A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 21: Northward

Story Info
Caleldir leads the drow north towards his cursed homelands.
7.5k words
4.74
10.3k
9

Part 21 of the 99 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/09/2017
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

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.

*****

Episode 21: Northward

Both Selene and Ashyr waited for Caleldir directly in front of the vine-covered gate of the unnamed druid town, having finished their preparations before Caleldir did. They spoke with one another softly in their native tongue of what happened in their home city. They hadn't gotten a chance to properly catch Ashyr up on what exactly happened. Their faces were very serious by the time Cal approached them. Ashyr smiled softly at him, then handed him the voluminous hunter green cloak that was in her arms. It was a very well-made garment, though it wasn't very fancy. If he wanted it to look better, he could probably cast some illusion that did so. The important part was that rain wouldn't pass through the fabric, and it would keep the cold at bay. It was large enough to also serve as another blanket for when they slept.

"Are you ready?" The older cousin asked him. Someone behind her must have heard her words, because the gate to the city opened up enough to let everyone pass through.

"Of course I am ready!" Caleldir said with jubilation. He put on the cloak, stroking the fabric a bit. "Thank you very much. This garment will make all the difference." Since the cloak was dark green - the most common color available in a settlement of druids - he waved his hand as the rest of his outfit took on similar hues of brown and green, making him look like a stereotypical elven archer, minus the bow. "I should probably find a weapon at some point." He frowned. "For now, a simple staff will do. I will grab one from the woods as we walk."

With that, the trio bid farewell to the city. Caleldir quickly took the lead. "The Shifting Halls of Eternity, which is what the monastery I knew as the Everlasting Halls is now known as, is 467 miles and 1235 feet nor by nor west from here, where High Basin Lake drains from the Ghost Mountains into the Silverwheat Valley." He shrugged. "Due to the curse, I always know exactly how far I am from the place, and what direction it is in. So, for now, we will just begin walking in that direction until we run into something entertaining. Unless someone has a map that tells us a better route."

Ashyr looked in the general direction that Caleldir said his homeland. Her brow furrowed for a moment in concentration as she converted the measurements and then did the math in her head. "No, I don't have a map..." She said in absent thought. "But I do know of an old overgrown road that heads that direction. Anyway, 467 miles... That's a good fifteen days walk if we could just walk in a straight line. Since we probably can't, it'll be a longer than that. Perhaps twice that, even." It sounded like a daunting journey to a drow who never was more than a couple hundred miles from the entrance of her homelands. Even so, Ashyr's eyes shone with the excitement of it. Thirty years was far too long for her to be on the surface and not go on a grand trek to strange lands.

The younger cousin, who was not as fond of the surface as Ashyr, let out a small groan at the other drow's lengthy estimate. This was exactly why she chose to wield magic and not be a ranger; long ventures were not her thing. Though she wasn't looking forward to the trip, Selene's expression was resolute. Where else did she have to go? Besides, there was the promise of a fascinating (albeit horrifying) structure of a long-lost, technologically advanced society to explore. And the artifacts to go with it. That, at least, was worth looking forward to.

"I really doubt that it will take thirty day's journey." Caleldir furrowed his brow. "Unless, of course, we run into obstacles, which, given our usual luck, is distressingly likely." He gave a contemplative look at the cousins. Ashyr seemed happier than Selene, but that was pretty predictable. Deciding that walking in silence would be awkward, he attempted to start up a conversation about magic with Selene. He could not cast most of it, but knew the theories incredibly well, and was more than pleased to float hypotheses and discuss methodology, should she care to do so with him.

Selene at first begrudgingly engaged in conversation with him on magic. As they spoke, however, she became more relaxed and animated. It was, after all, her life's work. If she had the chance, she would spend days practicing her art and trying to experiment with new spells. Such luxuries had not been available to her recently. In the end, she seemed glad that there was someone around to have what she would consider an intelligent conversation with. Ashyr wasn't much help in that department - not because she wasn't smart, but because she rarely read and the little magic she knew was something she did without really trying to understand it.

In fact, Ashyr soon grew bored with whatever nonsense they were talking about. Her mind began to wander, and her feet followed suit. The other two had a road, after all, they didn't need her help to follow it. The ranger would see slight movement in the underbrush, and she and Bard would hurtle off into the forest to happily give chase. By the time midday rolled by, Ashyr had rejoined the group empty-handed. Bard, however, soon came trotting into view with a maw full of a particularly large rabbit. Ranger and wolf looked energized from their miniature adventure.

The mid-morning sun had cleared away the morning damps, but it was not yet strong enough to be oppressive. Combined with the light breeze blowing through the trees, the day promised to be a beautiful one indeed. A little before the afternoon, though, the weather began to change, high cold winds whipped through the woods, and the sky began to darken with ominous clouds. Then, the moment the sun reached its zenith, it all died down, as if nothing had happened.

"That was odd." Caleldir observed. "Unnatural, even." He squinted his eyes. Up ahead, at a crossroads, there stood what looked to be a stooped old man, hooded and cloaked. "Looks like we have company." He said with a smile. "I wonder if they had anything to do with the weird weather."

Both Selene and Ashyr looked disturbed by the sudden unnatural winds. On the one hand, it looked like it was about to block out the sun. For a drow, this was usually a relief. They weren't willing to trade bad weather for sun, however. Then there was the strange figure in the middle of the road. Stooped old men just standing in the middle of the road rarely meant that pleasant times were in store. Ashyr shifted into a slightly more confident stance (she already walked as if she owned the world) and traveled beside Caleldir. Selene fell slightly back behind the two of them to watch the stranger, her crimson eyes heavy with suspicion.

The old hooded man stood with his back to the group. Caleldir narrowed his eyes in suspicion, his expression rather similar to Selene's, actually. But there was no sense antagonizing the fellow, especially given the enormous probability that he was a powerful wizard or shapeshifted dragon or something. So, he cheerfully greeted him. "Good afternoon, good fellow." He began. "Can we help you on this fine day?"

The clouds began to return, the sun soon winking out behind them. The old man stood up very straight. "You can indeed, Caleldir Hissael, as can your companions, Ashyr and Selene of House Duskhaven." He turned around, his hood falling off. He stood at a good six foot seven, or more, with sharp, craggy features and eyes that were spheres of unrelieved black. He smiled.

Ashyr and Selene both stood a little straighter, their chins lifted in arrogant defiance to hear their names called out so accurately. On Selene, the expression was completely serious, maybe even a little angry. Ashyr's eyes, however, shone with mischief. Neither changed their expression when the stooped man stood up straight and faced them with that ancient-looking visage.

Caleldir took a step backwards. "Father?" He said in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

The older cousin's gazed flicked over towards Caleldir. This was his father. She looked between them to try to discern familial similarities. Otherwise, her face still held confident, mischievous arrogance. Selene kept her expression carefully still. For the time being, both drow remained silent. Whatever was going on, Caleldir was best suited to communicating with this man. Probably.

Without pupils, it was hard to see exactly where Caleldir's father's eyes were pointed, but he at least appeared to be giving each of the party a long, searching look. Finally, he shook his head. "I cannot say I approve of your companions, Caleldir." He said sadly. "Aralolth worshipers are not trustworthy, like their foul shaper." His voice was refined and aristocratic; even listening to him speak made the listeners feel inferior. Probably because of the mind-affecting magic in his gaze. The craggy-faced man sighed with the weight of centuries, and continued before anyone could summon a retort. "But the worst part is how little of your potential you have lived up to. You probably even still think that we are elves like them." He gestured vaguely towards the two drow. "In death and life, you continue to disappoint me."

Caleldir looked upset, and a little bit angry. "I have no idea what you want from me." He said angrily. "And I ask that you do not insult the Duskhavens."

"Why not?" The ancient man furrowed his brow. Well, at least his body language was similar to Caleldir's. "I have said nothing untrue. They are corrupting you, and you are too much a fool to see it. What have they convinced you to do in the last few weeks that you would never have otherwise done?" Caleldir did not answer, his mouth hanging open. His father had a point. A very good point. The old fellow shook his head sadly.

The Duskhavens didn't look very insulted. In fact, Ashyr looked like she was on the verge of laughter. Yeah. They had "corrupted" Caleldir. Neither of them felt like that was a bad thing... or really even corruption for that matter. It wasn't as if they'd made him commit atrocities. If anything, they were helping him realize his true potential. He would have gotten absolutely nowhere guarding that caravan. It was thanks to the both of them that he was going out on bigger and better adventures. What had this man tried to do to make his son into something he could be proud of? Nothing, until now apparently. Ashyr was about to open her mouth to say as much. Caleldir's father had different ideas.

"I think that it is high time to teach you a lesson, Goelon Duvainor." Suddenly, the old man bore a bastard sword in each hand, and leapt towards Caleldir, driving his blades towards his heart.

Selene backpedaled from the two males. The younger drow did not try to help or hinder either side. After all, if Caleldir died, then he'd just go all terrifying and therefore more useful. She couldn't care less about how unpleasant it would be for Cal. Ashyr's automatic reaction was to draw her own blades, which were curved, quick things very different from the old man's weapon. She couldn't stand idly by while Cal looked so upset. She stepped towards the two men with a feral grin spread across her face, though she was too late to defend Cal from that initial attack.

Caleldir yanked up his quarterstaff in an effort to ward off his father's attack, but it was an utterly futile effort. The older man easily bore past it, stabbing his son through the heart. Caleldir started to go transparent, his hair turning white from the roots up, but before Ashyr could intervene his father hit him with another half-dozen attacks, and Caleldir's transformation halted, his hair returning to black. The younger man crumpled on his father's blades. The craggy man wrenched his blades out, not leaving a wound, and kicked his son's body off to the side. Caleldir lay there looking actually, truly dead, and, as his illusionary clothing could no longer be sustained, naked save for the cloak Ashyr had purchase for him.

Something in Ashyr's mind snapped when, seconds later, she could process what just happened. It felt like a red haze settled in front of her vision and wrenched everything from Ashyr's mind save for one emotion that seared through her body like molten metal. Rage. The look on her face made Selene's often crazed expressions look absolutely calm and cordial. Ashyr was beyond words, beyond thought. She was going to Fuck. Him. Up.

The older man effortlessly warded off Ashyr's blades that immediately came after. "Admirable." He said. "You show more spirit than I gave you credit for." He stepped back, and struck a two-weapon fighting stance that was eerily reminiscent of hers. "Show me what you are made of, Drow!"

The younger drow groaned when she saw Caleldir fall what looked like for good this time. There went her chance to loot an ancient monastery. It was an unfortunate waste. "You know, generally, dead people can't learn lessons." She admonished. But then her eyes fell upon her cousin. That look on her snarling face was absolutely horrifying. And it meant that they were going to have to fight a guy who managed to stab a ghost to death. Fabulous. Selene back-pedaled a little farther, gestured quickly, and five magic missiles burst from her fingertips and shot towards Caleldir's father. Meanwhile, Ashyr fell upon the strange elf with a banshee scream. Her weapons were a blur in her hands, but not quite the sheer speed that Cal's father managed before. She may have had a century and a half of practice, but this guy must have had over a thousand years.

There was a mad smile on the old man's face. "Yes... yes! show me your skill!" Warding away Ashyr's attacks with one blade and, with his arm a blur too fast to follow, his other blade disappeared. His eyes flashed hypnotically, and the missiles vanished in the air, and Selene was hit with a terrifically potent hold person spell. "I am not interested in you yet." He said emotionlessly. "Wait your turn."

Shock crossed Selene's features as her spell simply... fizzled out. Then she couldn't move. It must have been an impossibly powerful spell to overcome her spell resistance. She struggled against it impotently, trying to move, speak, do anything. But all she could do was watch and breathe. The breathing part was good, she liked that bit. The watching part, however... it was too much like the things she was forced to endure the past couple months. In a situation very similar to this, she watched the rape, torture, and death of her matron, mother, sisters, cousins, daughter. She could see them now in front of her eyes, all condensed into the last person she had who seemed to be in a similar amount of peril. Selene began to panic so hard that she would have fallen over if it weren't for the spell that kept her up. Her immobile limbs when completely numb, and her heart felt like it was going to explode. Tears that she could not hold back flowed freely down her face.

Turning back to Ashyr, he returned to mimicking exactly her method of two-weapon fighting. "Your anger over my son is touching, but misplaced." He said stoically, moving just fast enough to counter each of her attacks, and attacking just fast enough that Ashyr could barely ward him off, "Caleldir is not dead: merely in a chrysalis state. He will emerge soon enough. Now! Show me your skills!" The old man went on the offensive, throwing out attacks that Ashyr had no way of blocking, but pulling back his blades just before they bit into her flesh. "Your anger is channeled well, but it leaves you open." He said conversationally. "You leave an opening over your left hip when you use the Dozen Spiders Maneuver."

It would have made Ashyr feel a lot better if she could understand what Caleldir's father was saying. Unfortunately, she was too angry for comprehension. There was only one thing she could focus on, and that was trying to murder the guy in front of her in the most painful way possible. It didn't seem to be working all that well, but not for lack of trying. She wouldn't - couldn't - stop until she was killed or her body was completely incapacitated.

Caleldir's father shook his head. "You still need to control your anger." He said gently. "I have seen enough. You pass. I will allow you to accompany my son." With that, he stabbed through her defenses, landing a blow in her heart. It felt like a cold lance of energy, but not at all like an actual blade. "Enjoy the runes." He said flatly. A numbness flowed over Ashyr's limbs, causing her to crumple. She did stay conscious, however, and was able to laboriously drag herself to Caleldir's still unmoving form.

Bard, who had not been present for the first minutes of the confrontation, bounded into the road and between his mistress and the strange man. In probably the most aggressive thing he'd ever done in his entire life, he snarled at the guy. Ashyr desperately tried to keep him quiet, to make him go away and hide. The dumb wolf would have none of it. He apparently determined that Ashyr didn't know what she was doing or thinking, and that she needed his help.

The man turned towards the wolf. "Back down, creature." He said. Meeting its eyes, he hit the wolf with an absurdly potent domination spell. Bard whined and backed up slightly. The wolf was apparently determined to stay between Ashyr and Caleldir's father for as long as his mistress couldn't properly fight.

The craggy man's blades vanished, and he turned towards Selene. He waved his hands, and the spells holding her vanished. "You, I am not so sure of." He said with hostility. "You have dealt with a lot, I am sure, but you need to grow past it. Channel that hurt towards your foes, not your friends or yourself!" His voice was harsh and profoundly unsympathetic. There was little room in the old warrior's heart for the travails of some Aralolth worshiper. A fireball appeared in his hand. "Now, mage, show me your magic!"

Selene fell to her knees when she was no longer held by his magic. She was at war with her own mind, and, while she was trapped with no escape, her mind was winning. Instinctually, she gestured quickly to buy her some more time. Three dire wolves the size of horses appeared and immediately charged at Caleldir's father. In the meantime, Selene scrambled to her feet and continued backing away.

"Summoning, a good choice." He complimented. Raising his hand, he banished them back to wherever they came from. He shook his head to see her back away. "I suppose that I can let you slide; your cousin has shown enough gumption for both of you." He disappeared, and appeared behind her, shooting out his blade through her heart. "You deserve it not, but I will give you a rune as well." He said gruffly.

Selene fell to the road with a thump and small puff of dust when she was stabbed through the heart. She struggled even still with the visions of what she had gone through. The younger drow curled up in a tight ball and tried to get her breathing under control, else she was likely to pass out from hyperventilation. Caleldir's father had been right; she needed to learn how to deal with all this trauma. If this happened with someone who actually wanted to kill her, she would be already dead. Somehow, that thought wasn't at all helpful.

"Farewell, ladies Duskhaven." The old man said as he folded his arms. "We will meet again. I hope that you have more to offer me next time." He vanished in a twinkle of teleportation.