Drow's Dilemma Ep. 103: Labor

Phanuel stood and likewise shook the fatigue from his countenance. He didn't much care from Duskhaven, but he did know that there had to be some innocent slaves and children to be saved. "I will come with you," he announced to Althaia in his usual commanding, confident tone.

"I need to stay here. There's the afterbirth left," Tsabdrin said. He looked over to Selene, who was still slumped in her chair in a deep sleep. "And I don't think she's fit to go either."

"I will gladly not be witness to the afterbirth. I will do what I can to keep Duskhaven intact," High Lord Torernumir volunteered.

Caleldir would have preferred to stay with Ashyr, but he felt he would be more useful in the fight. Around here he would just be waiting. After all, R.I.S.A. could finish with the transferring of the infant's evil nature to the nonsapient homunculus on her own.

Finally, Riia stood up. Sort of. She rose in an upright floating position, her unblinking eyes still glowing that moonlight white. "I will lead," the being possessing her said. She didn't even bother going through a portal. She just vanished with an elegant wave of her arms.

Caleldir drew a deep breath. "We are going to have to figure out what in the heavens is going on with that girl." He shook his head. "Frankly, if I was not mentally exhausted, I would probably be freaking out a bit more right now. But I am past being able to muster the energy to be surprised."

Althaia merely nodded. They stepped through the portal.

The physical world opened up to an Underdark world of chaos. They were in the wealthy district near one wall of the cavern. Or what was left of it. Most of the cavern wall had been collapsed by... well, probably by that colossal disfigured... thing that was probably once a drow - with its charcoal skin and white hair - but now looked like a combination of dragon, satyr, and prison guard abomination from Xalthylth's realm. It was tearing a path of destruction through the city that originated from what had been Duskhaven Manor.

Sornamal was there, of course; he was the reason why the portal opened where it did, as he had taken the R.I.S.A. figurine with him. At the time the portal opened, the old mage was working with great effort to keep part of the cavern itself from collapsing onto the people fleeing for their lives out of the city. Sidhriia was nowhere to be seen.

Sornamal faltered a bit when suddenly a bunch of people appeared beside him. It was only a second of surprise, though; he had expected them eventually. "It's trying to take down the whole cave." The old mage reported redundantly. It was fairly clear what the giant... thing was trying to do. Between smashing buildings beneath its feet, it was hurtling out bolts of decay and destruction that made that whole section of the Underdark groan with strain.

"Well, I hope that we all still have some magic left in us." Caleldir exhaled.

"I do," Althaia replied. "I took a renewal potion. I was saving it for a time like this." She began several summoning spells. Soon, several Earth Elementals were rushing to help Sornamal shore up the walls. But they seemed to be only staving off the inevitable if the beast of destruction had its way.

"Let us take out this big one." With that, an uncharacteristically grim Caleldir and Althaia hurried after the horror ripping up the city.

A bestial scream that could even be heard over the crunching of the buildings in the center of the city ripped and echoed from the ruins of Duskhaven Manor. Then the dragon from the demon realm, noticeably damaged now, hurtled through the air to immediately begin harrying the people fleeing the city.

The party wasn't alone in trying to defend the city, though. Or, at least, the noble district part of the city. The people who lived there did not get to their stations by being weak. Dotted around the place were several clusters of people using magic to try to fix what had been broken before it all fell apart. United against this foe, it actually seemed that the drow of the city were working together for the good of the city. For what good were all their social maneuverings if there was no place for them to live?

Phanuel assessed the situation, looking between the dragon and the colossal beast. "I suppose I avoided this long enough. The rest of you get the big guy." He said with grim determination. He stretched, and great golden wings sprouted from his back. The aasimar lept forward and shot towards the flesh dragon, leaving a short-lived torrent of air in his wake.

"Will Phanuel be fine fighting that dragon on his own?" Caleldir asked worriedly as they hurried along to attack the Horror.

"No," Althaia said bluntly. "He will not be. But all he has to do is delay the thing, distract it, and hold out until we can destroy the more dangerous threat. Then we can help him. Or avenge him."

High Lord Torernumir surrounded himself in crackling blue psionic energy that lifted him off the ground. He followed alongside the nymph-kin towards the creature wrecking the place. That was around the time that the thing turned around to face them, having sensed the energy of the people who began this tirade. Madness shone in its drow-red eyes and spread into a rictus grin. The monster lifted its palm towards them and let one of those bolts of decay loose towards them.

The battle was joined. Caleldir sidestepped the bolt of decay, but intentionally let it pass very, very close to him. He narrowed his eyes, observing. He took a deep breath. "That is some serious necromantic energy there," he noted.

"We will just have to avoid being hit by it!" Althaia replied, leaping into battle with sword drawn, her blade once more wreathed in evil-smiting energy.

Another blast. Caleldir caught it with his bare hands and diffused it. His eyes glowed undead blue for a moment. "You will have to avoid being hit," he said simply. Even if Caleldir was immune to death and decay magic that the horror was using, he was still vulnerable to more conventionally lethal methods of neutralization. Like physical damage. And other sorts of magic. He was not sure that he could get in close enough to the creature to engage in melee. So, he contented himself with bolstering Althaia's abilities and doing his best to catch the incoming bolts of decay. Fortunately, he was not wearing anything but his summoned clothing, so any damage to his gear could be repaired, but the city around him was much more vulnerable.

Meanwhile, Phanuel wasn't trying to defeat the dragon outright. He was far more agile than the beast, but its claws, tail, and black flames would knock him out of the sky easier than he would like if he got too reckless and let one hit him. The two of them darted through the air like a sparrow trying to drive away a hawk. He distracted and annoyed it, but didn't accomplish much beyond that.

But help soon arrived. As the aasimar was harrying the destructive necromantic flesh-dragon, he noticed a portal opening up in the air.

And a familiar unclad Dark-Elf, looking injured, exhausted, and weakened, but with a wild-eyed power coursing through her all the same.

"Sorry I took so long," Abanonda said with a gasp. Her voice echoed with a similar power to that which coursed through Sidhriia.

Once more, she joined the fight

Much like with Phanuel and Abanonda's fight with the flesh-dragon, the nymph-kin and duergar managed to distract the horror from its assault on the city itself. Frustration grew on its expression with every bolt of decay diffused by that particularly annoying male. It stopped focusing those attacks on Caleldir, and instead tried to hit the flying psychic duergar that was throwing bolts of psionic energy at its face. Those seemed to actually hurt it; the skin of the drowlike face was beginning to turn ashen and start to peel as if badly burnt by the sun. But its attacks distracted High Lord Torernumir enough that the dark dwarf could no longer hit as effectively. Good-aligned holy energy - especially of the Lawful variety - seemed to cut into its skin the best out of any attack. It screamed when it felt the bite of Althaia's blade on its mostly unarmored body. Now they had its full attention; any damage to the city from it now was merely incidental.

Caleldir noted with frustration the fact that the Horror was no longer paying attention to him. Just pumping out bursts of Necrotic energy that he could not hope to contain. He could try to suction it away, but it seemed that anything he did on that account would barely slow the damage, let alone stop it. So, he would just have to strike against the Horror. Maybe grab a few bursts meant for the Duergar. He also let off a few bursts of magic of his own calculated to bypass the creatures almost certain spell-resistance.

Althaia, for her part, simply cast Axiomatic on her weapon, causing it to be strongly lawfully aligned, and continued dodging and slashing, aiming to separate limbs and otherwise cripple the creature. She needed to get this thing dead before it destroyed the cavern completely.

Still the cavern around them was beginning to buckle. Waves of necrotic energy pulsed through the walls and ceiling at random intervals as if explosives planted in the rock were being detonated. The horror was not the only danger to worry about; huge rocks began to fall, threatening to crush anything that wasn't paying enough attention. Rocks even bounced off the Horror, which seemed to annoy it slightly.

A moonlight glow began to pulse on the western side of the city where the main entrance into the drow territories of the Underdark stood mostly intact. There was a certain fascinating quality to it for those who squinted into its light. It was so opposite the horror that they were facing. It spoke of shelter and of hope. Freedom. Some of the fleeing people throughout the city - slaves and common drow, mostly - began to flock toward the light without really understanding why.

"That would be whatever is possessing Sidhriia, then," Caleldir said shortly.

"Almost certainly," Althaia agreed. They both kept fighting, healing each other and the duergar when needed. No checking that out until this thing was dead.

With the efforts of the three people fighting against it, the horror began to become covered in deep slashes and burn marks. Most of the injuries, however, looked superficial. Wherever it splattered, its black blood ate holes into street and building alike. Still with a too-large grin it swept its arm out at Caleldir to try to smash that annoying orb-absorber to a pulp. Something changed in it mid-swing. The thing's eyes bulged, and its grin of enjoyment turned into a grimace of pain. And then of fear. The swinging arm became a trivial thing to dodge.

[Unstable are you, Duskhaven?]

Came the mocking thought of the Duergar projected over a large swath of the city.

The horror screamed in agony and frustration. It stopped trying to focus on the nymph-kin and dwarf. Instead, it resumed its destruction of the city and the cavern itself with wide-eyed urgency. Larger and larger chunks of rock fell from the ceiling. Within moments, the whole place was in full collapse even with the efforts of Sornamal and the earth elementals. Caleldir clenched his teeth. Duskhaven Cavern was massive. Massive. If it collapsed, then the above-world would not be unharmed. Nor would the rest of the Underdark. It would be catastrophic.

Sornamal abandoned his efforts and began to flee towards the light. His progress could be tracked through the city just by watching the rocks hit his shield bubble and roll off harmlessly.

Off in the other section of the city, Phanuel and Abanonda working together were able to drive/trick the dragon under a large section of rock that was breaking away from the top of the cavern. A boulder struck it, and pinned it to a building below. The dragon was quickly beheaded by Phanuel's blade and its threat neutralized.

The aasimar began to pick through the city, grabbing everyone who seemed to be trapped or uncertain where to go. Meanwhile, Abanonda, the glow of the Divine Smite finally subsiding from her body, gathered some rags from the ground to wear and began staggering in the direction of the silver light.

[The cavern is doomed. Come to me if you want to live.]

The Horror was doomed at this point, but it was also dooming everything else with it. Althaia and Caleldir reluctantly began to decamp from the horror, moving towards the light and pulling along others to it as well. Drained and exhausted, neither showed that much reaction yet, though Caleldir at least was feeling incredibly defeated.

As the cavern began to truly crumble around them, the terror that had caused most of its destruction looked to be collapsing in on itself as well. High Lord Torenumir was the last to abandon the fight with the thing even when the chaos magic left it and all that was left was a normal-looking naked male drow. Althaia and Caleldir never met him, but he bore a resemblance to the Duskhaven family. Torernumir kicked the drow as he casually cast away a boulder that would have fallen on the two of them.

[You've destroyed the Underdark, Duskhaven. And for what? Your god has left you.]

The duergar thought, angry glowing eyes staring accusingly at the fallen drow. For he was not mocking the city, just that particular Duskhaven whose name he never bothered to learn. The male drow seemed incapable of responding. He only cackled and curled up on himself as true insanity overwhelmed his mind.

[Capture or kill, 'Heroes'?]

High Lord Turernumir asked in the projected telepathic voice (the place was too loud to use his natural throat and lungs). The word 'heroes' was slightly mocking.

Caleldir gave a look at the no-longer chaos magic infused male drow. Oh. That made more sense. Then why broadcast his telepathic mockery over the entire city? Eh, no matter. -Kill. He is beyond saving. Just please get a look at his face that you can psychically reproduce so that Ashyr or Selene can identify which family member that was. I think that they will want to know.-

-Agreed,- Althaia added. She did not say more.

There were no more words, but there was a sense of acknowledgement from the dark dwarf. The life of the Duskhaven was snuffed out abruptly; there wasn't time for gloating and torture. Then Torernumir flew off to join the rest of the people gathered at the entrance. He looked tempted to keep flying then. His home wasn't in the Drow territory, after all. But he landed with the group anyway, not quite looking at the floating deity in the group's center.

The people continued to gather around that light at the entrance of the city. Upon further inspection, there was a figure bathed in that soft moonlight glow. She was too bright to look at for any with light blindness, but they huddled near her just the same. For those who could look at her, they saw a pale elf with a blank expression and eyes that never blinked. The light was brightest from those eyes, and radiated out in a massive bubble surrounding them. All falling debris seemed to bounce off that light and harmlessly to the side. The smaller pebbles just burned away. There were rumors already being murmured around the gathering crowd of people about who had come to their aid, but none were yet brave enough to make the accusation aloud. The decision seemed unanimous among them, though; Better to throw in their lots with Her rather than be crushed to death in their dying city.

Althaia and Caleldir arrived in the huddle with everyone else. Those two had no light blindness (quite the opposite, in fact, for Althaia, who could stare into the sun without pain or damage), so had no trouble making out the figure. At least, mostly making her out. The woman did indeed have Sidhriia's form. Not her consciousness, though, not at that moment.

Althaia strode up to the glowing elf. Somewhere between fighting the Horror and getting here, she had activated her Drow polymorph so both she and Caleldir looked completely in place as simply unusually (or extraordinarily) attractive dark-elves. The unblinking way she was looking into the light rather ruined the effect of her new form, however. "Your Holiness. May I enquire as to who to thank for this sanctuary?" She spoke in Celestial, so most present would be unlikely to understand.

With that vacant, glowing-eyed expression, the glowing woman turned her countenance toward the person addressing her. The impression of a smile nudged its way into Althaia's understanding, though the body itself did not move its face.

[You may thank my Oracle, the one you now call Sidhriia, for this sanctuary. For without her, my presence here would be impossible.]

Althaia stood tall, only bowing her head. She followed a different Goddess, Sune of the Firehair and her subordinates, after all. Elistraee was an ally of her liege, but not one to whom she owed fealty unless instructed.

"An Oracle. Of course," Caleldir realized. In hindsight that was obvious. But for what deity? Hmmm... silver moonlight... female... chaotic good, interested in drow... He slapped his head. "Elistraee?" He asked questioningly. Oh. The Blackdawns. The Blackdawns worshipped Elistraee, despite their association and alliance with the famously deicidally intentioned Deusterrans. And he was a Blackdawn right now... He went down on one knee, and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Not prostration, but respect.

The possessed oracle's sense of a smile grew to that of greater amusement, still without an actual change of expression. But the cavern shuddered dangerously and broke off whatever thought the deity was going to follow with. The possessed Riia spread her arms and the bubble grew slightly to encapsulate the rest of the people who were arriving. By that time, the cavern was undergoing true collapse. In mere moments they would be completely buried by rubble.

[Come, my worshippers! Quickly! I need your strength!]

From the crowd, a dozen or so people stepped forth with wild adoration in their eyes. They formed a hasty circle around the glowing figure that was beginning to struggle under the massive weight of the space between the Underdark and the surface. They circle of worshippers fell prostrate to the ground and began sharing in Her moonlight glow.

Now dressed in rags and bandages, Abanonda moved to the front of the throng. "My Lady," she said simply. "It is done."

There wasn't time for the deity to single out the people who bowed their heads in deference to her and the people who got to their knees before her. There was work to be done, an entire worth of people (or what was left of them) to be saved. She needed every ounce of her strength and concentration to make sure that everyone got where they belonged by her estimation.

A great energy surrounded the massive huddle of people, changing the air pressure at an uncomfortable rate. Then there was the sense of dizzying movement, and the world outside of the bubble blurred. For several long moments this went on, the pressure still changing as quickly as was safe for the people.

Then, finally, the world beyond was no longer blurry. The moonlight glow surrounding Sidhriia was doubled by the moonlight bathing a dark forest. They were safe.

--

Down below, in the wreckage of what was once Duskhaven Cavern, the stones exploded upwards as a truly massive Green Dragon erupted in a fountain of acid, howling in rage and frustration. The dragon looked up at the moon and forced themself to calmness. "Eight centuries of manipulation and subversion, and a couple of gods come along and destroy my cavern and save the intruders just like that," the dragon rumbled out. "And I am left with nothing but rubble. First the forest I painstakingly created was hewn down by the followers of Aralolth, and then Ellistraea and that damned abyssal collapse the entire thing. I hate gods."