An elegant elven woman, easily recognizable to those that know her as Elvadriel, features at the top of this entry. She appears to be whistling nonchalantly, casually leaning towards the figure of a beautiful woman, seemingly sculpted in marble. The tall, gaunt figure of what might possibly be a man, cowled in black, looms over the scene like a menacing shadow.
Power
Without Elvadriel, I'd never have dared venture so far into the maze as that. It isn't just her obvious power, the magic she so skillfully weilds, but more than that - since the day we first met, I was struck by Elvadriel's indominable spirit. I find her self-assurance infectious, irresistable, and in her company I often find myself taking risks I'd otherwise have opted against.
On this particular day, it was just her and me; a rare treat as it was quite some time since we last spent any real time together just for fun. Grief handling was never Elvadriel's strong suite, and by the time I'd stopped weeping, I'd immersed myself completely in the enchanted private sphere belonging to Nate and I alone.
But now, here we were on a jaunty stroll towards adventure, two fabulous ladies with the world laid before them. Just like the old days! The fishmen phased us not at all, the Ettins tumbled into heaps of twitching flesh and bone - but wait, twitching?
Twitching… and rising.
Zombie ettins, groaning in stereo - something was most definitely 'up', but even gruesome undeath seemed just another enticing adventure element to our day. We proceeded with just a smidge more caution, elation shining in Elvadriel's eyes. Mystery, challenge, oh my!
Dark chanting in a nearby chamber, the acrid taste of necromancy on my tongue - but once we turned the corner, I suddenly faltered. Waiiit a minute, I know that dwarf! She'd healed me at the request of that coocoo-crazy Jenny, part of her 'gang' of vampire hunters! The priestess cackled a friendly greeting as another Ettin rose groaningly to its feet, while Elvadriel cocked her head quizzically towards me.
I must say, it's ever so pleasing to have friends who not just trust your judgement, but won't fly off the handle for principle's sake. Elvadriel simply smiled pleasantly, slinging the sword she'd been toying with back over her shoulders.
We chit-chatted, learning that the priestess was looking for an enchanted amulet, rumoured to be hidden somewhere deep within these caverns. Her zombies wouldn't hurt us, noted the necromancer, but look out for ghouls! Those belonged to the competition, and were 'not' the friendly kind.
A mystery quest for a shiny amulet of untold powers? Yes, dear readers, you guessed it - Elvadriel and I joined the chase, leaving the priestess to raise the rest of her helpers while we pushed ahead, further in and down, down, into the duergar maze of deadliness below.
I should have been frightened, but somehow I wasn't - Elvadriel sliced through the resistance, undaunted, and I couldn't help but to get dragged along in the wake of her unquenchable confidence.
As we neared the bridge leading to the settlement proper, however, the duergar suddenly dwindled - the absence of guards a clear signal that we may have company of a different kind. The silence was unsettling as we crossed the bridge. The chill in the air felt palpable, an icy trickle down my back as we approached the first low stone buildings.
There, at the corner.. a flicker of something, a moving shadow! A gaunt, ghoulish figure just discernible in the dark, and the pale white shape of a woman. A ghost, I thought at first, but she stood so very still. Coming closer, I noticed the solidity of her, the gleam of smooth white marble. She was perfectly sculpted, strikingly beautiful, remarkably lifelike in detail, right down to the amulet noticibly clasped around her slender neck.
Though if this was the prize we'd sought, our competitor loomed before us, a frightful figure robed in black. Tall, inhumanly thin but exuding such a sense of menace that I took an involuntary step back. Underneath the cowl, an impossible mouth moved, teeth far too many, lips a sickly grey.
"What is your business here?", demanded a chilling voice, cold like mist sweeping across a desecrated graveyard at midnight.
Elvadriel just smiled, spouting pointless pleasantries to the gaunt figure, as though were we but two hapless ladies on a sunday stroll, clueless and care-free. He soon dismissed us as insignificant, ordering his ghouls to prepare moving the statue while we exchanged a quick set of murmurs.
Smiles firmly in place, I hooked Elvadriel's arm in mine as she blathered on, casually getting closer to the statue. With her free hand, she gesticulated idly, and as if on sheer whim, touched the cool marble. Our opponent stiffened in alarm but too late: a quickly muttered spell, slim elven fingers weaving and then the dizzying, swirling sense of displacement as the world seemed to shift around us.
And then, we were elsewhere. Light shone in through a window, comfortable velvet cushions lay in piles on a smooth stone floor, bookcases laden with arcane tomes along the walls. Maria's tower, miles away in the Rawlins.
A triumphant Elvadriel viewed our stolen prize with keen interest, mumbling and rummaging in her pack while I curiously studied the amulet itself, trying to wriggle it loose. Wasn't this statue a bit 'too' lifelike, murmured Elvadriel. What if it wasn't a statue at all, but...
The stone to flesh caused a shimmer, a ripple passing over the cold stone. I blinked and saw colour seep through the marble, saw hard stone soften and tint. Black hair, red clothes, a complexion fair and flawless - a woman stood before us, blinking groggily back to consciousness. The change was gradual, slow, and for a long while she stood in just the same pose as though her limbs had forgotten how to move.
The amulet came loose finally as the stone retreated, but just then the woman's dark eyes focused on mine. Though a beautiful statue, she was all the more magnetic in the flesh, that gaze and the will behind it hitting me with full force.
"Give me back my amulet", rang her voice in my head, a silken whip-crack of command.
Though smooth, I could sense the steel under the velvet. My hands moved as though of their own volition, gently resting the amulet back in place. Could I have resisted, if I'd really wanted to? I've wondered many times since. Though perhaps not - just like with Jenny, the compulsion was overwhelming. But where Jenny's torrential power runs wild, unchecked, this was a sharpened knife, exact in pressure. The moment I obliged, she released me.
Her name is Lillia. In a curious twist of fate, it seems as though her petrification may have been none other than Sweet Jenny's doing. "She probably thought she was helping me", noted Lillia with a bemused smile.
While Elvadriel couldn't chase the notion of there being something distinctly 'off' about our rescuee, we had little time left with Lillia as our thwarted necromancer, one Quentin Reylerstroop, was hot on the heels of his lost prize. With ghouls at the gate, we teleported away once more, to Peltarch this time, where Lillia appeared much more at ease. Before parting ways, she gave us each a gift.
Perhaps it was Elvadriel's persistant probing that granted her that particular "gift", perhaps the mere necessity of getting rid of the damned thing - in either case, the staff is a decided menace and probably the last thing Elvadriel needs, given the rumours circulating about her past hobbies.
The darned thing summons spectral undead left and right - and instead of getting rid of it, Elvadriel fuels her teleportation addiction for damage control!
It seems the sort of power you can neither harness nor contain, but instead just 'is'. I'd better run this by Nate - because more often than not, it's knowledge that's the real power. All the force in the world is of no use, unless you know how and where to apply it."
