[Fiction] Tales from the Underdark

[fss]

Disclaimer -
1) This is not exactly going to be set in the real-world, so if you aren't among us D&D-nerds, feel free to ask how a specific place or race looks like (in case I fail so bad at writing that you can't tell)
2) English is my third language, and mainly selftaught, so please excuse any of the typos that I am likely to make (and equally likely to diligently Ignore)

Edith: As for the 18+ Section qualification - I'm not quite sure, as to how 'messy' things are gonna get, so better to be safe than sorry, no?

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Eriel's movement was flawless, as he cautiously sought his way through the mansion. The drow had covered his silken white hair under a hood, his black coat and ebon skin granting him almost complete invisibility in the dim twilight that dominated the corridors. Only every dozen or so steps, small windows, encased by heavy crimson curtains allowed the omnipresent glow of the Underdark to lighten up the halls.
Eriels eyes, far surpassing those of any surface dweller, assured that he could see just as well as outside, but of course, this would also be true for any guards.
If there were any. Slitting the throats of one or two unfortunate guardsmen would not have bothered Eriel. He had come here to kill, to wreak bloody revenge upon those that had executed the downfall of his clan. He was prepared for combat, even for overcoming magical obstacles, but other than the merely chest high wall outside, he had not encountered any form of security so far, in fact he hadn't even encountered another living being up to now. And that was a bother. With betrayal and assassination being as common in drow society as they were, most nobles or matriarchs suffered from paranoia beyond cure, and hid themselves behind armies of henchmen, corridors full of traps, and countless protective enchantments. Yet all those were suspiciously absent.

The sound of an old Door, opening just around the corner, made Eriel stop dead in his tracks. Causing little to no sound, he pressed himself against the wall near the corner, and drew his blade, two foot of razorsharp steel, covered in coal to prevent it from reflecting any light. Hidden as he was, he might have fooled even another drows eyes for a few precious seconds, but the person that came around the corner was no drow. The man was a little taller than Eriel, wearing nothing but a clothen kilt, his pink human skin scarred by countless small, red marks. His head was completely bold, and his face displayed almost lunatic ecstasy, a notion that quickly faded, as Eriel emerged from the shadows, and ended the pathetic creatures life, with a single thrust of his blade, piercing the humans heart from behind.
A few quick steps carried Eriel around the corner, and through the door the man had come from. He hardly acknowledged the furniture in the room - it didn't matter. There she was, sitting in front of a large mirror, dressed in a long crimson dress, that revealed much of her ebon skinned back, currently untying her hair. Only a few steps, until his victory, until he would finally feel the sweet taste of revenger. He hurled himself forward, the sword above his head, eager to go for the kill.
The matriarch turned her head. Where most drow hat either black or red eyes, hers were from a light purple. Eyes like Eriel had never seen them before. Those Eyes... Eriel noticed that he had stopped his motion. He attempted to raise his arm, to get moving again, but what for?. His mind, just seconds ago raging with bloodthirsty anticipation, had become dull out of nowhere. Weird thoughts circling before his inner eye. He had started to sweat rapidly, and now that he tried to concentrate, he realized that all sound from the outside of the mansion was gone, he hardly even heard the clinging sound of his sword, as it fell out of his hands.
All the while, he could not turn his gaze away from the matriarchs eyes, loosing himself, more and more. He started one last, weak attempt to wrestle back his consciousness, which was overcome as easily, as his mental and magical defenses where the first time. The Shame of defeat that he should feel, the hatred he felt just seconds ago, none of that mattered before those eyes. He felt his body moving on it's own, slowly falling on his knees, before collapsing completely at the matriarchs feet, all the while still staring upward, into her eyes. She spoke now. Not that he would have understood the words in his condition, but the pure act of her speaking filled him with a deep never before known happiness, that finally put him over the edge of unconsciousness.
"It seems, you dispatched of my last pet. Would it not be considered justice, if I demanded proper substitute from you?"


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That's it for the time being, more to come up when I can be bothered.

[DHK-eh]

I like it, please go on. I being one of the DnD nerds and also a drow fan, find this a very pleasent surprise, and also your english is far better then some people who learned it as a first language

[molten man]

Great work... Keep it going!!