Be Still, My Beating Heart
Nov 26, 2021 19:09:38 GMT
Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed, Ian, and 1 more like this
Post by Igrainne (RETIRED) on Nov 26, 2021 19:09:38 GMT
Sigil. As Igrainne steps through the Angelbark Portal and strides down its cobblestone streets, she wonders if its inhabitants have noticed the absence of the Lady of Pain, if they are aware of how much danger their doughnut-shaped plane is in. It’s hard not to dwell on how dire everything is, but she’s here for a different reason. To exchange words with a certain succubus. Stern words.
She goes over the spiel she has planned to say in her head during the short walk to Lady Vermillion’s beautiful pavilion, muttering incoherently to herself, internally debating whether to add or remove certain points. But all trains of thought in the station of her mind come to a halt when, after knocking on the door, it is Lady Vermillion herself who answers.
“Oh my dear, I was expecting you. Come in,” the yuan-ti pureblood says.
“Ah, Lady Vermillion, hi! You were…expecting me?”
“Indeed. Something seems to have transpired, and I was fairly certain you had something to do with it…” She gives the younger woman a long stare with those unnerving, reptilian eyes. “But let me show you, so you may see for yourself.”
Lady Vermillion leads Igrainne inside, past the sitting room she has become well-acquainted with, through the kitchen (which is positively spotless, she notices), and up the stairs towards the living quarters. They stop at a door that opens into a modest bedroom. “If you please.”
The room is a mess, the kind of chaos only evoked by a living occupant. Clothes haphazardly draped or thrown over a table and chair (she recognises some of them as the very pricey ones she bought at The Heights of Fashion), the wardrobe ajar and stuffed full of coathangers with even more clothes for all occasions. The bed is ruffled as if someone had recently lain in it, but the only thing besides the sheets is a pile of ash.
“Care to fill me in on the rest of this sorry tale?” Lady V. asks.
Igrainne gapes in horror at the pile of ash. “What the shit?!” she squeaks out. “Is…is Amaunet dead?”
Lady V. raises an eyebrow. “It would appear so. Well”—she shrugs—“not quite. A demon expiring outside the Abyss would be cast back there to reconstitute. I understand avoiding just that was the entire point of her staying here. And you promised to help ensure. I can’t help but think that you have been less than diligent on that front.”
There is another long stare from those unsettling yellow eyes. Igrainne feels her mouth go dry.
“I-It’s not what it looks like! She gave me an item, it was cursed, it was giving me cardiac problems, and it was making me shoot my comrades!” She takes out the heart brooch out of her pocket and holds it out at Lady V. “A friend lifted the curse from me but I didn’t know it would kill her!”
Lady V. barely glances at the brooch, squinting at Igrainne instead. “She gave you an item? Which was linked to her? And you didn’t think to come here and check before doing anything of the sort?” She softly shakes her head and tut-tuts. “You know, I am seldom wrong in my assessment of people once I have their measure, but I really thought you were smarter than that, my dear.”
“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!” Igrainne throws her hands up in the air. “Well… I’m sorry for depriving you of a housekeeper, Lady V., I really am,” she says with a sigh. “But I guess she’s done for, now.”
Lady V. steps into the room and begins to fold a few of the clothes. “It is a shame indeed. I suppose she is back in the Abyss now, at the tender mercies of her former paramour Bal’taz’narr. I doubt he will make it quick. My sources tell me that he is quite the unpleasant fellow once his ire is raised. With a long memory for grudges. And like a cat, he enjoys playing with his food. Shame…” She shakes her head again.
“You mean she might still be alive in the Abyss? Being tortured?”
“I would not at all be surprised. He is a demon of pleasure and excess. He will take his time and wring all the excitement out of his newly acquired plaything. He has been waiting for a while…” She throws her a look of mild curiosity. “Why? You are not considering to do something about it, are you?”
“Hmmm…” Igrainne narrows her eyes and taps a finger on her chin as she contemplates that. “On the one hand, it would be the conscionable thing to do. On the other hand…as horrible as it sounds, is she really worth going through that much trouble? I mean, this is the Abyss…”
“Very true. And you are such a precious little thing. Only a half-drow, you might not make it out alive. It would be unconscionable of me to help you get here… I suppose you aren’t up for the task…”
“Hey, what’s the big idea, snake lady?!” She looks up at the ceiling and lets out a frustrated groan. “Ugh. Fine! I’ll send a message to her to see if she's still alive. But I’m not making any promises. And anyway, this whole mess would have to wait. Sigil itself is in danger! As a planar ranger, I can help with preventing that…”
A sweet smile spreads across Lady V.’s sharp features, her gaze suddenly turning soft and warm. “Oh, what a hero you are! Maybe I wasn’t wrong about you after all. Saving Sigil first, and then the damsel in distress? It will make a fine story. Well, don’t let me keep you, you have the planar balance to maintain, and I will make some preparations here. I look forward to your return.”
Igrainne turns on her heel to head back down the stairs, grumbling under her breath as she goes.
The first thing she does when she returns to Daring Heights is to buy a scroll of sending from some arcane shop in Castleside. She exits the shop into a nearby alleyway before reading casting guidance on herself and reading the scroll out loud to cast the spell. A connection is made across the planes of existence, like a spider shooting a thread of silk across a vast space and finding purchase. She blinks in surprise. Could it be…?
“Are you alive? Where are you in the Abyss?” she asks, hesitating for a second before adding, “Why didn’t you tell me taking it off would kill you?!”
There is no reply. She shifts around nervously, until suddenly—
Igrainne! Is it really you?! Amaunet’s voice cries out in her head, sounding faint and distant. I am so sorry, I didn’t think this would happen! You have to believe me!
Igrainne blinks again. She looks down at the used-up spell scroll in her hands, unsure of what to do, then she hears Amaunet again. The succubus is casting a sending of her own.
I am in his dungeon. Back in the Abyss. He is torturing me! Please please please please please help me!
“W-Where is that in the Abyss? Which layer?”
He is coming back. Can’t talk. Hurryyyyyyyy!
“I…”
Igrainne sighs, rolls her eyes, and tosses the scroll over her shoulder. How is it that she constantly gets entangled in all these messes?
Regardless, this is a problem for another time.
Co-written with the brilliant Ian.
She goes over the spiel she has planned to say in her head during the short walk to Lady Vermillion’s beautiful pavilion, muttering incoherently to herself, internally debating whether to add or remove certain points. But all trains of thought in the station of her mind come to a halt when, after knocking on the door, it is Lady Vermillion herself who answers.
“Oh my dear, I was expecting you. Come in,” the yuan-ti pureblood says.
“Ah, Lady Vermillion, hi! You were…expecting me?”
“Indeed. Something seems to have transpired, and I was fairly certain you had something to do with it…” She gives the younger woman a long stare with those unnerving, reptilian eyes. “But let me show you, so you may see for yourself.”
Lady Vermillion leads Igrainne inside, past the sitting room she has become well-acquainted with, through the kitchen (which is positively spotless, she notices), and up the stairs towards the living quarters. They stop at a door that opens into a modest bedroom. “If you please.”
The room is a mess, the kind of chaos only evoked by a living occupant. Clothes haphazardly draped or thrown over a table and chair (she recognises some of them as the very pricey ones she bought at The Heights of Fashion), the wardrobe ajar and stuffed full of coathangers with even more clothes for all occasions. The bed is ruffled as if someone had recently lain in it, but the only thing besides the sheets is a pile of ash.
“Care to fill me in on the rest of this sorry tale?” Lady V. asks.
Igrainne gapes in horror at the pile of ash. “What the shit?!” she squeaks out. “Is…is Amaunet dead?”
Lady V. raises an eyebrow. “It would appear so. Well”—she shrugs—“not quite. A demon expiring outside the Abyss would be cast back there to reconstitute. I understand avoiding just that was the entire point of her staying here. And you promised to help ensure. I can’t help but think that you have been less than diligent on that front.”
There is another long stare from those unsettling yellow eyes. Igrainne feels her mouth go dry.
“I-It’s not what it looks like! She gave me an item, it was cursed, it was giving me cardiac problems, and it was making me shoot my comrades!” She takes out the heart brooch out of her pocket and holds it out at Lady V. “A friend lifted the curse from me but I didn’t know it would kill her!”
Lady V. barely glances at the brooch, squinting at Igrainne instead. “She gave you an item? Which was linked to her? And you didn’t think to come here and check before doing anything of the sort?” She softly shakes her head and tut-tuts. “You know, I am seldom wrong in my assessment of people once I have their measure, but I really thought you were smarter than that, my dear.”
“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!” Igrainne throws her hands up in the air. “Well… I’m sorry for depriving you of a housekeeper, Lady V., I really am,” she says with a sigh. “But I guess she’s done for, now.”
Lady V. steps into the room and begins to fold a few of the clothes. “It is a shame indeed. I suppose she is back in the Abyss now, at the tender mercies of her former paramour Bal’taz’narr. I doubt he will make it quick. My sources tell me that he is quite the unpleasant fellow once his ire is raised. With a long memory for grudges. And like a cat, he enjoys playing with his food. Shame…” She shakes her head again.
“You mean she might still be alive in the Abyss? Being tortured?”
“I would not at all be surprised. He is a demon of pleasure and excess. He will take his time and wring all the excitement out of his newly acquired plaything. He has been waiting for a while…” She throws her a look of mild curiosity. “Why? You are not considering to do something about it, are you?”
“Hmmm…” Igrainne narrows her eyes and taps a finger on her chin as she contemplates that. “On the one hand, it would be the conscionable thing to do. On the other hand…as horrible as it sounds, is she really worth going through that much trouble? I mean, this is the Abyss…”
“Very true. And you are such a precious little thing. Only a half-drow, you might not make it out alive. It would be unconscionable of me to help you get here… I suppose you aren’t up for the task…”
“Hey, what’s the big idea, snake lady?!” She looks up at the ceiling and lets out a frustrated groan. “Ugh. Fine! I’ll send a message to her to see if she's still alive. But I’m not making any promises. And anyway, this whole mess would have to wait. Sigil itself is in danger! As a planar ranger, I can help with preventing that…”
A sweet smile spreads across Lady V.’s sharp features, her gaze suddenly turning soft and warm. “Oh, what a hero you are! Maybe I wasn’t wrong about you after all. Saving Sigil first, and then the damsel in distress? It will make a fine story. Well, don’t let me keep you, you have the planar balance to maintain, and I will make some preparations here. I look forward to your return.”
Igrainne turns on her heel to head back down the stairs, grumbling under her breath as she goes.
The first thing she does when she returns to Daring Heights is to buy a scroll of sending from some arcane shop in Castleside. She exits the shop into a nearby alleyway before reading casting guidance on herself and reading the scroll out loud to cast the spell. A connection is made across the planes of existence, like a spider shooting a thread of silk across a vast space and finding purchase. She blinks in surprise. Could it be…?
“Are you alive? Where are you in the Abyss?” she asks, hesitating for a second before adding, “Why didn’t you tell me taking it off would kill you?!”
There is no reply. She shifts around nervously, until suddenly—
Igrainne! Is it really you?! Amaunet’s voice cries out in her head, sounding faint and distant. I am so sorry, I didn’t think this would happen! You have to believe me!
Igrainne blinks again. She looks down at the used-up spell scroll in her hands, unsure of what to do, then she hears Amaunet again. The succubus is casting a sending of her own.
I am in his dungeon. Back in the Abyss. He is torturing me! Please please please please please help me!
“W-Where is that in the Abyss? Which layer?”
He is coming back. Can’t talk. Hurryyyyyyyy!
“I…”
Igrainne sighs, rolls her eyes, and tosses the scroll over her shoulder. How is it that she constantly gets entangled in all these messes?
Regardless, this is a problem for another time.
Co-written with the brilliant Ian.