A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 52: Tsabdrin

Althaia leaned against the wall of the pocket dimension. "I feel no need to watch you bathe. R.I.S.A. can sense you if you do anything silly. Besides, I have your allosauruses. I am sure that your cousin will eventually come round and allow me to resurrect them, provided you behave yourself." She waved in the direction of the bath, and sauntered off to another room.

Tsabdrin shook his head. He had little hope despite what the improbably beautiful women told him. Wait. Who was this Risa person everyone was talking about? She could sense him? Was she some sort of personal deity with a voice and no form for whatever strange place Ashyr pulled him into? But they were ordering her around like she was some sort of servant... "Who the fuck is Risa..." He mumbled to himself in undercommon as he tossed over his shoulder a small twig he'd found in his hair. With a sullen look, he slid into the bath and began to clean the detritus from his white hair. His motions were half-hearted at best, and slightly weak besides. With the bruising gone and the mud beginning to wash away, it became increasingly easy to see how his frame was a bit too slender to be healthy.

Although Althaia was not watching Tsabdrin, she certainly was listening to him. The nymph did not speak Undercommon, but she could recognize the question in his tone when he muttered R.I.S.A.'s name. "Not Risa, drow." She teased. "R.I.S.A." Of course, she had said the same thing twice, since one did not pronounce the periods, but the second time she had said it a bit more robotically, a more exaggerated way of the machined way that R.I.S.A. spoke. Knowing full well that he could not possibly have understood what she was implying, Althaia continued. "R.I.S.A. is an acronym. It stands for Roving Intellectual Security Animation. She is an A.I., which stands for Animating Intellect. Think of her as being a sentient golem with a soul and without a body." Which was nothing like a golem. "This pocket dimension is her domain."

[That is correct.] R.I.S.A. said neutrally. [Inside this realm, I am nigh omnipotent. I can change the rules of this universe however I see fit. Do not try anything.]

Althaia's explanation, predictably, did not make all that much sense to Tsabdrin. He blinked. She's not Risa, she's Risa with a slightly different accent. Her name, meant something longer than it was, but his common wasn't good enough for him to understand what the hell she was talking about. She's a golem that's nothing like a golem. Who could change the natural rules of an entire house on a whim. That sounded like a Goddess to him, if a very local one. A goddess servant. "What sort of insanity did my cousin get herself into..." He grumbled, again in undercommon.

--

Selene had made it just inside the inn before she fell apart. The sight of the drow male partially responsible for her gang rape - in addition to him generally looking like some of the people who abused her so monumentally - had set her off again. She managed to keep it together while in front of her brother, but only for so long. She sat leaned against the wall right next to the doorframe. The youngest drow hugged her knees tightly and shuddered with the effort of getting herself back under control. It looked like she was only having partial success. At least she wasn't making a fool of herself by openly weeping. But her eyes were wide and her lips moved with silently spoken words of self-comfort.

Caleldir approached Selene quietly, sitting down next to her without a word. Comforting the prickly drow was something that he had not yet mastered. How did one comfort a rape-victim having flashbacks? Caleldir did not really know. His situation was quite a bit different from hers, mostly because, despite vaguely similar traumas (forced sex) Caleldir was straight-up immune to that sort of psychological damage. The worst he had suffered was an awkward fetish. He did not know if this was because he was a man, and men did not have that sort of trauma from rape (probably not, he had seen plenty of evidence that other men did) or that his damage reduction protected him from PTSD too, but he really could not relate to any similar events in his life that had affected him in the same way. Perhaps Goelon could, but even though the brutal ghost had a soft spot for Selene, he was not exactly a therapist. The sadistic man would probably just hang around awkwardly if summoned, and then rush off to turn himself back. Not useful.

His lips made a thin line across his face as he considered the situation. Should he give her a hug? That was his first instinct when trying to comfort someone, and Selene had even begun to respond well to that recently. But how would one remembering unwanted sexual violation respond to physical contact? He sighed. No, he could not initiate a hug, not unless she made clear that she wanted one.

Looking out of one of the windows at the profusion of greenery around the inn, Caleldir smiled a little, his expression a bittersweet thing. "It is peaceful here. It should be the peace of death, and yet, it is not. No screaming souls hovering around looking for vengeance, just the forest." He turned to Selene. "You survived my home, have already faced down being thrust back into your worst memories, and have survived. Nay, you came back out even more resilient. Selene, you are a woman whose soul holds great strength. But it is not wise to be strong alone. If you need me, I am here for you."

Selene had buried her face in her knees when she saw Caleldir enter the building and sit next to her. She was quiet and motionless as he spoke to her. Even after he was done talking, she did not try to respond for several long moments. "I didn't really face those memories back there." She admitted softly. "It broke me again to relive them." Her voice turned bitter, "I wasn't even mobile until Althaia pumped me with so many spells of courage that I felt drugged." But after that she had been able to use those memories as a weapon against the fake Caleldir, hadn't she? She had to be strong then because she had to save her unborn daughter.

The drow mage actually leaned against Caleldir then, and she let him put an arm around her. "It's not like I don't know I'm not back there. But then I saw his face, I remembered the part he played... and then it's like logic doesn't even matter any more." Frustration was clear in her voice. She snuffed, and shut her eyes tightly. No tears managed to fall yet.

"At least it's better than it was." She let out a very short amused scoff. "Can you believe that you used to make this happen to me?" He tone was derisive when she said this - like she was insulting him somehow. Selene was still Selene, and anything that sounded remotely like an indication of emotional attachment needed to be avoided at all costs regardless of the truth of the matter.

"I remember that. You were rather... prickly back then. But emotionally you are healing fairly well." He sighed. "Well, by drow standards, at least." He made the last bit something of a joke, a light dig in return for her derisive tone. He had not heard everything that had happened in the monastery, but enough to know that Selene was not know quite as much of a wreck as she had been. The fact that she was comfortable around him was proof enough of that.

"We should probably note that your brother Tsabdrin is, as of now, no threat to you." Caleldir continued. "I know that you know that intellectually, but it bears repeating. If nothing else, Althaia could break him like a twig if she wanted." Which was something of an amusing thought, although he would not be amused if it actually happened.

Selene let out a slightly less restrained laugh. "Yes, I do believe she's almost twice his size." She leaned into him for a moment before letting out a prolonged, shaky breath. Then she pulled away from him entirely and got to her feet.

"We might as well continue what we started here." Her eyes fell on the discarded pile of food and supplies in the middle of the floor. "We were almost done." She didn't look entirely recovered, but having something to focus on would probably help. In the end, she was glad of his presence. He'd proven that he could support her when they were in danger, and that extra protection alone helped her feel just a bit better. Not that there was anything dangerous now beyond her own memories.

Caleldir rose to his feet as Selene did. "I agree. No sense sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves. We have looting to do!" He gave her a mischievous grin..

Ashyr walked into the room when Selene began to recast her carrying disk spell. The ranger gave to mage a soft smile. "Everything okay?" She asked. Ashyr wanted to touch her or hug her or something, but didn't want to interrupt the spell.

"I don't know why it wouldn't be." Selene responded haughtily.

The older drow rolled her eyes. "No, of course not." She agreed with only a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Your brother is healed and bathing. I wanted to wait until everyone can be there to question him. We probably shouldn't give him too much time to think about what he's going to reveal and what he's not."

"Everything is fine." Caleldir stated. "When you wish to put the male of Duskhaven on the witness stand, I will be ready."

All three of them worked together to get the supplies from the inn onto Selene's invisible carrying disk. There was more than enough to feed a druid town-sized army. Ashyr explained that she didn't find anything very useful in the houses. When the people had left, they apparently took their useful personal possessions and food stores. All the spare things were stored here in the main building. It made sense, seeing as the town was mostly communistic. In short order, the three of them gathered everything useful and made the quick trip out into the rain and back into R.I.S.A's dimension.

By the time they got back to the rest of the party, Tsabdrin was finally slipping out of the bathwater. As it turned out, R.I.S.A. definitely did have a way of cleaning the water. And everything else in her little domain, up to and including the people, but filtering the water was fairly simple. So when Tsabdrin pulled himself from the tub, it was from one as clean as himself. Finally his hair was free of detritus and clung damply to his face and shoulders. The pure white locks were at least as long as Ashyr's. The rest of him was no longer caked in mud as well, which made it all the more clear how malnourished he was. That fact was not lost on Ashyr. She approached him, and her fingers brushed across exposed ribs, and for a moment she looked as if she were angry and the ribs themselves. "Haven't you been feeding yourself?"

"Um. Well... nonotreally..." Tsabdrin admitted quietly. His hands shifted again to cover himself after he was safely out of the tub. "The Port Afron army wiped out or scared off all the game over a week ago. Can I please have some clothes?"

Ashyr ignored his request for the moment. "Is that why you were here? Gathering food for the rest of the Duskhaven males?"

Even if Ashyr ignored his request for clothing, Caleldir did not. He would prefer the drow male dressed, to be honest. "R.I.S.A.?" He nodded his head towards Tsabdrin. A towel and a robe appeared on the wall next to him. Tsabdrin took the towel that appeared beside him with relief clear in his features and began drying himself off. He put on to robe before scrubbing the towel in his hair to keep himself as modest as possible in front of his sister and the strange woman apparently named Althaia. Both those women received self-conscious looks, but he didn't seem at all worried about Ashyr's presence. She didn't seem interested in leering at him anyway. If she looked at him, it was to assess his health and nothing further.

"No. I'm 'The New Ashyr.' That's exactly what they called me word-for-word." Tsabdrin explained as he made himself more modest. "Except Irahc'vic tried to kill you three times for, like, no reason. Didn't like the implications. So I'm sort of... missing in action... The rest of them aren't here. They're letting Port Afron be, I guess. You did a really good job with sewing chaos. They'll probably come and conquer once the dust settles." He spoke in undercommon, since that was the language he was the most comfortable speaking.

"That all sounds terrible." Caleldir said with sympathy, looking aghast at how thin their captive was. If the miserable drow was telling the truth, then he was a sorry fellow indeed "No, no they will not come and conquer once the dust settles." He said in a pleasant tone, his Undercommon finally perfect. "You see, we are going to conquer Port Afron first. Then we are coming for them. Of course, now that I have told you that, we cannot let you return to them and give them warning. So, at the first sign of trying to escape, we will be imprisoning and/or killing you, do you understand?"

"I won't warn them." He promised softly. His cobalt eyes stared towards the ground as he said this.

Caleldir translated what their captive said to the nymph, and Althaia stepped over to him and ruffled his white hair, looking down on him rather fondly. Tsabdrin made an indignant noise. "I believe you, man of Duskhaven. After all, what could you possibly gain from choosing them over us? They can't revive your dinosaurs, and you seem like the type who would rather be on the winning side." She put him in what was halfway between an affectionate headlock and a warning one for a few seconds before stepping away. He didn't even try to do anything to stop her as she put him in a headlock. The obscenely beautiful woman was twice his size and strength. If he struggled, she could very easily hurt him. It was clear from his face how much he disliked being handled without permission.

"Now that we have established that Tsabdrin is not plotting against us in a nefarious double-cross, I am going to leave all you Undercommon Speakers here to discuss details. I am going to help R.I.S.A. sort through all of the supplies that were brought in. Now that this place has multiple rooms, there is no need for us all to be in the same one." A doorway appeared in the wall, and the nymph exited the main chamber, the wall returning to its normal state behind her.

Tsabdrin frowned - hard - and gave her a dirty look. Except then he got distracted by the way her body moved when she walked. The male drow had to shake himself from straying thoughts and make an effort to look back at the people who were trying to get information from him. Thankfully, in the next moment the strange pale woman was gone.

Ashyr nodded, but there was still suspicion in her eyes. She closed off the entrance to the portal now that all the supplies were within. No need to risk letting Tsabdrin free despite his promise. After all, theirs was a culture where promises meant absolutely nothing. "Who all is involved in this, and what are their roles?" She asked.

"Duagmyr, Adinyraen, Irahc'vic, and Ethefein." Tsabdrin provided immediately. "Duagmyr's calling himself Patron now. Irahc'vic is controlling the army - all male, of course, and half magical. Adinyraen is in charge of the breeding program to get the numbers back up, but I have no idea what he's going to do without you and Selene. Ethefein is arranging the rest of the resources: livestock and farms. They have someone else who's in trade, and I don't know who. Not a Duskhaven, obviously."

"Who's responsible for the culling of the females?"

"Irahc'vic, mostly. But we all had our own grudges." He admitted. "The Matron was retiring, and giving her successor more and more power. And you know Iraefryn. It got pretty bad after you left; they could focus on something other than your fuckups."

"Watch your mouth." Selene snapped at him in Ashyr's defense, but the eldest drow didn't look too bothered by her male cousin's words. Another time, she might have been amused by his choice of phrasing. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mood to be playful.

Tsabdrin winced, and folded his arms against his chest in a defensive gesture.

Most of the information was new to Caleldir, of course, but none was really unexpected. There were one or two really bad actors: male drow who became too drow for the drow, and several other relatively neutral ones. It seemed that the women of House Duskhaven were probably not the greatest of people either (because... drow) and the world was probably better with the majority of them bumped off (not that he would ever, ever voice that particular notion aloud around Ashyr or Selene), the real issue in his opinion was not that a lot of adult drow women had been killed in a coup, but that little girls had been killed as well, Selene had been raped, and the ones doing all this were family members. Caleldir agreed with Althaia on the whole kin-slaying thing. He could tell that Tsabdrin was not the most evil of people, but kin-slayers were, of course, a cursed lot.

Which brought his mind to a troubling realization. He would have to keep Selene and Ashyr from fully taking their revenge. Giving the criminals responsible a clean death for their crimes, that he could do, but if this situation was ever to really be resolved, the two remaining women of Duskhaven could not be allowed to do the deeds themselves, and Selene especially had to be kept on something of a leash and prevented from torturing anybody.

Caleldir sighed, turning his mind back to what they needed to do in the short term. "Sadly, Duskhaven will have to wait. Port Afron is still the more immediately demanding situation. Tsabdrin, we cannot really trust you at this time, so if it is fine with your kinswomen here I propose that you be held in a cell that R.I.S.A. creates until we have secured Ciestas. Unless you think that we can use him in our conquest of the city."

"In a cell?" Tsabdrin complained emphatically. For whatever reason, his cobalt eyes turned toward Ashyr in a pleading sort of way. As if she was going to do anything to help him. "Come on, you can't put a ranger in a cell." He continued optimistically. Then his voice dropped to near inaudibility, and his eyes dropped to the floor alongside his tone. "Don't leave me alone and trapped."

"We can kill you instead." Selene snapped again. Except for her two outbursts, she was as distant from the rest of the group as she could while still being in the same room. The youngest drow barely even looked at her brother even now that he was more or less decent. Instead, she idly groomed her fingernails and tapped her foot impatiently.

It was Ashyr's turn to cross her arms, but it was a more angry gesture than defensive. The oldest drow was unable to keep a good angry simmer going when he looked at her liked an abused puppy, so she took a half-turn away from him. She did not have Caleldir's ability to let go of a grudge so easily even if the person in question had been brought as low as Tsabdrin had. Ashyr just couldn't get over the fact that he'd captured Selene and brought her into rape and imprisonment. She couldn't just forget how he had a part in killing Selene's daughter and inflicting that much emotional pain on her. "They're both right, cousin. We can't trust you. So it's death or imprisonment while we're taking care of business up here."

"I can help you, though... I can... I can..."

"Look at you; you're thin and weak. Not only that, but you can't follow directions. You wouldn't listen to me. Your companions were killed because of it! I don't care what the others say, you don't deserve them and you're not getting them back. Any of your other skills the rest of us can do better. How is it that you think you can help us with Port Afron?" Ashyr demanded. The female ranger was getting incredibly worked up about this - even more so than she expected. Now she couldn't even calm herself down. "You've always been just a placeholder or the lesser replacement for the real thing." Ashyr turned her back to him completely then. Her face went through a range of emotions as she thought upon the images she'd been forced to see of Selene going through all her trauma. Her hand rubbed at the back of her neck in a familiar self-comforting gesture. At that moment, it was like it was all Tsabdrin's fault and his fault alone; he deserved all the abuse she could give him and more.