Drow's Dilemma Ep. 117: Memories

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future. All characters that engage in sexual or suggestive situations are mentally and sexually mature: the human equivalent of 18 for their race.

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Episode 117: Memories

Lord Torernumir Mindshaper had a problem: his people were down there and he was up here. The path to down there was somewhere around here, but it could be anywhere in the vast rocky plains. The locals had no idea what he was talking about when he asked around about a cave that delved deeper into the ground than any of them were willing to go. It quickly became apparent that the only people who knew how to find this entrance to the underdark were the drow, and he sure as the abyss wasn't going to ask them for help.

... not that he had any choice. He was the only denizen of the underdark in this wretched, dirty town that boldy called itself The City of Rocks. It was a clever name, all things considered. Its inhabitants were all somewhere between human and orc. One could not expect creativity from such people. It was fortunate that the city didn't end up being called "Fight and Fuck a Ton," since that was all the creatures here did. No order. No refinement. No innovation.

Sadly, he had to be here. The best inn here was marginally better than sleeping in the wild, so in that inn he slept. In that inn he currently sat, too, drinking the best excuse for a beer he could find. There was no way he could cope with the methodical flying sweep of the wilds he had to do every day without the promise of alcohol when that wretched sun got to be too much for him to take.

In a way, though, it was like a vacation. He couldn't spend all day leading the Mindshaper clan and dealing with all the headaches they and their environment caused. Lord Torernumir could only get brief contact with them each day. He had just come from that meticulously planned ritual (apparently, most of the underdark was still reeling, but there were interesting tidbits about what the drow were doing mixed in with the too-short message.) Now he could put all that from his mind; there was literally nothing he could do about it until he managed to find that damned entrance and get back to his people.

Torernumir leaned back in his booth and sighed. In the corner, some unusually non-hideous female half-orc was gesturing around her. "I swear! I saw a dragon. Scales as green as emeralds she had. Bigger than two huts on top of each other, too! Scary as bitter soap in the eyes. Of course I ran! My ax was not going to do anything to those scales!"

"Really?" another female who looked like a hulking, much uglier version of the first speaker interjected with a gruff, dismissive tone. "There ain't no dragons around here. And how do you know if it was a she anyway?"

"Just guessed," the first half-orc grumbled. "Cause her scales were pretty. Like my eyes."

"You're as pretty as a gutted warthog, 'sister'."

Lord Mindshaper grunted in annoyance. He was never going to get used to the barbaric way these people talked. He didn't know this region's version of common naturally, but he was able to learn using a combination of his knowledge of standard common, his psychic intuition, and his staggering level of intelligence. Most of what he learned was that these people were very stupid, predictable, and uninteresting.

But he was interested in what they were talking about. A green dragon the size of two huts on top of each other? A formidable beast by the standards of average creatures. He was no average creature. If this she-orc was correct, there was someone he could seek out who would actually know the lands around here. But was it worth getting up and actually talking to this cretin?

Another long sigh huffed from his impressive, dark beard. He was desperate enough to get out of here. No one back home had to know that he was about to speak to someone that he wouldn't even consider good enough to be a slave on his estate.

"Oi, orc gel- no not you, ya half-wit. That one, who be boastin' bout the dragon," he yelled across the bar as he pushed himself from his booth with his massive, muscular arms. High Lord Torernumir strode across the room. Though he had to look up at the half-orc, he had a presence that exuded Tallness. "What can you tell me 'bout her?"

The half-orc looked down at the dwarf with glittering green eyes. It was clear that she had more intellect than the average resident here, but that was like being the daintiest boar in the vegetable garden. "You talk big for a little..." she started to say, but something in Lord Torernumir's body language stifled her. She swallowed, and her tone and language became much more polite, perhaps even a bit proper. "I saw the dragon about five thousand strides from here in the direction of the rising sun," she said in a low voice. "But only for a moment. I... I think she was transforming from one shape to another. And I left quickly. Green dragons eat orcs."

Torernumir unimpressed, cocked eyebrow stare turned into one of slight disgust. "Only if they are very desperate, and even then they'd 'avta' wash ya first. But you be right to run. She'd fuck you up if you got in her way."

He crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Ten-thousand strides. That's going to be a very different number for me, gel. Any landmarks nearby?" He could delve her brain for a more precise location, but that would mean that his mind would touch hers. Disgustin.

"There were a lot of trees and rocks?" the half-orc volunteered. "Big trees: mostly aspen but some whitecone pine. The rocks were granite with mottled grey-brown birdnest moss. There was a spring of water that had seven red and three blue stones sticking out of the pool at the waterfall where the ridge gives way to the lower land. There were more squirrels than most places: moss-blood green squirrels. Less birds than normal. Mostly whiteeye jays but there were a few bluecoat robins." She looked at Torernumir's legs, then at her own much longer ones. "Fifteen thousand strides for you."

Torernumir grumbled to himself about descriptions that were both excessively specific and still somehow not that helpful. "Fifteen thousand strides east in a forested area with a spring."

"Right! Oh, yeah. 'East'." The half-orc thought to herself. "Lots of deer around there. Some boar move through, but there is a dire-bear den windward... I mean, to the North. I was where the Ridge meets the Ledge. It's... where the land goes down sharply."

"-okay okay, that's enough. I think I can figure it out from there." The duergar interrupted before she could continue. With that, he began to turn to leave. But he paused when something occurred to him. "Ah, here," he said, flipping a small ruby in the half-orc's direction. They were everywhere in the caverns he called home, but quite rare here on the surface. He had tipped her handsomely. If she got word out that he had such trinkets, then the people of the city were much more likely to be helpful. And if they decided to rob him instead, well, it would be extremely cathartic to unleash some hell on these morons.

The half-orc's eyes went very wide, and she grabbed the ruby immediately and pocketed it. She then did a bad job of trying to appear casual. "Ah. Yes. Thank you," she said in a tone of forced ease. "I should be on my way."

"What did the dwarf give you, ranger?" the more orcish woman demanded.

"Pretty rock. But I just remembered that I am going to be late for a hunt." She scrambled out.

The High Lord barely stepped aside quickly enough to not be trampled by the half-orc he had been talking to. It then occurred to him that she might be in danger because of what he had tipped her. He chuckled in dark amusement. Then he gave himself a mundane aura, a psionic ability that made his next action seem like the most natural thing in the world: his tattoos and eyes brightened to a brilliant glow and he shot through the air towards the east.

As vaguely specific as the half-orc ranger's instructions were, Torernumir was able to find the spring indicated easier than he had anticipated. Not that there was a dragon to be seen. He did, however, hear some strangely ethereal singing coming from upstream. This suggested that nymphs were in the area, and there was nothing like a nymph for knowing the land. Except for a green dragon, perhaps. They were in general much weaker than a green dragon. He would have to overpower her, of course, because there was no way that a nymph would willingly cooperate with the likes of him.

As he walked towards the sound, he realized that he passed seven red and three blue stones just where the half-orc said they would be. He already had a hunch that he could trust her description, but now he was absolutely certain that she saw a green dragon. Whether or not the dragon was real or was just a magical projection meant to chase away unwanted visitors was still to be determined.

Then, the wind and singing stopped. There was silence for a few long moments before a malicious giggling weaved through the trees along with the returned wind. The singing resumed.

"Lord of the mind

What do you find?

Out in the sun

Never for fun

Seeking your own kind?"

It was in perfect Duergar Undercommon.

Torernumir paused. Well, that was unsettling. He was no longer sure that this was going to a straight-forward interrogation. But... he didn't feel any especially powerful aura. He was confident that, even if this was a green dragon, he would be able to defeat it. Unless it was ancient, of course. He began grumbling to himself again. He would have to risk it to get home; now he was certain that whatever this was could guide him to the Underdark if only he could pry it out of them. So, he continued forward.

Following the singing, he found himself next to another pool, this one with a single large stone in the center, where a nymph with emerald green hair, closed eyes, and a too-wide smile sat. Like any of her kind, she wore nothing but her flesh, and her nude beauty was painful to look upon, though the effect was dulled on one such as Torernumir who valued such things not. Usually.

The nymph stopped singing and turned towards him, her too-broad grin getting broader, but her eyes remaining shut. "What brings a duergar here, of all places?" she asked in a sickly-sweet voice, still in his native language. "I had thought your kind never came to the surface if they could help it."

"Only when in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now if you can point me to the nearest entrance to the Underdark, I would gladly return to where I belong," Torernumir stated, suddenly very desirous of being elsewhere. This 'nymph' reminded him of something, but he wasn't sure what. He was sure that it was dangerous.

"'Wrong place at the wrong time', you say? Were you... perhaps... caught in the collapse of Duskhaven Cavern?" The 'nymph' opened her eyes, her smile unnaturally frozen. Her eyes were far, far too large, and very green. "I know all the paths of this part of the world, above and below. But I give nothing for free, duergar."

His lips thinned behind his beard. That response was to be expected. Annoying, but expected. "If your price is reasonable, then I will give it in exchange for knowledge. Do you care for precious gems?"

The woman smiled, no longer close-lipped, showing teeth much too sharp for a nymph. "Gold, mythril, peridot, malachite, verdelite, aventurine, jade, emeralds, green diamonds... These I value greatly. But I value other things more. Knowledge is the most precious thing in this world. Far too easily shared by some, I know you would agree. But my bargains are always fair, and my contracts are always, always enforced. Knowledge for knowledge, I ask. Starting with names. You may call me... Varynae."

Knowledge... he would much rather give her the gems - which were all the same color, he noted: Green. He would go along with it for now, however; there were certain pieces of knowledge he didn't mind sharing. If it got to be too much, he could give her an emerald he was saving for a dire situation.

"I am High Lord Turernumir Mindshaper. What is the knowledge you seek, Varynae?"

"A true name for an assumed one: you are generous for one of your kind!" Varynae giggled. "I have many questions for one such as you. Starting with why a duergar was caught in the collapse of Duskhaven. What mischief brought you to my old cavern?" With the word 'my', the sky darkened and the ground around shook. Only for the briefest of moments, but the claim at ownership was clearly emphasized.

Torernumir denied the grin that threatened to appear. That was no true name that he had given her, just the one he took the most pride in. But he had still given her more information than she had given him. She evened the score slightly when she claimed the cavern that had collapsed. From that he could tell that she must have been that green dragon the ranger saw, and that she was very, very dangerous.

... and then he had another realization: he knew why he recognized this creature. She was the wrong race and gender, but she was most certainly the mercenary, Varas, all the same. He had seen him/her through Ashyr's memories that they shared while imprisoned in that horrid place.

"I was trying to prevent the destruction of the Underdark," he explained while all this raced through his mind.

"You recognize me now," Varynae smiled. As always. "You never met Varas, but you knew of him, did you not? A cunning one you are. Saving the Underdark, you say? So, you were caught up in that nasty business of gods and archdevils. And it did not go well for you. Perhaps you were caught up in that Prison of Hell? And there you met one Ashyr Duskhaven, no doubt."

The High Lord's eyes narrowed. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that the 'nymph' could read his mind. But he had a feeling that the apparent psychic ability was simply intelligence that surpassed his own.

"Your mental wards secure your mind from mine, High Lord," Varynae confirmed. "Rest easy on that score. I merely deduce from given information. You have lived a long time, and learned much, but I was old when your clan was founded. I do not need to read a mind to tell its thoughts."

"Apparently not. What you guessed is more or less true. What interest do you have in Ashyr? You would not have named her specifically if you did not want to know more about her," Torernumir observed.

"I underestimated her importance greatly. She was in my hands, and I gave her away. I was under contract, after all, but I did not consider that the dutifully rebellious mother's rebelliously dutiful daughter would have such an interest in that family. I thought my cavern was my playground, not that of the gods. And now, I want to know more about Ashyr Duskhaven and the company she keeps. For a great fate is weaved around her now. So, pray tell, High Lord, what do you know of Ashyr Duskhaven? Your psionic prying surely has allowed you to learn much."

"I do know almost everything she knows about herself, and more besides when combined with my own knowledge and intellect. She is impulsive and libidinous. So much so that she had made herself the plaything of fate. The only thing truly exceptional about her is her personality and her ancestry. She is not particularly powerful. She is not very responsible. She isn't even that beautiful for one of her kind. She simply - and accidentally - gets herself involved with people far more powerful than she is, then fucks them. That was my relationship with her and my knowledge of her."

"Was," Varynae observed. "So, things have changed. But I know that much." She looked around her, eyes open but narrow with thought. "Well then, High Lord. Tell me a story of Ashyr. How you met her. What brought the two of you together. That sort of thing. And when your story is at an end, I will tell you how to get back to your home."

"Fine," Torernumir said after a bit of thought. The information he had was not sensitive anymore; it seemed a small price to pay for the information he desperately needed. It was just going to take a slightly annoying amount of time.

"The first time I met Ashyr was about a century back. I was merely a high-ranking member of the Mindshaper clan. I was overseeing a project that required the acquisition of lampads who were, naturally, in the wilds rather far from the Clanhouse. Drow were known to patrol the area, but only very rarely. I assumed we would not be interrupted. My assumptions were false. When I was questing out for the reported lampad nest, I felt a presence hiding in a stalk grove. Its mental signature was nothing like that of the morose fae that I was searching for. It didn't seem particularly powerful either. Typically, it was something that I would have ignored, but since our current mission involved the development of weapons against our enemies, we could not have a spy afford to report back to their people."

Torernumir stopped his spoken narration - all spoken in proper Undercommon without a hint of accent that he sometimes slipped into when he was annoyed or under pressure - and simply projected the memory out as if the two of them were silent observers. There was even sound to go with the images; it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Torernumir knew it to be disturbing to non-psionics, but he had a feeling that it took a lot more to unsettle this dragon.

"You might as well come out. I know you are there," Torernumir's voice projected into both the duergar and the dragon's minds. "Don't make me force you out." The younger Torernumir was standing at the edge of a small mushroom forest. He looked much the same as he did in the present, though he wore more armor and he was missing about half of his tattoos.

A set of red eyes framed by platinum white hair and charcoal skin poked out from behind the rock that Torernumir was facing. The female drow stepped from her hiding space with an expression of wary curiosity. Ashyr also looked pretty much the same, though her hair barely had any trinkets at all and she was missing most of her scars. The projection of Torernumir looked startled for a moment.

"It seems that you initially mistook her for someone else," Varynae said pleasantly. "Someone you did not expect to see."

"Ah, yes," The High Lord confirmed, looking annoyed. "I thought for that moment that she was Ashnathyr, the founder of the drow city on the other side of the drow settlement. I had never seen that drowess in person, but our storykeepers remember her from the wars almost a thousand years back. Our people hated her for the hand she played in preventing our invasion. But this drowess could not have been her; Ashnathyr was reported on good authority to have died a couple of decades back. Once I looked past this one's grin, I could see that there were some differences. Now can we continue?"

"Ah, Ashnathyr. My beloved enemy. How I hated and enjoyed her," Varynae reminisced. "Please, High Lord, continue."

"What are you doing here, gel?" the projection of Torernumir asked with a put-upon expression.

The drowess bit her lip in an amused, excited expression. "I'm in deep shit, aren't I? Any way I can convince you to let me go? I could promise not to tell anyone what I've seen, but I guess you probably won't believe me."

"You guess correctly," the duergar grumbled.