By Light of Moon and Ray of Star (Research DTA)

By Light of Moon and Ray of Star (Research DTA) Aug 15, 2021 8:27:22 GMT Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed, Anthony, and 2 more like this

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Post by Jaezred Vandree on Aug 15, 2021 8:27:22 GMT

Continued from A Night to Try and Remember.

When he first came to the Witching Court, Jaezred was surprised by the number of dark elves who populate it. He never imagined so many drow would pledge themselves to the service of an archfey. He'd asked some of them why they chose to do so, and the answers range from appreciating the freedom Nicnevin afforded them whilst working for her (which he admittedly could understand) to simply enjoying the continual moonlight. Indeed, half of the answers he had received were mysteriously vague or...just plain odd.

Nevertheless, during his increasingly numerous visits to the Mountain Palace, he would attempt to build a cordial relationship with the resident drow whenever he got the chance to. Which was why their sudden withdrawnness felt so peculiar when he quietly enquired about the shadow of a nude female drow seen under the moon. Logically, he knew that he was still regarded as an outsider — so he shouldn't be surprised when they refuse to give away information for any reason. But this time, Jaezred did not shy away from spending outrageous sums on food and drink in order to ease his new acquaintances into trusting him, and the conversations had been open and friendly up until he asked his question.

There was an uneasiness in their silence.

The most he got were allusions to others knowing more.

It was only by chance that he caught Margotin, Nicnevin's dark elven butler, passing through a lonely hallway. That was when he received a name.

"I believe your lordship may be referring to Eilistraee, the 'good' goddess of the drow," Margotin murmured after several moments of hesitation.

"Eilistraee?" repeated Jaezred. The knee-jerk reaction in his mind was to think that Margotin was making things up, though it was almost immediately countered by thoughts of he has no reason to do that and this is too absurd to be made-up.

Now the butler was looking at him with trepidation. "Begging your pardon, my lord. I have duties to attend—"

"Wait!" Jaezred hissed. There was desperation in his eyes as he stepped closer to the other drow. "I...I think I've received some sort of vision from this goddess. Right here, in the Witching Court. Can you tell me more?"

Margotin's face lit up with interest, albeit reined in by a well-maintained air of reservation. "I believe I can, my lord, for I am myself a devotee of Eilistraee."

Jaezred's jaw went slack.

In that moment, both men were unsure of what to say or whether to say anything at all. The silence was broken by Margotin whispering, "You must really excuse me now, Lord Jaezred. But we can talk more if your lordship has any further visions."

He opened his mouth to protest but held his tongue when a tiefling rounded the corner and walked by them in the hallway. "Fine," he muttered as soon as the passer-by was out of earshot. "Just remember — this is a dark elf matter. The surface-dwellers shouldn't know of this."

Margotin gave him an odd look, but nonetheless nodded and bowed before exiting.

Once again, Jaezred was alone with his thoughts — and a sore need to find out more.

By Light of Moon and Ray of Star (Research DTA) Aug 22, 2021 11:57:12 GMT Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed and Andy D like this

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Post by Jaezred Vandree on Aug 22, 2021 11:57:12 GMT

Daring Academy was where one ought to go if one was looking for answers. The sight of scholars scurrying about with volumes of books and scrolls in their arms reminded Jaezred of his days at Sorcere, the school of arcane arts in Menzoberranzan. He had never been good at school, so it was fortunate that he acquired a connection at the Academy via Johan Graverson.

Mr. Johan Graverson was a rude, pompous high elven socialite with an atrocious fashion sense. The wealthy heir was convinced of the superiority of elves above all other races and the superiority of himself above all other elves. Jaezred absolutely could not stand the man and only made his acquaintance during a night of heated, half-drunken debates, since he seemed to be in the habit of collecting frenemies lately. (As he reflected upon this, his thoughts wandered to Imryll, a far more attractive and interesting frenemy than Graverson could ever hope to be. And whom he happened to be missing.)

Graverson’s contact at the Academy was an expert on non-human religions by the name of Doza Rabblewebble. After he gave a generous donation to her research fund, the gnomish scholar was more than happy to discuss with Lord Jaezred any topic of his choosing, no doubt also pleased to hold a genuine academic discourse instead of being forced to listen to half-baked theories on elf supremacy.

“Well, I have only one question for you,” he said. “Can you tell me who Eilistraee is?”

Doza’s eyes lit up and she launched into an excited babble about the lesser-known deity of the dark elves, a moon goddess, the daughter of Lolth and Corellon from before the schism, who chose exile alongside the Dark Seldarine with a mission to free the drow from Lolth’s web — that is, to guide them back to the World Above, where they could live in harmony with other races. This tidal wave of new information was all very stunning to Jaezred, but none as much the final bit of lore he was left with: according to one historical manuscript, most drow receive a sign from Eilistraee during their lifetime — the majority of them simply choose to ignore it out of a fear of persecution.

“And what about yourself?” Doza peered at him curiously. “Have you seen a sign from the Dark Maiden?”

Jaezred thanked her for her time and quickly backed out of the office.

His mind was racing as he walked out of the Academy building. The Witching Court drow’s reluctance to talk to him now made perfect sense. His status as a Favoured of Lolth wasn’t exactly a secret. And considering their mingling with the peoples of the surface world and the prominence of the moon in those lands...just how many of them were in the cult of Eilistraee?

He had waded too deep behind enemy lines.

Back in his room at The Four Fair Winds, Jaezred had taken off his jacket and was seated on the windowsill with a pipe and a glass of whiskey in hand. The smoke and drink, unfortunately, were doing little to distract him from the pesky thought that two goddesses may or may not be playing a cosmic game of tug of war with his soul.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t expel the idea that both Lolth and Eilistraee suddenly turned their attention to him for the same reason — that he had embraced life on the World Above, and moreover, embraced life with a surface elf. However, where Eilistraee must have sensed an opportunity, Lolth must have sensed a weakness.

The Spider Queen does not tolerate weakness in her subjects.

Jaezred had a dreadful feeling that he knew what challenge awaited him.

With trembling hands, he downed the whiskey and then poured some more. But no amount of liquor in the world could drown out the profound and ungodly fear he was feeling right now.