthara and kills her men, in the next she is mutilating her, and now the drow is healing her. Why? Why is she doing all of this? What does she intend to do?

The drow stands up from the chair and grabs onto the bottom of Minthara's chin and gently turns her head. The drow allows a finger glowing with the blue of healing magic to run down the side of Minthara's neck, against the freshly made scar on it.

"It's a superficial wound, but it's fine. Although, it'll leave a pretty wicked scar. Don't worry about it though, you're still pretty. We can always get you another tattoo if you ever start feeling insecure about it." the drow says lightly tapping her hand against Minthara's cheek.

"The missionaries that I had Ketheric send back home did their job as I needed them to. I expected someone to follow, but I did not expect a Baenre. I did not expect... you. So, why did you follow? Why did you come to Moonrise when you could have just stayed home?" the drow asks her. But Minthara does not say a word. She does not get interrogated. The drow births a crooked smile on her face and begins to chuckle, "What? Don't want to talk? Fine. Keep your secrets. You'll tell me eventually, princess. These... nasty halls do get ever so lonely." the drow turns around and begins to walk away.

Minthara's eyes very carefully follow the drow as she walks to the other side of the room. There is another patient who is strapped down in an identical flesh cocoon. Another victim, perhaps? Her skin is pasty white and her light blonde hair drapes over her face. Blood is pooling out of the top of her skull and runs down her entire body. The drow grabs onto the pale woman's face and lifts her eyelids. Minthara can only catch a glimpse, but even this woman's eyes are completely white.

The drow lets go of her head and it just falls against her chest. The drow does not seem interested in helping this woman at all. Perhaps this is the sister she spoke of? It is slow to rise, but the woman's chest does move. She is alive. But for how long? What will the drow do to her? Minthara's breath begins to shudder to the notion that she may be facing the same fate as this poor woman.

The drow walks back over to Minthara, "Wait here just a moment, I need to grab something for you." the drow turns and walks away. A door made of flesh opens as she nears it. The sound of ooze and slime is enough to make Minthara's stomach lurch.

Now left alone, she tries to test at her restraints, but they are clasped tight. The only thing that is free is her injured leg. She brings the bottom of her foot flat against the back of the cocoon. As she puts pressure on it, a jolt of pain immediately shoots up her leg all the way to the base of her spine. She cannot put her weight on it just yet. She is able to at least pool her own healing magic into her hands, but it is restrained and she is unable to reach the wound.

She tries to pull her hand out of the restraints, but it just does not budge. Despite the metal clasp scratching at her skin, Minthara keeps pulling at it. Eventually, she is able to pull her hand loose, but not without losing some skin. With her hand free, she is able to free herself from her remaining restraints.

She bites her tongue and grits her teeth as pain begins to throb in her leg as she steps out of the cocoon. A sigh of relief escapes her throat as she applies her own healing magic to the hole in her leg. A wound like this goes deep, even her own healing magic will only go so far. She will have to make do with a hole in her leg. She grabs the knife that is in the metal tray and flips it into her hand. Following the same direction as the drow, Minthara slowly begins to limp out of the room, ignoring the pain that repeatedly shoots up her leg as she takes the next step.

She holds her breath as the oozing sounds of the door scrape against her ear. It is very possible that this door may have just given away her position. She continues down the flesh halls as quietly as possible. But true stealth cannot be had as the sounds of wet flesh echo with each footstep of hers. It also doesn't help that one of her footsteps is heavy due to having to put most of her weight onto one leg. She wonders aimlessly through the pink corridors, trying to find an exit.

Before her is another door made of flesh that readily opens up for her. Inside the room is nothing but a nightmare. There are more cocoon pods in this room. Some of the pods contain the bodies of her men, some who still barely cling to life. But some of the other pods contain absolute monstrosities: Mind Flayers. Her surroundings make much more sense now. But how did she get to a Mind Flayer colony and what does this drow have to do with it? If she does not leave fast, she will be turned into one.

She turns around and begins to limp out of the room. Too late. Bramble thorns sprout from underneath her and wrap both of her feet in place. The more she tries to fight against them, the tighter they wrap around her ankles.

"Where are you going, Minnie?" the drow says behind her. Minthara closes her eyes and only listens to the squishes of flesh beneath the drows feet as she approaches the tied up paladin. Eventually, the drow stands before her. "If you wanted to explore, all you had to do was ask. But, you didn't want to talk to me. How rude of you to just leave."

Just because her legs are restrained, does not mean she cannot do anything. She flips the knife around and tries to swipe it at the drow, but she moves her upper body backwards and begins to laugh at Minthara. In response, Minthara flicks her hand and throws the knife. She smiles at the drow as the tip of it pierces into her shoulder. The drow continues to laugh even harder, but does not seem worried for her safety in the slightest.

She pulls the knife out of her shoulder and merely smiles at the restrained paladin, "Oh, I knew I made the right choice claiming you for myself. You just don't stop do you? You are quite the delight!"

The drows eyes glow with a light green color and the vines reach up and wrap around Minthara's wrists, pulling her to the ground. As she lands on her knees, more vines sprout up from the flesh floor and wrap around her legs, ensnaring her in place. She tries to fight out of the ensnarement, but the more she moves, the deeper the thorns on the vines dig into her flesh. She lifts her head as the drow crouches before her. The drow then holds out her palm and in it floats another monstrosity, a Mind Flayer tadpole.

"Do you know what this is, Minnie? I came back here to get it for you. It'll turn you into one of those if you're not careful." the drow points to the cocoon with a Mind Flayer in it. Minthara stares at its bright orange eyes. She can feel its hunger from where she is. It is desperate to feast on her brain matter, and it appears the drow is keen to let it. "And, right now, you are not being very careful." the drow's voice lowers an entire octave as her face twists with annoyance.

The drow tightly grabs onto the bottom of Minthara's chin. She tries to shake her head away, but more thorns sprout from below her and wrap around her neck, holding it in place. The more she moves her head away from the worm, the more the thorns dig into her skin. Her breath begins to escape her as the tadpole nears her eye. She can see its many sharp teeth as it begins to chomp in the air, ready to start feasting on her brain matter.

"Wait!" she says out.

"Oh? She speaks." the drow retracts the worm away from her face. Minthara's eyes dart around. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she wasn't expecting the drow to actually stop. She has to say something, anything. But what? What could she possibly say to convince this drow to spare her and not turn her into a Mind Flayer? "As much as I would like to sit here and stare at your gorgeous face, I do have sh*t to do and I don't have all day."

"You are a cleric, are you not? A Priestess?" Minthara gulps trying to find a way to get out of this. It is clear that this drow is well versed in the ways of healing, both with and without magic. She also hails from Menzoberranzan and has a hint of nobility to her.

The drow chuckles, "I used to be."

"Then you and I are allies! We are both servants of Lolth, sister. I can assist you with... whatever it is you are doing in Lolth's name."

"Ha! Hahahahaha!" the drow laughs at her as she sits on the floor. She holds her hand out and lets the tadpole float around in the air. The thorns around Minthara's neck loosen, but her arms and legs still remain wrapped up. "You are a loyal servant of Lolth, I no longer am. I was... pulled away from Her. She is not too fond of me right now."

"You have lost Her favor? Then let me go. Return with me to Menzoberranzan and I can help you get it back."

"You must be really desperate to get out of here if you think that will work. As you observed, I was once a Priestess. I know better than anyone that there is no just going back to the Underdark when out of favor with Her. She will eat me alive the moment I walk down there. Or worse."

"Not unless I speak for you. On your behalf. I am a Baenre, descendant of Her Chosen. My words do have some sway with Her and I can protect you from Her wrath. You just have to let me go."

"Hmmm." the drow leans back against the flesh floor and looks around, contemplating what Minthara is offering. "But why should I believe you? Obviously you want to get out of here and go home. If I was in your position, I'd have more reason to kill me than to help me. I mean, you quite literally did just stab me."

Minthara chuckles to the drow, "Yes, it was repayment for you stabbing me and removing my flesh. You seem to have good reason to kill me as well. And yet, you aided me and are attempting to heal my injuries."

"That is because you are useful. I am sure that a woman of your status is surely skilled and it would be dumb of me to just let you die. And, you led a retinue of warriors up here. I mean, they did all die, but still. I could use leadership like yours amongst my ranks. If I let you go, I'm sure you'll go crying to mommy and she'll send more forces up here and that'll just be... annoying. I don't want to deal with all that. But, if I take you away and remove any identifying marks, your mommy may send someone up here, but they will never find you and she just might give up and I don't have to deal with a fight. Or, I can do as I intended and claim a noble house of Menzoberranzan for the Absolute. And you, are a gift. A Baenre. Haha, I didn't just get a noble house, I got the most powerful one!"

Minthara looks down at the worm squirming around in the drow's hand. She is failing to convince the drow to spare her from the tadpole. From her words, the drow, and by extension, the Cult of the Absolute, has ill intentions against Menzoberranzan, the noble houses, and is an enemy of Lolth. By her oath, she has a duty to kill this drow right now. But without her warriors, Minthara has lost any possible advantage that she could have. And she currently is not in any position to fight.

This cult needs to be taken care of. It needs to be destroyed before it marches on the Underdark and attempts to wage a war against Lolth and Her territories. But Minthara is not a one woman army. Unless she is able to infiltrate their ranks, get close to this drow. She does already see value in Minthara and is ready to put her in a position of power within the cult itself. It may just be what she needs to destroy it and dismantle it from the inside.

Minthara looks at the drow, and into her eyes that flicker with the flames of blood, "I can see in your eyes that you want to go home, as do I. It is wise not to trust me, I would not either. So, allow me to earn that trust. Give me the opportunity to serve you, prove to you that I may be a capable ally. And then, you and I can both go home together." She does not intend to serve this drow. All she needs is a moment of freedom. This drow most certainly cannot be allowed to return to the Underdark alive.

Minthara swallows hard as the drow leans in very close to her face. The brambles tighten their grip around her wrists, digging even deeper into her flesh.

"There is no trust when it comes to those sworn to Lolth. There is no loyalty, only betrayal. The moment you find an opportunity, you will stab me in the back. I've done it all myself as I am sure you have too. Your word alone will never be enough. I need more if you want me to even begin to trust you and let you go." the drow brings the worm up dangerously close to Minthara's face. She can hear its tiny little jaws begin to clamp down.

"What would you need of me?"

"I need your oath."

"No. I will not break my oath to Lolth."

"Oh? Is that toooo much to ask? Would you rather be a Mind Flayer? Because if you do, you will die and your soul will become useless to Her anyway. She will want nothing to do with you. Does She mean that much to you? That you'd sacrifice yourself for a goddess that will discard you without a second thought?"

"No. I do not want to become a Mind Flayer but She would never abandon me. I cannot betray my oath to Lolth. If I do so, I lose any leverage I have to get us both home."

"I have a home. In another city. With another god. There is nothing left for me down there. Not anymore." The drow looks away from Minthara. Her face begins to betray her words and the demeanor she is fighting to keep. This drow, whoever she is, is genuinely melancholic. She does want to go home, but she can't. And even if she could, she doesn't have a reason to.

"Then what do we do?"

The drow brings the tadpole up to Minthara's eye, tightly holding onto its tail. All she has to do is release it and it will crawl behind Minthara's eye and start its feast. From then, there will be a ticking clock until she turns into an eldritch abomination.

"I told you what to do. Either you willingly give me your oath, or I put this wriggly thing in your eye and I'll take it anyway. No matter what you choose, you are not going home. But you still have to choose."

An impossible choice. One in which the result is the same. Either she willingly forsakes Lolth, or she is forced to anyway. If she loses Lolth, she loses everything. Her house. Her home. But, right now, she doesn't have much of a choice. She is tied to the ground and literally staring down the possibility of becoming a Mind Flayer, a most certain death.

But she cannot give in to what this drow wants. She has to fight.

She closes her eyes and turns her head to the ground. "Queen of Spiders, I beseech -" Minthara gasps at the sudden shock of a slap to the side of her face. A sharp stinging, burning sensation eats at the soft tissue on her cheek.

"If you are going to speak, you speak to me. Not Her. She is not the one holding your fate in their hands right now. And your fate is dangling by a silk thread."

The drow could not be any more clear, Minthara has to choose. And that choice cannot be Lolth. Even if she loses her favor to the Spider Queen, that does not mean she could not earn it back one day. Every drow has a second chance before Lolth, especially Minthara. This drow and the Cult are enemies to Lolth and She will appreciate Minthara's attempts to destroy it in Her name. She must.

Right?

If she agrees to the impossible bargain, she should be able to retain some will and choice in the matter. With her will intact, she can move freely amongst the ranks and start dismantling it. And if she can get close to this drow, earn her trust, then she can do exactly what is expected and kill her.

But a new oath to a god she does not know? She does not like not knowing what she may be asked to do.

"Fine. I will... give you my oath." the moment those words escape her mouth, her chest begins to tighten with an excruciating pain.

"Hehehe, I'm not going to lie. I didn't actually think you'd agree. I for sure thought I would have to put a worm in your eye. But, an oath is all the same. You will be bound to this oath and I will hold you to the tenants of it. Failure to do so or risk becoming an oathbreaker, then I will put a worm in your eye. Or, I'll just kill you. It'll depend on how I feel that day and how much you've pissed me off. Do you understand?"

Minthara only nods her head. The pain in her chest makes it very difficult for her to speak. The vines around her begin to repeatedly tighten and relax, reminding her that the drow is very much in control of this situation.

“My allies and I have a lot of plans for the world with the Absolute. Your oath will remain the same, one of vengeance, but just to another god. Look at me.” Minthara feels a soft hand on the bottom of her chin. She looks up to the drow who’s eyes are filled with a gold aura. “Good. Your oath to Lolth is broken.” the drow whispers down to her in a soft and sympathetic tone, “You are free of Her. I understand your pain. The ache that is growing in your chest, knowing you betrayed the god you’ve devoted centuries of your life to. But I promise, this is better.”

“You know nothing of this pain.” Minthara growls to the drow.

“Oh, but I do. I very much do. Like you, I was also robbed of my choice. But, that is unimportant right now. Right now, I could use a paladin at my side. Traveling that road myself is… perilous… and lonely...”

Minthara looks down to the ground as the vines around her wrists and legs begin to recede back into the ground. Now is her chance! She could just jump up and kill the drow right now. But the ache in her chest grows stronger. She can feel a surge of darker and sinister energy rushing through her body and it is unpleasant. It is trying to overtake her, consume her, turn her into something she doesn’t want to be. A hot flash runs through her body and sweat begins to form on her brow as she fights it. And with her leg still severely wounded, she might not last long if there are other reinforcements in this colony that she cannot see. Her best option right now is to go along with the drow and do what she wants, buy herself time to find a better opportunity to kill this traitor.

But she herself might not find that opportunity. A rush of whispers begin to swirl around in her ears in the screeches of a thousand tiny spiders. Her skin begins to burn as the insects begin to bite at small bits of her flesh. She furiously begins to swat at her neck and her arms, trying to kill the spiders she cannot see.

“Ugh, that damn Spider Bitch. Is She biting you?” the drow flickers her hand in the air and grants Minthara a blessing to protect her from Lolth’s wrath. “Dammit, I’m going to have to protect you from Her as long as you’re with me, huh? That’s going to get very annoying.”

Why? I am going to kill her once I am in the right place to do so. Why do you not understand? I am doing all of this in your name, I will enact your will. Why have you forsaken me so quickly?

The drow reaches her hands underneath Minthara’s arms and helps her to her feet. She looks down to the drow, with fury behind her gaze. But the drow only laughs at her as she wraps her arm around Minthara’s shoulder and slowly begins to limp her away.

“I know you’re mad Minnie. But everything is going to work out. Like I said, this is for the best. With time, you will see that life is better without Lolth. Now, we need to get you back up top so you can rest and get that leg fixed. Then, we go to Baldur’s Gate. I have so many plans for you.”

Chapter 3: Lessons Learned

Chapter Text

Where did this curse come from? What is its purpose? So far, all it has done is destroy and corrupt. And if one does not have the adequate protection from it, they will find their souls ripped out of their bodies and distorted beyond recognition. It is a harrowing sight and a painful reality. The entire landscape has fallen deep into decay, as if it is drowning in despair and grief.

The window may be tiny, but it is large enough for Minthara to look out of as she stands before it. She is used to darkness and takes great comfort within it. But the Shadow Curse is nothing like she's ever seen before. It isn't like the Underdark. This curse, whatever it is, is so much darker. If it wasn't for the great threat that it was, she would gladly find respite within it if she were to ever find herself damned to live on the surface.

But, right now, she is locked in a room in Moonrise Tower and has not been permitted to leave. This is all a new experience for her. She has never been confined like this, as if she is some kind of prisoner. She paces in circles around the room with a slight limp in her step, putting weight onto the leg that hasn't fully healed just yet. She wants to get out and go back home. Warn the house matrons of the threat that is the Absolute and what may be coming for them. Potentially make an alliance with one of the other houses and form a proper army and stategize an assault.

Minthara curses to herself for underestimating the Absolute. Two missionaries walking around Menzoberranzan, demanding the worship for another god was obvious bait. And she fell for it. She fell for Ketheric's flattery and the ferocity of that drow. That damned drow! She orchestrated all of this. She made a fool of Minthara.

No, that's not quite right. This drow, Daedra, did what any other drow would do. She played the game of strategy, of politics. Menzoberranzan often likes to keep to itself, unconcerned with surface squabbles and conflicts. Members of the city only ever interact with the surface when the surface brings its problems below, or if someone is thirsty for the blood of a raid. And Minthara was a little blood thirsty. Let her pride blind her reason and prevented her from seeing the very obvious trap that she had walked herself into. The loss of her warriors, her mutilation, the throbbing wound in her leg, her entrapment in this damn tower, she deserves it all. She is the one who made a fool of herself.

There is a subtle, near playful knock on the door. Minthara does not respond, she does not need to. The person on the other side has no respect for her and does not care for her privacy or her comfort. Despite Minthara's lack of response, the door opens and Daedra walks in with a smug look on her face. Minthara only furrows her brow and pinches the corners of her lips, infuriated with this drows audacity.

Daedra closes the door behind her and leans against it, crossing her arms. "Oh? Not going to try to kill me today? Have you finally grown tired of it?"

Finally being able to stand, Minthara realizes for the first time just how much smaller Daedra is when compared to her. And yet, despite her less than imposing stature, Daedra has still managed to get the best of her. Not once, not twice, but five times. After the colony, Daedra followed on her word and brought Minthara up to the top of the tower to continue treatment. Every day, the drow would walk into the room, where Minthara would promptly jump her, attempting to end the drow's life with whatever makeshift weapon she created from the furniture in the room.

But Daedra is extremely quick, much quicker than the paladin has ever seen. She has used her small stature to her advantage to be able to slip and slide around easily. Her extreme dexterity gives her complete and free range of her joints, moving with an acute awareness of what each and every part of her body is doing. Even a seasoned warrior like Minthara can't catch her quickly. Each time she would think she has the drow in her grasp, she would easily slip out of it as if covered in grease. Free of her, Daedra would release a devastating flurry of attacks to very select spots on Minthara's body, with one of those spots being the wound on her leg. It is humiliating to be subdued so quickly. Even more humiliating that the drow is able to knock Minthara to the ground without needing to draw a weapon.

Minthara has grown tired of the humiliation. This shouldn't be so difficult for her. This drow should have died long ago, by her hand! But Daedra walks into this room every day already anticipating that Minthara would jump her. And every time Minthara would writhe on the ground, reeling from the new bruises, suffering the added shame of Daedra putting her healing hands on her body. Even though the wound on her leg has improved thanks to the clerics healing, Minthara is confident that she will have a permanent limp as Daedra acknowledges it as a weakness. A weakness that has only grown because Minthara won't stop trying to kill the drow.

And so, Minthara has stopped. Catching this drow off guard is going to be impossible as her guard is always up and Minthara is only wasting her energy. Daedra is very much a daughter of Menzoberranzan and lives in constant paranoia and anticipation of being killed at any second. Especially in the presence of another drow. Minthara is going to have to be a bit more cunning if she intends to kill her.

"Sit down, Minnie." Daedra steps away from the door and points to the bed.

"Minthara." she says over to the cleric with a stern rasp in her voice. If she is going to be spoken to, it will be with her name.

"Minnie."

"Minthara!"

"Minnie!"

Minthara's hands begin to shake as she is once again flooded with the desire to wrap them around Daedra's throat. It is despicable to be treated with such flagrant disrespect. It is abhorrent that it is quite clear that Minthara is not in any control of her situation. For her own survival, she has to go along with whatever this drow wants. Daedra is able to easily throw Minthara to the ground without the intent of killing her. And, right now, Minthara has serious doubts on her ability to handle the drow if she ever did decide to return Minthara's murderous intent.

She swallows her pride with an intense ache in her chest and sits down on the edge of the bed. The drow nods her head, pleased that Minthara is obeying her commands. Normally, Minthara would take great pleasure on someone getting on their knees for her. But the power dynamic of this situation is shifted in a direction that she is not accustomed to. Even though Daedra is on her knees with her hands wrapped around Minthara's leg, she is the one in full control and has all the power.

Minthara closes her eyes as the healing magic works through her. There is a wave of relief within her as her bruises from yesterdays fight begin to dissipate and the hole in her leg closes even more. The drow carefully lifts up Minthara's leg and unwraps the medical wrapping. Minthara flexes her muscles to contain the pain of Daedra squeezing tightly around her leg, assessing the damage.

"How painful is it when you stand up? On a scale of one to ten, with one being the least painful." the drow asks as she reaches into her pack for medical supplies.

"Three." Minthara does not want to speak to this drow anymore than she really has to. But she will not deny that Daedra is useful at the moment in healing her leg.

"Well, it is good that you can stand at all. And the pain is going down. The hole itself is nearly closed. One last round of antiseptics should do." Minthara pinches her eyes tighter and grinds her teeth as there is a sharp pain spiking from her leg in response to the drow rubbing ointment within the hole.

Minthara opens her eyes, but keeps them in a tight squint as the drow stands up. Normally, at this stage, a fresher set of medical wraps would be wrapped around her leg. But Daedra seems to have other plans. She reaches into her pack and throws Minthara's armor onto the side of the bed, as well as the medical wraps.

"When you undress, be sure to wrap up your leg to keep everything contained. The wound isn't bleeding anymore and it appears that you're able to move around just fine. Once you do all that and get dressed, meet me downstairs. We're going on a field trip." Daedra walks away from the bed and out of the room, closing the door behind her. There is just the tiniest sliver of hope when there is an apparent lack of the sound of a lock. The door is open for Minthara to just... leave.

Minthara removes the dirty and filthy rags that act as a sh*t excuse for clothing and throws them into a corner. She does as advised and takes the medical wraps and tightly wraps them around her leg. She leans over and lifts her non injured leg, testing the one that is. It is now able to hold the entirety of her body weight again with only minimal pain. It isn't painless, but she can move much more freely now. Minthara quickly and carefully dresses into her Spider Silk armor that has recently been cleaned and polished. Despite being an enemy of Lolth, Daedra did take good care of Minthara's armor that bears the symbols of the Spider Queen.

She walks over to the door and grabs onto the handle, but falters. The door is indeed open. She can leave. However, the presence that was missing on the day she arrived at the tower, suddenly appeared as Daedra escorted her to the top of it. Moonrise is now full of the army that she was expecting to be here on day one. And they know her face, they know her name. They think of her as a 'guest' to Lady Daedra. If she attempts to deviate from Daedra's instructions, they will surely put in the effort to put Minthara back on course.

She has stared out of that tiny window long enough to know that there are armed guards patrolling the surroundings of the tower. She won't be able to sneak out either without being caught. It does not help that she has no weapons as Daedra had confiscated them when she dragged Minthara's unconscious body to the colony below. Her only chance to escape will be during whatever this "field trip" is.

Walking down the stairs is much more painful and cumbersome than she had initially thought it would be. The hole in her leg may be nearly healed, but each step downward sends a jolt of electricity through the muscle in her thigh. She continues down the spiral and walks back into the room in which she sat as an honored guest at a feast. Now, it has been turned into some kind of throne room. Paladins and knights are scattered around each and every exit, wearing the robes of the Absolute. Pacing in front of the throne is a half-orc with a scar over one of her eyes, reading a tablet containing a briefing left behind by General Thorm.

She looks up over to Minthara and raises an eyebrow, "So, you must be the one that our Lady has been giving special attention to." the half-orcs one good eyes glances up and down Minthara's body, "A real pity it is. I've always been curious as to what she would taste like. Now it seems I have competition. She's just out those doors. I would not keep her waiting for long. She has a nasty habit of cutting off the fingers of people who make her grow impatient. And she is not a patient person."

The half-orc returns her attention to the tablet as her finger points to the doors of the audience hall. Minthara takes a deep breath and releases it, moving towards the door. As she walks into the foyer, she looks around but she doesn't see the drow. At least, not the drow she was expecting. One of the guards on the outside of the audience hall, adorned in the robes of the Absolute, appears to be a drow as well. But, she wasn't one Minthara brought up along with her from the Underdark. She must have joined of her own accord at some other point. How long has the Absolute been around exactly?

There is a gaggle of people off to the side, wearing rags and dirty clothing. They speak of excitement to finally be at Moonrise after a long journey, excited to be welcomed as fresh recruits. And on the other side of the room is a pair of goblins, with one of them being a hobgoblin. Amongst them is a tiny horde of other goblins, awaiting further commands.

Looking to the front, she finally sees the drow she has been looking for, leaning against the wide door frame wearing the same long black coat she was wearing at the feast, along with a bow and quiver strapped to her back. Minthara approaches her from behind as Daedra's attention is out to the Shadow Curse. Minthara tries to follow her gaze, but she squints her eyes to the near blinding light of the lanterns just outside the tower. Whatever fuels these lanterns, it is powerful enough to keep the Shadow Curse at bay. But the lanterns only dot the perimeter of the tower.

"Good, you made it." Daedra says turning her attention to Minthara, the flames of her eyes burning through her soul. "Yeah, the Moon Lanterns are too bright. I hate them too. But, they're the only way we've been able to keep Moonrise as a base of operations."

Minthara keeps looking forward, down the bridge. If she can just get far enough away from Moonrise, out of the sight of the rest of the Absolute personnel, she can make a break for it. Daedra is extraordinarily quick. But quick people can only be so quick for so long. Minthara is also much taller than Daedra and will be able to cover more distance than the little cleric ever can in the same period of time. Even if Daedra catches up to her, Minthara will be able to outrun her.

"Are you ready to go?" Daedra steps away from the door and looks over Minthara.

"I do not have a weapon to protect myself from any threats."

"Ha! Right. Considering how many times you've tried to kill me these past few days, I would be stupid to give you a weapon right now. If we're in danger, I will protect us. So, you better keep yourself in check. The shadows out there are hungry and I'm not afraid to leave you to die."

Minthara rolls her eyes as she concedes to Daedra's point. If she was in the clerics position, she too would make the same exact decision. If Minthara was given a weapon, she would not hesitate to use it to kill Daedra. She begrudgingly marches behind Daedra as she walks down the steps and across the bridge from Moonrise.

The light of the lanterns grow dim as they reach the other side of the bridge into what used to be a populated town. Buildings have been left destroyed and decayed by the curse. Corrupted plants and trees sprout from the ground, twisting in a manner that should be unnatural. Cancerous bulbs sprout from the sides of them, pulsing with the shadow of the curse. There is a deep, low groan amongst the wind. This is a horrible and desolate place to be.

Minthara cranes her neck around, she can no longer see the guards standing outside Moonrise. That means they can no longer see her. She looks forward and down to the drow who walks in front of her. Killing her would be a waste of energy right now, especially since Daedra has proven to not be an easy target to take down. Minthara looks around her and sees a clear corridor through one of the buildings that leads further into the landscape. Now is her chance!

Pain shoots up her leg to her spine as she runs fast as she can through the town and into the building. She briefly recognizes the building from when she first arrived here. Following through it and to the other side, she should be able to trace her own steps and return back to the Underdark.

But something is different this time. Last time, she was lured up here. Someone wanted her to come to Moonrise. Daedra wanted her to come to Moonrise. And this time, Daedra has not given Minthara permission to leave.

Minthara trips and collapses to the ground as a dark and malicious energy grabs a hold of her essence. Slowly, each cell of her body begins to decay and die as the Shadow Curse grips her, desperate to consume her. She tries to crawl onto the ground, but it feels like her nails are about ready to separate from their nail beds. She is going to die here, in some random buildings on the surface, and no one back home will know what happened to her.

She curls into a ball and desperately tries to breath, but her lungs have stalled as the curse works its way down her throat. She is drowning on something that isn't even a liquid. Her eyesight begins to pulse in and out of darkness.

Before she blacks out, the pain suddenly stops. She begins to cough as the curse recedes out of her throat and refills with proper air. She crawls up to her hands and knees taking deep and heavy breaths, ignoring the splitting pain in her head as she came too close to unconsciousness. Her leg begins to heavily shake from the pain that is running through it. It may have been ready to handle her weight and allow her to walk around, but she was not ready to run yet.

She grits her teeth to the sight of Daedra crouching next to her out of the corner of her eye. Minthara refuses to look up as she already knows the exact face the drow is making.

"Unlike all the other bozos in that damn tower, I managed to make friends with a pixie. And that pixie has given me the special protection to walk around freely through the curse without the need to carry around one of those blinding lanterns. And, I can extend that protection to whomever I want. But, the protection has a... proximity to it. And your dumb ass just tried to run out of it."

Minthara turns her head and growls as Daedra puts a hand on her back and leans her face in very close. "Continue to run or try to kill me, and you will lose the protection. Your body will be left to wander around the surface, aimlessly as a zombie, as your soul would have been excruciatingly ripped out of your pathetic corpse and sent to the Shadow Fell to screech in agony for all eternity. So, what would you like to do? Do you want to f*cking die? Or are you going to do what I tell you?"

Minthara's body continues to shudder as each cell still aches from the pain it just endured from being eaten alive by the Shadow Curse. She refuses to answer the drows inquisition. But Daedra does not have a lot of patience. She tightly grabs the back of Minthara's hair and pulls her head up, forcing Minthara to look at her.

"I am not asking you a rhetorical question. I am expecting you to answer me. Do you want to f*cking die?" the blood in her eyes flicker with the heat of rage as they burn into Minthara's eyes.

"No!"

"Good." Daedra throws Minthara's head back down. Luckily, Minthara is able to catch herself before it hits the ground. "I don't want you to die either. But you're really starting to piss me off." Minthara slams her head against the ground anyway as she is once again forced to concede to this damn drow. Daedra isn't blind to the discomfort she is experiencing. Minthara can already feel Daedra's healing hands touching her back, aiding the pain that is relentlessly pulsing in her leg and throughout her body. How humiliating.

Minthara's breath has grown rather heavy from the long and painful hike from the desolate town to what appears to be a graveyard. Her mind begins to worry, considering whether or not Daedra has decided to kill her and has brought Minthara to her final resting place.

Ahead of her is a large mausoleum with a door that looks like something massive forced its way through. Surrounding the outside are skeletons and corpses wearing dark armor adorned with the symbols of Shar. Minthara flicks her eyebrow. Darkness is Shar's entire ordeal and Daedra did mention the Shadow Fell. But, what business does Shar have with cursing an entire land such as this? Who managed to anger the Nightsinger this badly?

The inside of the Mausoleum is littered with just as many corpses. In the distance in one of the isolated rooms, there is a heaping pile of bones. Almost as if someone wanted them all to be nearby. A necromancer perhaps? The next room contains a curious site, a coffin that has been opened up. Minthara glances inside, but there is no body. Did someone just get up and walk away? Or was it taken?

Daedra begins to walk around the room and begins to press some buttons that have been carefully placed under paintings in the stone. Minthara walks closer to one of the paintings and inspects it. It depicts Moonrise Tower during the height of its glory, with the moon shining bright behind it. Given that these lands may be cursed by Shar, safe to say that Moonrise may have been a pillar built in honor of Selune, the Moon goddess and Shar's other half. Despite the cracks of the stone and the spider webs that decorate it, the paint itself has withstood the test of time and are still as vibrant as ever.

Minthara turns around to the sound of stone moving. Appears that there was a hidden doorway in the room. All Daedra does is stand in place next to the doorway and flicks her head towards it, signaling for Minthara to walk through it. She grimaces to herself as she walks forward through the room and into the hidden passageway.

If she was still in Menzoberranzan, Minthara would have gladly followed the words and orders of a Priestess such as Daedra. She would have been Lolth's voice and Lolth's word. Minthara would have been obligated as a paladin to enforce the word of a Priestess as she would be enforcing the word of Lolth. And she would have been honored to do so. But Daedra is nothing but a traitor and a blasphemer in the eyes of Lolth. One who has made a blasphemer of Minthara as well. As far as she is concerned, she is not obligated to follow a damn word that comes out of Daedra's mouth. She hates that she has to for the sake of her own life.

She walks into another room with braziers already lit with a purple flame. There are more skeleton piles of course. But Minthara's gaze is taken by a broken and crumbling statue of Shar.

Why is any of this even here? How does Daedra know of this? Is this Daedra's new god? Shar? She does not seem to be Sharran...

Daedra stands next to Minthara and points forward. "Stand on that platform right there, and hit that button. Once you do, the platform will move down to the lower level. Once down there, hit the button again and return to me."

"Why? Why go down just to come back up?"

"Because I said so."

Minthara closes her eyes. For whatever reason, the Shadow Curse has not followed them inside the mausoleum. Most likely due to its connection to Shar. Another opportunity?

"What, not coming with? Are you not worried that I will try to run again once I reach the lower level?" Minthara crooks a smile on her face.

Daedra only laughs at her. "You know what, you're welcome to try, princess! I would actually be curious to see how far you get. But, I'm willing to bet that once you do get down there, you're going to want to come back up to me."

"We shall see." Minthara steps onto the platform, excited at the possibility that Daedra may have unintentionally given her the chance to slip away and into freedom. She is nervous as to whatever threat may face her down below, especially considering that she has no weapons. But, right now, she would rather die than continue being humiliated by this damn drow. Minthara presses her foot against the button and the platform jolts. She turns her head around to see another smug ass smile on Daedra's face as the platform begins to descend.

Very quickly, Minthara is enveloped in darkness and the only light available is the purple from the platform itself. She takes a deep sigh of relief, finally being away from Daedra. Whatever this place is, it has some kind of connection to Shar. But, all the Sharrans seem to have died out. Most likely, she is just walking into a tomb. Will there be a way out of it?

Minthara quickly and violently brings her hand up and slaps her neck as she feels the bite of a spider. Then she feels another spider on the other side of her neck, and she slaps at it too. And then another bite on her leg, and then another bite on her back, and her arm.

This isn't her imagination. She's been infested with spiders and they are beginning to devour her! She slaps at her arms, her face, her legs, there are just too many of them! She can feel them crawl through the cracks in her armor and bite her in places she cannot reach. She begins to hyperventilate and panic as she cannot slap at the spiders fast enough. Her skin begins to burn and sting as tiny pieces of it are munched away by the spiders.

She collapses to the ground and begins to roll around, hoping that her body weight will be able to crush some of them. But there are just too many! There are hundreds of spiders crawling all over her, and she only has so many hands. Her chest begins to ache and the pain returns into her leg as she tenses up every muscle in her body. She lets out a guttural scream as she begins to feel her internal organs being eaten away at as well. She is being devoured both on the inside and the outside.

Her entire body jolts as the platform comes to a sudden stop. She opens her eyes to look down a bright and purple hallway. She could run right now. But, she is loathe to admit that Daedra was right. She wants to go back up. She crawls over to the button once more and slams her hand against it, and the platform begins to ascend again.

She curls into a ball, trying to withstand the pain and the torment until she can get to the top. In a few places, she can feel the licks of a warm liquid crawling on her skin as the venom dissolves her flesh. She does not know how much longer she can hold out from their wrath.

At some point during the ascent, she must have crossed through some kind of barrier. She takes a huge sigh of relief as the spiders stop biting her skin and begin to crawl off her body and back into the darkness below the platform. The spiders may be gone, but they still leave her behind with intense pain all around her body. She tries to take slower and methodical breaths, but it does not work. Her skin is searing and it feels that her insides are set to burst.

There is another jolt as the platform comes to another stop. Minthara lays against it, shivering as pain still thunders through her body. There wasn't a single inch of her that was left untouched by the spiders. Tears begin to escape her eyes as she listens to Daedra's heavy footsteps onto the platform.

"Look at you. Sniveling and whimpering like a little bitch."

Minthara yelps out as Daedra grabs onto her wrist and drags her off the platform and back onto the decorated stone. Daedra sits on the floor in front of Minthara and just watches her and she writhes in pain. But there is no enjoyment in her face. No mockery, no amusem*nt, no smugness. Just the look of someone who knows exactly what Minthara is experiencing, as she has experienced it all before herself.

"There has been a bit of a disconnect between you and I. Despite your broken oath, you are still loyal to Lolth. But She is no longer loyal to you. No, She never was loyal to you. I will not pretend that I gave you a fair choice. I did force your hand, and you made the smart choice. You chose to survive. But Lolth hates it when we choose ourselves over Her. Do you see that now?"

Minthara closes her eyes and brings her hands over the back of her head as her body recedes into itself. The pain has not subsided and there are still echoes of spiders crawling on her. She can hear her heartbeat crashing inside her skull and her leg feels almost numb from the overwhelming amount of pain. Her chest feels like it is going to be ripped apart.

"How much of your life did you dedicate just to Her? Between clerical school and then becoming Her paladin. Hm? How many people did you kill in Her name? And how much more would you have been expected to do if you rose in your House? Centuries of your life in loyal devotion rendered meaningless because you chose yourself for once. Lolth is hate. Lolth is spite. Lolth is vindictiveness. She only rewards devotion with torment and death. That is what She has always expected of us, to die for Her amusem*nt and consumption. She is not a god worth worshiping. You do see that now, right? Look at you. Seriously. Look at your hands."

Minthara opens her eyes and looks at her shaking hands and arms. There are red spots all over them, and some places are indeed bleeding from where the spiders had ripped away at her flesh. Minthara cannot deny it nor can she pretend to remain in her own disbelief. Daedra is right. Lolth tried to devour her for a mistake that wasn't her fault.

Minthara's body flinches to the feeling of Daedra's hand on her shoulder. She closes her eyes and cranes her head away from the drow, expecting further torment. But the hand itself is soft and warm. A cool wave reverberates up and down her body, like cold water extinguishing a raging fire. She peaks open one eye to see the blue light dance around her skin, closing up the wounds left behind by Lolth's army. Her eyes turn over to the drow.

"I wish I didn't have to do it this way, but you just weren't getting it through your thick head. Not that I blame you... I had to feel something extremely similar to get it through mine as well. I too was forced into an impossible choice and I chose to survive. I chose to make the best of my situation. Did Lolth give a sh*t about my circ*mstances? No. She threw me away and then tried to devour me, even though I couldn't obey Her any longer."

"You said... you... had another god..." Minthara whimpers out as she still shivers on the ground. A feeling of appreciation begins to mix with resentment as she watches Daedra moving her hands around Minthara's body, healing each and every injury left behind.

"I do."

"And are they better than Lolth?"

"Not by a longshot."

f*cking hypocrite!

"Then why do you follow them if they are the same as Lolth?" Minthara looks into the drow's eyes. There is no happiness. There is no enjoyment. Only despair.

"Like Lolth, I was forced to serve him just to survive. But unlike Lollth, there is no escaping him. At least Lolth sticks to the Underdark. But there is nowhere I can run to get away from him. I do not serve him willingly nor do I worship him. I do his bidding because I don't have a choice. Like you, I just want to survive."

Minthara tries to laugh through her pain. "And you want me to swear an oath to this god?"

"Your oath will be to another entity, but it won't be him. Heh, I have to make sure you make an oath you won't break. There is only so much I am willing to tell you as I'm still not sure how much I can trust you yet. But, in time, maybe I will spill out my evil bad guy plan to you in an over the top and dramatic soliloquy. Now, let's get back to Moonrise."

Minthara does not fight the drow as she wraps her arms around her and helps the paladin to her feet. Minthara wants to hate her, but her animosity is directed elsewhere. In the days she spent locked in that tower, she felt alone. So utterly alone. Prayer after prayer went unanswered and there was nothing but silence. Traveling down on that platform made it abundantly clear that not only is Lolth angry with her, but Lolth has abandoned her.

There are no gods left to her. She cannot return to the Underdark. She has nothing. Except for whatever plan Daedra has in mind for her. Her eyes glance to her side and looks over the features on the drows face. For the first time in days, Minthara does not want to kill her. At least, not today.

Chapter 4: Mutual Understanding

Chapter Text

In the days they have been traveling together, Minthara has spent a significant amount of time observing Daedra. Trying to learn all the things that make her tick. There is something about her that is so unlike any other drow: she sleeps. She does not trance or go into a meditative state. She full on sleeps. And Minthara finds this to be disturbing as she does not know why the cleric does this. Daedra does not appear to have any injuries or is in a state that requires sleep. So, why would she choose to sleep?

Sleep is so much deeper than a trance. Unlike Daedra, Minthara still has a sense of awareness of what is happening around her when she trances. She is able to snap to attention very quickly if she were to sense any danger around her while she trances. But sleeping? Daedra would be too unconscious to be aware of any threats.

And today is no different. Minthara reaches into her pack and pulls out her dagger. Over the course of these past few days, a rage has been slowly festering inside her. And Daedra tried to direct that rage to Lolth. Who the f*ck does she think she is? Lolth is the goddess who has given Minthara a purpose and is not deserving of any wrath. But Daedra is. And she is mistaken to believe that the paladin would truly harbor any animosity towards the Spider Queen for long. Even if out of favor, if she can just abscond with Daedra's head, it should be enough to gain Minthara passage back to the Underdark.

There comes the second obstacle, how to get back to the Underdark. Minthara has only spent a few times on the surface from previous raids. There is always an entrance to the Underdark somewhere. Unfortunately, she cannot go backwards into the Shadow Lands. Someone in Baldur's Gate may have some trade secrets. The Zhent smugglers generally tend to send caravans down to those shadowed caverns. Perhaps she can hitch a ride with one of them.

She slowly stalks over to the cleric. She sweeps her leg out and steps over Daedra's body and looks down for just a brief moment. She ponders just how differently her life could have been if she never met this drow, or maybe met her under different circ*mstances.

What if someone else had arrived at Moonrise? Would she have stood the same chance? Gotten out of of her predicament and conquered the tower? Or would she still have been tortured? Or worse? What if her sister was successful in trying to kill the drow? Or what if her sister had done to Daedra what Daedra did to her?

Oh, the possibilities one can think of when deep in ruminations. But those are just one of many threads detailing a different life, meant to be told in a different story.

She pulls her arm back, preparing to plunge the dagger into Daedra's back, but she hesitates. Would Daedra's head truly be enough to reinstate her favor with Lolth? What would her mother think of her, returning home alone, defeated and humiliated? She could of course tell them about the Absolute, but what proof does she have that they are the threat she claims they are? An undead war general and a psychopathic drow won't be enough to mobilize her house or any of the others. And Daedra's head would not be enough evidence to her mother as, for all she would know, it's just the head of a random drow.

She pulls back her knife and steps away from Daedra. She walks back to the edge of their camp and leans her back against a tree, sliding down to sit. She brings her knees to her chest, and rests her head in her arms as she wraps them around her knees. The searing pain in her eyes begins to dissipate as she shrouds them from the evening sun. Despite her short time there, she almost misses the Shadow Curse for it had blocked out the sun. Minthara nearly envies Daedra's ability to be able to fall asleep through this level of discomfort.

She looks out into the distance into the nearby forest they made camp by. She could run away right now if she wanted to. Even if Daedra were to wake, she won't be able to come to speed fast enough to catch Minthara. But, a part of her hesitates. The thought of running causes a shiver to branch from her spine. The echoes of the Shadow Curse still remain fresh in her mind, suffocating her from the inside out. And Daedra allowed her to suffocate just to prove a point.

Even when she tried to run in the Mind Flayer colony, Daedra was able to summon thorns to wrap around her legs. Daedra does not need to run after her, she has methods of being able to stop Minthara in her tracks. And who knows what else the cleric is capable of. Running and fighting are futile efforts and Daedra will not make it easy. Minthara may not be tied up, but she most certainly is a captive.

Daedra is smart and resourceful. Minthara will need to be just the same if she intends to make it through this alive and with as little injury as possible.

As the sun begins to fall behind the horizon, Daedra finally wakes and the two drow continue down the road to Baldur's Gate. Thankfully, the pain in Minthara's eyes has subsided as the light from the sun begins to fade as night approaches. With the light minimizing, Minthara does not need to keep her head facing the ground and Daedra has removed her hood from her head, allowing her white wavy hair to bounce against her back with each step she takes.

She looks forward to the cleric before her. Not particularly wise for her to have her back turned away from Minthara. Especially now that Minthara does have her weapons back. She could just take them out right now, bash them against the clerics skull with a burning smite. But, there is a reason as to why Daedra did give Minthara her maces back. And it isn't because she trusts the paladin, but because she knows she won't lose in a fight.

"Look, up there." Daedra says, pointing her finger further ahead down the road. "A little village. We can probably stop there and get some supplies for the final stretch."

Minthara follows the tip of Daedra's finger and sees a rather small and quaint village not too far down the road. As they approach, she surveys the surroundings. Despite the setting sun, it still manages to be rather lively. The clank of a hammer striking an anvil as the blacksmith molds a new sword. The screams and laughter of children running around playing games with each other. The mindless chatter of the denizens as they stand outside their houses.

If Minthara still had all her warriors, this village would be an easy target for a raid. There do not seem to be many fighters around and many of the residents don't seem like they would be able to put up much of a fight. There are no defenses around the perimeter of the village itself so they are not expecting any danger. And thus, if danger were to come for them, they may not know how to actually fight back.

Despite being an easy target, this village may not be worth raiding. Everyone here is wearing rags that have all been ripped up and have holes torn in them. The buildings and houses don't have the best craftsmanship and appear that they could be blown away with a strong wind. And there is a disgusting hint of feculence in the air from all the livestock. Everything suggests that this village may not have a lot of wealth available to abscond with. An easy target, but not a worthwhile one.

Daedra turns into a building that has a sign with a tankard hanging off of it. Minthara follows behind where she is immediately inundated with noise. Nearly every table and chair inside is occupied with a patron who has some drink in their hand. As Daedra approaches the bar, Minthara can feel all the eyes on her right now. Telling her she is not welcome. Telling her she is a monster. Telling her that she is evil. They are all terrified of her, and Daedra. All as they should be. They have no idea how lucky they are that Minthara currently has no intentions of setting everything on fire. But, that could all change.

Daedra hops into a stool at the bar and begins to tap her fingers against it, waiting for the bartender to acknowledge her. Minthara stands behind her, looking around at everyone. Every single patron that she makes eye contact with quickly averts their gaze and returns to their business.

"What can I - uh, uhm..." the bartender begins, but stutters while looking at the two drow in front of her. "Please, we have children here. We'll give you what you want, but please, don't hurt us." she whimpers to Daedra.

"Oh? Interested in a little role play, are we? Well-" Daedra puts her hands on the bar and slowly leans up in the stool, crawling closer to the bartender, "-if you're so interested in playing the role of a f*cking victim, I have no problem being the villain of your story and singular point of trauma. But, alas, I'm just looking for a drink as my paladin and I are very thirsty." Daedra slumps back into the stool. Minthara balls her hands into fists, channeling her divinity as some of the patrons turn more attention to Daedra, ready for anything. These villagers may not be properly trained in fighting, but enough of them can easily swarm her and Daedra if they insist on a fight.

"I see. Well, wh-what can I get you two to drink?" the bartender asks in a low, terrified voice. All it takes is one wrong word in the wrong tone, and her village is set ablaze and she'll be left to watch.

"Surprise us. And, make sure it's cold." the bartender nods and walks to the otherside of the bar, preparing the drow a drink. Daedra spins around in the stool and looks at Minthara. She reaches her hand out and insistently taps on the neighboring barstool, encouraging Minthara to sit next to her. Minthara would remain standing if Daedra wasn't so annoying about it.

Minthara exhales as she slams herself down into the stool, being sure to express her displeasure of being in Daedra's presence. She leans her elbow on the bar and continues to look around as all the eyes still watch her closely. A few of the patrons do stand up and leave the bar, glaring behind their shoulders at the two drow. The patrons left in this bar clearly do outnumber her and Daedra. Minthara could probably take half of them herself, but she could quickly get overwhelmed. But Daedra did manage to kill a small army of her strongest warriors in one quick movement. It may not be too far of a stretch to assume that the two of them alone could fight their way out of a fight if one were to occur.

"Are you having fun yet?" Daedra chirps at her.

"No." Minthara responds sternly and twisting her face into a scowl, refusing to look at the cleric.

"Booooo. Don't worry. A lot of fun awaits us in the city. You'll see."

The bartender returns back to the drow and slides two pitchers of beer on the counter. She lists out the price of the drinks. Daedra reaches back and pulls out her coin purse and grabs some gold pieces. She extends her hand over to the bartender who holds up her hand, "On the bar! Please..." she says with a panicked voice. With a crooked smile on her face, Daedra slaps her hand into the barkeepers, and holds it tightly as she delivers the gold. The bartender rolls her lips, tears squeezing out of her eyes as the drow continues to hold onto her hand. The bartender quickly scurries away as Daedra slips her hand away, leaving the gold behind.

The cleric chuckles with a mocking tone, "Such a puss*." Daedra grabs onto the handle of the pitcher and brings it up to her face, smelling the contents inside. A smile threatens its way onto Minthara's face at the potential of the drink being poisoned. But Daedra takes a drink of it anyway. The cleric can see the hint of the smile on Minthara's face.

"What? Hoping the beer was poisoned?"

Minthara laughs at her, "Why would I not? I am astonished that you did not hesitate to drink it given the possibility."

"Well, it's not."

"And how are you so sure?"

"Because I used to be a servant of Lolth, remember?. I've learned quite well how to detect various poisons, as I'm sure you would have learned as well, Baenre. And what is in this cup is nothing but beer. And, well, look around this sh*t hole." Daedra waves her hand to all the patrons in the bar. "You really think any of them would be smart enough to poison anyone? Now take a damn drink, Minnie. I know you're thirsty."

Minthara looks down to the tankard in front of her and considers Daedra's judgment. From Minthara's analysis of the cleric, Daedra would not do anything if she thinks it would be a real danger to herself. And, as a cleric, she would have phenomenal capabilities to detect poison. Especially as one formerly sworn to Lolth. Minthara grabs the tankard and brings it to her lips, taking a drink of it. The taste is rather bland, but the chill of it is pleasant and will be enough to quench her thirst.

She looks at the drow over the lip of the tankard. This woman is just so damn full of herself. Walking around as if she is untouchable. Perhaps she is, given how many times she has thrown Minthara to the ground. But why? Why does she feel this way? How is she so sure that she is able to overcome any threat? She has a bow on her back, but appears to have an affinity for her daggers and close combat. The only thing Minthara has yet to see from the cleric is the potency of her magic. Considering she made it as high up in Menzoberranzan society to become a Priestess, her magic would not be weak by any means.

But, even a Priestess would show more caution and restraint than Daedra does. No, she has something else up her sleeve to provide her with the intense confidence that she is the biggest danger in every room she walks in.

"Daedra?" Minthara sets the tankard back on the bar.

"Hm?" the cleric squeaks back to her, staring off ahead to the wall in front of her.

"You were a former Priestess of Lolth. A powerful and influential figure, one who would have had higher influence than I. Why did you walk away from it all?"

"I didn't walk away. I was pulled."

"What happened?" Minthara asks, but Daedra does not answer. The cleric brings the tankard back up to her lips and continues to gulp her drink.

"Stuff."

As the two continue their drinks in silence, they are approached by an older man. Minthara instinctively reaches her hand back to the hilt of her mace on her back. Daedra cranes her neck around to look at the threat Minthara has detected.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but you two look like the proper adventuring type with your maces and armor about you, eh. If it is no trouble, may I ask your assistance in a matter of importance?"

"Speak." Daedra swivels around in the stool, leaning her back against the bar and looking at the man.

"Thank you. Well, for the past few weeks, we've had a string of villagers go missing. Sometimes, we are able to recover a body, usually by the woods. But, we often don't find a body and the villagers are still missing. And the bodies that we do recover are left in such poor condition. I... I don't think I have the stomach to describe them. Do you think you can assist with dealing with this monster for us?"

Daedra sighs and closes her eyes, ticking her head back and forth in contemplative thought. "How much?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How much do your people matter to you?" Daedra keeps her head leaned back while looking down to the man. "Monster hunting is fun! I love killing things! But it isn't safe and we are not cheap, especially since we have other matters that are much more important than you and this sh*t hole. So, how much?"

"Well, I - I suppose you can stay here in this inn free of charge. Well, more I will cover your costs. Any food, drink, or supplies you need, I will happily front the bill."

"Hm, we do need supplies... but coin is better. How about a thousand on top of that, and we have a deal."

"Why, that's a steep price."

"And we are expensive."

"Of course! I'll gather what I can and get the rest from the other villagers! It'll be no problem!" the man turns to walk away."

"Ah ah!" Daedra calls out behind him. "Half up front now."

"Now?"

"Mhm. Think of it as an insurance for both parties. Invested interest."

The man pulls out a coin purse, wiping his brow of some sweat that had formed on it. He hands the purse over to Daedra, who carefully inspects the contents. "It's not quite half, but give me an hour. I will get you the coin. Please, just save my village."

"You have my word." Daedra says with a flick of a smile on her face. The man turns out of the building to gather the rest of the coin he promised.

Minthara looks to the drow, confused by her intentions. "You do not seriously intend on us hunting a monster do you? These serfs are not worth us expending a single ounce of our energy."

Daedra laughs, "f*ck no! I'm not going to risk my life for these nasket alkme. I just want free money. Gaaah, these people here are f*cking stupid." the cleric takes another sip of her beer after placing the coin purse in her pack. Minthara struggles to not appreciate Daedra's actions. Taking advantage of an old man's desperation for personal gain. Classic.

Daedra finishes her drink and slams it on the bar, "Now. Let's to find that old man and get our money before bouncing out of town." Daedra hops out of the stool and heads towards the door.

As the two drow walk out of the inn, they are greeted by a small gathering that has formed just outside. In front of them is a young man in a full plate of armor and a great sword strapped to his back. With light red eyes, black curly hair, and light gray skin. Minthara sneers her lip to the sight of the half-drow. She looks past him, and counts seven other villagers behind him, all holding blunt swords in their hands. Considering this half-drow is the only one in armor, he more than likely is the only proper fighter available.

"A few of my villagers have come to me, telling me about a disturbance caused by a few drow." he says with a protective look of anger on his face, his eyes bouncing between the two of them.

Daedra puts a hand on her chest, gasping in fake astonishment, "Disturbance? Why, I would never! I just wanted to get a drink for me and my paladin here."

"Paladin?" his eyes look up to Minthara. "Then from one paladin to another, you must understand why I stand before you now. I just want to protect my people from harm. And I know your people's ways."

Minthara chuckles to him, "My people as well as yours hail from the same place, darthiir. You claim you want to protect, and yet we were the ones asked to protect this village from the monster you are clearly too inept to fight yourself."

"Watch yourself, drow. You are not my people and I am nothing like you." he growls up to her, "You are in my home. You do not get to speak that way to me. I suggest you both leave."

"Oh, but we just got here." Daedra whines to the man. "Can't we all just play nice?"

"I do not want you in my village around my people. If you will not leave by choice, I will make you leave, personally."

"Oh, will you now?" Daedra leans over, taunting the man. Minthara watches closely as Daedra slips her hands in the back of her coat. Minthara adjusts her stance as it is clear Daedra is reaching for her daggers, preparing to start a fight. "Well, go on then, half-breed." Daedra growls, "Make me."

"With pleasure!" Before the man can pull his sword, his throat is very quickly opened up as Daedra cuts with a slice so fast it is nearly imperceptible. The crowd slowly backs away as the paladin falls to the ground, blood leaking out of his throat like a fountain. He twists on the ground struggling to breath as his own blood slowly fills the lungs that are meant for air only.

Minthara pulls her maces as Daedra pulls her daggers, stretching her arms out. The cleric throws her head back and takes a deep breath, smelling the air around her, "Aaahhhhh!" she groans out, "The smell of blood is just so sweet." she looks back to the villagers, dropping her voice an octave, "Don't you think?" the flames behind her eyes heats up.

"Damn Underelves!" one of the villagers works up a sense of courage and begins to run towards them. Minthara lunges past the cleric and swings her mace out, bashing a thunderous smite against his head. The force of the thunderous wind is enough to immediately blow his skull to pieces, splashing gore against her armor.

The rest of the villagers begin to run towards the two of them. She takes one mace and lifts it against the nearest villagers head, landing a divine smite against the bottom of his chin. He flings backwards onto the ground, the radiance eating at his flesh. But, not enough to kill him just yet. As he writhes on the ground, Minthara steps forward and slams her boot against the side of his skull, slamming it into the ground, killing him.

A few of the villagers begin to rush Daedra as she stands behind Minthara. She calls out an incantation and then stretches her hands out to her side. From beyond the grave, spirits of the dead begin to swirl around her, acting as momentary guardians who will drain the life out of anyone who stands too close to her. The smart villagers back up, but one is too close to move away. He bends over in sudden pain as the guardians begin to eat at him with necrotic energy. Daedra flips her blade in the air and swipes it across his neck, blood immediately splashing against her face and clothing. The cleric maniacally cackles, enjoying the warmth of it crawling down her skin.

As Minthara prepares to run for the remaining villagers, she hears the cleric yell behind her, "Minthara, over to me!" She immediately skips backwards closer to the cleric. Daedra reaches out and grabs the edge of Minthara's armor, pulling her inside the ring of the spirit guardians. To her shock, the guardians do not try to sap at her energy. As the villagers continue to rush them, Daedra very quickly lifts her finger in the air as if drawing an imaginary circle on the ground. Once the imaginary circle is complete, Daedra claps her hands together and pushes them into the air. In an instant, a thunderous force erupts from the ground as the villagers step within the ward she places on the ground.

The two drow begin to laugh as the villagers are launched into the air, "Morfeth ol rosa!" Daedra yells out. As the villagers struggle to come to their feet, Minthara takes advantage of the situation and lunges for them. She channels smites into both of her maces as she leaps into the air. She lands one mace to the head of one villagers, and to the chest of another, smiting both of them. Blood splashes up into her face as they scream in agony with the radiance burning at them.

She and the two remaining villagers come to a stand and they all face each other. Before Minthara can make a move, vines erupt from the ground and tightly wrap around the legs of the villagers. They pull on their legs, struggling to regain their mobility. But the more they move, the more the vines tighten around their legs. Minthara can only laugh as she walks over and brings her mace against their heads.

Minthara stands in the middle of the village, her maces dripping with blood, her chest heavy with breath, gore entwined in her hair. The breeze of death and carnage is refreshing as it licks her skin. The sight of the corpses before her in the dirty road is a wondrous sight. A glorious one. She can't help but smile, revel in her own prowess as nearby bystanders run and scream in terror.

"Look at you..." a deep and sultry voice coos behind her. She cranes her neck and watches as Daedra saunters up behind her. "Smiling. Enjoying herself. You love being drenched in blood and gore. Don't you? Almost just as much as I do." Daedra's red hot gaze circles around her, like a vulture ready to swoop in on its prey. Minthara does not flinch, but there is a flesh of heat in her body as Daedra runs a finger down Minthara's arm. "It looks so damn good on you..." Daedra whispers, her eyes eating in the sight of the paladin.

Minthara's heart chokes in her throat as Daedra wraps her hands around the back of her neck and leans up into her face. The cleric takes her thumbs and begins to gently wipe the blood off Minthara's face, "Do you see how much fun you and I can have if you just learned to cooperate instead of fighting with me all the time?" A new sensation rises to the top of Minthara's chest as her eyes begin to linger on the features of Daedra's face. The flames of blood dancing behind the clerics eyes are mesmerizing. The fading sun glints off the ring pierced in her lip. How soft are they? Would she taste sweet?

Minthara finds herself surprised at her disappointment when Daedra slides her hands off her neck and across her chest as she steps away. Daedra looks around the village, tapping the tip of her blade against her lips. As she thinks, she two turn their head to the sounds of heavy steps. At the edge of the village, someone has climbed atop a horse and begins to run out of the village, intending on seeking help.

A bright orange aura fills Daedra's eyes, her finger tips sizzling with smoke as heat begins to build up. She lifts one hand into the air, a blood red flame bursting out into her hand as she stares down the road. She steps forward, lowering the flame to the ground. In the distance, a radiant fire bursts up from beneath the horse. The horse lifts its hooves off the ground, flipping the rider off of it. The two drow watch in delight, listening to the two runners scream as they burn to death.

"There may be more runners." Minthara says to the cleric.

Daedra laughs menacingly, "Wasn't what I intended today. But, shall we raid this village? Burn it all to the ground?" a wicked smile spreads on her face as she looks back to the paladin.

Minthara growls, "I have no objections."

As per Minthara's initial analysis, this village was indeed an easy target. The only ones who were willing to actually fight were the villagers who had confronted them earlier. The rest were weak and soft, too cowardly to actually defend themselves. None of them were even worth being smited.

The entire time, Minthara kept a very close eye on Daedra, watching her movements. She is ferocious and has a remarkable penchant for violence. An incredibly versatile fighter, being able to easily swap between her knives and spells where necessary. Each strike and flick of radiance of her fingers, done with calculated malice, ensuring to elicit as much agony as possible. Minthara couldn't help but find herself impressed by Daedra's creativity. The village itself had plenty of people, and yet, she did not repeat a method of murder twice. Each and every one of her victims died in a uniquely painful way.

After being sure everyone in the village had been removed from life, the two sit alone in one of the houses, recovering their breaths. Daedra is sprawled out on the couch while Minthara leans her back against the wall. Her blood still runs hot from the battle. She tries to look around the house and out the windows, but they keep bouncing back to the cleric. Her tongue drags along the inside of her cheek, looking over Daedra's body. Conflicting feelings swirl in her chest. Despite the intense loathing she has for this drow, Minthara can also feel something primal and carnal coursing in her blood. And Daedra just so happens to be what's available.

How easy it would be to bend her in half, and rail her against the cushions of that couch. To subject her to the same degree of humiliation, leave her a sniveling, whimpering mess in contrast to the cold and malicious killer she is. To hold her down, force her to take whatever abuse Minthara can think of. To have her melt in pleasure and ecstasy, knowing that it was brought upon her by the paladin she dares hold captive. To be forced into submission by someone she sees as beneath her. How gorgeous it would be to have complete dominion of Daedra's body, regain some of the control Minthara has been robbed of.

Minthara steps away from the wall, "I am going to survey the village, see if they may be squirreling away anything of value." she feels disturbed by the excitement growing within her and the fantasies swirling in her mind. If she is to do anything to that damned drow, it would be to kill her.

"Have fun." Daedra says, still laying on the couch.

She walks from house to house, opening up every drawer she can find to keep herself occupied and distracted from the forbidden desire flooding her mind. In terms of wealth, there wasn't much besides coin. Any jewelry that was to be found was scratched and marked, not even worth selling to a fence. She was sure to pocket any food into her pack as well as any other supplies that may be useful.

As she leans over, filtering through a side table, she realizes that she is completely alone. Daedra still lies on the couch in one of the nearby buildings. Minthara could run right now and Daedra would probably never know until it was too late. But if Daedra find out, that flaming strike would be pure agony. It would be extremely easy for Daedra to stop her.

Minthara continues rummaging through the houses. She needs to infiltrate this cult. Gather something, anything that she can take home and reclaim her pride. She refuses to stand before her mother as a sore loser. This all has to be worth something in the end. The loss of all her warriors, the nasty scar on her neck, the fleeting remembrance of pain in her leg. It all has to be worth something.

As much as she hates to admit, Daedra has begun to intrigue her. Why would someone of her station leave the Underdark and Menzoberranzan? She claims that something pulled her away. Was Daedra also lured up to the surface in a similar manner as Minthara was? Or was it something else entirely? She has incredible combat prowess and Minthara does find her to be rather impressive, something she rarely ever feels for anyone.

As she leaves the final house, she meets Daedra outside who is standing in the road, looking over the corpses in the road. By now, the sun has completely hidden beyond the horizon and the stars have revealed themselves. One of the few sights Minthara actually does appreciate about the surface.

"Find anything useful?" Daedra looks over to Minthara as she approaches.

"Not much gold. And a few survival supplies. Beyond that, nothing too worthwhile." Minthara looks down to Daedra who simply nods her head.

"Good." Daedra steps closer to Minthara and begins to stare into the paladins eyes. Minthara cannot exactly gauge what it is that Daedra is attempting to do, but she most certainly isn't staring in mockery as she has been. Almost as if she is attempting to draw something else out of her.

The cleric flicks her hand in the air and water splashes down on the both of them, cleaning all the blood and gore off her armor.

"Took a little bit of time, but I think you and I have come to a bit of an understanding, haven't we?" Daedra says.

"In a manner of speaking."

"You've had ample opportunity to run. But you haven't. Why?"

"What good would it have done me? Where could I go?" Minthara points down the road, "If I run in that direction, I will find myself being suffocated by that curse again." she looks back to Daedra, "And I know nothing of the surface. I do not even know of another way home. And-" Minthara shakes her head and scoffs, "-you are correct. Lolth, is gone. She will not allow me to come back home."

"So, you're sticking with me cause you have nothing better to do?"

"Perhaps."

"Hm." Daedra's eyes look all over the paladin. Minthara is unsure if Daedra accepts her answer. It isn't entirely wrong, but it certainly does not contain to full truth. "Well, good enough for me. I promise that the events of today won't be the last of them. There is much more excitement awaiting the both of us in the city. And, I think you will fit right in."

Daedra turns around and the two begin to walk down the road. "Oh, and Minnie?" the clerics says behind her, "It was very wise of you to decide not to kill me when I was sleeping."

Minthara's eyes immediately flick to the cleric. She was aware? "What would you have done had I tried?"

Daedra stops in place and lifts her head towards the night sky, pondering her answer. She turns around to face the paladin, a much more menacing look in her eye. "I would have given you exactly what you wanted. I would have taken you home." Daedra slowly steps towards Minthara. The flames of blood pools in Daedra's eyes, enough to spill out of her eye lids and send a paralyzing sense of dread down Minthara's spine. "But you would not have been in one piece." Minthara's breath catches in her throat as Daedra tightly grabs onto the bottom of Minthara's chin with a strength she did not know the cleric to be capable of. Daedra's voice lowers to that of a whisper, "I would have personally delivered your head to your mother, shown her much of a pathetic failure you are. A stain on the Baenre name. And then, I would have claimed the inheritance you were too incompetent to claim yourself, and I would have killed her too. I would have killed everyone in that damn castle and I would have left your head on the throne so you could watch it as it burned to the ground, and you would have been left as Queen of the Ashes."

Daedra flicks Minthara's head back as she releases it, the flames in her eyes returning to normal and a smile on her face, "But you didn't try to kill me so none of that had to happen. But it very well could, if you don't learn your place soon. Now, let's get back on the road. The city awaits!" Daedra turns around, her coat flicking around her ankles as she proceeds down the road.

The paralyzing dread washes over Minthara as she slowly follows behind Daedra. There is something more to this cleric than she lets on. This isn't just arrogance, she is confident she could take on the most powerful house in Menzoberranzan entirely by herself if she tried. There is something to that fire in her eyes, something Minthara has never seen any other drow have. And that sudden burst of strength? Where did that come from?

There is something else behind those eyes, under that skin. A monster just sitting, waiting for the perfect opportunity to show itself. And Minthara is not particularly interested in being on the receiving end on that monsters fury.

Chapter 5: Seduction of Indulence

Chapter Text

The outskirts of the city are poor and desolate, filled with people who are desperate to make better lives for themselves. How pathetic. They do not realize just how little control that they have over their own fates. No, it is these "patriars" who determine how well off they get to be and they do not recognize how futile their efforts are. Dirt roads that could be paved with decorative and organized cobblestone, providing a decent structure to the city. There is sh*t and offal lining the edges of these dirt roads, as proper sewage and waste collection is missing. And houses are placed around at complete random with no thought or foresight as to how they would interact with future construction.

They are all lower class citizens and are properly treated as such. But they do not realize this. Even at night, some of them keep their stalls open, trying to collect as much coin as they can. A few still converse amongst each other, trying to have a pleasant time, distracting themselves from the destitution. Minthara is reminded of the lower streets of the Braeryn. Granted, more intelligent creatures populate the city of Rivington. But the destitution, the desperation, the depression, the depravity. It's all the same. Not particularly a place she would have spent a lot of time amongst, unless there was an opportunity to be found, which there rarely ever was.

"Have you ever been to Baldur's Gate, Minnie?" Daedra says as she walks ahead of the paladin, guiding her down the main street of Rivington.

"No. My mother visited, during one of her grand tours of the surface world. She claims the streets are almost as varied and full of danger as those in Duthcloim." Minthara says, looking around her. The denizens who line the streets out in the open seem harmless. Many of them do not notice the dark and shadier characters who hide in the tight alleys between the buildings, waiting for some oblivious fool to find themselves alone.

"Heh, your mother..." Daedra whispers in a low tone, almost as if hiding her disgust. "She is not entirely wrong. When I first got up here, you have no idea the amount of slurs people call me, mistreating me because of some misguided notions. They have fallen for the propaganda and do not realize that their city is just like ours. But, nooooooo, we're the 'evil ones'." Daedra mockingly waves her hands in the air, irritated and annoyed at her mistreatment.

Minthara forces a cough so she can hide the tiny chuckle that nearly escaped. She may not have spent much time on the surface, but she understands and agrees with Daedra's sentiment. Even those who do not know her have always been quick to judge her, acting as if she was cruel and violent. Of course, their presumptions of her were not wrong as the only reason she was interacting with them was because she did have violent intentions. But their presumptions were born based upon someone else's stories about her culture and her people, rather than her actions. But, none of it mattered in the end. She killed them all anyway.

They continue through Rivington up to a checkpoint. Minthara momentarily stops in place to the sight of a large, black, metal goliath. She keeps her eyes trained on it as she keeps close to Daedra who seems to have no fear of the machine. The black plates embroidered with gold flap around, venting the heat from the engine that roars in its chest piece, radiating the nearby surroundings. It slowly cranes its head down and looks at the drow, assessing them. This is not something that Minthara wants to get into a fight with.

"Halt!" the guard standing next to the metal machine holds out a hand to the cleric, "By orders of Lord Gortash, refugees are no longer allowed in the city. Turn around."

Daedra scoffs, "What makes you think we are refugees?" the guard crooks an eyebrow as her eyes dart between the two drow. Her reasoning is obvious, but she knows it is not wise to admit it.

The guard sighs, "Do you have the means to pay the toll?" she asks them.

"I have the means of paying the toll, sure."

"Good. Only 200 gold pieces then."

"Oh, no no no!" Daedra wags her finger in the air, putting a hand on her hip, "I said I had the means of paying the toll. I did not say I was going to pay the toll."

"Then you may not pass!"

Daedra pushes out her lower lip in a pout and crooks her head up to the metal goliath, "Can you believe this Gorty? She's not going to let me in!" the cleric whines. Minthara intently watches this interaction. Daedra does not seem to be the slightest bit afraid of this machine, and also shows no fear with openly defying authority.

The metal machine looks down to Daedra in recognition of her, "Welcome home, citizen. Your toll has been waived by Lord Enver Gortash. You may enter."

Daedra claps her hands and steps forward, "Thaaaaannnkss!" her head slightly turns towards the guard before looking forward. Minthara steps behind the cleric and passes through the checkpoint. As they get further away from the checkpoint, Daedra speaks back to her, "Minnie, remind me that I need to come back here at some point."

"Why do you need to return here?" Minthara asks.

Daedra immediately turns around and steps close to Minthara. She co*cks her head, looking behind the paladin, "Because I want to kill that guard."

Minthara turns around and faces the guard who has continued onto her duties watching the checkpoint. "The guard was merely fulfilling her responsibilities as dictated by the Lord. Is there any particular reason as to why you want to relinquish her life?"

"My reasons are my own. Just remind me later." Daedra turns around and continues walking down the cobblestone road.

As the two walk across the bridge into what appears to be a fort, Minthara stops in place as she looks out into the ocean. She watches as the waves crash against each other and the stone at the base of the hill. When Minthara comes to the surface, rarely does she spend any time exploring its natural sights. The itinerary always had the same order of events: come to the surface, locate the target, raid the target and eliminate all threats and obstacles, collect any valuables, and then return home.

Observing the natural wonders was never something that she did, as she never particularly cared. Considering she may be stuck up here, she can now take the moment. The Underdark has various lakes and rivers that carve out the landscape. But none of them have the same power and magnificence as this. At least in the Underdark, she always knew that the water ended somewhere. But from what she can see right here, this water does not appear to have an end. And it does not look to have a bottom either. There is a mix of wonder and terror in her chest as she has never seen something so seemingly endless.

She keeps her head forward, but her eyes move to their corners as she can see Daedra move to stand next to her, following her gaze out to the sea. "I am going to guess that you have never seen the ocean before."

Minthara returns her eyes to the water, "No, I have not."

"What do you think of it?"

"It is rather hypnotic. The closest to this that I have witnessed is Lake Donigarten. But these waters," Minthara lifts a hand, her fingers tracing the waves in the water, "they are perilous. I imagine that if one were to find themselves unfortunate to find themselves submerged in those waters, they would quickly be dragged under, in which the breath in their lungs would be replaced with water. Their bodies would fight and struggle to return to the surface in a desperate attempt to catch their breath, but those currents are too powerful and any effort would be futile. They would exhaust themselves before ever tasting the air again."

"That is presuming that the person is alive or conscious when they land in the water." Daedra looks out into the ocean. A live body would indeed fight but struggle against these waters. But a dead or unconscious body would be torn apart. The fall from this bridge down to the water may be enough to knock someone unconscious. She makes a mental note of this location, considering the likelihood of being caught...

Daedra taps on Minthara's hand before she continues into the fort. Her eyes linger on the water before turning to follow the cleric. More of those metal constructs stand along the wall inside the fort. Thankfully, they do not seem to care all too much for the two of them.

The otherside of the fort is exactly the same as Rivington, but also different. These people here in the Lower City are a mix of those who stand a chance at making something of themselves, and those who are somewhat worth a damn. And yet, they all mingle together down here, acting as equals.

Minthara follows behind Daedra who keeps to the edge of the street. Despite the dark of night, Daedra pulls her hood over her head and keeps her head down. The first moment she is able, she cuts into an alleyway. Minthara curls her lip in disgust at the trash she has to walk amongst. Two beggars just senselessly beating each other for amusem*nt, a junkie high out of their mind with vomit spilling out of their mouth, and a whor* plowing her trade behind a dumpster.

At least in Menzoberranzan she could stay on her plateau, away from the filth and the degenerates. She grows curious on whether or not this city has a "plateau" of their own, a location in which those of true and genuine value to society can keep away from the filth. As much as she would like to be on that plateau, Daedra seems to find herself home amongst these backstreets.

Minthara looks around as Daedra crouches down and begins to unlock a door. A handful of people walk by, but they wisely keep walking as they truly do not care for the crime happening before them. Well, either they do not care, or they are too afraid to do anything about it.

The paladin follows behind Daedra as she pops open the door and walks inside. It is stuffed full with half built caskets and half engraved tombstones, clearly the work for a cemetery. A familiar panic swirls in her chest. Why would the cleric lead Minthara all the way from Moonrise to Baldur's Gate just to kill her here? At least she has her maces back, but she still hasn't determined a winning strategy if she were to get into a direct duel with Daedra. She is way too quick and agile and has potent magic, as to be expected of any Priestess of her station.

The cleric leads her into a back office that has bookshelves lining the walls. She glances at the spines of the books and they all detail death rites and rituals to various gods. Is Minthra about to be sacrificed? Is that why Daedra chose her? She tries to channel the power of her oath to give her the strength and the courage to fight whatever ordeal she is being led into, but all she feels is the absence of it. Everything is stacked against her. She would need to get extraordinarily lucky to get out of this alive.

Daedra whispers out a word that Minthara cannot decipher and one of the bookshelves moves on its own, revealing a door. The door opens on its own, giving way to a staircase leading down into the dark. Out of that passageway comes a cold wind carrying the dreadful whispers of the murdered and forgotten. The cleric looks back over her shoulder to the paladin behind her. Despite the dread curling around her spine, Minthara keeps a steel face, not giving way to whatever emotion Daedra wants her to feel.

Daedra chuckles as she walks down the stairs. Minthara takes a heavy breath and slowly follows behind. The cold chill of the basem*nt bites at the exposed parts of her skin and eats through her leathers. Goosebumps already begin to form and her muscles begin to shiver, trying to warm her up. But the spirits of the dead and departed do not like it when people walk comfortably amongst them.

They turn the corner to face three knights who seem to be guarding a ceremonial door. These three are rather unusual. There is a presence inhabiting their armor, but there is nothing inside. As Daedra approaches, one of the knights turns around and pushes the two ceremonial doors open. The moment the two drow make it to the other side of the doorway, the doors ring through the chamber as the knight slams them shut. Whatever happens, they are not to leave until everything has been resolved.

In the middle of the chamber stands a podium. And behind that podium is a man who is the definition of dread itself.

"You have returned, child of murder." his deep and rumbling voice speaks down to the cleric, "To what do I owe the honor of your presence in the tribunal of our Dread Lord?"

The Dread Lord? Bhaal?

Daedra continues walking through the inner chamber, away from the podium and to a hallway along the sidewall. "Here to make a new Unholy Assassin."

The man stands up and looks at Daedra. She stops in place and looks back to him. He does not seem to be too pleased with her words. "Then I presume that you have prepared a most holy sacrifice so that our new aspirant may transcend?" the man's gaze moves from the cleric to the paladin. A new wave of dread circles her nerves, threatening to paralyze Minthara in her place

"Nope." Daedra turns down the hall and continues walking. Minthara turns her eyes away and follows behind Daedra. She can hear his heavy footsteps stomp behind her as he follows the two drow into another chamber. She walks into a room that looks like it is meant for a ritualistic ceremony to play out. In the center of the chamber, the stone dips down into a ceremonial pattern. The stone itself has been stained red.

"If there is to be no sacrifice, then how do you expect our new 'aspirant' to prove herself to our lord?" the man walks past the paladin and stands next to Daedra.

"She does not need to prove herself to him, just to me." Daedra walks down the steps to the center of the circular chamber.

"To gain the Dread Lord's favor, one must earn the title of Unholy Assassin. With no sacrifice, this," the man turns back to the paladin, his dreadful eyes looking her over, "aspirant cannot hope to properly inherit a portfolio of murder." he turns back around to face Daedra.

The cleric looks over to the man, "Sarevok. Look at me." she stretches her arms and puffs out her chest, demanding that everyone in the room pay attention to her, "Our Father is not the only god in which I have performed sacred rites for. If I felt that this would not be enough, then I would not be here." Daedra turns back around and kneels into the center of the circle, tracing her fingers along the red stone. "I have already assessed her capabilities and she and I are very much alike, more than she would like to admit. I can assure you, Father would have no problem with baptizing her without a sacrifice."

"You may be the most pure Bhaalspawn to every exist," the man steps forward closer to the ritual circle, "but performing the ascension without the proper sacrifice will-"

"Shut the f*ck up." Daedra growls as she stands to look back to the man, "If you wanted to dictate how things worked, then perhaps you shouldn't have been a colossal failure. Instead, I had to come to exist because you did not properly utilize the inheritance he gave you. Why do you think he's shoved you in this tiny little box, away from the Temple? Why do you think he invited Orin and not you?"

Sarevok wears a scowl on his face, a deadly aura radiating around him. But he remains silent and says nothing in response to the drow. Minthara looks at the man out of the corner of her eye. The Bhaalspawn crisis may have been a surface problem, but it was problem enough that it found its way into the Underdark. The last she knew, this man died near about a century ago. How is it that he is still alive now?

But more importantly, Daedra is Bhaalspawn? Minthara's eyes look back forward to Daedra. More questions pop into her head, but so do answers. Now it makes sense as to how Daedra has been able to easily knock Minthara down, she is the child of a god! Any fight between them was always going to be in the clerics favor and always will be.

Daedra has gone from a cleric of Lolth to a cleric of Bhaal. Perhaps the Lord of Murder is who pulled her away from the Underdark and why Lolth so easily discarded her. The Spider Queen hates those who show open worship to another god that is not Her. The cleric has been very tight-lipped about Bhaal, but Minthara did not get the sense that Daedra worshiped him. No, she despises him. So why does she do anything in his name?

She watches as the cleric pulls out her dagger and glides it across her wrist. She squeezes her hand into a fist and points it towards the ground, allowing her blood to drain onto the stone floor. "Hear me Father." a red magic circle appears underneath the clerics feet, filling the room with its dreadful light. The red of her eyes shining brighter than ever. "I stand before you, ready to invite a new member into the ranks." Minthara takes a step back as blood begins to rise from the concrete and drain towards the hole in the ground. The crimson liquid begins to swirl around the cleric's feet, forming a pool of blood. "I have properly vetted her and her ability to craft such exquisite carnage. Her performance has been nothing but superb, full of the proper reverence. I think you would like her."

Daedra returns her dagger to her hip and squeezes at her bleeding wrist, pushing out more blood. The ceremonial circle fills up completely creating a spring of blood. The cleric stands there with the pool rising well above her ankles. Daedra turns around and faces Minthara, reaching a hand out to her, inviting her into the pool.

Minthara takes a slow and deep breath and walks forward. She walks down along where she remembers where the steps were, the blood beginning to fill her boots. The blood is thick and makes it difficult for the paladin to wade through it as she gets close to Daedra.

As she nears, Daedra holds out a flat palm and twists her wrist in which she points towards the ground. "On. Your. Knees." Daedra purrs to her. But Minthara stands exactly where she is, allowing her height advantage to tower over the cleric. She will not bow to anyone but Lolth.

Daedra chuckles at her. "Think back to your early days at the Academy and being sworn in as Her paladin. Do you recall what would happen to those who would not obey and refused to do what they were told?" Minthara does recall, and she recalls well. She herself has had to punish plenty of defiant clerics, paladins, and all those who spoke blasphemy. "Just because I no longer server Her, does not mean I would do anything different. Now get. On your. Knees."

Minthara grinds her teeth. She has felt the cruelty of a Lolth Priestess, and she herself has enforced those cruel words willingly. She is fully aware of what Daedra will do if she does not obey, and Sarevok is standing behind her, observing. Every step she is forced to take closer to Daedra, the further she gets away from Lolth. Daedra is deliberately ensuring that regaining the favor of the Spider Queen becomes more and more difficult.

Minthara swallows her pride and looks to Daedra with disgust as she drops to her knees. She can feel the viscous blood soak into her armor and she can feel it stick to her skin. She closes her eyes and curls her lips, revolting to the sensation of Daedra's hand drawing a trail along her cheek and down her neck.

A sickly giggle vibrates in the clerics throat, "You have no idea just how good you look down there." she whispers, "I will never get enough of this sight." Minthara gasps as Daedra grabs onto the back of her hair and pulls on it, forcing the paladin to look at her. Unfiltered rage begins to boil in her own blood at the sardonic look in Daedra's eyes. Never in her life has she been treated with such humiliation by anyone that wasn't her mother. The day she kills this f*cking drow will be the best day of her life.

"Open your mouth." Daedra says. Minthara's jaw quivers, contemplating on disobeying the order as the punishment may be worth it. But she remembers how much the villagers had screamed in response to Daedra's brutality, and she will ensure that Minthara experiences the absolute worst of it. Hatred flushes her skin as Daedra chuckles to Minthara opening her mouth.

"Take my blood," the cleric shoves her wrist against Minthara's mouth and tightens her fist, squeezing her blood into the paladin's mouth, "as it is an unholy blessing. It will provide you the highest possible favor that I can grant you." Daedra's blood washes down Minthara's throat as she sucks on the clerics wrist. She had expected it to be rancid, but it is actually rather sweet. The more she drinks, the more her body heats up as the unholy blessing mixes with her own blood. She contemplates biting a chunk out of the clerics flesh, but the blood pouring down her throat is making her body feel light and floaty, almost as if providing her with some divine high. Minthara has no idea how she is going to rectify this before Lolth.

As her stomach starts to ache from the copious amount of blood she drank, Daedra pulls her wrist away and releases Minthara's head. The paladin takes her hand and wipes the clerics blood from her lips while Daedra heals the cut. Every sight before her becomes so much more intense and her thoughts come to a near meditative still. She feels almost, euphoric. She can feel her heart pounding her throat as Daedra places a hand on her chest. It feels as if Minthara's eyes are moving through cotton as she looks into the flames that dance behind the clerics eyes. Something strange within her own body resonates with the Bhaalspawn, as if her own blood is dancing along with Daedra's fire.

"Hold your breath, Minnie." Daedra squeals in a mocking tone a she pushes Minthara back into the pool of blood. Minthara instinctively reaches up and grabs onto the clerics arm as she pushes the paladin further into the pool. She tries to flail around in the blood, trying to rise back to the surface as she does not wish to drown in it. But, suddenly, the ground beneath her disappears.

Daedra's hand is removed from her chest, but phantom hands begin to grab onto her body and pull her down. Minthara's breath borders on hyperventilation as she is dragged deeper and deeper into the spring pool. The hands grab at everything they can find, not leaving a single inch of her body untouched. For a reason unknown to her, nothing is filling her lungs so she is not drowning, but she is still unable to breathe.

The room is red, everything is red. Then they slowly begin to appear one by one. The faces of the lives of those she has denied in her long life. But, this isn't everyone she has killed. A handful of them are missing. She looks over these faces and thinks back to when she took their lives. Standing in front are the villagers she killed a few days ago. These just aren't the faces of people she has killed. These are the faces of those she has taken a carnal pleasure in killing. She always told herself that she only kills for necessity, that she has a reason to kill, that she does what she has to in order to survive. But a majority of those reasons were excuses that she pulled from nothing. She killed them all because she wanted to. And the Lord of Murder looks down to her, wearing a wider smile than Lolth ever did.

Every single cell of her body rages as if set aflame. A piece of her essence is bitten out of her. She watches as the blood begins to swirl around it like a whirlwind, being drawn into the essence. She watches in awe as the blood quickly catches on fire, just like the one blazing behind Daedra's eyes, the Blood Flame.

Minthara sits up, returning back to the ceremonial room. The blood begins to drawn away, being absorbed by the stone. She looks at her shaky hands as she tries to catch her breath, her throat as dry as cotton. She can feel the flame burning through her blood, raging inside her body.

"What did you see?" Daedra asks her. Minthara looks up to the cleric. There is no sign of mockery to the way she looks down to the paladin. She seems to be genuinely curious about Minthara's experience. "Everyone sees something different. I'm curious, what did you see? What urge haunts you?"

Minthara stands back up and faces Daedra, her legs slightly wobbly and her head dizzy. "That... is only for me... to know." She pants with a heavy breath. She is testing her luck with Daedra, trying to figure out where the line is between the two of them.

"Hm. Very well then."

The walk through the sewers was abhorrent, and insulting. A sign of how far this drow noble has fallen. Never would she have been caught dead walking in filth and excrement. But these are no ordinary sewers as they seem to hide every little secret of this city. Despite her antipathy for her current surroundings, the sewers are a clever place to hide things as very few would dare to walk down here.

One of these hidden secrets is the Temple of Bhaal. Minthara stands atop a hill and overlooks the entrance to it. The dark and ominous torches illuminate all the blood that drips from every stone, rock, and solid surface. In some places, it appears as if the blood is flowing from nothing. She cannot deny the magnificence of it all. She can feel the pressure of dread all around her, and the source is emanating from the drow next to her.

She follows Daedra down a bridge, blood splashing with each step she takes. Walking inside the stone archway, she spots about a dozen acolytes standing around in hunting coats similar to the one Daedra is wearing. Seems they have taken quite the affinity for her, thinking that imitating her style will gain her approval. They look at her, eyes and whispers of reverence. She is their leader, their High Priestess, their god.

Minthara walks down a stone stairway to an altar in the center of a stone platform. The acolytes bend their heads in deference to the cleric as she walks by. If they bent any lower, they might just start kissing the very ground behind her. Minthara has witnessed the power this little drow has. Her ruthlessness, her brutality, the potency of her magic, her dominion and command over blood. As much as she is loath to admit it to herself, she reflexively feels a sliver of veneration for Daedra.

In another life, she too would be bowing her head to the cleric, faithfully honoring every word and command. She may no longer be a Priestess of Lolth, but she still holds herself as one. Minthara can still feel those instincts within her, wanting and needing to have someone, or something, to worship. Ready and willing to serve, and enforce any and all commands that may bark out of this cleric's lips as her word is law.

Daedra walks up to the stone alter and sits upon it. Her eyes scan over all the acolytes before falling back on the paladin. "So, what do you think?" she waves a hand to the nearby surroundings. Minthara turns her head and glances around. Most of the acolytes have their eyes trained on Daedra, refusing to look away from her. They worship her, adore her, love her. In some dark corner of the temple, she can hear the melodic screams and cries of someone being tortured. She can feel the whispers of the dead flutter against her skin, leaving behind a cold chill.

Walking on the surface and through the streets of the city, Minthara very much felt like an outcast. One who was not welcomed and did not belong. But down here? It almost feels like home. Perhaps it could just be the nature of the temple that worships of Lord of Murder. Bhaal and Lolth may be very different gods, but they both love to gorge on blood and carnage. Or perhaps Daedra herself made the temple as much like home as she could. This is her temple, and it is clear she rules over it like any Lolth Priestess would rule over their house and cloister.

"An underground city of 'villains'." Minthara turns back to Daedra. "You took me out of the Underdark just to bring me back home." the paladin says with a smirk.

Daedra muffles a laugh as she looks back to the paladin. She looks back out over the temple, her legs swinging and bouncing against the altar. "It is like home..." her voice trails off. She tries to keep her face as still as possible so as to not reveal any emotion. But Minthara can see, no, she can feel the longing the cleric has for home. Minthara is all the more sure that Daedra purposefully made this place operate just like a Lolthite temple as a means of combating her homesickness.

The cleric looks back to Minthara, "You know, I have never given anyone a blessing like the one that I gave you. I'm not even sure it works. Test it out for me, will you." Daedra slightly lowers her head as she stares at the paladin.

"How would you like me to conduct this test?"

Daedra shrugs her shoulders, a coy smile on her face, "In any way that you like."

"I do not know what power it is that I am expected to test."

The clerics chuckles and sighs, "Yes, you do." the little drow says in a low voice as she hops off the altar. She begins to circle around Minthara, gliding her hands across her arm, her shoulders, her back. Minthara clenches her jaw to the sensation of Daedra's feather light fingers glazing across the back of her neck. A mixture of feelings coiling in her stomach. Disgust. Rage. Hatred. Lust. Minthara closes her eyes as Daedra pushes down on her shoulders, the clerics hot breath against her neck. "Feel my blood coursing through your veins." Daedra whispers, sending warm tingles down her spine with each word that caresses her ear. "Feel how much it hates to be contained in a vessel it doesn't belong to. Feel how much that it just wants to get out. Let it out."

Daedra lowers back down to the flat of her feet. Minthara can feel the cleric's arm brush against her side. She looks down to see Daedra's small hand on the hilt of a dagger, passing it off to the paladin. Minthara slowly takes the dagger, her hand brushing against the drow's. As Daedra releases it into Minthara's grasp, she moves out from behind the paladin and sits back on the altar. She leans backwards on it, watching Minthara with intrigue and fascination. She wants Minthara to prove herself before her. All things Minthara has done once before, to another Priestess in her past. Daedra may have been birthed by Bhaal, but she was raised by Lolth.

Minthara looks at the dagger, the blade red and curling as if made of blood itself. She can feel the power of the stone embedded into its hilt. She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling Daedra described. Feelings she already has. Anger. Rage. Hatred. Fury. Wrath. The deep longing and desire to slit this drow's throat, cave her skull in, and offer her up to Lolth upon this very altar. She can feel the warmth boil in her blood, desperately craving to just let it all out.

She takes the blade against her wrist, drawing in a sharp breath as she drags it across her skin. As the blood trickles out of her body, it crawls onto the blade of the dagger and ignites, fueled by the rage Minthara feels in her heart. She raises the knife before her, mesmerized by the Blood Flame.

"Good, it works." Daedra nods her head in approval. Minthara stares at the fire coating the dagger. This flame will certainly come in handy. If she could pair this flame with the heat of her smites, she would be able to slice through flesh much more easily. A sanguine smile spreads between her cheeks. How much easier it would have been to kill all those villagers if she had this flame then. She will enjoy hearing the sizzle of flesh as it cooks against the blade while she drags it through skin.

Daedra walks up to the paladin and grabs the blade of the dagger, extinguishing the flame. Minthara releases the hilt as the cleric reclaims it.

"There is a lot of work that needs to be done, both for the Absolute and this temple." Daedra shuffles her feet as she walks in a circle, her hands clasped behind her back and head pointed towards the ground. "My attentions have been pulled over to the Absolute as of late. The temple may be assisting in those operations, but it is a Temple of Bhaal first." Daedra straightens herself out and looks to Minthara. "A paladin such as yourself, a former paladin of Lolth, is exactly what I need to keep things tame while I work on the Absolute."

"And you expect me to manage your temple for you?"

"In a manner of speaking, sure." Daedra sits back down on the altar, her eyes looking up to the acolytes who stare at her. She rolls her eyes at the thought of them, "Without a strong hand, these murderhobos would just kill anything and everything, they are all so stupid. They constantly run the risk of getting caught and it brings too much attention to the temple. If we wish to continue our fun, we still need to be discrete. Almost as discrete as those bloody Sharrans."

"I do not know much of the Lord of Murder and his activities, but I did not presume Bhaal to be concerned for discretion. I always presumed that he loved murder and death, and wanted the world to know it was him."

Daedra opens her mouth to say something, but quickly closes it. Her eyes look away from Minthara briefly, carefully crafting her response. "We cannot expect to sow ruin if we are halted halfway through the task. This is not Bhaal's concern, it is mine as he is the one who decided to make me his Chosen, and so I am the one who has say over how things operate. As long as we murder and keep the counts high, he does not care if I prefer discretion."

Not only is Daedra the child of a god, she's the chosen of that very god. Minthara looks Daedra over once more. What exquisite power she can wield with those tiny little hands of hers. Minthara's more morbid curiosities are eager to discover what else the cleric is capable of. She just may be someone worth making an oath to.

"What do you say? Would you like to assist me, paladin?" Daedra wiggles her body as she looks at Minthara. Being in the service of the Lord of Murder? She nearly considers it to be an honor as Bhaal should want her in his arsenal. She is one of the best killers that she knows. But getting on her knees before another god, one that is not the Spider Queen? She just needs to do what needs to be done. And for now, she needs Daedra to see her as an ally. At the first opportunity, she will kill her.

"I will make an oath to Bhaal." she nearly expects to receive a divine punishment from Lolth, but is surprised to feel nothing. She furrows her brow and just listens. Is Lolth really going to let her do this?

"Good. You know what to do." Daedra taps her feet against the stone, waiting. Minthara clenches her teeth and swallows her pride as she drops to one knee before the cleric and reaches out her hand. Daedra stands up, her eyes filling with a gold aura with the edges highlighted in red. The cleric cups Minthara's hand between her own. The paladin slightly winces as a painful heat shoots down her arm to her shoulder and crawls to her heart.

"As I said before, you can keep the tenants of vengeance. I think it will suit you well. However, your oath will not be to Bhaal, it will be to me specifically. You will act in my name first, Bhaal second, then the Absolute third. You will enforce my will over this temple in the event that I am absent, or carry out any other order that I give you. You are a paladin of Bhaal in name only, but your oath is to me.

Minthara can feel her blood begin to burn and run hot as the cleric restores her oath. Already, she feels more powerful than she did before, and she does not know or understand as to why. Perhaps it is due to the unholy blessing Daedra gave her. But what kind of blessing is it? Regardless, for the time being, she may just enjoy serving Daedra. The events of the village were pleasant and the cleric did promise there would be more like it.

"I, Minthara Baenre, swear an oath of vengeance in your name, Daedra. I will deliver bloody vengeance on all those who defy you, and protect any and all of your interests. And I will punish and annihilate any who dare threaten your life."

The rage in her blood begins to cluster within her chest as her oath is restored. Daedra releases Minthara's hands in which the paladin slaps it to her knee. She does not recall feeling this way the last time she took an oath. She feels stronger, more powerful, as if she could wreak havoc on the world. Daedra calls this an unholy blessing, but Minthara certainly feels as if she has been blessed by something truly divine.

"Stand up, paladin." Daedra says, the gold light in her eyes dissipating. Minthara follows orders and towers above the Priestess. "Congratulations, Minthara Baenre. You are the first of your class and order. And I have so many things in store for you."

Chapter 6: Opportunity Attack

Chapter Text

The only thing that Minthara can hear is the sound of her own heavy breath as she tries to drown out all other sounds. Sweat trickles down her cheeks and neck, and her muscles burn with exertion. Bodies lay at her feet, their blood pooling into a river to feed the Dread Lord. They were all fools to think that they could stand against her on equal footing. And they were not alone.

Behind her, a boot scrapes against the stone as one of her invisible assailants approaches her in their ambush. She silently smiles to herself, using the noises of shuffled debris and splashing blood to pinpoint their location. As the noises grow closer to her, she brings her sword to her shoulder and slips her foot behind her. Twisting her hips and spinning around, she swings her sword in the air to an enemy she cannot see.

The heat of the blood flame dancing on the sword is enough to melt the flesh, slicing through their neck like a knife through butter. As Minthara finishes the move, the Bhaalists head pops off, its arms slapping at the air before crumpling to the ground. Blood gushes out of the wound and sprinkles like a fountain. Thinking her distracted, another zealot reveals himself behind her, ready to drive his knife between her ribs.

She skips backward and leans over, pushing her foot against his stomach. He grunts out as she kicks the wind out of him, forcing him to momentarily freeze in place as he attempts to catch his breath. In his own distraction, Minthara grabs his shoulders, and plunges her sword into the soft fleshy part of his stomach. Blood spits out of his mouth and gurgles in his throat as he screams to the blood flame, mixed with the dripping necrotic energy, begins to dissolve his internal organs. She pulls back her blade and pushes on his shoulder, tossing the soon to be corpse on the ground.

But this one doesn't seem to want to die right away. He holds onto his stomach, his legs kicking in the air as he wails in agony. If the definition of mercy resonated with Minthara's soul, she would end his suffering. Unfortunately for him, she does not care and will not waste her energy giving him what he has not earned.

Very quickly, she brings the hilt of her sword into the air, the blade parallel to the ground. There is a loud clash of metal as she catches the dagger thrown at her with her sword. The Bhaalist takes a surprised step backwards, baffled that she was able to deflect the knife on such quick notice. Minthara immediately runs towards him as he begins to twist his hands in the air. A light mist rises from the ground and surrounds his body, ready to infuse with his skin to turn him invisible. Just as he is about to push his hands towards the ground to complete the spell, the paladin drives her shoulder into his chest, slamming him against the wall.

He slides down to the ground, whimpers of fear stuttering out of his throat. He puts his hands up, uttering words begging for mercy. She lifts the flat of her boot against his neck and stomps down, enjoying the sensation of his windpipe crushing beneath it. He coughs and chokes as he brings his hands to his throat, slowly suffocating from the inside out.

In a last ditch effort, the man reaches into his pack pulling out a health potion. The moment he pops the cork and brings it to his mouth, Minthara kicks his hand, shattering the potion against the stone. A sad*stic smile grows on her face as she watches him writhe and crawl through the blood on the floor. But he does not make it far until his body succumbs to death.

Behind her, there is a series of soft claps and a playful whistle. Minthara turns around to see Daedra leaning against the door frame. The paladin stands in place, recovering her heavy breath as the cleric walks into the room. The drow chuckles to herself, scanning over the bloody mess Minthara left behind.

"You know, you did not have to kill them all." Daedra crooks her neck up to Minthara, a gleeful smile on her face. Contrary to her words, the sight of death is pleasant, near arousing for her.

Minthara chuckles, flicking her new sword and splattering blood droplets against the stone floor. "They all attacked with the same patterns with very little variation, their moves exceedingly predictable. Their incessant use of invisibility was nothing more than a crutch as many of them lacked the proper kill and technique to fight. They were all laughably weak, and I took great pleasure in culling them from this temple, so that we may make room for more adequate members worthy of Bhaal's embrace."

Daedra licks her lips as they twist into a smile, "I'd expect nothing less from you. You are fitting into your role quite well, I would say." Daedra turns away from Minthara and continues to look over the bodies Minthara had dropped.

It has only been two weeks since being inducted as a paladin of Bhaal and Minthara is still settling in. So far, many of the acolytes have come to fear her and respect her, but a few still attempt to challenge her. Those who do not heed her warnings are quickly disposed of, something the Priestess greatly appreciates.

Minthara has spent this entire time listening to the conversations amongst the zealots, trying to figure out the dynamic they have with Daedra. They all do indeed worship her as they see her as the face of Bhaal. Sometimes, it seems like they worship her more than the god of this temple. As pathetic as the acolytes are, she can't help but admire the level of sway and control Daedra has over them.

Unfortunately, none of them have said a word about Daedra's past and her time in the Underdark. At first she believed it to be a tightly held secret amongst the cultists, but it is more likely that they simply do not know as it is a secret to Daedra.

"You know, it has been some time since I have seen a proper paladin train." Daedra stands on the opposite side of the room, her hands clasped behind her back. "You are rather impressive."

"Did you have a paladin at your side when you were in Menzoberranzan?"

"I did. For a while." Daedra's face grows flat and emotionless, her eyes looking away into a corner as she laments on old memories. The Priestess does an exquisite job at concealing her emotions. But she grieves, and she grieves a lot. Daedra closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before returning her attention to the drow before her, "But those times are long gone. And so is she."

She? There was a she?

"If you are interested, you are free to train with me." Minthara says with a sly smile on her face. This would be a perfect opportunity to see Daedra's combat abilities up close, find her openings, weaknesses, any information that may be useful for later.

Daedra laughs out, the pleasant ring of her voice echoing in the room. The Priestess looks back at Minthara, biting at her lower lip. Minthara raises an eyebrow, attempting to entice the cleric to "train". She takes a step forward from the wall, wigging her arms by her side. "Alright."

Minthara brings her sword to her shoulder, "You have no weapon on you. Would you not prefer to make this a 'fair' fight?"

"Nope." the cleric only smiles. Minthara's heart flutters and something coils in her stomach.

This is not going to be like the previous fights in Moonrise. Minthara's leg is no longer injured and cannot be used as a weak point. She is not going to allow herself to be taken down so easily this time around. She watches as Daedra bounces on the balls of her feet, her arms loosely flapping against her sides.

She goes over her previous assessments of Daedra. Previously, she did not have to really put in much of an effort to knock Minthara down, considering she wasn't at her peak performance. Daedra is extremely quick, agile, and precise. She is very small and hard to catch and even harder to hold down. Her bones and joints are very flexible and pliable and she can slip out of any hold Minthara could put her in. Her flurry of punches are unpredictable as the cleric generally does not punch in the same place twice. That will be the move that she will need to avoid. And if it cannot be avoided, she will need to brace herself.

Minthara straightens her body and overlooks the drow before her. Daedra is prepared to fight, and her loose stance portrays extreme confidence, as if there won't be a single attack Minthara could throw at her in which she wouldn't be prepared for. The little drow has lightning quick reflexes, and the paladin will somehow need to be faster than light if she intends to get a hit in.

Daedra is also willing to engage in a fight against an armed opponent without any visible weapons on her. Either she has a hidden weapon, or she has something else that would allow her to fight against a sword on equal footing anyway.

Minthara is pulled out of her analytical mode as Daedra whistles to her again, taunting her, goading her into the training fight she insisted on. The paladin clears her throat and laughs as she stretches her entire body. There is a pleasant burn in her muscles as the blood rushes through her body. She twists her wrist and spins her sword in the air while squaring her stance, resting her blade against the back of the wrist of her other hand.

Daedra moves very slowly as she bends at the hip, the brightness of her eyes burning brighter with every inch she lowers. The Priestess licks the top row of her teeth as she bares her fangs, like a displacer beast ready to pounce on her prey. Blood splashes as her foot steps forward and rises to the tip of her toes. Minthara will only have a split second to react.

With just the tips of her toes, Daedra somehow launches herself across the entirety of the room. Minthara slides the flat of her blade across her wrist as she firmly grasps the hilt. She steps forward and straightens out her arm, her sword slicing through the air. As expected, the cleric ducks beneath the sword at just the last second, the blade searing off the ends of her hair. Before Minthara can turn to address her opponent, she yelps out as the Priestess lands a solid punch to her kidney.

She does not sit and fester in pain and spins on her foot, skipping backwards. As she moves, the cleric reaches a punch downward to her leg. Daedra slams her foot against the ground, deviously laughing at herself for having missed the punch. Minthara may not be as quick as she is, but she is quicker than the last time they fought. Daedra looks over to Minthara, her breath kicking up.

The paladin will not give her a second longer to stand in amusem*nt. She brings the sword across her body and slashes it through the air towards the drow. She had expected the Priestess to dodge the attack. What she did not expect was for Daedra to flip her body horizontally over the sword. The moment Daedra lands on the ground, she immediately punches the paladin in the gut.

The paladin bends into Daedra's fist, breathless. As she pulls her other hand back, ready to punch again, Minthara pushes her shoulder forward and slams it against the Priestesses chest. She takes the brief moment to catch her breath as Daedra stumbles backwards.

Minthara wraps both hands around the hilt of her sword and drives it forward like a spear. Daedra immediately slides to the side and grabs onto Minthara's wrist and pulls her, allowing the paladin to throw herself to the ground with her own momentum.

Minthara grunts and growls to herself as she collapses to the ground. She listens intently to her surroundings, attempting to pinpoint Daedra's location behind her. An electric panic sparks across her skin to the realization that she cannot hear the cleric. Either Daedra is not moving, or her footsteps are silent. She grabs onto the hilt of her sword and immediately starts to charge a smite into it.

She takes the chance that Daedra is closer than she can detect and twists her hips. As she flips around, she drags the sword across the stone floor and kicking up sparks. To her delight, Daedra was much closer than she anticipated. The cleric's eyes grow wide in surprise, realizing how close she is to Minthara's blade burning gold with radiance. She quickly leaps back, but not in time. As the paladin brings the sword above her, she releases the thunderous smite, the unrelenting winds blasting the tiny drow backwards.

Daedra coughs as she lands flat on her back, the wind being forced out of her lungs. Minthara flips her legs in the air, allowing the weight of them to pull her to her feet. She can feel the sweat start to drench through her armor as her heart hammers against her rib cage. Daedra is flat on her back, tapping against her chest trying to regain her breath. Why wait for some time in the future when the perfect opportunity has appeared before her?

Minthara channels another smite as she raises her sword above her head. She can already feel the shield of her oath pressing against her chest, the pressure of it ready to shatter. A part of her finds it off putting that she feels sickened at breaking another oath. But another part of her feels the rage of righteous vengeance. Does not matter if it is today, tomorrow, next week, or next year, this drow needs to die eventually. She needs to pay for everything she has done to Minthara, and for being traitorous scum in the eyes of Lolth.

As she plunges her sword down, she finds herself airborne as Daedra kicks her foot against Minthara's leg and knocks her over. As Minthara falls over, a red light completely fills the Priestesses eyes as Daedra reaches her arm up and grabs onto the paladin's throat. She hooks a leg onto Minthara's hip and immediately flips over, wacking the back of her head against the bloody stone. Daedra straddles herself on Minthara's hips as she tightens her grasp on the paladin's throat.

Through blurred vision, she looks up to the cleric on top of her, a pained breath struggling to flow through her windpipe. Thick and sharp claws wrapping around her neck, large spikes protruding from Daedra's forearm and the back of her elbow. Every thread of muscle from Daedra's wrist to her shoulder bulges against her skin, threatening to rip it apart. Steel strikes against the ground as Minthara drops her sword to grab at Daedra's wrist. The skin on her arm has grown incredibly coarse and slimy, small protrusions poke underneath her skin as if something inside is trying to rip itself out.

Somehow, Daedra has grown far strong and seemingly from nowhere. Minthara flails her body against the cleric, even driving her knees into her assailant's pelvis. But Daedra holds still, a wicked and demented smile on her face, mocking Minthara at her pathetic attempts to fight her off. Minthara releases one hand, bringing it up to Daedra's face in an attempt to scratch out her eyes. But, faster than light, the Priestess snaps her head and chomps her teeth around Minthara's fingers.

The paladin elicits another pained groan as she pulls her fingers back, a small portion of her skin is scraped off the bone as they move through Daedra's sharp teeth. She takes the hand down and starts to punch at Daedra's chest. But she does not move, she does not budge. None of this makes sense. Where did this strength come from?

She can feel the power draining from her body as her vision starts to fade to black. Her erratic movements begin to slow down and seize as they lose energy. Every cell in her body starts to slowly die, being deprived of the world's sweet and precious oxygen. Pressure builds up in her head, almost as if it's about to pop off due to the force wrapped around her neck.

O'Lolth! Please! I do not wish to die... like this...

But Lolth is not here to answer her prayers.

Minthara's movements begin to slow and her eyes roll to the back of her head as Daedra tightens her grip and pushes her weight into the paladin's throat. She can feel the crack of her windpipe, and all she can hear is the blood rushing in her head as it has nowhere else to go. She stares into the black of the abyss as death reaches up its hand to pull her into its embrace.

Two hundred years. For two hundred years she has fought off each and every single assassin who has come her way, including her own mother. She has survived multiple stabbings and poisoning, prevailing above them all. And here she is being choked to death by a drow half her size all because she got a little too co*cky and full of herself.

Her lungs suddenly inflate upon instinct as she takes a colossal gasp of air as the pressure on her throat is released. She takes quick and sharp breaths, gulping and inhaling in the air. Her vision spins and is sprinkled with stars as it slowly returns to her, tears leaking out of her eyes as her throat burns. The pressure in her head thunders and is ready to crack her skull. Daedra chuckles at her as she sits on top of Minthara, enjoying the sight of the paladin struggling to breath.

"You know, it is admirable of you to leverage a 'training exercise' to find an opportunity to kill me." Minthara's chest heaves as she looks up to the drow who still sits on her body. She flinches and draws a sharp breath to the feeling of Daedra's feather fingers gliding across the fresh and pulsing bruise on her neck. "Too bad I am not as easy to kill as you would have hoped, but you are as easy to kill as I had imagined. You are going to need to be a bit more clever than that. But, it was a good attempt. This was fun."

A cold wave of energy licks her skin as Daedra uses her healing magic to reduce the swelling on her throat. Fear begins to mix in with confusion as well as an uncomfortable wave of arousal to Daedra's fingers across her neck and her body grinding against her own. Even though the cleric brought her pain, she is also providing relief. But, it is not as if Daedra had no reason to respond in the way that she did.

Minthara takes a heavy gasp of air as the Priestess stands off her. She begins to cough as she crawls onto her elbows and rises to her knees. Before she can push herself off the ground, the Priestess plants her monstrous claw on the paladins shoulder and lowers her back to the ground and onto her knees. She winces again as Daedra brings a soft hand to her cheek, her thumb gliding across Minthara's lower lip.

"I will never get enough of seeing you like this." Daedra purrs as she grows drunk with the power dynamic between the two of them. "It is pleasant for the role to be reverse this time."

Minthara swallows, ignoring the scraping pain in her throat. "Reversed? When was there ever a moment in which the roles were reversed?" she says with a pained rasp in her voice, still fighting against the damage to her windpipe. Her body trembles in fear with each breath she takes, terrified of what Daedra may still do to her.

Daedra chuckles, "In another life. At a time in which I was just as rebellious as you were, refusing to bow down and submit to powers higher than me." she glides two of her fingers across Minthara's lips, spreading them apart. "I do not know what kind of lessons she gave you, but do you want to know what lesson she gave me?" Daedra slips her fingers into Minthara's mouth and shoves them down her throat. Minthara coughs to the welcome intrusion in her mouth, one that threatens to choke her again. She contemplates biting down and snapping the drows fingers off, but the claws start to dig into the back of her neck and provide an ample warning of what may happen if she were to continue fighting. What the hell are those things? Where did they come from? Minthara looks into the flames of blood swirling around in Daedra's eyes, flickering with the amusem*nt.

"Huh, this will not work then. I wonder how many things you had to shove down there in order for you to lose your gag reflex." Daedra lightly grabs Minthara's cheeks and throws her head back. Minthara continues to cough, looking away from the cleric. "That was only the nicest of lessons she ever gave me." Minthara's eyes briefly glance up to the Priestess. There is a look of disgust on her face. "She did so much worse to me that day. Forcing other things into my... other holes. It did not matter to her how much I screamed at her, begging her to stop. She felt it necessary to teach me the importance of bowing and obeying to my betters, and to learn where I stood in the pecking order. I suggest you do the same. I have no qualms with showing you the full extent of the lessons she gave me."

Minthara stares at the floor as Daedra swivels around her body and begins to walk away. "These... lessons. Who taught them to you?" she looks behind her as Daedra stops in her tracks. The Priestesses body tenses up, her mind being flown back into her past.

She turns around and faces the paladin, "Head Mistress of Arach Tinilith. Your mother." Minthara keeps a still face as a cold wave twists around her spine to the revelation. Of course Daedra would personally know her mother. Why would she not? If she made the same assessments of the cleric that Minthara has, her mother most certainly would have had keen interest in Daedra. It is clear now that Daedra has learned a thing or two from her mother. Her mother always was cruel, vicious, vindictive, and those lessons shine through in every act of brutality Daedra makes. How did Minthara miss that? More disturbingly, how far did this mentorship go?

The Priestess elicits a dark and taunting laugh at her, "I wonder what she would think of you right now, a Baenre on her knees for me. Watching me do to her daughter what she did to me. I cannot tell who she would be more angry with."

Minthara squints her eyes, carefully watching Daedra's body. The claws and the spikes retreat back inside her body, leaving behind open and bleeding wounds on her skin. A spontaneous sweat breaks out on her skin and her chest starts to heave. Her hands shake as her finger tips glow blue, sealing the open wounds. Somehow, Daedra has been overtaken by exhaustion.

Daedra's breath is extremely heavy, almost panting, "Now... I believe you have more... work to do today... I have given the acolytes their missions. Make sure you... stress how important it is that they do not... f*ck up." she says through heavy breaths. Minthara can audibly hear the Priestess swallow, she is struggling right now. This little training exercise was quite insightful indeed!

Minthara rubs her neck as she slowly stands up, "Yes, I will see to them. What will you do for the remainder of the day?" she says through a scratchy voice. She co*cks her head as the Priestesses eyes appear to have grown very heavy.

"I..." Daedra slaps a hand on the door frame, "... am going to take a nap."

Minthara slowly walks behind Daedra as the cleric starts to shuffle out of the training room. She straightens herself, give the appearance that she is doing perfectly fine as she walks through the temple. Her acolytes cannot catch a glimmer of weakness from their god. But Minthara can see the sweat trailing down the back of Daedra's neck, her body slightly shivering.

Minthara stands in the center of the temple, watching as Daedra returns to her private quarters in the back. The monstrous changes to her body are akin to that of a metamorphosis, or a partial one at least. And it must expend incredible energy to use. So much so that retracting them away immediately leaves her weak, and vulnerable. Perfect!

But, why only partially transform? What would have happened if Daedra were to be completely overtaken by whatever monster was poking through her skin? Minthara barely survived and Daedra had only changed one arm. Would she stand a chance fighting against the entire beast?

Minthara has so many questions, ones she wants answers now more out of fascination. When Daedra pulls out that monster, her strength increased tenfold, making her a much more dangerous being. Someone as small as her otherwise would not be capable of that kind of strength. Whatever it is, it is a good explanation behind the confidence she has when in the face of danger. The potency of her magic, her lightly quick reflexes, her thirst for blood and carnage, her ability to turn invisible on a whim, and that monster. Daedra doesn't just act like she's the most dangerous thing in the room, she actually is the most dangerous thing in the room.

What exquisite power she has! It is of no wonder now as to why the acolytes here worship her as much as they do. She truly is a demi-god! A Slayer!

Chapter 7: Conspirator

Chapter Text

The quill quickly scratches across the parchment as Minthara takes her notes. It has been roughly a month since she was made Daedra's paladin. At first, she had to share a bunk with some of the other acolytes as Daedra wanted to remind her of her place. As time has passed, she has learned how to begrudgingly obey any orders to come from the Priestess. At this point, it's practically an instinct and comes naturally to her. Whipping the other acolytes into shape has taken very little effort. But, on occasion, a few would not meet her standards and she would rightfully cull them from the temple. Thankfully, Daedra appreciates her efforts at ensuring all members of the cult are actually good killers.

Considering the work she has already done in the benefit of the temple in such a short time, Daedra finally rewarded Minthara with her own private quarters. She did not expect the accommodations to be comfortable given the beds that the acolytes sleep in are practically stone slabs. But the bed she has been given is rather luxurious and soft as silk.

In the time she has been with the cult, she has been observing and listening to the whispers she has heard around the cult and making careful notes. Conglomerating all her information in one place will be crucial to convincing the house matrons to form an army. But, it may not all be enough. She needs to learn more and the whispers she has overheard imply there is much she still does not know.

Her quill comes to a stop to the sound of footsteps approaching from the otherside of the door. She quickly flips through her notes and puts some dummy papers on top. These particular footsteps are very recognizable and stand out amongst the cultists, and she has had to learn them very carefully.

She hunches back over her desk and continues to write on the dummy papers, detailing plans that she has for a training regiment for new recruits. Her heart drums and her throat goes dry as anxiety swells in her chest. The person approaching her door most certainly cannot learn that she is essentially spying on them and intends to betray them when convenient.

Minthara flinches in her chair to the sound of her door slamming open, "Minnie!" Daedra obnoxiously yells out as she bursts into Minthara's private quarters. The paladin puffs her cheeks out, practicing a rhythmic breath to quell her anxiety. She turns around and watches as the Priestess flops herself on Minthara's bed, making herself comfortable.

"Yes?" Minthara speaks with a stern voice as she turns in her chair. Her eyes scan over Daedra. It has been quite some time since she has had a Priestess in her bedroom... in her bed. Daedra lies back on the bed and propped up on her elbows. Her legs are crossed but she bounces them back and forth on the bed.

"What are you doing today? Have any plans?"

"Yes." Minthara twists back in her chair, not allowing herself to become distracted by the drow. "I have been crafting a training regiment for the new acolytes, ensuring that they live up to your expectations."

"Excellent. I am going out to meet someone and I will need you to keep an eye on the temple. I may or may not return by the end of the night."

Minthara sets her quill against the desk and faces the Priestess once more, "Who is it that you are meeting?"

"He is a... business partner and we need to discuss the minutia of death cult office politics. Many things have happened within the Absolute and he would like to provide me with an update. One of his soldiers swung by earlier this morning."

"If you would not mind, I would prefer to accompany you."

Daedra raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Why?"

"You ask as if I have no reason to accompany you. Did your former paladin in Menzoberranzan not guard over you during meetings of importance?"

"No. She did not... Not unless I asked."

"I see. Then she did not do her job adequately. I will admit, there is still much for me to learn about how surface dwellers conduct their business. Considering the true nature of the affairs we are embroiled in, it is safer for me to surmise that conduct is not so different than it is at home. If that is the case, then I would not be doing my job properly to allow you to go alone."

Daedra chuckles to the paladin, "I have attended plenty of meetings with him all on my own in the past and I came home in one piece."

"Irrelevant. You did not have a paladin then, you have one now. You may have been safe in the past, but that may not always be true. Leave yourself vulnerable for too long, and those you perceive to be allies will take advantage of that vulnerability, cut you down when you least expect them to. If you appear before them with a paladin at your side, they will be less inclined to act upon any ill intent they may harbor for you."

Daedra laughs out before resting her eyes on the paladin. But Minthara's words are quite serious and she is not jesting. Although, Minthara's intent is not for Daedra's protection, but to learn more about who this business partner may be and determine how much of a threat they may be. Daedra's eyes look towards the floor, moving about as she considers Minthara's words.

The drow sighs, "Fine. You can come with me, if you insist. Let's go, we are heading out then." Daedra flips her legs in the air and pulls herself off the bed.

"Now?"

"Now." Daedra spins on the ball of her foot and leaves the bedroom. Minthara sighs to herself before standing out of the chair and following the drow through the temple.

Shades of yellow, orange, and red paint the sky as the sun begins to set. And yet, it is still so bright outside. The hood Daedra gave her is quite efficient at keeping the sun out of her eyes, but it still burns. Minthara is curious as to why Daedra even still had this hood. For someone who seems to harbor intense animosity for Lolth, she does like to hang on to the remnants of Menzoberranzan.

The Priestess walks before her, skipping her way through the streets. A light hum vibrates in her throat, singing a tune Minthara does not recognize. Daedra seems to be rather excited to meet whomever it is she is scheduled to meet. In the month she has been in the cult, she has never seen Daedra excited for any thing. Up until now, Minthara has only seen Daedra express pleasure when she is killing, torturing, or humiliating someone. She does seem to smile brightly every time she has done something with the intent to "remind" Minthara of her place. Although, it has been some time since Daedra has blessed her with a reminder.

Minthara furrows her brow as Daedra leads her across the bridge from the Lower City to Wyrm's Rock Fortress. She keeps her head down as she walks past the metal monsters, the Steel Watchers. These metal beasts dot the city, walking alongside the Flaming Fists on various patrols. The Watchers are terrifying, and marvelous! No one can stand a chance against these things, their strength is the most unnatural.

She has only ever seen it once, but she will never forget the sight of one of the city's undesirable's bones crunching under its hefty boot. Blood splattered everywhere, against the cobblestone, against the buildings, even against the faces of nearby bystanders. Many of them ran away, screaming in terror. But a few had lingered around in morbid curiosity, speaking words of gratitude for the Steel Watcher having protected them. Daedra herself may have been granted some level of immunity from their watchful eyes, but Minthara is unsure if she has been granted the same protection. So far, most of the work she has done for the temple is underground, away from their eyes. But that could change at any time.

Daedra leads Minthara up a spiral staircase and through an audience hall. There are a few soldiers in this room, adorned in black armor and gold helmets painted with a black hand.

The black hand of Bane? This city has followers of two of the Dead Three. So where is Myrkul?

Minthara follows behind Daedra as she walks up yet another spiral staircase. Whoever constructed this fort had a heavy insistence on a particular pattern. The two drow walk across the top ramparts of the fort. Minthara briefly pauses as her eyes look over the wall and down to the city of Rivington. Not quite the plateau she was hoping for, but the closest thing for now.

The people all look so small and insignificant, moving around like ants. Back at home, she could easily dictate what many of them were meant to do with their lives. After all, she was an enforcer of Lolth's voice, born to the most influential family. In spite of her current view, she doesn't have much say over the people here and her name does not have the same weight. But Daedra does have a say. A former voice of Lolth and the Chosen of Bhaal could wring this city of blood if she wanted. What's stopping her from doing that then? What does she intend to do with all their lives?

Minthara turns away from the wall and sees the Priestess has stopped up ahead, waiting for the paladin to catch up. She too is overlooking the wall, twisting one of the rings in her ears. Minthara approaches, but Daedra still looks over the wall.

She is so small, and tiny. All Minthara would need to do is grab onto one of her legs and flip her over the wall. No spell will save her from that fall. But, Minthara would not survive the attempt herself as a few Steel Watchers patrol the ramparts. They may not take too kindly to a murder occurring before them.

Minthara freezes in place as Daedra blinks and moves her eyes over to the paladin. The sun is hitting off them in just the right way, making the flame that dances within them burn brighter as they shine through the darkness in her hood.

You have very beautiful eyes...

Whatever... this moment it is that they are sharing... it is weird. And yet, pleasant. The breeze sings in the air just right, creating a chilling atmosphere against the setting sun. The features on the Priestesses face are soft, missing their usual scorn and contempt. One of the corners of Daedra's lips twitches, as if trying to fight a smile as she looks up to the paladin in front of her.

You are beautiful...

Daedra very quickly looks away and steps back from the wall, rapidly blinking her eyes. She coughs to clear her throat, "Come. Gorty is waiting for us."

Minthara follows behind Daedra and back into another building. The foyer of it has pillars, presenting prized possessions, as well as two Banite guards by the door.

Further in, there is a dining table, filled to the edges with food. A feast befitting a house Matron. A cold shiver runs up her spine, she has seen this before. This image is what got her into this predicament in the first place.

Minthara leans over, "This is a trap. Whoever you are set to meet may intend to kill you." she whispers her warning.

"It is okay. We always have dinner together while discussing work."

"As I spoke of earlier, how are you so sure your ally is not going to turn on you?"

Daedra spins around and faces the paladin. Her face is calm and gives way to no emotion, as usual. Even if she may not show it, Minthara knows the Priestess is no stranger to paranoia. It's not as if this is a new scenario for Daedra. She has seen her own fair share of bloody dinner parties, has hosted some herself, and was occasionally the reason they turned bloody.

"Oh, I anticipate he will eventually. He will have to for he is a loyal servant to his lord first. But, not like this and not right now."

"Mistr-"

"Aaah! It's my favorite little assassin!" a voice rings through the room as a man descends yet another spiral staircase in the back of the dinner hall. His black and gold coat flaps around his ankles as he descends. He wears a golden gauntlet on one of his hands, secured within it is a purple stone.

Strange. It has a similar design and resonance as the red stone in Daedra's dagger, and the pink stone in the chest piece of General Thorm's armor. This man must be her co-conspirator, along with General Thorm. Perhaps he is the one who is tied with Myrkul.

"Gorty." Daedra says back. She has a smile on her face, but whatever is behind that smile is not necessarily happiness. Minthara cannot place what it is though.

"I see you have brought a guest." He waves a hand over to the paladin. But she just stands in place, watching him.

"Yes, I did!" Daedra sits in one of the chairs, leaning back and kicking her legs up on the table. "Her name is Minthara, but she prefers to be called 'Minnie'." Minthara taps her foot in place, annoyed by Daedra's false claim.

"I see." the man looks back to the cleric, "And I presume that she is of one of those noble houses you spoke of? Is she to assist with securing an alliance between the Absolute and Menzoberranzan?"

"No. This one is aalllll just for me." Daedra chuckles with a sickly, mocking squeal, "I stole her from her mottherrrr."

The man's eyes move back to Minthara. Fury dances on the top of her skin as he looks her over. "I see. Minthara, allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Lord Enver Gortash, duke of the proud city of Baldur's Gate. Please, have a seat. You are an honored guest in my hall, feel free to eat anything you would like." Gortash waves a hand over the table, inviting the paladin to sit. She has been through this before. She will not repeat her mistakes.

"No." she says, adding in extra rasp into her throat.

"Very well." Goratsh sits at the head of the table, twisting his chair to face the Bhaalspawn. "Daedra, we can never be too cautious with our personal guards. If she ever becomes a burden, I could put you in contact with someone who can take care of it. You may even get something in exchange for offering her over."

"Ha! You mean sell her to Zariel? No. I take care of my own problems. And I can assure you," Daedra cranes her neck to look at the paladin, a smug smile on her face, "she has learned how to obey. Right?"

"Yes, Mistress." Minthara speaks over to the High Priestess, hands clasp behind her back.

Daedra nods her head and wrinkles her nose with amusem*nt. Through the air she mouths her words of approval, Good girl. Minthara clenches her jaw to contain her rage. Daedra is sitting in the chair in an unbalanced position. It would not be that hard to walk up behind her and snap her damn neck, dispatch of Gortash and the Banites. The Priestess flicks her head towards the entrance of the dining hall. Minthara steps backwards and places her back against the wall next to the door. Her, along with a Banite standing on the other side of the door, will stand guard over this meeting.

Daedra reaches across the table, grabbing at some of the meat steaming on a silver platter. She is quite the carnivore as all she seems to eat is meat. The food very well could be poisoned and Daedra herself has already considered the likelihood of this man turning on her. But, if the food truly was poisoned, Daedra would not dig in so gluttonously.

"Much has happened since we last spoke." Gortash speaks to Daedra, grabbing at one of the glasses of wine. "For starters, Ketheric is beginning to amass a tiny army of goblins. He even found a mad spider roaming around in those cursed lands."

"A mad spider?"

"Yes. His description of it was peculiar, I have never heard of anything like it before. Its lower body was a spider but still had the torso of a man. His eyes-"

Daedra groans in disgust, a feeling Minthara shares with her. "A drider. Tell the Bone Lord to just kill that thing."

"A drider? Interesting. You don't seem to be too much of a fan."

"No. That thing is an abomination. It is better off dead. We do not need its filth tainting the ranks. We have enough trash with the goblins."

"Then I will inform Ketheric in my next correspondence. Speaking of, Ketheric has given me an update on the brain. It is docile and submissive, ready and willing to take whatever order we give it. I have to say, you were brilliant to put that crown atop its head. With its presence, our honorable general and his team of necromancers has churned out a small batch of 'True Souls', members who can be nothing but loyal to our cause."

"Mmmmmm." Daedra mumbles as she takes a sip of the wine. "And what of my sister?" she asks, circling her finger around the rim of the wine glass.

"Kressa's experimentations on your sister have proved enlightening. Without them, we never would have been able to fully comprehend how the tadpoles work or how to properly utilize these new True Souls. In fact, Orin counts among the first to earn that title. The first batch is still a test batch, working out the kinks."

"So, Orin is still alive..."

"Yes, but barely. Although, I am not too informed on her current condition. If you would prefer, I could have Ketheric provide me an update on her status." Gortash leans over the table, building a small plate of food.

"What about your 'magnum opus'?" Daedra says before shoving more sliced meat into her mouth.

"It is still under construction. Thanks to the schematics Zariel gave me with the infernal engine and the current work with the Steel Watch, the Gondians are running a few experiments for me. I am still awaiting additional information and assistance from the necromancer at Moonrise."

Minthara listens to the conversation carefully, digesting every word to see if there is something of any value. The more she learns, the less everything makes sense. There are parties and actors coming together in ways that they shouldn't be, or in ways they otherwise naturally would not. She's missing something.

Her eyes fall on the Priestess as she shares words with the Duke. What does she get out of all of this? What is she planning, what is she scheming? What does she want to do, and why hasn't she already done it? What is she waiting for?

Daedra has become an enigma that she cannot make sense of, and it infuriates Minthara to no end. If she was just another Priestess, just some other drow, none of this would be so difficult. But this drow who has ruined her life, has the power of gods flowing in her veins and is deserving of veneration. She debases herself wading through the muck of this city, when she was born to rule.

Minthara's eyes move from the Priestesses face to the table. She feels a twisting pinch in her chest as Gortash grabs onto Daedra's hand. In the month Minthara has stood by Daedra's side as her paladin, this is the first time she has ever truly wanted to kill someone in her name. How easy it would be for her to dash across this table, slam her sword on his wrist, teach him not to touch what does not belong to him.

She squints her eyes, looking at the Priestesses wonderful face. The pinch in Minthara's stomach grows into a knot as the cleric smiles back to the duke. From their faces, it is obvious Gortash holds great affection for Daedra, but she does not reciprocate that affection, at least not to the same degree that he does.

The nerves in her chest tingle as the cleric looks back to her, "You may leave, Minnie. Gorty and I have more... private matters to discuss." Daedra flicks her hand, "Go on back to the temple and resume whatever plans you had."

"As your paladin, it is my duty to ensure your safety. At least allow me to escort you home when-"

The red in Daedra's eyes pierce through the room, paralyzing Minthara in her place. No, something inside her is compelling her to stop and listen to command, "When I tell you to do something," the Priestess says with a low tone, eyebrows knitted together in a tempered rage, "I expect you to do it. Go home. I will speak to you later."

As she finishes speaking, Gortash looks to his own knight and nods his head. In an unintended unison, Minthara and the Banite bow to their betters before turning and walking out of the dining hall together.

Minthara marches through the fort and back on the streets of the Lower City. Her body is hot and fills with... rage? Contempt? No, none of those are right. Whatever it is she is feeling, she doesn't like it!

But she cannot get the image of Gortash fondly holding onto the Priestesses hand. Why does she care? Daedra has made it quite clear that she does not belong to anyone and does what she wants. But she is choosing the wrong person.

Minthara really shouldn't feel this way, or so she thinks. Daedra has done nothing but hurt her, and cut her, and humiliate her since day one. Although, Daedra has never gone out of her way to do these things to her. Her torment was always meant to be a course correction, to get Minthara to behave in the way she expects. Minthara can respect that, it is not as if it is the first time she's had to learn hard lessons.

In spite of the torment and the rage she does feel, Minthara does not want Daedra to do with Gortash what she thinks the two of them are about to do. And she does not know why the thought of it disturbs her.

The acolyte struggles and squirms beneath her as Minthara presses her knee against his throat. She tries to keep the pressure light, but pushes more and more. A sad*stic smile spreads on her face as she can already feel the crunch of his windpipe. He tries to scream, but it does nothing but squeak out of his throat. Despite the pain Minthara has experienced getting here, she really does enjoy her time within the cult of Bhaal. It is starting to feel as if she belongs here.

He lifts a hand, furiously tapping at her leg, begging for mercy. If she hadn't already disposed of so many new recruits, she would not have relented. But, the numbers are staggering and the temple still needs its worshipers.

Minthara stands off the Bhaalist as he grabs his throat and starts to cough. "You have promise, but you rely too much on your potions." She reaches a hand down and grabs the acolytes hand, pulling him to his feet. "What are you going to do when you run out? Or you have an opponent, such as myself, who can throw you to the ground before you can take the next?" the acolyte struggles with a pained breath, his hand gently massaging his throat. "Remember, you are only alive because I showed you mercy. A real opponent will not show you the same courtesy. Now go." The paladin flicks her hand and dismisses the acolyte out of the training room.

Minthara pinches the ridge of her nose, releasing an exasperated sigh.

That one will die the moment he steps out of the temple. It is of sheer luck he made it this far. Perhaps I, or Daedra, should speak with Sarevok, discuss making entry into the cult more difficult so not just anyone can wander in. Although, his potions may be useful. The temple could take advantage of an alchemist.

She sighs to herself and leaves the training room after the acolyte. Darkness has fallen over the temple and the moon shines through the hole in the cave wall this temple was constructed into.

Down the main steps of the temple, returns the High Priestess. Minthara stands in place, her eyes following Daedra as she walks through the temple.

"You look like you had fun beating up the new recruits." the cleric chirps over to Minthara as she walks by.

"Yes, I did." Minthara follows behind Daedra into her personal chambers to give her report. "There are a few strong candidates, others who still need molding, and a few who would be better served as sacrifices on the altar." Minthara looks around Daedra's quarters as she stands by the wall. She has never been in here before.

The Priestesses room is dark and the only source of light is a hollow crystal, powered by the flame burning inside it, giving the room a deep purple glow. The bed is far against the wall opposite from the door and looks much bigger and more comfortable than the one Minthara had. Looking at the patterns on the frame, Daedra more than likely imported it from Menzoberranzan. She feels almost nostalgic seeing all the remnants of her home here. It has only been two months for her, but decades for Daedra.

Minthara takes a breath in, ready to continue her report on the new recruits, but her lungs stop. Daedra has no sense of shame and she takes her coat off and throws it on the bed. She reaches her arms to her waist and pulls her shirt over her head, exposing her body to the paladin. Minthara does not look away and silently appreciates Daedra's body as the cleric continues to undress.

What a finely sculpted piece of art she is. She is as slender and tiny as Minthara had always imagined her to be. There are a handful of scars decorating her body, proof of previous conquests and victories. Her eyes trail down to the cleric's legs, looking at the meat on them. Daedra is a cleric and a ranger with incredible dexterity. Minthara's heart throbs in her chest, imagining how she would like to test that flexibility. To lay Daedra flat on her back, hooking her hands behind the cleric's knees and push her legs down until -

Minthara furrows her brow as Daedra moves her wavy white hair and exposes her neck. It's almost missable against her gray skin, but there is a deep purple marking alongside the most sensitive part of her neck. Purple and red bruises decorate her body, places where someone placed their lips against her, marking her as their territory. A stupid rage overtakes her.

"Why do you lay with Gortash?" Minthara closes her eyes and winces to herself.

Why did I ask that?

Daedra laughs out, "Mostly because he is there. And I have needs." the Priestess walks over to the wardrobe and pulls out a black robe with purple stitching. The stitching creates a very distinct pattern all around the robe of a spiders web.

"If it was a matter of convenience and satisfying primal needs, why take him when you could have anyone in this temple? They are all ready and willing to throw themselves at you, to please you."

Daedra slips the robe over her shoulders and ties the string around her waist. She turns her head, a coy smile on her face. "Hm? Do you spend a lot of time thinking about who I sleep with? Is there someone particular in mind that you think I should f*ck instead?"

Minthara tries to keep her face as emotionless as possible, ignoring the heat searing at the tips of her ears, "It is just a curiosity. Naturally, a Priestess of your station would take a lover, many even. Today was just the first I had seen you take one, and only just one. As your sword, it is only right I know of those who are closest to you and share a bed with, most especially ones you conclude may betray you."

Yes, that is why I asked. No other reason.

Daedra crawls into the bed, propping her back against some pillows and crossing her legs before her. "To the religious zealots of this temple, I am nothing more to them than the face of their god. Since none of them can touch Bhaal, they try to touch me instead." Minthara's eyes look to one of Daedra's legs poking out from underneath her robe.

Could you truly blame them? You are powerful... and exquisite...

"They constantly bend over backwards trying to please me, get a taste of me, it's pathetic. Sure, I take advantage of their desperation, but I do not care to give them what they desire. I really only lie with Gorty if I have a reason to go to the fort, or he has reason to come here. That and many people in this city and the surface fetishize drow and I do not care for it. I blame those damn twins in Rivington, I ought to just kill them." Daedra starts to bounce her leg, losing herself in thoughts of murder.

"So what makes Gortash so different? Why him and not anybody else?"

"He is different because he isn't a Bhaalist. He does not worship me, or see me as a god, or a child of a god. I am not a monster or an angel to him. He was the first truly kind person to me when I got on the surface and he and I have been through so much together. For the longest time it really was just me and him. Sure, he has grown a little boring with his age and does not satisfy me quite like he used to, but he makes up for it in other ways. If I am to share my bed with someone, I would prefer it to be with someone who appreciates me for who I am rather than what I am."

"Why do you continue to bother with someone who does not provide you with the pleasure you deserve? You deserve to be worshiped as you are someone worth worshiping. You are, after all, the High Priestess. Worship and veneration is something you have earned by rights. Fetishized or not, at least the cultists would make an attempt to ensure you were satisfied."

Daedra chuckles, "You must spend a lot of time thinking about my pleasure. Do you have any ideas you would like to share since it is clearly on your mind so often?"

Minthara's ears burn red and her cheeks flush. She twists her face into a scowl, trying to fight off the rush of embarrassment. She is not doing a good job saving herself from Daedra's accusations as they are more correct than Minthara would like to admit.

The Priestess climbs out of the bed and saunters over to the paladin, "That is what makes you so refreshing to have around. You understand me to a degree no one else does, not even Gorty. We lived in the same city, went to the same school, worshiped and acted in the name of the same god, and even received painful lessons at the hands of the same woman. Sure, our lives were different, but we are more the same than you realize. I am not a fetish to you and you most certainly do not bend over backwards to please me. You just do what you normally would do as if we were back at home. You do so little, but you do please me."

Minthara slightly flinches as Daedra trails a finger down her arm before lightly squeezing. She can feel the heat of arousal build in her body, her imagination running wild with all the cruel and pleasurable things she wants to do to the Priestesses body.

"I must say, it is comforting having a paladin around again. Knowing there is someone strong and capable close by who will take care of me." Daedra sighs as she turns around and returns to her bed. "Goodnight, Minthara."

Minthara nods her head and promptly leaves Daedra's private quarters. Her body fills with embarrassment and heat burns in her ears as she walks through the temple. She rubs a hand over her face as if trying to wipe it away. Why did she even ask all those questions? Why does she care so much about who Daedra shares her bed with? Daedra ruined her damn life, stole her home, stole her god, stole her oath. Minthara should hate her. And yet, she cannot stop fantasizing about crawling into the Priestesses bed and between her legs.

Chapter 8: Bloody Reminder

Chapter Text

Another month has passed in the temple and Minthara has completely settled in and made her place. Many have come to recognize that she is essentially Daedra's right hand and an enforcer of her word. They know and understand that if they do not live up to expectations, the paladin will remind them of what they are. Continued failure means they can either die quickly by her blade, or slowly on Daedra's altar.

Whenever Daedra is not around, the cultists sometimes come to her instead with their petty little problems and seek guidance. For a murder cult, all too many of these members are very whiny. Considering the conversations Minthara has with them, she can understand why the Priestess often grows annoyed with them. It is remarkable that Daedra does listen to them and helps them through whatever issues they are having, rather than outright killing them to shut them up. Then again, she is still a cleric at the end of the day and there is more to her job than just murder. Minthara admires the patience Daedra has for them, but some of these losers don't deserve her patience. They barely even deserve to be in her presence.

Minthara is still observing everything and making notes of whatever information she finds useful. With what she does have, she feels it enough that it may be able to convince the matrons at home to mobilize against the Absolute.

The only thing that terrifies her is facing her mother. How is her mother going to respond to the fact that Minthara was tortured and lost numerous fights against her former pupil? How would she feel that her former student turned from Lolth and embraced Bhaal? Did she know Daedra was Bhaalspawn? All questions that will be answered as a later time. All she needs to answer now is how to return to the Underdark, and when would be the best time to leave.

To her surprise, there is an ache in her heart at the thought of leaving. She has come to really enjoy her time in the temple. The only person who's standards she has to live up to are Daedra's, and she meets them flawlessly as all she has to do is be herself.

That, and she has come to enjoy being around Daedra. It is a strange situation to be in to constantly want to be in the presence of someone she hates with her entire being. Sometimes, Minthara feels almost as if she is addicted to the cleric. She can never get enough. She needs to know more about Daedra, but also wants to know more about her.

In an attempt to learn all about Daedra as she can, Minthara has lingered around the cleric longer than usual. Conversations between them have become more casual and often about topics not related to death cults. She even at times follows Daedra into her private quarters to continue their conversations as neither of them want to lose the others company just yet. If she's lucky, the Priestess would sometimes undress in front of her as she changes into her night robe. And Minthara would graciously consume the sight of her body.

She walks towards Daedra's private quarters to deliver her daily report. There is a strange flood of emotions in her heart, ones that really should not mix together. She hates Daedra, despises her, and still wants her dead. But the idea of cutting off the Priestesses head makes her doubtful and hesitant, wishful that she could find another way to have her cake and eat it too. That, she should not be feeling. Daedra has slapped her, belittled her, humiliated her, degraded her, beat her, and nearly killed her. And yet, Minthara can't fight the allure of the Priestess, she craves to be with her.

Walking through the doors to the Priestesses chambers, Daedra sits on the edge of her bed, sharpening one of her knives.

"You are preparing for another hunt." Minthara greets the drow.

"Yes, I am. And it is going to be a fun one tonight." Daedra speaks with elation in her voice as she keeps her focus on sharpening the knife.

"I see. I would like to join you tonight, I have always been curious how you conduct your hunts."

Daedra keeps her head crooked down, but her eyes shift up to the paladin. A smile threatens its way onto her face. She blinks her eyes and returns to the task before her. "Hunting is usually a solitary job for me. Others generally tend to impede on what I need to do."

"Then it is good I am not a dumb footed duergar who fails to pay proper attention to their surroundings."

Daedra chuckles. There it is again, that coiling jump in the pits of Minthara's stomach. The Priestess rests the flat of her blade against her lap and looks at the paladin before her. "No, you are not. You are far better at maintaining stealth than the rest of the morons here. And you have gotten so good at doing what I tell you." she bites her lip, eyes looking all over Minthara. "Fine, you can come with me. Here, let me give you something."

The Priestess pushes herself off her bed, flipping and twirling her dagger in the air as she walks to a wardrobe further in the back. Minthara cranes her neck to peek inside as Daedra opens up the doors. Hanging in the center of it is a heavy armor set that a knight would wear. No, armor that a paladin would wear. Daedra reaches behind the armor set and grabs a thick cloak and a dagger.

"Here, you will need this." Daedra flips the knife in her hand, holding the blade between her fingers and pointing the hilt towards the paladin. "You can keep your sword with you if you wish, but you will not need it." With the other hand, she flicks the cloak over Minthara's shoulder. "And that should be enough to cover up your armor and your face. It is best that no one identifies either of us while we are out."

"Thank you." Minthara takes the blade from Daedra. The blade itself is green and has a winding pattern to it. And the hilt of it has a decorative skull in the center. She analyzes the magic emanating from it. If need be, she can tap into the daggers magic to be able to hold a person in place. Excellent! She then holds the cloak out in front of her. It was clearly meant to cover up an armor set, but it is old and raggedy. Almost as old as the coat Daedra wears herself. It has been patched up numerous times and dutifully taken care of. There is a thicker patch along the center of the back, almost as if to hide something on it. A former house sigil perhaps?

She watches as Daedra walks to the corner of the room and throws her quiver and bow onto her back. "Are you ready?" Daedra approaches the paladin as she wraps the cloak around her shoulders and flips it over her head.

Minthara steps back and waves a hand towards the door, "Lead the way."

Daedra chuckles as she walks up to Minthara. The coil in her stomach tightens and feels her heartbeat in her throat as the Priestess reaches inside the cloak and pulls on a pair of strings. She pulls the strings across Minthara's chest and ties them together, completely obscuring her armor.

She taps on Minthara's chest, "There, now you are ready. Let's go, Minnie."

Minthara holds onto the edge of the sewer cover as she places it back over the hole. The air of the city is so much fresher than the sewers and the cave that the temple is carved into. She claps her hands to wipe it of any dirt and looks behind her. The Priestess leans against a building, the hood of her hunter's coat covering her face as she looks up and down the street.

"Daedra?" Minthara asks as she approaches behind the drow. As she towers behind Daedra, she looks down the street. The Lower City is so much busier at night than Rivington is. The torches stand tall in the street, providing a soft and warm glow to the surroundings. Since there are less people, there are less Fist patrols, and less Steel Watchers.

"Hm?" the Priestess squeaks as she continues to look up and down the street.

"These hunts that you engage in, are completely separate from the activities of the cult. The kills that you capture, you never bring them home as sacrifices to your father. Why? What do you gain by killing them?"

The Priestess chuckles, her head looking up to the sky. "The only semblance of control. I have these... urges. Urges that if I do not satisfy of my own accord, they will consume my consciousness and I will be compelled to feed them anyway. I have been struggling with them my entire life, but I have created a system that works."

"These urges compel you to kill?"

"Not just kill. Any act of violence that spills blood, causes harm, or leads to destruction is enough. Although, it is more enjoyable and pleasing to kill, yes." Daedra steps away from the building.

She walks to the center of the alley and her head bounces between the two buildings. Daedra suddenly breaks into a sprint and leaps up on the side of the building, grabbing onto a very thin ledge. She runs her legs up the wall before jumping to the building on the other side of the alley. Minthara just stands back in awe as Daedra climbs these buildings like a squirrel jumping between trees in a forest.

Daedra sits on the ledge of the roof and looks down to Minthara, waiting for her to climb her way up. Minthara shakes her head, looking at the walls. The ledges are so tiny and hardly enough to grab onto. How did Daedra manage to do that? Minthara may be athletic herself, but she knows she cannot climb up that building in the same way the ranger has.

Minthara looks up to Daedra as she sits on the roof, her feet tapping against the wall as she waits for the paladin to join her. Minthara lifts her foot up and mumbles an incantation to herself. As she steps her foot down, she instantly teleports to the roof of the building and stands next to the Priestess.

Daedra squeaks out her laugh as she looks at the paladin towering above her. "Clever." the Priestess says as she stands up.

Minthara chuckles in response, "I would have presumed a ranger such as yourself would have been able to perform a similar trick."

Daedra twists on her foot and starts walking across the rooftop. "I can. However, my energies are better spent on other magics. If it is something I can do without the use of magic, then I would prefer not to use my magic. I prefer to save it for when I need it." Minthara nods her head as she follows behind the Priestess. Sparing one's spell slots until they are truly necessary is a decision that Minthara can admire. Magic may be Daedra's most powerful skill, but it is not her only skill and she is still highly useful in battle even if she were to expend all her magic.

Daedra speaks back to the paladin, "How good are you at running and jumping?"

"I am not a parkour master as you seemingly are, but I would not have made it this far in life if I was unable to perform the simple physical activity of running and jumping."

"Good." Daedra twists on her feet and faces Minthara. A light blue light fills the Priestesses eyes and magic floods into her hands. She twirls one arm in the air while keeping the other arm flat against her chest. Daedra then points a hand out to Minthara as her other hand flicks into the air. Energy surges through the bodies of the two drow. Minthara lightly bounces on the balls of her feet, feeling the energy focusing on her legs. "There, you should be able to run much faster and jump further than you usually do. Watch your step, and you better keep up."

She quickly twists on her feet again and immediately begins to sprint across the rooftop. It is impressive the speed in which Daedra can go from standing motionless to a full sprint. Minthara kicks up her feet and runs behind Daedra, already lagging behind. In the distance, she watches as the Priestess leaps into the air. She moves her hands forward as if she is grabbing onto an invisible ledge in the air and pulls her arms back, throwing herself through the air. As Daedra lands on the roof of the next building, she falls into a roll so that the momentum doesn't come to a sudden stop and she can keep going.

As Minthara nears the ledge of the building, she focuses as much power into her legs, preparing to jump. She bends her knees and leaps into the air. All of time slows to a snails crawl as she flies through the air. Her eyes instinctively look below her and a light panic sparks in her chest as she realizes how high off the ground she is. She looks forward once more, twisting her arms in the air to keep herself balanced and upright. As she begins her descent, the sparks of panic grows stronger as she feels she is too far from the ledge of the next building.

Panic is replaced with exhilaration as she falls into a roll and returns to her feet. Minthara begins to laugh between heavy breaths as she continues to run behind Daedra. The wind slips inside the hood of her cloak, cooling her skin as she begins to work up a sweat. She ignores her heat racing inside her chest. It has been too long since she has gone on a hunt.

The two drow continue to run along the rooftops through the city. Thanks to her height advantage, it does not take too long for Minthara to catch up and Daedra and keeps close to her. But Daedra does not making following after her easy. She has a habit of suddenly turning and Minthara would sometimes slip along the roof shingles. On occasion, the ranger would flip as she leaps across buildings, but lands in a spot that Minthara does not anticipate. Minthara is unable to correct that error until she lands on a completely different rooftop and has to jump again to keep up with Daedra.

Everything about this seems so normal. Running at top speed while on the hunt to dispose of someone, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She may be acting in the name of a different god, fulfilling the orders of a different Priestess, but Minthara has yet to do anything she hasn't done in Menzoberranzan and tonight is not out of the ordinary. She is excited to see what else Daedra has planned.

Daedra suddenly falls to her knees and slides across the roof, coming to a complete stop. Minthara slow her run and crouches next to Daedra, her chest heaving to catch her breath and heart thumping against her ribcage. Daedra's breath is only mildly heavy and she pats Minthara on her back while she attempts to recover hers.

Minthara follows the rangers gaze down to the ground. They overlook a plaza with a fountain in the center of it. She can hear the water splashing around as it dances in the fountain. Most of the buildings seem rather ordinary, but off to the side is a large and decorated building. A few people linger around in the area and there are still a few merchants trying to sell the last of their goods for the day.

"What is the... significance of this locale..." Minthara asks between heavy breaths.

In just a few short seconds, Daedra has completely recovered her breath. "During the day, there are wizards here who constantly demonstrate their magic skills. I do not often wander around this area but, on occasion, my errands bring me out here. Those wizards are so damn annoying with their incessant incantations and resummoning their familiars over and over. I have been stalking them for some time now and the wizards usually hold study sessions in Sorcerous Sundries every third day of the week." Minthara follows the point of Daedra's finger as she identifies the decorated building near the edge of the plaza. "I would like to eradicate them all, give this plaza some peace and quiet for a change."

Killing someone for no reason other than they are a nuisance? Amusing.

Minthara has killed her own fair share of wizards in her life and for no other reason than she could. Like Daedra, she too finds those spellcasters to be annoying. In her experience, she has found that their spines snap quite easily with the most minor amount of force.

The two drow wait in silence on the rooftop. Minthara keeps her focus on the plaza, waiting for any magical scholars to exit the building of interest. As she looks towards the ground, the cleric looks over at her through the corners of her eyes.

The last she had been on a hunt was with her sister. The two of them rarely ever got along, but they did always hunt with unspoken synergy. Her sister was the only person she ever allowed to tag along as she was the only one who met Daedra's standards. And despite the training Daedra had put her through, Orin just barely met her standards.

Minthara is nothing like Orin, in which the only trait they have in common is finding pleasure in killing. But Minthara's idea of a pleasurable kill is fundamentally different than Orin's, or Daedra's. Daedra needs to feed an urge, Minthara likes to win.

Daedra looks back to the now empty plaza. Without intending to, Minthara has excelled far beyond her expectations and has come to enjoy having the paladin by her side. Watching Minthara spill blood in her name, and to do so willingly. Following her orders without a question. It took her some time, but Daedra is happy that Minthara has come around and no longer defies her and willfully obeys. As much as she has enjoyed forcing Minthara to her knees, humiliating and degrading her, she much prefers not to be violent with Minthara.

Daedra has put in a lot of effort orchestrating events just to get her up here. She hangs on to the slightest flicker of hope that Minthara is the key she needs, just as she saw in that other thread, of another story, of another life.

In the distance, people begin to trickle out of Sorcerous Sundries. The ranger leans forward, carefully watching as they stand around in the plaza, continuing with their whimsical conversations. As they disperse in various directions, Daedra pulls her bow and begins following the wizards along the rooftops. Of the eight wizards, they split into two groups. One group walk behind Sorcerous Sundries and down the hill, further into the Lower City, and the other walks towards an alley.

Minthara pulls the knife Daedra gave her and follows behind her on the rooftops. As they walk, she realizes the only footsteps that she can hear are her own. The ranger is completely silent. Daedra comes to a sudden stop and reaches into her quiver. She nocks two arrows and aims them into the plaza, the tips of them glowing with radiant energy. Minthara continues along the buildings, following the four wizards as they shuffle into the alley. The paladin looks behind her, awaiting her orders from the Priestess.

She has angled her bow to its side, moving it around in the air. Her back begins to straighten out as she pulls the string back. The ranger holds it next to her face, close enough to kiss it. In a graceful motion, her fingers glide off the string and brush the side of her cheek.

Minthara watches as the arrows soar entirely across the plaza. At first she believes that a single arrow won't be enough to take out the wizards, and the two arrows will not be enough against four targets. But these are not ordinary arrows. As soon as they hit their targets, they begin to bounce back and forth between all the wizards, repeatedly striking them and carving out their flesh. They all flop to the ground, dead before they can even scream.

What a delightful arrow!

Minthara looks back down the alley. Seems these four wizards did not hear their comrades dying. Good.

A breeze of air blows past her as Daedra dashes past her and along the edge of the rooftop, looking down the alley. The paladin follows behind as Daedra swaps her bow for her knives.

The two drow walk ahead along the roof, waiting for the wizards to continue walking into the ambush they have no idea that is waiting for them. Minthara cannot resist the sanguine smile itching its way onto her face, her heart beating with the thrill of this hunt.

Daedra raises a hand and flicks her wrist in the air. A small bubble plots itself around the wizards, silencing whatever words they were speaking with each other. They all come to a stop having immediately noticed the silence. There is no time to lose.

Daedra stands up straight and stretches her arms out, standing in a T shape as her daggers glow with radiance and drip with necrotic energy. She lets the wind blow her off the roof and her body gracefully falls forward in a leap of faith. If she hadn't entered into silence, her dreadful laugh would be audible as she flips through the air and down to the wizards.

Minthara looks below her and quickly adjusts her position. It's a tall fall, but not a dangerous one if she can land it right. But two of the wizards seem to have grown suspicious and reach for their quarterstaffs as they prepare to run out of the silence.

The paladin pulls on the magic of the dagger and points two fingers forward at each of the wizards. In an instant, a purple energy overtakes them, freezing and locking their bodies in place. Minthara takes a deep breath before jumping off the roof herself. While airborne, she channels a smite onto the dagger, her eyes focused on the wizard furthest away.

As she nears the ground, she plunges the knife into the wizards neck, using his body to catch the momentum of her fall. Feeling solid ground beneath her feet once more, she unleashes the smite through the knife buried into the wizards neck. His head is unable to withstand the unrelenting force of the thunderous smite, and his head blows into chunks. Minthara smiles to the silence of brain matter splattering against her face, her cloak, the ground, and the body of the other wizard.

But the other wizard manages to shake herself of the hold Minthara had on her. She takes a step backwards, her panicked breath inaudible. The wizard turns around in the other direction, ready to run, but she only makes it two steps forward before she spots the other drow repeatedly stabbing into the chest of one of her recently murdered comrades.

She turns back around and faces the paladin who slowly marches down the alley towards her. The wizard puts her hands before her face, attempting to scream out pleas of mercy. Too bad no one can hear her, and no one cares. In a last ditch effort, the wizard tries to run once more and evade the paladin whose eyes fill with bloodlust. For all their intelligence, wizards often do prove to be fools.

Minthara slides on her foot and into the wizards path. As the wizard tries to dodge around her, Minthara plunges her knife into the wizards belly. Her frail body is unable to resist the thunderous smite and her inner organs are blasted out of her back. Blood forces its way up her throat and begins to leak out of her mouth and her eyes. The paladin retracts her knife and throws the freshly made corpse onto the ground. Glorious!

Minthara turns around to face the ranger. Daedra is still hunched over one of the corpses. She walks around to the front of the ranger who seems to have ripped open the wizards abdomen. Her hands are deep inside his body, his intestines being squeezed at through her fingers. Daedra is no ordinary killer, she is a Bhaalspawn. And it is now clear that killing provides her a carnal, near org*smic release.

The ranger's eyes slowly move up and look at the paladin, her hands still deep in gore. She looks around her and confirms that all wizards are dead. She removes one bloody hand from the pits of the corpse and twists her wrist, releasing the silence bubble before immediately diving back in the body for more.

"Finally, there will be silence in the plaza." Daedra says with a hot and heavy breath, her body beginning to shiver with ecstasy as she continues to play around with the corpse. Minthara may not be interested in playing around with gore, but she does find pleasure in killing. And she wants more. She shifts the weight between her feet, attempting to ignore the heat building within her own body as her eyes linger on the ranger's face.

"There are more wizards in this city. More may come to replace these ones, or even attempt to track their kills and seek vengeance."

Daedra momentarily stops and looks up to the paladin. Minthara's breath hiccups in her throat. The things she wants to do with Daedra, and to her.

"Yes, there will be more wizards." Daedra looks around all the corpses, her mind spinning with ideas. "I could always kill them all, but it is too early for that."

"We should hang them up by their entrails in the center of the plaza, let their blood flow within the decorative water of that fountain."

Daedra whips her head back around to Minthara, her eyes squinting with scrutiny, "Hmph. Putting bodies on display like it's an art show. Sounds like something my sister would do."

"It would not be an art installation. Wizards are spineless, yet behave as if they are untouchable. They have done nothing in their measly lives to earn the arrogance to think so highly of themselves. Let these sagging corpses serve as an example of how weak they truly are, install in them the fear that anyone can annihilate them with ease, irregardless of how powerful they believe themselves to be."

Daedra sits back and squeaks to herself about Minthara's suggestion. Killing these eight wizards may embolden the other wizards of the tower. But these mangled corpses may be enough to make them falter, prevent them from seeking out the two drow that no one knows are responsible for their deaths.

The ranger removes her hands from the body, blood dripping off her fingertips. "Alright." She waves a hand to the rest of the corpses, blood flickering as she moves it through the air. "You're the strong one. Pick the bodies up and move them to the fountain."

"With pleasure." Minthara steps forward, reaching down to grab onto the body underneath Daedra's feet. She is very careful with picking this body up as flipping it over will cause its intestines to spill out.

The body is light and easy to carry, a given considering how weak wizards typically are. It does not take much time for Minthara and Daedra to drag the bodies to the center of the plaza and place them around and in the fountain. The hardest part was attempting to impale one of the bodies on the tip of the fountain.

Stepping away and looking at their handiwork, it truly is a piece of art even if it is not their intention. The water soon turns a sickly red as it begins to mix with the blood of the corpses. The intestines of the corpse Daedra had cut open spills out of its guts, swimming in the bloodied waters. Daedra also thought it a nice touch to remove the tongues from all the wizards and burn them. In the event that they are revived somehow, they will never be able to speak another spell again.

Daedra stands in the center of the plaza, watching the bloody water dance around in the fountain. Minthara spends no time appreciating the new decor as her eyes are stuck looking at the Priestess. Her imagination runs out of her control with the lustful thoughts that she has, her body running hot from all the carnage.

Daedra taps her hand against Minthara's arm, "Come on, let's go home." she spins on her foot and begins to walk back through the buildings.

Minthara follows behind, her eyes looking at each and every body part in her view. How she wants to throw Daedra into the depths of ecstasy, provide her with a greater pleasure than the hunt. To leave her breathless with her legs shaking, digging her claws into the paladins back, make the Priestess whine and moan out Minthara's name all night long.

The temple itself has fallen silent as all the members have crawled into their bunks for the night. Minthara keeps her eyes glued to Daedra as she escorts her to her private chambers in the back of the temple. Her breath has kicked up with arousal as her heart beats in the side of her throat, desperate and thirsty to get a taste of the Priestess. Minthara follows Daedra into her private quarters, hoping that perhaps she can get more out of this night.

Daedra stops in the middle of her room and turns around to face the paladin. She bites her lower lip, her eyes looking Minthara up and down. "I had fun tonight. It has been some time since I have had a competent assassin hunt beside me. It was pleasant."

Minthara takes a step closer to Daedra. She reaches her hand down, tracing a finger along the back of the Priestesses hand, "The night need not end right now." Daedra's eyes dart down as Minthara slowly wraps her fingers around her wrist. As she takes a step back, Minthara lightly tugs on her wrist, pulling their bodies closer together.

Her heart drums along her ribs as she leans her face down towards the Priestess. A small squeak resonates from Daedra's throat as Minthara weaves their lips together. The kiss is slow and full of mutual desire, but Daedra hesitates. She tries to pull away from Minthara, but the paladin wraps her free hand along Daedra's cheek, pulling their faces closer together.

She tastes so much sweeter than Minthara ever imagined. Despite her hesitation, there is an addictive quality to the cleric, and Minthara feels drawn to her. Each kiss increases her body temperature, preparing her for whatever exertion she is about to engage in. She has spent so much time these past few weeks imagining and fantasizing about all the things she would like to do while wrapped up in the Priestesses sheets. But right now, her mind is clouded and she is just acting on some primal instinct. All that is clear in her mind is that she wants to devour Daedra's body.

Minthara draws a sharp breath through her teeth as Daedra bites deep into her bottom lip. She releases the Priestess and Daedra pushes her away. She tries to catch her breath as blood leaks out of the bite marks and trickles down her throat. She looks over to Daedra, whose eyes are knitted together in anger, the flames of blood practically leaking out of her eyes as they are fueled with rage.

"You have grown a little too familiar, paladin." Daedra growls at her. She spreads her fingers out into a claw, allowing concentrated necrotic energy to drip out of her fingers. "Do you need another reminder of your place?"

Minthara runs her tongue along the inside of her lip, trying to temper her own rage. "No, Mistress." she says slowly backing away.

"Go to f*cking bed." she growls through gritted teeth.

"Yes, Mistress." Minthara very quickly turns around and leaves Daedra's chambers. She marches through the temple, angry and confused, licking up the blood leaking from her swelling lip. Daedra is right, she has grown too familiar and has forgotten the mission. She only followed the Priestess back to Baldur's Gate with the intention of gathering as much information about the Absolute, and eventually kill her.

She slams the door to her private quarters, trying to calm herself as her blood now begins to boil with rage. Conflicting emotions dance in her mind and she can only pace in circles around her room. She can no longer deny to herself that she desires Daedra on an intimate level and holds her in very high regard. She feels devoted to her, and wants to fulfill any order the Priestess gives her. The blood leaking from the puncture wounds in her lip serve as a good reminder of how much of a fool she has been to allow the Priestess to distract her from the hate she feels. The only orders she should be fulfilling is Lolth's. It may be shattered, but she is still bound to her former oath.

She has enough information about Daedra, the temple of Bhaal, the Absolute. It's time to leave and to go home, return to her mother and mobilize an army. But Lolth will not allow her to return to the Underdark. Maybe Lolth will make an exception if she returns with the head of a traitor. And when that traitor dies, then maybe these discomforting emotions Minthara feels for Daedra will fade with her dying breath.

Chapter 9: Power Struggle

Chapter Text

For the past few weeks, Minthara has been carefully monitoring Daedra's habits and attempting to discern a schedule. She is often unpredictable as the deeds of the day vary. But there is a routine depending on those deeds. She has monitored Daedra's actions while committing a sacrifice, when she goes out hunting and how long it takes for her to return, when she delivers tasks to the paladin, when she leaves the temple to spend the night with Gortash, or when Gortash spends the night in the temple. It all seems random, but there is a predictability to it all. Minthara just has to wait for the right moment.

Minthara carefully gathers up all her notes and stuffs them into her pack. Standing guard over the meetings between Daedra and Gortash have proven to be ripe with intel. She has learned much about the Temple of Bhaal, the Cult of the Absolute, the Dead Three, Gortash and Ketheric, Moonrise, Mind Flayers, and an elder brain. The only empty spot is Daedra herself.

Minthara can only detail who the Priestess is currently and what she is capable of. But her history is completely unknown. Hells, Minthara knows more about Gortash's past than Daedra's. And it is a shame. Even now, Minthara wishes to know more about Daedra. But it is time to get back on mission, and the Priestesses head is what she needs to get home.

While traversing around in the sewers a few weeks back, Minthara had stumbled upon the Thieves Guild. Their little spot is surprisingly well kept and keeps the stench of the environment away. From time to time, the paladin would sit at the bar there and have a drink or two, enjoy the reprieve from the bullsh*t and even listen in on anything happening in the city above her. One day, she had learned that the Guild had a rather shaky partnership with some Zhent smugglers. From them, she learned that they take a caravan down into the Underdark once a month and that they would gladly provide Minthara passage, for a fee of course.

The Zhent are scheduled to leave at first light tomorrow. Regardless of what happens, Minthara will need to abscond with Daedra's head tonight, and it won't be easy. There has yet to be a fight against the cleric in which Minthara has been victorious. Killing her in her sleep seems easy, but Minthara suspects that Daedra may somehow still be aware of her surroundings even while unconscious. All she knows for sure is that the Priestess is not a god, she is not all powerful, and she most certainly can't withstand the force of a smite.

Minthara sits quietly in her private quarters next to the door that is slightly cracked open. She keeps a knife in hand as she listens to the temple. There are only slight whispers as some of the disciples and acolytes prepare for bed. Drops of mysterious blood splash against the stone in the distance. There is a chilling breeze in the air, carrying with it the sorrow and dread of those whose lives were taken too soon.

A piece of her mind is thrown back to her youth, sitting in her bedroom, a dagger in hand just waiting for an assassin to come for her that night. Sometimes she would find herself completely unable to sleep in fear that someone would take advantage of her vulnerability. Even though it was rare for someone to try to kill her randomly at night, she would frequently sit by the door anyway.

But tonight, no assassin is coming for her as she is the assassin. Minthara has killed plenty of friends, family members, and lovers in the past. Most of them were in the moment altercations in which she killed in self defense, some of them were orders given to her, and some of them were because they were an obstacle she needed to remove. Daedra falls into all of them.

Minthara squints her eyes and leans her ear closer to the door. In the distance, extremely light footsteps traverse the bloody stone of the temple. The ranger is practically silent and is capable of walking without a sound if she really tried. Minthara has spent quite some time learning those particular footsteps, trying to listen for them when they are at their quietest, mentally placing the Priestess as she moves about the temple.

She listens to the Priestess walking into the back of the temple and returning to her own private chambers and closing the door. Once inside, Minthara is no longer able to hear what is going on. The paladin stands up from her little corner and takes a deep breath. She flicks a hand in the air and pulls on the magic of her hood, turning herself invisible.

She moves with cat like footsteps through the temple, every movement of hers calm and calculated. Just because she cannot be seen does not mean she cannot be heard. It is too much of a risk to create any confusion amongst any of the zealots who are still awake and may want to investigate strange noises.

Minthara approaches the door to the High Priestesses chambers and crouches next to it. Pressing her ear to it, she can hear some muffled noise. She can only surmise that Daedra is changing her clothes. The noises stop with a muffled crash as the cleric flops onto her bed. Playing it safe, Minthara waits by the door for an hour until the Priestess falls asleep.

Gambling that Daedra is no longer conscious, Minthara tests the door handle. Locked, obviously, but nothing that can't impede the mission. The rogue paladin retrieves her toolkit from her pack, slowly and quietly twisting the pins in the lock. She pulls the handle down to muffle the noise of the door unlocking and slowly pushes it down.

Laying on her stomach and sprawled across the center of the bed, Daedra seems to be fast asleep. Minthara silently closes the door and pulls out her knife as she approaches the slumbering cleric. Her blood begins to itch, her mouth runs dry, and her heart is beating so fast she can no longer register that it's beating at all.

She stands next to the bed, lifting the knife over her shoulder. Her wrist begins to shake with the force of every thunderous smite she can channel through the short blade. She can feel the shield of her oath pushing against her chest, cracks starting to form as anxiety is replaced with righteous fury. She doesn't want to break another oath, but this one is worth breaking as she never wanted to make it in the first place.

For a brief moment, her eyes glance down to Daedra's face. What a shame it is that she is so beautiful. The kind of life they could have had if they never left home. The unshakeable devotion Minthara would have willingly given her if they were both faithful servants of the Spider Queen. There was even a moment where they were not too far away from each other. She could have had it all, if she had just looked.

Minthara moves her hand, bringing the knife down and aiming it between the Priestesses shoulder blades. But, of course, she did not expect any of this to be easy and her suspicions are proven accurate. Daedra rolls in the bed and the paladins knife plunges into the bed. Daedra's eyes are red hot as the flames ignite with amusem*nt, and anger.

Minthara lunges across the bed, ready to tackle the Priestess. But the ranger grabs onto the paladins shoulders and backflips herself in the air. Using the momentum of the flip, she pulls on Minthara's shoulders to slam her backwards and onto the ground.

The wind forces its way out of her lungs as her back hits the ground. Although, she does not need to breath to attack. As the Priestess stands above her, ready to attack, Minthara stabs the knife forward and cuts at the thick tendon of her ankle. Daedra nearly falls over, but Minthara did not slice through it far enough.

Recovering her breath, Minthara rolls to her feet and away from Daedra. In a swift motion, the paladin drives her knife forward. She had expected the cleric to dodge as she normally does. She did not expect her knife to actually pierce through the Priestesses stomach. She also did not expect monstrous claws to puncture her own stomach.

With a bestial roar, Daedra lifts the paladin off her feet and throws her across the room. Minthara grunts as her body slams against the wall and falls to the floor. She tries to crawl to a stand, but falls to her elbows to the fresh wounds in her stomach. She puts a hand to her stomach, blood licking over her fingers as she heals her new injuries. A cold wave of dread washes over her skin to the deep and heavy footsteps from the otherside of the room.

"I think, I have had enough of your bullsh*t Minthara." Daedra says with a deep and monstrous voice. The paladins breath staggers through her throat, trying to contain her pain in her stomach. But her breath freezes at the sight of the monster walking towards her. Both hands have turned into large and animalistic claws. Spikes protruding from the backs of her arms, her legs, and all down her spine. The whites of her eyes are hidden by the blood flame of murder.

The paladin groans as she comes to her feet. During the toss, she had dropped her knife. She reaches to the sword on her back, gritting her teeth as the pain in her core shoots through her body. Daedra bends at her hip, a maniacal laugh shrieking out of her throat.

"No. It is I who has had enough of you. You have taken everything from me! My life, my oath, my home, my god. Tonight, I will get my vengeance and reclaim all you have stolen." Minthara growls to the Priestess, the sword in her hand glowing with a radiant light as she channels a smite through it.

Daedra continues her laughter as she crosses the room at lightning speed. Minthara flips and spins her sword in the air, the blade clashing against the monsters claws as it tries to strike at her. Hunting with the Priestess has given Minthara the time to observe her fighting skills better, and learn how to deflect the strikes. But the more she moves, the faster Daedra gets as adrenaline and bloodlust pumps in her veins.

Minthara deflects most of the strikes, but not all of them. Some of them get past the sword and cut through the soft leathers of her armor and scratching at her skin. Daedra is not going to give the paladin the room to breath, or think, or give her the opportunity to make a counter attack. They have entered into a battle of attrition, one Minthara can already feel herself losing.

Minthara pushes herself back the moment Daedra successfully breaks her guard and knocks the sword out of her hands. A deep and taunting laugh echoes in the room as the cleric prepares to lunge forward. Minthara's eyes quickly scan over Daedra's body, thinking of what to do. Failure to counter the oncoming onslaught will lead to a sentence worse than death as the Priestess will not let her die so easily.

The paladin kicks her knee forward and pushes it into Daedra's chest as she nears. But she doesn't kick out, not yet. She leans forward and tightly grasps onto the spikes protruding from the back of Daedra's arms. Confident with her firm grip, Minthara pushes her knee forward and kicks the Priestess back, ripping the spikes off her arms.

Blood spits out of the open wounds on the Priestesses arms and decorates the floor. She unleashes a guttural scream as she tries to curl into herself. Minthara raises her arm to her shoulder and throws one of the spikes. Another yelp as the spike bites deep into the flesh between Daedra's ribs. The Priestess twists on her foot, and tries to come for the paladin again, ignoring the pain and the blood coursing out of her body.

Minthara uses her hands to swat at the claws as each furious swipe comes too dangerously close. Each movement only further aggravates her own wounds and it feels as if the muscle in her stomach is ready to rip apart. Daedra leaves no opening and Minthara can't find a spot to counter attack. But her energy is waning and she's running out of time.

Minthara moves her arm back anyway, allowing the beasts claws to puncture her chest. Brunting the pain, she channels a smite through the other spike in her head. Daedra's scream mixed with another maniacal laughter as the paladin stabs the broken spike into her leg. The radiant energy burns and eats away at her soft flesh. Minthara pulls the spike out of her leg and stabs her once more in the stomach. But before she can unleash the thunderous smite, Daedra clenches her sharp teeth into the paladins neck.

Twisting her body, the Priestess throws the both of them to the ground in which they roll away from each other. Minthara quickly brings her hands to her neck, urgently healing at the angry wound as she can already feel the blood pouring out of it. She staved off a fatality, but that was all that was left of her healing magic.

She grunts and grimaces to herself, her chest rising and falling heavy with breath and her heart beating harder than a crazed goblin with a wardrum. Minthara flips over to her elbows to witness a bright blue light in the room. Seems that Daedra can only be one thing at a time, a monster or a cleric. Attempting to heal herself, the claws and spikes have retracted away. A sad*stic smile etches its way onto the paladins face. The Priestess is weak and vulnerable, with very little energy left.

With a sudden second wind, Minthara throws herself forward and on top of Daedra's body. The Priestess stops her healing and tries to slap away the paladins hands that are coming for her throat. But Minthara quickly slaps them back. Daedra tries to jerk her hips around, attempting to buck Minthara off her. All the paladin does is laugh at her frail attempts. Whatever strength Daedra did have, it has all waned away.

Minthara stops fighting against the clerics hands and just wraps her own around the Priestesses throat, using whatever energy she has left to strangle her. Daedra continues to writhe and squirm beneath her, but her efforts are futile.

Minthara chuckles, "This is what it feels like." She speaks with a dark, raspy, and demented voice. Daedra's movements start to lose their power and ferocity, the life slowly being drained out of her. "To deprive someone of life, deny them the privilege of breath. You should have killed me." Minthara leans her body forward, tightening her grasp around the cleric's throat.

Daedra's eyes flicker open, a green aura radiating out of them. She wraps her hands around Minthara's wrists and infuses them with necrotic energy. Minthara yelps out, her own life force sapped out of her body and being used to reinvigorate the Priestess. She doesn't waste a second and the paladin releases Daedra's throat and flicks her hands away, shaking them of the necrotic energy.

Minthara looks down to the Priestess beneath her, her breath mixed with pain as blood still oozes from her various wounds. There is clear exhaustion behind the cleric's eyes, but she can clearly steal energy from the paladin if she wanted to. Instead, Daedra's hands lie against the ground, her own wounds still leaking with blood, and chest heaving. She has given up the fight, resigned entirely to Minthara.

She wears that stupid f*cking smile on her face and it sends a wave of fury through Minthara's body. There is nothing Minthara can do to win this fight, and Daedra knows that. She is resigning by choice, because Minthara can't kill her. Even if Minthara were to resume choking the life out of her, or grab the knife that is just a few feet away, Daedra would still win. She would still be in control of how this fight ends.

"Now, now." Daedra whispers out, "Do not tell me you are going to stop right now."

Minthara crunches her face in anger, "What left is there for me to do that you cannot counter?"

Daedra closes her eyes and laughs, "What you have always wanted to do, obviously."

"I want to kill you."

Daedra looks at her through hooded eyelids, "And you and I both know that is not the only thing you want to do to me. So, do it."

No, murder is not the only thing Minthara has wanted to do. Minthara wants the control that has been robbed from her. She will take it back.

She wraps a hand tightly around the clerics throat once more. Her free hand gathers the Priestesses wrists and slams them onto the ground above her head. Daedra tries to laugh, but it is stifled by the feeling of Minthara's lips crashing against hers. She gladly returns the kisses, but realizes she is losing this fight as Minthara is much more forceful with her tongue and is shoving it so deep into her throat it's nearly suffocating. There is no care or comfort behind Minthara's actions, only lust and hate and the passion of a denied mutual yearning.

Minthara slips her hands off Daedra's throat and reaches for the string wrapped around her robe. In a quick and swift motion, she unties the string and flips open Daedra's robe. Her hand begins to wander, tightly squeezing at Daedra's body, allowing her nails to dig into her flesh. She leaves behind bright red marks on her gray skin.

Blood gushes out of Daedra's body as Minthara cruelly presses a thumb against the open wound between her ribs. The cleric winces into Minthara's mouth as the pain webs through her body. Keeping her hand on Daedra's wrists, Minthara lowers her head down to one of Daedra's breasts and begins to bite at it. She allows her teeth to grab around one of Daedra's nipples and tug at it. The sounds coming from Daedra's throat is a mixture of laughter and a moan. Despite the pain, Daedra is enjoying this.

Moving across the Priestesses chest, Minthara flickers her eyes up to Daedra's face. Her cheeks flush red as her eyes wander over to something in the corner of the room. She points her chin, trying to direct Minthara's attention elsewhere. The paladin holds a forceful hand down on Daedra's chest and looks behind her to a wardrobe.

Looking back at the cleric, there is not a hint of animosity in her eyes. She wants Minthara to continue with her plans. And Minthara intends on continuing with what she has planned.

The paladin releases Daedra's wrists and stands off her. Walking over to the wardrobe, she is sure to grab the knife she dropped earlier. If the cleric tries to do anything, Minthara will kill her. Opening the door of the wardrobe, all she sees is discarded and old heavy armor.

"Check the side door." Daedra says as she slowly comes to her feet, removing the robe from over her shoulders. Minthara tightens her grip on the knife, prepared for anything. She opens the side door on the wardrobe and is greeted by an array of toys. As she stands at the wardrobe, considering her options, she undresses with a quick fervor.

Minthara grabs the thickest strap available and ties it across her waist. The cleric smiles, pleased with Minthara's choice. Daedra lays back on the bed and slowly begins to spread her legs, one of them profusely bleeding from where Minthara stabbed her with the broken spike. But she is sorely mistaken if she thinks she decides how this night plays out.

Minthara tightly grabs onto Daedra's hips and flips her over onto her stomach. The cleric tries to roll back over, but Minthara lunges forward and slaps her hands against Daedra's back, forcing her chest into the bed. The blade of the knife nicks the clerics ear as Minthara stabs it into the bed, letting it be a warning of how things could go tonight. With Daedra having lost most of her energy, Minthara finally has the upper hand and she will gladly take advantage of it while she can.

Minthara leans over her, using her own body weight to keep Daedra still. A crooked and devious smile spreads between Minthara's cheeks as the cleric furiously begins to thrash back. Minthara kicks her own legs out and uses her knees to pin down Daedra's. It would appear the cleric doesn't like not being an active participant.

Minthara takes one free hand down to the strap tied around her waist. Without warning, without proper preparation, she forces all of it inside Daedra, raw. There is a slight yelp of pain as Minthara aggressively slaps her hips against Daedra's backside, forcing the entirety of the strap to fill her up. Daedra struggles and tries to get up and crawl away. Her screams are muffled by the padding of the bed as Minthara takes one hand to the clerics head and slams it down. She chokes and coughs as Minthara takes her other hand and wraps it around the clerics throat.

Minthara lowers her head, and just sits there, unmoving, enjoying the whimpers escaping from Daedra's lips. A flash of heat and arousal begin to work their way through Minthara's body as the cleric surrenders beneath her. There is immense pleasure in finally having complete control and dominion over the drow who ruined her life.

"It would be wise for you to learn to cooperate. Your body is now mine." Minthara purrs into the cleric's ear, reveling in the fact that there is not a damn thing Daedra can do to fight her off. Minthara leans backup and removes her hand from Daedra's throat and places it on her back.

Daedra slams her eyes shut and bites her lip, wincing as Minthara slowly gyrates her hips. The waves of pleasure heat up her body as the edge of the strap grinds against her and her defenseless partner begins to whine with pain to her motion. Minthara smiles to herself, savoring the pained whimpers from the drow beneath her. Intense pain sparks form the puncture wounds in her chest and stomach as she moves about. Pain she gladly accepts so she may revel in finally being able to return the pain and humiliating she has been subjected to. Exquisite!

She can feel Daedra's muscles begin to relax beneath her hands, a grimaced face turns into one of delight, whimpers of pain turn into soft moans of pleasure as the cleric gives in to the indomitable force inside her. The more Minthara moves, the quicker the pain turns into ecstasy. The strap starts to glide more easily in and out as the cleric's body begins to produce more slick in her growing arousal.

Daedra starts to moan out louder as Minthara rolls her hips faster and harder. There is an echo of wet slapping as Minthara forcibly brings her hips forward into Daedra's backside each time. Each slap and each moan a note symbolizing the control Minthara has over the Priestess.

A soft hand reaches up to the paladin, trying to seek comfort and connection. But there is no comfort or affection to be had tonight. Minthara grabs Daedra's wrists and twists her arm into the center of her back, nearly enough to break it. There is another mixture of laughter and a moan. Daedra is deeply enjoying the pain, of being at a loss of control, of being dominated.

Daedra mumbles something into the soft padding of the bed and follows it up with a mischievous laugh. Minthara twists her hands, wrapping Daedra's silky white hair around her wrist and pulls the cleric's head of the bed. She laughs as Minthara leans into her ear.

"Would you like to repeat that?" she growls while biting and tugging on one of the ring pierced within Daedra's ear.

The cleric laughs before resuming her moans, "You f*ck like your mother!"

Rage overtakes the paladin and she slams Daedra's head back into the bed. With a heavy breath of exertion, "I am not my mother."

Daedra twists her head and barks back, "Prove it, princess!"

Minthara growls louder at the challenge. The cleric rolls into a laughing moan as Minthara rakes her nails down the entire length of her back, leaving behind flaming hot welts on her gray skin.

The cleric behinds her back and twists her hips, making it easier for Minthara to impale deeper into her. She begins to grunt with each thrust, using it to stifle her own moans. She is enjoying this sight of Daedra. Seeing her broken and whimpering, spreading her legs and bending her back, desperate and hungry for Minthara's touch.

She leans back down and nuzzles her head into Daedra's neck, sinking her teeth deep into the soft flesh of her shoulder, further marking her property. Minthara smiles to the playful laugh escaping Daedra's mouth. The cleric's other hand reaches back and tightly squeezes against Minthara's thigh. The paladin growls to the burning sensation as Daedra uses her nails to mark Minthara's skin.

Minthara's breath grows heavy, her heart roars in her chest, and sweat drips off her forehead. The moaning, the grunting, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the biting, the clawing, the blood and the sweat. The dominance, the power, the absolute and total control. Her pleasure grows like an unstoppable wave of the ocean with each powerful thrust into her lover.

Suddenly, Daedra grows quiet. Minthara lifts her head just in time to watch a glorious sight. The red glow of Daedra's eyes rolling to the back of her head. She begins to feel the resistance against her thrusting as the cleric's c*nt begins to quiver. Daedra's voice returns in a higher octave, her body shaking underneath Minthara. But Minthara does not stop, she just keeps f*cking Daedra deeper and deeper into the bed.

Minthara sits on the edge of the bed, her body still cooling from the intense exertion. She can still feel droplets of sweat trail down her back and pain echo through her body from the various injuries. Injuries that have mostly healed from the greater health potion the cleric had retrieved for the both of them.

She brings the bottle of wine to her lips and takes a heavy drink. A delicious bottle of spiced Ulaver wine, one of the few things the Priestess smuggled with her when she came to the surface, who knows how long ago. From the taste alone, Minthara guesses that the wine itself has aged at least a decade or two.

She had expected to feel better, but she doesn't. She feels dirty, and like a failure. She was supposed to kill Daedra, not sleep with her. But she does not feel disdain in straying from her original mission. She hates that she is forced to recognize how much she had been longing to be with Daedra, yearning to be inside her. To be so much more than just some paladin to her.

After everything she has done, Minthara should hate Daedra. But she doesn't, at least not fully. Daedra is a remarkable force to be reckoned with. A High Priestess with a mastery of death and command over not just one, but two cults. She hates that she admires Daedra and wants to relish in her glory. Minthara hates how much she wants to please her, kneel before her, show her due reverence.

"Do you feel better? Now that you have gotten all that aggression out of your system..." Daedra says leaning her back into the pillows against the headboard of the bed. A smile briefly flutters on Minthara's face as she takes inventory of all the marks and injuries she left on the cleric's body.

"Partially..." Minthara takes another sip of the wine. The sheets rustle behind her as the drow crawls on the bed. The paladin feels soft hands on her shoulders. She closes her eyes to the sensation of soft lips against the scar on her neck.

"I have a... proposal..." Daedra whispers against Minthara's ear.

"Hm?"

"Let us pretend that we are back at home, you and I." Daedra kisses lower down Minthara's neck. "You are a paladin. You have no care for me or anyone. You are just doing your job, obeying your Priestess. In public, we are indifferent to each other. Just two servants doing a job, obeying the word of their god." Minthara's breath kicks up as Daedra's squeezes her breasts. She hates how much she enjoys the feeling of the cleric's hands on her body. "But at night, when no one is around, you climb into my tower, a tower you know you are not supposed to be in, and show me all the things you pretend you do not feel, privately. And I will ask of you all the things I pretend I do not want. No voices, no orders, no gods. In this room, I belong to you."

Minthara turns her head to face the cleric.

All the things I pretend I do not feel?

Minthara leans forward, and gently places her lips inside Daedra's. A rare moment of softness and tenderness, one greatly appreciated by both. A moment both crave, but deny themselves. As if nothing else in the world exists and nothing else matters matters and no one is watching. Just a rebellious paladin intruding in the chambers of the High Priestess.

A string of spit connects them as their heads separate from each other. An invisible spark of electricity flows in the air as they look into each others eyes. Minthara can feel her heart beating heavily again. Beating with all the emotions she pretends she does not feel, none of them being what she would have expected. She hates that she does not hate Daedra. She hates that she desires Daedra. She hates that she needs Daedra.

Badly.

She sets the bottle of wine on the ground before grabbing the Priestesses shoulders and twists her around, slamming the cleric back onto the bed. Their bodies entangle and begin to prepare for a second round of pleasantries. Minthara greets Daedra's lips with a more forceful kiss, but not as harshly as last time. This time, she allows Daedra to return with equal vigor and passion.

It feels as if they are two lovers who have known each other throughout multiple lifetimes. Daedra moans as she rolls her tongue with the paladins and wraps her legs around her lovers hips. Keeping their lips locked together, Minthara reaches her hand down and slides her fingers between the Priestesses slit. Ensuring that her partner is properly wet and ready this time, Minthara grabs the end of the strap and slowly pushes it back inside Daedra for round two.