Campaign Logs

The Xullrae Logs

By Xullrae Zauvir

Chapter 1 - Meetings and Acquaintances (part 11)

When the aftereffects of the shadow demon's teleportation had worn off, Vesz'aun found his blade freshly plunged into the "flesh" of said beast's lower leg, nearly up to the hilt.

Scowling deeply as his twin pools of crimson dared a glance upward, the glare held within his own orbs was nothing in comparison to the one that loathsome creature's multiple glowing blue eyes were now issuing downward.

Having been a well enough accomplished thief for some years, Vesz'aun did not let not panic overtake him. This was just one of a thousand such situations like he'd gotten out of before.

Tearing his gaze from the creature's own for just a moment, a quick assessment of the surroundings was made, and as he deftly twisted and pulled on his blade to free it in a painful manner, buying himself a moment more, he had to do a double-take, realizing that he was not the only one to have been transported along with the fleeing beast. That scowl then deepened immensely as his eyes fell upon the figure of a certain "flunkie" drowess, Chessintra. Note was taken that the female had not yet gotten over the effects of teleportation. She must have been in the city streets during the battle. He thought, but why is she here in Sshamath, she belongs in Menzo! Sighing inwardly as he couldn't think of the answers right now, he caught sight also one of the recesses in the stone walls of the large room they now occupied. His orbs swept upward to meet the creature's own once more, a small wink offered as he gracefully leapt between it's gigantic legs, somersaulting along the floor in the drowess' direction. His ornate silver blade occupying one hand, the free appendage reached out for the now-rousing drow female. He knew his own aim would be true, intended to grab up her clothing to pull her along, but somehow there crept in a small doubt on the female's part. The bitch usually did screw everything up, after all.

The Drowess known as Chessintra was a bit dazed after being caught up in the transport. She had not meant to be here, but the handsome Bladesinger had caught her attention. She had not known he would be in Sshamath, for her mission was to keep her eye on Xull'rae, because the red headed bitch was under suspicion of the alliance made with her house and the Zauviir's.

Information told her to look for the ugly cunt in the Vengeful Weave Inn. Anger still arose whenever she thought of that. Chessintra had not found her query there and then the fight in the street, the hooded male figure, the dragon, the was all a blur.

Chessintra had no time to gather her wits for when she attempted to get on her feet once more, she was abruptly swooped off her feet and was airborne. Shouting out a strangled cry she tried to release a spell as she struggled against what she thought was an attacker. The spell coming to mind but not having the nerve to cast it in her surprised state.

"Ya know, this would be much easier if you would STOP SQUIRMING!" Vesz'aun grunted from the effort of keeping a grip on her. Having bounded to his feet at the last moment, tossing her onto his bared, obsidian shoulder in the process. He nearly stumbled by virtue of her present machinations.

He couldn't stand the wench, and if given the choice, he'd leave her here to die. But for some odd reason, Xull'rae wanted the bitch alive for the time being. Why was beyond his fathoming. He'd had plenty of opportunity to slay her in recent times.

He struggled to get them both to that aforementioned recess, where he guessed there would be a shaft leading downward, if past experience in such places held true, his mind continued racing on thoughts of the imbecile wench.

Just days ago, he was ushered off to meet Chessintra, by Xull'rae, part of which was to get needed healing. Which, his mind refused to accept, Xull'rae would not give him. Lo and behold though, Chessintra had been sent away days beforehand, on some mission or another that he was not to become privy to. Until now, at least.

Well, he still didn't know why she was in Sshamath, but he definitely did know where she was now. Through all the struggling, he dared a glance backward, only to catch sight of the demon spawning the humanoid shaped minions from its own flesh once more.

"And you didn't have to slam into me like that!" Came Chessintra's vicious sounding retort though her slender body did relax. She did recognize his voice and he saved her. She wasn't a complete twit and knew he needed yelling at. Her faith demanded such, but Vesz'aun was so intoxicating that she would bend her beliefs some if it meant he would pay more attention and be hers.

She was not stupid nor ugly by any means. In fact Chessintra was quite the beauty herself, having thick white hair..not as long as Xull'rae's but she always kept it unbound so it almost fell to her waist. Her lips were full and had a natural pouty look. She was also not as well muscled as the hated red head but she did have a soft shapely form, and was well aware of it, that took good care of it by staying fit. She did however always wear clothes to show it off and attract all sorts of attention, male and female alike. She loved the attention and always fumed when the Bladesinger dared to ignore her.

Her hands pinched at his back and her blood red eyes fumed, but soon she stopped to caress him some. His bare skin felt so good, soft yet hard in all the right places. She began to trace his tattoo in interest.

"By the Hell's woman, what are you doing?!" Vesz'aun felt uncomfortable from her touch, and was disgusted enough to drop her, but he noted now the wave of black energy headed towards them. It was issued from the shadow-infused demon. He skidded to a dead halt, releasing her from his shoulder in the process, he hoped the momentum of his abrupt stop would cause her form to skid most of the way to their destination, if nothing else. Of her looks and dress, he took no note, as in his mind, Xull'rae was the only female worth his attentions.

Heedless of any protests of rage the female may have had, he spins round to face the incoming assailants, his blade brought to bear in a defensive position, his free hand falling to the broad, black leather belt strapped about his lithely muscled waist.

Pulling a small piece of licorice root from one of the many mystical pouches within said belt, a few terse arcane words were quickly uttered, the spell taking effect within moments, his being full of energy and zeal, quite ready for battle.

"What are you doing!?" She screeched as she was literally tossed off him, in which she screamed in panic and did indeed skid painfully many feet from him, an acrobat she was not, another difference the Bladesinger could note between the two females. Chessintra did her best to collect herself and adjust her gossamer dress from falling completely off and straighten her hair as best she could, before even thinking to aid Vesz'aun in the coming conflict. So engrossed in her hurried grooming she missed the fact that she was nearly standing atop a grate that no doubt offered a means of escape.

Not realizing that the female was overly busy primping herself at the moment, an order of sorts was issued to her whilst his blade began to dance within the flesh of the three humanoid shapes that now came to being. Each splitting apart from the central wave of darkness. By virtue of the fact they were somewhat helpless whilst in transformation, he managed to at least wound all three before he took a small leap back, intending not to battle overly long.

His thoughts being ones of escape for the time being, he shouted to the clueless woman, "put up a protective circle near the opening!"

Chessintra made a sneering noise as she stooped preening herself and did as she was told and unleashed a protective barrier near the area by taking powdered silver from a velvet pouch and quickly made a large circle on the ground whispering the words as she went about sprinkling the dust.

Desiring only to flee for the time being, a few small pellets were extracted from within that magic belt, each being quickly tossed to the floor as he crept backward in a defensive manner.

Small flash bursts filled the dimly lit chamber, followed by loud hissing, and the rising of large plumes of smoke. Not taking much heart in the fact that it would slow their assailants down, he spun about briskly, sheathing his blade in a single, deft movement. All but leaping now towards the recess, catching the tail end of Chessintra's casting. "At least she's not a total nitwit," he muttered aloud as his feet carried him forward. "Now, into the shaft!" He had yet to notice that there was a grate covering said shaft.

Anger arose in Chessintra as she heard him insult her, but escaping was the first priority and as she stepped back from the spell and smoke she finally noticed the grate, and couldn't believe the Bladesinger could be so stupid and not notice. "Theres a grate there you idiot or else I would've gone down already!" She muttered 'Asshole' for an insult to throw back at him, though a weak one, for it was more truth than insult.

Scowling now, his crimson orbs rolling in frustration, he races forward, peering now at said grate, and determining he'd not be able to move it in time. A soft curse is uttered under his breath, though more at the female than at the grate's prospect. "Stupid bitch probably still can't open a door for herself, so how would she EVER grasp the concept of moving a grate!" By the time his mutter was through, he'd reached out to grab hold of her arm, not caring one whit about the bruises it would leave later. Harboring thoughts of backhanding her upside that pouty face, in order to knock her out, he instead barks out a quick, terse arcane phrase, which causes a small, yet adequate, mystical doorway to appear in front of them, his footfalls carrying his form towards said aperture. "Stop dallying and lets go!" He growls as he notices her resistance to his handling.

"You're the one who's dallying!" She grunts and hisses at him as she twists and struggles to be free of him. She thought about killing him then and there, for his words and roughness with her, she followed though with a look of murder in her blood colored eyes.

As his grip holds true, Vesz'aun drags her form through the doorway, the anger upon her countenance is duly noted. Sighing in frustration, more inwardly than out, he decides it would be best to ease that anger somewhat. One never knew when he'd have use for her again, best not to have her wanting him dead when next he called on her.

Sickened by the thought, he nonetheless flashed her one of his trademark charming grins. His sharp featured, and handsome face taking on an innocent, boyish look, and came up with the best bullshit he could muster at the moment. "I only dally in order to be in the presence of your beautiful magnificence a moment longer. For it would break my heart to be torn asunder from such, should we die this day." It had the effect he wanted, for her anger drained away like water in a sewer, and she blinked several times, flustered, her obsidian skin darkened as she blushed but recovered quickly as arrogance took its place, caressing her own body with a seductive smile. "We will not die," she breathed in airy confidence, nearly purring as she pressed against him to play with a braid of his. "How beautiful am I?"

Holding back a most inappropriate gagging noise, brought on by her actions and words. He was rather relieved by the fact that he had not to produce an answer, despite the fact his saving grace was a moment of possible peril to them both. The mystical doorway had indeed whisked them away from the chamber above, but as they now found themselves plummeting through open air, spiraling between masses of uncut stone, towards a roiling of what appeared to be clouds below.

The thought occurred to him that perhaps he had misjudged the distance. Not even having time to curse, his tightly muscled form tucked and rolled in the air, wiry arms stretching out in the aftermath, grasping for one of the sturdier looking outcrops of natural rock.
He managed to grab hold, the bared flesh of his fingertips being torn apart, along with some of the exposed flesh of his forearms, he now took a moment to curse, for the fact that he had forgotten about Chessintra. Well sculpted, bare torso slamming off the roughly surfaced stone a heartbeat later, he freed one of his leather-gauntleted hands, and reached out for her form as she began to float by, only then realizing, as he slipped, coming to rest dangling by one arm, that she had been smart enough to invoke her natural ability to levitate.

Chessintra looks at him scornfully, "what ARE you doing...?" Her brows lifted in question..surprised and disappointed in him that he didn't think of it.

Stuttering over a few possible responses, he shortly gave up, and merely offered her a scowl, pure stubbornness driving him to clamber up onto the stone by traditional method, his own ability to levitate not brought to bear. Allowing a few moments for his labored breathing to subside, and for his gaze to take in their situation, he finally came up with a reasonable answer to her query, reasonable to his mind, at any rate. "You see, I for one am intelligent enough to save up my limited levitation's...for it appears that the trip grounded will be quite a long one. Squander yours as you will, no skin off my back...idiot.."

Turning away with yet another frown, he was aware of being only half satisfied that his answer held merit.

Chessintra drifted closer to him, her hands aglow with a healing spell ready, though her touch was soft on his chest, it was also suggestive as warmth pulsed through him as the spell took effect. She letting his comments slide with a smile on her lovely features.

Vesz'aun nearly flinched at her touch, but some part of his mind could not argue that the feeling was a pleasurable one. The remainder of his warped mind quenched all such thoughts soon enough though, and a quick, wary glance was offered to her. That twisted mind also took her silence as fact that he was in the right over the whole levitation matter.

She let her hand drop with a disappointed sigh, disdain in her tone. "You're probably still fawning over HER. I don't see why. She's hideous but then again with your mouth you couldn't get laid if you tried..pity for you..I guess I'll stop wasting my time. I only like your looks not your brain anyway!" Anger had etched it's way on her beautiful face. Of course the 'her' spoken of was none other than Xull'rae.

Her entire statement had been absorbed, but the slanders aimed directly at himself were forgotten, but with each increasingly stronger beating of his heart, the words about Xull'rae being hideous playing over and over in his mind with increasing volume.

Ebony skin darkening with anger, a slow, deliberately malicious smile crept upon his visage, some other part of his mind deciding to take advantage of the Haste effect he still had active. Being in such close proximity as they were, one of his slender hands shot out and grabbed a hefty handfuls of her flowing, white hair, jerking her around so that her back was now pressed to him, the other hand simultaneously falling to his belt, from which he pulled one of his favorite instruments of assassination: the wire and steel contraption known as a locking garrote.

The moment she had been forced into position, he slipped that garrote around her squirming little head and yanked it tight around her throat. Holding now onto the excess of the garrote wire whilst she struggled in vain, he freed the hand from her hair, and reached quickly to that belt once more, pulling forth a sizable emerald. It only took a heartbeat for him to shove it into the recesses of her low cut dress, stuffing it more or less into the crack of her rear end. Where it would take her some time and struggle to reach it, situated as she was. It took even less time for him to utter the activation word, and for the anti-magic spell to take effect. Though little visual effect adorned the spell's ministrations, the instant draining of her levitation, and all other sorcerous effects, could be felt.

Now it was a simple matter of dangling her from the rock, her own weight being used to cut off her air supply, and any struggle she may offer only adding to the fact he may drop her to her death at any moment. " not...hideous!" His crimson eyes wild with rage and his tone all but screeching.

Caught unaware Chessintra's first reaction was surprise then fear, next anger as she choked and struggled. She being drow, feelings of dread did not last long. she had managed to kick and scratch at him, trying to get off a spell. Only when the anti magic field took effect did fear set in again, as she fell gasping for air, hatred in her eyes as she gurgled to reply the only word audible was Lloth or something akin to it.

"Now, you will apologize for that statement, or I will add your death to the handful of other priestesses I've exterminated over the decades!" Still speaking through clenched teeth, the muscles of his torso and arms visibly straining with the effort to hold her aloft by the thin piece of wire cord, blood dripping downward as said cord bit into exposed areas of finger flesh, it did not occur to him at the moment that she could not speak.

She tried to nod but it was kind of difficult her face and eyes getting more bulged..her skin getting blacker.

Leaning downward, to press his countenance against her own, the warmth of his sweet breath played against her skin, the tone of his voice adding perhaps to the inappropriately timed tingle she may feel, he began his verbal ministrations again. "Do you choose to throw your life away out of sheer spite for my flame-hair? Little wonder you arrogant bitches can never pull off the total subjugation of the Underdark." Now it occurred to him that she was attempting to nod. Smiling again with malice and triumph, he crept back up to one knee, and gave one last yank on that supple yet stout wire, perhaps hoping in some part that her neck would snap.

Growling to himself, making a great effort, he then stood, dragging her up with him, setting her feet upon solid ground once again, loosening his grip upon the garrote, allowing for air to rush into her lungs once more. He remained wary, however, as he knew no drowess would tolerate actions such as he had carried out against her. Perhaps she would not be so tough without her retinue of guards, however.

"Now, rather than waste your borrowed breath on retorts and proclamations of vengeance, I suggest we simply leave, for our pursuers will soon be here."

As Chessintra gasped for breath and struggled to get to her feet, she said in a low but matter of fact tone, "Your 'flame-hair' will die soon enough. She is under suspicion and if proven guilty she'll be executed. Sacrificed to Lloth!" She also managed to rasp out, "you with her. I'll or another who sees what transpired here will see to it male."

Vesz'aun considered her words for some long moments, both anger and surprise evident upon his visage. He then allows a frown to settle upon his handsome countenance, showing that he is not happy with what is occurring, and about to occur.

"Too bad it had to turn out like this, Ches...seeing as I'm already fucked, if your words are true, so shall you be. Farewell!" He then proceeds to shove her furiously off the small outcropping of rock, the anti-magic spell still in place so he knew levitation could and would not save her.

With that meager victory Chessintra didn't allow herself to smile instead she was moving forward to get out of there without a backward glance. Knowing even if he killed her now, the information relayed back will bring most if not all of Menzo on his black ass if not Lloth herself for what he admitted to.

Suddenly she slid and lost her footing momentarily as she felt the push after Vesz'aun spoke, but she was expecting an attack and was ready with her whip, the Scourge grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him with her. Her weight being bigger than his own.

Not expecting the dimwit to actually do anything but helplessly scream as she plummeted to her death. Vesz'zaun was indeed taken by surprise as the end of her snake headed whip wrapped painfully and abruptly around his arm and under her free-falling weight, he did indeed find himself plummeting also towards the clouds, then the ground, far below. "Damnable spawn of the Abyss! Fuck! Rrrr...mhnnn...aarghh!" Unable to formulate words at the moment, his anger managed to keep panic at bay for the moment, as realization came to him that he was too close to her, meaning he was caught up in the anti-magic field that surrounded her. The irony of it all was not lost on him. Growling again in frustration. He fumbled with the dagger he was intending to use to separate the strands of that damnable whip, it then proceeded to slip fully from his grasp. Cursing loudly once more, he did the only thing he could, and yanked upon the whip with his free hand, pulling them both temporarily closer together. Causing them to smash into one another, more inappropriately. Taking no pleasure in the warmth and softness of her curvaceous body against his, he then growled out to her, fumbling with the back of her dress. His leather-clad hand inadvertently grabbing at every inch of her shapely posterior as he tried to remove the gem. "Stupid motherfucking bitch oughta rip yer entrails out and feed 'em through your gods damned eyesockets, into the empty space where your fucking brain is supposed to be!"

As he was struggling and cursing to get back up, she just hung there saying a prayer aloud in furious chant despite the field being up. She had to try to survive and have this male punished for his transgressions against the Spider Queen. The chant was abruptly interrupted as they rubbed against one another but she shrugged it off and was fumbling to start again even as he played with the gem in her rear end. It was difficult though and the chant was choppy at best.

"Stop with the incessant babble! You're breaking my, mmff, concentration!" Vesz'aun said through clenched teeth. Grabbing a bit too forward, his bloodied fingers slipped partway into the folds of her most private of places. There was a slight frown of consternation which sprung to life as he realized she was in some way pleasured by this all, judging from the particular wetness he felt. "Gods, yer a sick bitch....." He said in true disgust. Now he just gave up, wrapped both his arms around her, and ripped apart the back of her dress, allowing for the gem to fall free of its roost at last.

Chessintra let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure as his fingers slipped and laughed as he made his statement. All chanting ceased.
Sputtering more inane words in her direction, Vesz'aun did what he could to roll and push himself away from her, trying to loosen the grip of that hated whip, intending now to feather fall safely to the ground. That damnable gem no longer hindering their magics. "And people say I've got issues." He muttered aloud.

Chessintra sniffed the air in a rude gesture a 'hmph' was a reply when the handsome Drow rolled away from her, looking upon him with irritance as he floated down. "Whats that..using levitation..thought it was wasteful..hmmm?" She retracted the Scourge. Not even hiding her nudity, she watched him go with a smirk. she did not attempt to go after him, she would find another way out without him.

Ere the Bladesinger could make any form of retort, they both found themselves disoriented as another bout of teleportation magics was worked upon them. When the momentary daze had worked itself off, both came to realize they were standing upon the lush, green fields of a storm ridden vale. Lightning playing between the clouds above, impertinent drops of rain spilling incessantly upon their heads. Silhouetted against that intermittently lit sky was the form of a human that the Bladesinger had made a brief acquaintance with, the interloper, Cogliostro.

When their eyes had adjusted to the shifting lights, both could easily see that another form, in apparently smoking, tattered cloth, was dangling from one of the human's hands. Upon further scrutiny, it became evident as the husk of what was until a short time ago one of their kindred, a drow. No smile, nor frown, upon his ageless countenance, merely a stoic glare, he spoke, glancing at each in turn before he spoke, "not that this situation hasn't brought some amusement to my soul, mind you, I believe it is time for it all to end." His gaze now settled upon the half nude drowess, "If you hadn't gathered, your witness to the transpiring of the day will no longer be able to give testimony....." He trailed off letting it hang in the wet air.

Realization and anger hit Chessintra hard, her plans had been ruined. No matter though, it was just a setback. She WOULD prove that Xull'rae was up to a grander plot and not as faithful to Lloth as she seemed.

She regarded the human with distaste but recognition. "You are the one the Zauviir bitch has been seen with!" She stared at the rather tall human with hatred and defiance, "we shall see Rivven..her treason is becoming more evident..although it's disgusting to think she'd stoop so low as to be with your kind!" The beautiful nude woman sneered, Her dress covering only scraps of her flesh. She had cause to be afraid but not daring to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

"If only you knew the entire scope of things, drowess...however, you know more than I'd like already. That will be remedied shortly." Came his calm reply. That was the last thing she heard, but the last thing she saw 'ere the darkness of slumber overtook her form was the Bladesinger going through something similar, and the eerie silver-blue glow playing in the human's oak brown orbs.

The contents of Xullrae are the property and copyright of Xullrae Zauvir, and are not to be published or redistributed without permission.

Previous Chapter

Return to the Xullrae main page

Return to Campaign Logs