Arvandor, The Seldarine
(9th of Alturiak, 1380 Dalereckoning)
He was there. He was waiting for her.
Swallowing, Vala advanced into a thick, verdant morass, blooming flowers clinging to nearly every surface. She had to tread carefully not to trample them. Sitting cross-legged before a weathered oak, its surface pitted and cracked, perhaps the only rustic thing in this forest, was her ancestor, the male she’d seen in her visions.
He looked frail, with his slight frame and pale, pale skin. His dark hair, bound in a topknot, reached to his waist, synched to his robes, which were pure white trimmed with silver. Dark circles lined his eyes, which, while calm and gentle, surged with power, less frightening perhaps than the psicrystal shards that emerged from his brow like devil’s horns.
He smiled, betraying his fangs, which like his psicrystal horns seemed more an affectation than a natural occurrence.
“You’ve come to me.” he said, his voice far deeper than his frame would suggest, “Both of you. Unexpected.”
“My husband has his ways.” she explained, sitting opposite to him.
He closed his eyes, not replying, and it took a moment for her to realize he was meditating. Doing so as well, Vala returned to herself, beside Asara, and awaited her ancestor’s words.
How much time passed, she couldn’t say, before she opened her eyes, and found him studying her intently.
“So much time has passed.” he noted sadly, “Here, in this place, waiting.”
“For us?”
“For many things.”
He blinked, wearily, “But my burden is my own. I am Norudriel Oblodra, known by many names besides. Tell me your names.”
“Vala.”
Again, she was in her mindscape, but this time there was no tangible connection to her body.
“Asara.” her twin said through her lips, “And I’m not all pomp and ceremony like the other one. We’re here to talk about House Oblodra.”
If she’d had control of the body, Vala might have put her face in her hands.
“Of course, my child. Time presses.” he replied, “House Oblodra’s tale is my own; a tragedy in two acts. You know of the fall of Ilythiir, yes?”
The sudden shift of perspective as they exchanged places jolted her, but Vala managed a nod, “Lloth infiltrated it, used a demon to...poison the well, so to speak.”
“I was no Dark Elf, but Ilythiir was my home all the same. When its people were forced below, I followed them, beside my betrothed, soon to become my wife. Her name was Irelia.”
He smiled, though there was a great pain in it, “She was Ssri-Tel’Quessir, and I was not. I was hardly welcome among them. And so, against her wishes I was cast out along their trek into the caverns of what would soon be known as Great Bhaerynden. She could not follow, for her father was a house patron, and restrained her in his convoy.”
His expression darkened, “I was an accomplished sorcerer at the time, but little else. It was a harrowing trek through the wilds of the Underdark.”
Remembering her own ordeal, though he’d been older and more experienced, Vala nodded grimly, “You weren’t born with your psionimancy. You developed it?”
Norudriel shook his head, “I stole it, actually. My travels brought me to the outskirts of an Illithid civilization. I was brought before their Elder Brain.”
“Their...Elder Brain? They didn’t just scramble your grey matter into mush and had you picking mushrooms or something?”
He smiled mischievously, so much like Adir she blushed, “You’re an impertinent one. They’d never seen an Elf before; the people rarely had reason to traverse the Underdark, after all. They were curious, enough to analyze me.”
“And you cast some powerful wizardly spell, and thus stole the secrets of Psionimancy?”
“Entered a communion, actually.”
Vala waited for him to elaborate, then sighed, “With the Elder Brain?”
“Yes; an ancient reservoir of the collective experiences of its servants. Dedicated to the collection of knowledge.”
“Great. You’re a scroll-scribbler. And a priest?”
Norudriel shook his head, “It had no interest in priests. It...changed me. Gave me a task.”
“And that was?”
“Infiltrate the Ssri-Tel’Quessir. Patron a noble house that would act in the interests of the Illithid.”
“Sounds like you did what it wanted.”
“No...” he replied, “The opposite, actually. House Oblodra served Lloth as a barrier from the predations of the Illithid for many centuries. If it noticed or cared about my betrayal, it never really showed it.”
“Okay. What’s this got to do with us? Why a Benefactor?”
“Because I need you to retrieve something for me. Irelia.”
Vala paused, confused, “Your wife?”
“I had many heirs, and I loved them dearly.” Norudriel explained, “But they were Drow, Lloth’s through-and-through. Irelia never belonged...but that didn’t stop the powers that be from barring her from this place.”
“While you were pushed through after your death.” Vala reasoned, “And she went to-”
“The Demonweb Pits.” he cursed, “I asked them, I told them, to send me there. I would have been content beside a demon queen if I was still beside her.”
Asara took over, and she could feel her lips pull back in a bestial grimace, “So you want Adir to take us to the Demonweb Pits, brave Lloth and who knows what else so we can snatch up your old brightbird?”
“I would ask you not to insult her.”
“I would ask you not to assume I wasn’t thrilled with the idea. Steal a soul from that spider-kissing bitch? Done. How we going to find her?”
“I’ll accompany.”
She blinked, “You’re dead.”
“And traveling from one Afterlife to another.”
“Good point. What’s in it for us?”
“Power.”
“Great. Ummm....”
Norudriel laughed, “My power. I’ll do what the Elder Brain did to me.”
“Will it...hurt who we carry?”
A spark of curiosity, excitement, “I can modify the alterations not to. Worry not.”
“Great. But power...like, to kill Ahriman.”
“Yes.”
Asara laughed, “Adir’s not going to like that. When do we start...?”
To Be Continued
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