ILLITHID SLAYER CHRONICLES
Volume VII
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to the
(Written by Donald Sutcliffe and Vincent Darlage)
The Cast
Zografos, Lord Domnhall of Alisander – Human Penumbral Lord
Cerlyn Ilphu – Drow Assassin (NPC)
Saaden – Drow Illithid-Slayer (NPC)
Varnkesir – Drow Illithid-Hunter (NPC)
Daquinquar – Drow Telepath
Obsidian-skinned Cerlyn Ilphu was sitting on a dragon,
a dragon that was as ephemeral as a shadow. Cerlyn was an elf, but a dark one.
She had a cruel reputation, even among the horrible monsters known as the Drow,
but she was beautiful. Her head and shoulders were draped by a cascade of fine,
snow-white hair, which billowed out behind her in the wind, creating an impressive
nimbus around her face. Her red eyes were cold, but were yet strangely captivating
to look upon.
She watched the ground fly past beneath them for a while, listening
to the beat of the dragon's wings as they flew. She was sitting behind a human
being, a Penumbral Lord of Inzeladun. This human was quiet, and said little
to nothing during the flight so far. Finally, Cerlyn broke the silence to ask
Lord Domnhall if they were returning to Alisander or if he would like to see
a drow city. Zografos wasn't happy about seeing a drow city, but decided that
it would bring them closer to killing mind flayers than staying in Alisander.
"Well, unless you believe there are mindflayers still in Alisander we can
go see a drow city," Zografos replied.
"Excellent. Drop us down in the midst of those woods."
Cerlyn commanded. Zografos asked the dragon to set them down and he did. The
dragon following Cerlyn and Lord Domnhall also landed, depositing three other
Drow elf women.
"Are you going to come with us, Kepeskversvesh?"
asked Zografos.
The dragon said, "No, but I will give you something to summon
me when you need me. I would rather live beneath Alisander. I figured we would
meet, so I scouted out several areas beneath your mansion. I would live there,
if you would not mind."
"I do not mind, just be careful of the psi-gate in the temple."
"I shall." Then the dragon launched himself into the air
and continued towards Alisander.
The woods around the group were dark and silent. Cerlyn asked, "Are
we all ready?" Everyone nodded in the affirmative.
"What is the name of the city we are going to?" asked
Zografos.
Cerlyn pulled out some dust from one of her pockets, and threw the
glittery dust up in the air, where it spread out like a cloud. "Algorthas
Erelhei Cinlu," said Cerlyn as the cloud of dark glitter fell around the
group. As the cloud fell, reality seemed to bend, and when the cloud reached
their feet, they were standing in a dark cavern. Zografos thought, "That
is some handy stuff to have around." They were on a dark road far beneath
the surface, a road that descended through a gorge about 200 yards wide.
"Which way?" asked Zografos assuming that he would be
expected to lead.
"Down the gorge," said Cerlyn. Zografos changed to his
rat-man form to have the advantage of heightened senses as he led the group.
The road descended and gradually became broader as the group traveled on it.
Shortly they passed through a wide fissure into a colossal hemispherical cavern,
a cave six miles long and five miles wide. Its ceiling was 1000 fathoms above
the floor, and a ghostly moonlike glow emanated from the zenith of the cavern,
which gave the whole cave an eerie appearance. The city was many miles to the
north, but directly ahead, about a mile ahead, an ancient stronghold stood four
stories high, watching the road. The tower's foundations rested upon a steep-sided
mound of stone, its massive walls worn smooth by the passing of ages, almost
fused with the natural rock platform upon which the tower was built.
Cerlyn said, "That is the
When they reach the massive fortress, Cerlyn stopped
the other drow. "You must be questioned alone from here," she said
to Zografos. Several drow guards stood at the gloomy gates and they stepped
forward to take Lord Domnhall. Zografos gave out a low growl, not liking that
idea at all.
"Come with us," ordered one of the male drow guards.
"We will wait here," smirked
Cerlyn, as she watched for fear on Zografos' part, a slight smile creasing her
pretty face.
Zografos grudgingly followed the guards, mentally keeping track
of each guard relative to his position. They led Zografos through the dark,
iron gates and up a narrow incline to the base of the tower. The bleak walls,
with vacant eye-like windows, filled Zografos with an utter depression of soul,
an iciness of unredeemed darkness. Zografos mentally reminded himself to hold
tough, not to show weakness and to stay focused on his purpose here… killing
mindflayers.
As he walked into that evil place, shadowy fancies seemed to crowd
around Domnhall, grappling with his thoughts which made him realize that this
was a horribly black and lurid place. The ghastly entry hall with vacant doorways
that hid shadowy figures led to a door that seemed to possess an attribute of
excessive antiquity. If anything, the door seemed older than the tower. The
atmosphere of the place had no affinity with the air of any heaven in any religion,
but reeked with a dull, sluggishness that seemed to shroud the entire place.
The door, if anything, amplified that feeling. The discoloration of ages had
been great. Minute fungi overspread the entire door, hanging in a fine, tangled
webwork. One of the guards grasped the iron door handle and pulled the vast
thing open, and it screamed in protest that such a minute creature should dare
touch it, and the screaming of its hinges rang hard throughout the hall. Once
open, they entered the Gothic archway of the hall, and the guard, with stealthy
steps, conducted Zografos in silence through many dark and intricate passages,
past phantasmagoric armorial trophies that rattled as they walked past them,
to a large, lofty room. Zografos walked upon a black, oaken floor, and dark
tapestries hung on the walls. Very little light was in this vault, only a mere
torch in a sconce behind a tall chair gave forth any illumination, and the reddish
glow of that torch somehow was less than inviting. In the tall chair, nearly
an ornate throne for all its size, sat a drow warrior in plate armor, his white
hair flowing uncontained upon his shoulders. A naked elven girl squatted, kneeling,
at the man's left, his hand playing easily with her golden hair. A chain trailed
from her neck to the base of the great chair. Several other armored guards
stood at attention in the shadowy recesses of the room, polearms held firm,
ready to use.
"Welcome to Erelhei-Cinlu, outlander," said the warrior.
"I am the prefect of this tower. What is the purpose of your visit?"
"I am Domnhall. I am here to rest briefly before I and the
others continue our quest of killing mindflayers."
"Cerlyn has recruited you?"
"Aye", replied Zografos watching for what kind of reaction
that answer would incur.
The guards made no move, but the man on the chair seemed to approve.
He said, "Then there is no need for an intense interrogation, is there?"
He made a languid motion with his hand, and another nude elven girl, one with
brown hair and brown eyes, came forward, carrying a folded cloak of silk dyed
an unnatural shade of green. "Wear that cloak at all times, outlander,
and be identified as an alien in the drow homeland. You will find that interlopers
who lack this cloak soon find themselves killed or enslaved, such as the beauty
you see resting next to me." Zografos looked the cloak over for poison
or some kind of trap before taking it from the elf and putting it on. A guard
escorted Zografos back out to the others.
Cerlyn and the others nodded approvingly when they saw Zografos
in the cloak. "That didn't take as long as most. No torture?"
"He knew I was requited by you, and decided that I did not
need an intense interrogation. Can surface elves be bought as slaves in the
city?"
She laughed, "Of course you can buy surface elves as slaves!
Do you want one?"
Saaden added, "They are very, very expensive."
Varnkesir said, "Most who buy them only buy them for the sex,
I think." She winked at Zografos.
Zografos laughed, "That is exactly why I would buy one. I
would make a fortune at my estate whoring out a surface elf." Zografos
winked back at Varn.
Saaden said, "I don't think you need to spend that much money
if you want sex with an elf, Lord Domnhall. I think you may well find enough
willing, albeit dark, elves here for your appetite."
Varnkesir said, "Although few of us would be willing to whore
ourselves out to humans for your profit. Perhaps a slave would be better suited
for you."
"No offense, ladies." Zografos countered. "But having
you on my estate would more than likely be cause for the entire city to hunt
me down. A surface elf would be much safer to have."
Within the hour, Cerlyn has led the group to the city. The city
of
"What is the reason for the different heights in the outerwall?"
Zografos asked.
"The far wall faces the Pitchy Flow, an underground river.
Most invasions take place there, so the walls must be stronger and taller,"
replied Cerlyn.
As the group approached the Great Gate, they saw elaborate stone-carved
figures of demons and monsters that leered from the piled stones. The entryway
held four great warrior statues. The two larger of the quartet, the females,
faced each other across the entry arch, holding tall, narrow bladed axes; the
two smaller figures, the males, faced out toward the road, gripping their thin
swords with both hands. A raised portcullis greets them, and they are allowed
into the interior passage, which has lurid frescoes of demon visages. The Great
Gate opened onto the High Street, which ran generally north and south, bisecting
the city. Buildings rose on all sides. Cerlyn asked Domnhall, "Well, where
would you like to go?"
"Any sort of entertainment you might desire is available here,"
Saaden added. Zografos thought it a little odd that she would ask where
he would like to go. He replied, "What exactly is our purpose for being
here? If I have a choice, it would be to go someplace to have sex."
Varnkesir said, "I would like to visit home. May I?"
Cerlyn nodded her head, and the ranger took off down an alley.
Cerlyn raised an eyebrow. "A brothel, or did you have someone
in particular in mind?"
Zografos smiled broadly looking at both Saaden and
Cerlyn. "I have someones in mind."
Cerlyn said to Daquinquar, "Have you someplace
to go?"
"Aye. With
your permission, I too would like to visit some family."
"Very well. Go." Daq headed
off on her own and Cerlyn motioned for Zografos and Saaden to follow her.
Varnkesir walked quickly through the dark, crowded streets, through
alleys and passageways the lurked quietly between tall rows of buildings and
monuments. She knocked on a certain, sigil-covered door. It opened for her
and she entered a ratty hall that smelled of damp plaster and moldy paper.
She ran up a dark stairway and opened the door to her left on the second landing.
The room smelled old, and the Drow woman that sat in the torn, stuffed
chair smelled even older. Varnkesir's grandmother had thin, yellowed hair
that clung horribly to her skull, and wore a loose woolen tunic. Sickly amber-yellow
eyes were set in a delicately featured obsidian face, eyes that revealed centuries
of pent up hate. She looked up, hearing her granddaughter's footsteps. "Were
you successful?" asked the elderly dark elf.
"Yes," said Varnkesir, setting down her black bow and
her dark quiver of dangerous arrows. "The human performed very well."
"Excellent. I had hoped he would."
Varnkesir walked slowly down a short corridor. She passed a room,
and the sounds of sex, the grunts of a man, the moans of a woman, the squeaks
of a bed, came forth. Her brother was probably fucking one of the slaves.
She walked into her room and closed the door. She could still hear
the thumping of her brother and whomever he was with. She ignored the noise
and started unbuckling her leather armor.
Nude, she stood in front of the full length mirror on the wall.
Her skin, blackish blue, was bruised, although it was hard to tell. Her neck
was long, and her breasts were smallish mounds of soft flesh. Her stomach,
as flat as the cold floor she stood on, was muscular. She was proud of these
things. However, looking between her legs, she felt a twinge of shame. The
white wisps that adorned her soft mound were soft and few, but they were there
nonetheless, and they shamed her. Elves did not have body hair. But her great-grandmother
was a human slave girl. The soft, white hairs betrayed that human heritage,
a heritage that she strove hard to hide.
She had to kill every lover she had ever had to protect her secret.
If any saw her secret, she slew them before he or she spoke of it to others.
Putting aside these musings, she started dressing. Her dark robe
was velvet, stiff with gold thread and held by a broad, black sash. Beneath
the robe, her pantaloons were clinging black silk with long slits that flashed
an enticing display of leg as she walked and her shift was thin cotton that
fit loosely so that if she bent too far forward, her breasts could potentially
be on display. Perhaps she would find someone to kill tonight.
By the time she finished dressing, she realized her brother's room
had finally quieted. Varnkesir left her room and walked down the short hall,
pulling on a dark cloak. A young slave girl, a darthiir
(surface elf), stepped quickly out of Varnkesir's path. Varnkesir
looked over the nude girl. She was pretty. The slave's eyes flickered upward
briefly and met Varnkesir's orange eyes. In a flash, Varnkesir had a dagger
in her hand and she slit the throat of the girl. The elf's eyes widened as
she slid to the floor, knowing that she was dying.
Varnkesir wiped off the blade. Slaves should never meet the eyes
of their betters. Varn whispered a farewell to her
grandmother and opened the door to the house, ignoring the yells of outrage
from her brother, who had discovered the death of his girl-slave.
Varnkesir wandered the streets until she found a Drow male walking
along. She looked him over but decided against him. Although he was slight
and pretty, he was also a noble. He would be missed. Varn
decided to try one of the brothels.
She walked into a seedy joint that smelled of strong perfumes.
She discreetly inquired if they had any customers who needed a lesson. The
proprietor of this shop knew Varn, and knew that no one survived a night with this particular
Drow. She nodded and told her to take a room, and a male would be along shortly.
She knew just who she would send to Varnkesir. A petty Drow warrior who was
blackmailing her longed for women who would test and torture him, yet remain
aloof and remote.
Varnkesir looked around the room once she reached it. It was well
appointed, lavish in furnishings, and torture equipment stood on one side of
the room: whip thongs, cat o' nine tails, scourges, canes, switches, bindings,
and a padded bench that could be raised. This brothel specialized in flagellation
and other tortures. A slave girl was in the room, cleaning the room. The slave,
another young darthiir girl, kneeled in supplication when she saw
Varn and stood at attention, her gaze properly down.
The girl wore little in the way of clothing, a brief layer of gauze wrapped
around her waist and falling to ankle length. Her youthful breasts, little
more than bumps on her chest, were completely unfettered. Varn
asked the darthiir her name. "Alurai,"
the girl answered in a soft voice. Varn nodded. "You will assist me tonight."
Soon a male Drow appeared in the doorway, holding the curtain to
one side. Varnkesir used the whip in her hand to motion the dark elf into the
room. She met his eyes with her own steely gaze and could tell he was mesmerized
with her.
"Strip naked and climb aboard the spanking bench, Lord,"
said Varnkesir. The Drow stripped bare quickly, handing his clothing to Alurai
to fold and set aside. As he undressed, his body revealed itself as lean, shining
black-blue with oils recently applied at the baths.
"Come now," she said, patting the leather seat of the
bench. The Drow sighed in anticipation as he climbed on the bench, resting
his knees on its station, bending over the waist bar and placing his hands on
a stationary bar. Varn admired how the bench exposed
his ass. She caressed his buttocks and held out her hand for Alurai
to bring her a whip. Alurai gave her a black leather
tool that had long, thick tresses of leather. She swung the flogger in a figure
eight pattern, slapping its tresses back and forth across each cheek of the
Drow's exposed posterior. His breath was coming erratically
under the impacts of the flogger. She loved taunting a man into his lusts;
doing so invited her own lust to rise.
Varn stopped flogging the Drow and reached
around, grasping the Drow's engorged member. She
stroked it long enough to make him moan and squirm. Varn took up a cane and whacked it against the man in an unforgiving
blow. The Drow cried out in pain, then blushed in
embarrassment. Varn smiled. She loved reactions,
loved producing them, loved watching them, loved reveling
in them. The second blow of the can landed across the Drow's other cheek; the third and fourth blows landed low
across the ass. She whacked the next two blows across the back of his thighs.
"Girl," she said to Alurai, "Suck this man."
Alurai blushed, but she fell to her knees
all the same and crawled beneath the bench. The Drow squirmed and groaned as
the girl sucked and nibbled his erection, but Varn
continued to apply the cane over and over again, engulfing him in pain and pleasure,
the likes of which he had never known. His length repeatedly slipped from
sight and into Alurai's mouth as the girl worked,
first taking it completely, then slipping back to its head, lingering there,
tongue swirling, then finally devouring it fully again. Varn
did not let up with the cane either. Watching Alurai perform on this man decided Varn
on how to reward this slave. She would drag Alurai
to her and make the girl feast between her legs after the Drow was dead. It
would mean the death of the girl, but she was merely a slave.
Varn continued to cane the Drow and he
became lost in the lust of pain and pleasure, and his reactions seemed to decrease.
Varn stopped the caning and ran her hand down the crack of
his ass to the puckered hole. She shoved a finger up him. The Drow cried out.
She slowly finger-fucked him as she reached forward and wrapped her thumb
and middle finger around the Drow's manhood at mid-length.
Alurai brought her lips to meet them, sucking as Varn
masturbated the Drow.
The Drow melted at the sensations: Varn's
finger working the knob of his prostate in a grand pleasurable pressure, her
hand sliding up and down his erection in a tormenting duet with Alurai's
mouth. Varn finally settled at the base of his erection
and held him there. Aurai fully throated his entire
length and it was all the Drow could do to contain himself. Varn
sensed this, so she pulled herself away from him, pushed Alurai
away, and resumed the caning.
Finally, Varn led the Drow off the bench,
taking him to the bed. Varn took off her clothes.
The Drow stared at the wisps of white hair nestled along each side of her waiting
slit. Instead of disgust, he grew harder. The Drow, attracted by this impurity,
thought of potential blackmail opportunities, opportunities to make this less-than-pure-blood
woman serve him. Varn smiled. She climbed up on the
man's lap and slid down his erection, burying his length into her. Gripping
her by the hips, he thrust upward as she ground downward. Varn cried out as she rode him in slow, measured movements,
movements that became faster and faster as time went on. Her insatiable sexuality
was more than he can stand and he came with a low grunt that hissed from his
clenched teeth. In that very second he died, as Varnkesir plunged her dagger
into his heart on one of her downbeats. She continued to ride him, plunging
the dagger over and over into his chest and neck until she quivered and came,
the whole time imagining it was Lord Domnhall that she was fucking and killing.
She rewarded Alurai with a night in her bed, beneath lush, warm bedding.
She waited until the darthiir slave girl was asleep before killing her and
leaving the brothel.
Daquinquar went slowly through the streets, looking at the various
vendors. She hadn't seen her family for quite some time, but she was in no
hurry. She saw an artist, and this craftsman had created quite a fantastic
drawing of Felyntranzaer, the Hunter of Elves. Daq
had a bit of a crush on the Drow celebrity. She looked at the drawing for a
while, admiring the strength of that warrior, then
went on, lacking the money to actually buy the portrait.
Eventually, Daq reached the home of her remaining family. She did not
personally own a home as she spent much of her time living and exploring in
the caves and caverns she found. She walked up the steps to her parents' home
and a servant outside opened the door for her, greeting her quietly, not looking
at her.
Daq spent the next several hours recounting
her adventures to her mother, two of her sisters, and her cousin. Her cousin,
Malaggar Rrostarr, listened
most intently, playing absent-mindedly with his shadowy dagger with his long
fingers. Although she did not know it, Daq's cousin
longed for Varnkesir, and he didn't want to miss even the slightest mention
of her.
When Daquinquar had finished her tale, Malaggar
sheathed his dark dagger. "Very interesting, Cousin," he said. "Why
mind flayers? Why not destroy an easier target?"
Daq laughed. "Cerlyn is undergoing
the Chwlhendrell, of course."
"She saw the spider?"
"So she says. She saw it on the mind flayer slave of House
Ousstyl."
He wanted to ask questions about Varnkesir, but wasn't sure he could
do it without revealing he rather fancied her, so he dropped the conversation
and went to his room.
Daquinquar walked around the room, talking idly with her sisters
and mother, looking at the various trophies gathered there. One wall had a
collection of over forty ornate boxes. Each box held a severed hand, the hands
of the enemies of Hlaund, her House. Other walls held athletic and magical
trophies.
Her mother, a strong Drow woman named Zilvra,
said, "I have heard that Felyntranzaer, the darthiir
hunter, has come to the city with a host of slaves. Perhaps tomorrow you can
go down and purchase us a new darthiir slave.
Our last spoke back to me and I had to remove her from service."
"I will do so, mother," said Daquinquar. Privately, Daquinquar
was pleased. Perhaps she would get a chance to meet the famed darthiir
hunter.
Daquinquar went into a spare bedroom and took off her clothes, letting
her psionic skin flow off of her into a bowl on a small table. Nude, she lay
down and closed her yellow and orange eyes. She thought about Felyntranzaer
and imagined being with him.
Cerlyn led Zografos and Saaden through winding streets of run down
buildings and tenements. Plenty of humans, dwarves, and many other odd sorts,
as well as plenty of drow are seen as the go. Beggars and performers seemed
to be omnipresent, as were merchants. Slaves, in chains, following their masters and mistresses, or following
their carriages. Cerlyn took the two to a fairly large house with a small
wall around it. A guard welcomed Cerlyn, and she passed through the gate into
a small yard, then up to a door. She led them into the dark house and asked,
"Are you sure you can handle two elves?"
Zografos threw his pack down and stared at Cerlyn, taking her comment
as a challenge. She took them though the halls of the modest house and into
the bedroom. In it were a fairly small bed, a few end tables, and a couple
of chairs. "Be warned," said Cerlyn, "I like to be in charge."
"Oh really?" replied Zografos as he pushed her backwards
onto the bed. A flash of anger flared in her red eyes, and a rapier was in her
hands.
"Really," she responded with an angry sneer.
Zografos laughed. "Very well, have it as you wish", as
he held out his hands to show he would take no more actions of control as he
become aroused because of Cerlyn taking control.
"Undress," Cerlyn said, pointing the rapier at Zografos.
He complied, unbuckling his weapon belt and letting it drop to the floor. He
then began to undo the buckles to his leathers. Cerlyn nodded with approval.
"Keep going," she said. She pointed the rapier at Saaden. "You
too." Saaden sat down her shield and sword and pulled off her chainmail.
In another blink of the eye she was out of her shirt and pants and standing
naked. She had brilliantly dark skin and white hair. She, like all elves, had
no body hair of any sort. Her breasts were small, and her stomach flat and
muscular. Cerlyn looked upon her and smiled broadly, and waited for Zografos
to finish. Zografos had just completed removing his leather armor and quickly
worked to remove the rest of his clothing after seeing Saaden naked, almost
ripping his clothes off his body. Quickly, Zografos was nude as well.
Cerlyn flicked her rapier toward Saaden. "Suck his cock,"
she said. Saaden moved in front of Zografos, then knelt
down. She then closed her eyes and began planting open-mouthed kisses down the
side of Zografos' shaft. Her left hand grasped his penis lightly and she withdrew
her lips, pulling his penis to her left to kiss the other side of the base of
his dick. Zografos noticed that her skin was exquisitely smooth. He caressed
the smooth skin of her cheek and found that it was delicately soft as well.
She drew her open-mouthed kisses towards the head of his shaft and Zografos
luxuriated in the feeling of his cock head being brushed by the soft skin of
her cheek. When she reaches the tip, her left hand held his penis aimed at her
mouth. She parted her lips and extended her tongue, flicking the end of his
cock. She engulfed the crown of his manhood with her lips. Zografos gave out
a shutter of pleasure. She concentrated on the head of his penis, her eyes still
closed.
Cerlyn, still dressed in her leathers, rubbed her crotch with one hand, the
other still held out her rapier.
Saaden, with her left hand, began to gently stroke Zografos' penis.
She clamped her lips tight over the first couple of inches of his cock and began
to flick her tongue against the sensitive underside of the head of his penis.
Her left hand increased its pressure and tempo, rubbing the skin of his shaft
over the nerves and erectile tissue underneath.
Saaden reached down between her legs with her right hand, running
her middle finger up and down the length of her slit as she continued to suck
Zografos. She sighed as she slid her finger up inside of herself, and Zografos
felt her breath on his manhood briefly before she started sucking hard again.
She pumped her finger again and again, in and out, in and out, occasionally
withdrawing and pressing down hard on the top of her sex before resuming the
in and out motions again. She continued to pleasure herself as she sucked on
Zografos' penis. She alternated between taking him in deep and licking along
the length of his shaft. She tried to swallow his entire penis, right down to
his pubic hair. She impaled her face on his cock, locked her lips around the
base, opened her mouth a little more and tried to thrust a little more of his
cock into her mouth. Then she worked her tongue along the underside of his penis,
and slowly withdrew, letting her lips drag along the length of his shaft.
In time, Zografos felt her stiffen up. Her hand in her crotch began
to narrow its movements and move very, very fast. She wrapped her lips around
his dick and simply held him in her mouth. Zografos, caught up in the moment,
began pumping himself inside of her mouth. She began thrusting her hips at
her racing fingers, and moaning deep in her throat. Suddenly, she thrust her
middle finger back into the depths of herself and started pumping it in and
out. Finally, she got very, very still. Her moan started deep, but quickly rose
in pitch, a sustained sound coming from deep in her throat. After 15 or 20 seconds,
she let an explosive breath of air out around his trapped penis; she shuddered
and straightened her legs, trapping her right hand at the junction of her thighs,
her finger still inside of herself. Pulled to climax by Saaden, Zografos groaned
and emptied his seed into her mouth. She started at the power of his first spurt,
but she kept up the motion with her stroking hand. The next spurt of semen coursed
up his shaft and erupted into her mouth. She kept pumping him gently, milking
his cock with her hand and lips. Zografos spurted several more times, each time
depositing more of his sperm in her willing mouth.
When he finish ejaculating, she wrapped
her fingers around the base of his penis and milked him one final time. She
kept her lips wrapped around him and Zografos felt her swallow the load he'd
just shot into her mouth. It took her two swallows to get it all.
Cerlyn applauded the display of Lord Domnhall and Saaden. She said,
"Now, if you two aren't too spent, undress me." Zografos staggered
to Cerlyn followed by Saaden. Saaden undid the snaps and connections of Cerlyn's
armored top, unbuckling everything, and taking it off. She started working
on her underblouse, letting Zografos work on her pants and boots. Zografos
pulled off Cerlyn's boots and untied the strings for Cerlyn's pants. Zografos
pulled off her pants, revealing her hairless dark pussy spread wide. Her outer
lips had parted, and he could see her inner lips quite clearly. Zografos then
realized that the skin of her labia wasn't black, it was actually a delicate
blue, and the folds of her darker blue inner lips spread before him. Zografos
saw the hood of her clit and the darker entrance to her vagina. Unable to resist,
Zografos slowly licked her wet slit, wondering how elvish women would taste
compared to humans. She moaned, then pushed him back
with her feet. "Not yet, human." When Saaden
finished taking off her top, she pushed her away too.
"Lay down, human," Cerlyn said. "On
the floor." Zografos complied.
She straddled his head, then lowered herself down to his face. "Do you mind if
I have a seat?" she asked. In reply, Zografos gave her a good tongue-lashing.
She bit her bottom lip and groaned in pleasure. She motioned Saaden to come
forward, and put the other woman's hands on her breasts. After a moment of sitting
like this, she moaned, "You are good." Cerlyn made Saaden move closer,
and Cerlyn gently parted the folds of Saaden's pussy with her fingers and then
darted her tongue out to lick the exposed flesh of Saaden's inner labia. Saaden
shuddered at the contact. Cerlyn's tongue circled the hood at the top of Saaden's
pussy, moaning at Zografos' actions. Saaden rested her right hand on top of
Cerlyn's head, and moaned in pleasure as her commander quickened her pace, now
gently probing two fingers into the depths of Saaden's pussy.
"It has been so long," moaned Saaden. Guided by Cerlyn's
breathing and gasping, Zografos masterfully probed her inner reaches, causing
her to instinctively gyrate on his face.
"Enough!" ordered Cerlyn. She rose up and took Saaden
to the bed. She shoved the girl down on it. She then laid down on her back
next to Saaden, their feet still on the floor, their legs spread wide. "Fuck
us both," said Cerlyn. "A few strokes each, in turn."
Zografos happily complied. He gave Cerlyn a few slow, exquisite
strokes followed by some quick solid thrusts that were accented by Cerlyn's
gasps of pleasure. Reluctantly, Zografos withdrew from Cerlyn and went to Saaden.
Cerlyn continued to stimulate herself manually. She leaned to Saaden and began
kissing her.
At first, Saaden's pussy was tighter than Cerlyn's, not as wet, but as he thrust
into her, she loosened up considerably. Saaden became oblivious to the world
around her, her eyes closed, her lips responding to Cerlyn's lips almost mechanically.
After a few minutes of this back and forth play Zografos rolled Saaden on top
of Cerlyn. In this position Zografos was able to switch between them much more
quickly and alternated strokes between them. The drow become more vocal as
they neared orgasm. Sensing this, Zografos stopped switching between the ladies
and continued to pump into Cerlyn. He stimulated Saaden with his hand, giving
them both the pleasure of constant stimulation during orgasm. They both thrashed
and came. It was hard for them to stay on top of each other with all the bucking,
but they managed.
Cerlyn pushed Saaden off of her and pushed Zografos back with a leg. "Fuck
Saaden until you cum, Lord Domnhall. I want to watch you fuck her... hard,"
Cerlyn commanded. Zografos nearly attacked Saaden. Having brought the ladies
to climax he was at a boil again himself. He spread Saaden's legs wide and
smashed into her. He grabbed her hips and thrust into her as deep as possible.
Each thrust pulled him further into a lustful frenzy and thus increased the
force of the next thrust. Drawn into the frenzy, Saaden wrapped her legs around
Zografos to increase the force of the thrusts. Zografos was oblivious to everything
except the bouncing of Saaden's breasts. He did not even hear her screams as
she reached climax. Saaden arched her back and thrust her legs straight out,
curling her toes. Saaden's spasming sent Zografos into the heaven of climax
as well. His climactic groan was enough to drown out the screams of Saaden.
He continued to pump and thrust until he was totally drained of semen and energy.
Cerlyn laughed, "Wonderful! Wonderful! Let us sleep and rest, and in
the morning we will play some more games. Tell me, Lord Domnhall, have you
ever fucked an elf in the ass?"
Zografos smiled. Still breathless, Zografos managed to reply, "Not yet."
"You will tomorrow. And I will take no refusal."
Zografos drifted into a heavenly sleep. Exhausted from sex, he was soon asleep
with his head cradled in the perfect bosom of the drow. Almost immediately
he began to dream very good dreams. Three surface elf slaves were using him
to see which gave the better blow job, hoping he would buy them and get them
away from their harsh drow master. The first had given the best head, but Zografos
was leaning towards buying all three.
In the next dream, Saaden and Cerlyn were using the double phallus he got off
a succubus to do each other while he rode Cerlyn's
ass. In the next, he was given two million gold to create an estate in the drow
city after single handed stopping a mind flayer invasion and so on went the
dreams…
Then the dreams changed and images just began to flash in his mind, some disturbing,
some exquisite. He won two female surface elf slaves in a bet. He saw a pair
of old, worn boots just sitting idly in someone's closet. When a shadow past
over the boots they could be seen to be made of very fine leather and seemed
to glisten as if newly polished.
He saw an image of a tub with a drow in it. Eight surface elves were chained
to the ceiling by their wrists. Their feet had been cut off and they were bleeding
into troughs that fed the tub. Zografos could not make out the drow's
face, but he saw himself standing beside the tub reciting dark words.
He was surrounded by eight mind flayers. He couldn't tell if he was talking
to them or enthralled or getting ready to attack before the image changed.
Xug Thaqoroth(sp) was pointing him towards a large block of solid shadows.
A large sword was on a stand, appearing to be made of pure shadow. Zografos
picked it up and it shifted to a rapier. It told him that its name was Tsteleth. Its purpose and goal was to serve the shadow and
to destroy mind flayers.
An image of Captain Janus appeared. He was severely
beaten, but Zografos couldn't make out where he was or who it was that had beaten
him.
He was making love to a drow lady with black hair. He was speaking to her in
Orcish, since she thought it was kinky that she did
not understand what he was saying. He called her Sjachdkdk.
A mind flayer with a katana stood at the end of a hall, flanked on either side
by six humans in strange dress. So exalted was this mind flayer above the others
in the hall that even its thralls had more rank and clout than the mind flayers
in the area.
A flash of an image of him charging a Gelugon.
A mind flayer was speaking to one of the head houses of the city, giving Zografos
the impression that the leader was a thrall of the flayer or that the house
had allied with the mind flayers.
He wore a cloak. A cloak that was alive and despised mind
flayers as much as he did.
He painted one of his slaves and walked her around town. By the end of the
week, he was getting so many requests to paint slaves that he thought about
getting a couple of apprentices.
A drow that actually appeared old placed a hot needle through his tongue and
then placed a bar through the hole. He could now hear and speak the entire
range of the Elvish language.
He saw a vision of him kneeling with a slave collar around his neck.
Apparently word had gotten out that Zografos' love making skills were some of
the best around. He began receiving small gifts and invitations from some of
the leading ladies of the city.
The ladies he traveled with were using him as a sacrifice. Varnkesir cut his
throat so it would bleed on the altar he was chained to. He noticed that there
seemed to be black flecks in his blood before everything went dark.
He freed a slave and the slave turned out to be a dragon.
Same vision, this time the slave was an Angel.
Same vision, this time the slave was a Jann. He was
quite please with the reward she gave him.
Two shadow dragons began rampaging through the city. With a little diplomacy
and a lot of bribing, Zografos saved the city and gained some new dragon acquaintances.
He saw himself dip his sword into a pool of shadowy goo. After that, the sword
seemed to cut through things quite a bit easier.
This time, he was drinking some shadowy goo. His skin darkened…
Zografos was spread eagle on the bed. Four stacks of coins were on his stomach.
Each of his drow companions held down a limb. They were taking turns orally
stimulating him. The one that got him to ejaculate got the coins.
Zografos and his companions had destroyed a lone mind flayer and its dragon
thrall. Apparently the mind flayer had half of the city's leaders enthralled.
He and his companions found and were given quite a lot of gold. With his share
Zografos bought a house and set up a gate that would connect his Alisander residence
to this one. He then went to the capital of Ingara while his mount went to
the plane of shadow and set up a residence for him there. These were also connected
by gates. With these he set up a very lucrative trade between the cities.
Another positive side effect was that the city was ready to go to war against
the flayers…
Zografos was in a dusty tomb. There were strange footprints from the lone entrance
to the sarcophagus in the center of the room. There was no way of telling how
long ago the strange creature had been to this room. The footprints had started
to dust over. Zografos moved to study the sarcophagus. There were no designs
or writing on the outside until his shadow passed over it. There was no way
to tell where the light came from that produced the shadow. There appeared
only one word on the sarcophagus. It was Vulthois. Zografos whispered the
name under his breath wondering if this was a relative of Vulthois or an alternate
spelling. When the name was whispered the sarcophagus's lid began to open.
It opened without a sound. Zografos would have swore a second ago that the hinges were froze solid with rust.
There was a tall slim mummified figure in the sarcophagus. After a minute of
study, Zografos noticed that the figure was missing its left ring finger. The
one that he had replaced with the Ring and Finger of Vulthois.
Green orbs of light flared to life in the mummy's eyes. Zografos tried to
back away but was froze in position. He noticed that several shades were positioned
around his shadow holding him in place. Then the mummy spoke in a ghostly voice
hallow of emotion that seemed to grate on Zografos' bones. "Remember the
visions I have given you. Some have the possibility of coming true and some
are shadows of reality. You have a great potential to bring strength to the
shadow." With that he raised his left arm and "touched" Zografos'
forehead with his missing finger.
Zografos immediately awoke. He was back in Cerlyn's
bedroom. Cerlyn and Saaden were still in reverie entangled in each other. Zografos
swung his legs over the edge of the bed and noticed a layer of dust on his feet.
All of the images he witnessed came back to him suddenly. He rushed to a desk
and wrote down all of the images in his journal.
Inzeladun Updates | Zografos | Current Adventures in Inzeladun | Chronology of the Write Ups
Cerlyn Ilphu, Female drow Rog7/Assassin10: CR 18; ECL 19; Medium-size
Humanoid (elf); HD 17d6+34; hp 93; Init +10; Spd 30 ft; AC 19 (+6 Dex, +5 Armor);
Melee rapier +20/15/10 (1d6+3/crit 18-20), or dagger +16/11/6 (1d4+2/crit 19-20);
Ranged dagger +18 (1d4/crit 19-20); SA death attack, sneak attack, spell-like
abilities, spells; SQ +2 Will save vs. spells or spell-like abilities, +5 save
vs. poison, darkvision 120 ft, evasion, light blindness, poison use, SR 28,
uncanny dodge; AL NE; SV Fort +7, Ref +18, Will +10; Str 15, Dex 22, Con 15,
Int 17, Wis 18, Cha 15.
Skills: Balance +26, Move Silently +26, Hide +36, Read
Lips +9, Bluff +22, Disguise +16, Escape Artist +26, Intimidate +12, Jump +12,
Open Locks +16, Spot +24, Tumble +16 (doesn’t include -1 armor check penalty)
Feats: Improved Initiative, Expertise (Rapier), Quick
Draw, Dodge, Mobility, Improved Critical.
SA–Death Attack: If Cerlyn Ilphu makes a successful sneak attack
after observing the victim for 3 rounds, the victim is killed or paralyzed for
1d6+10 rounds (Fort negates DC 23).
SA–Sneak Attack (Ex): Cerlyn Ilphu deals +9d6
damage against an opponent with a discernable anatomy who is denied a Dex bonus
or is flanked.
SQ–Uncanny Dodge: Dex bonus to AC, can't be flanked, +3 vs.
traps.
Assassin Spells Prepared (-/3/3/3/1):
Equipment: +2 Keen Undead Bane Rapier, +2 Keen Aberration
Bane Dagger, +2 Silk Shadow Armor, Z’henra’s tools (torture kit), 5 doses of
Chiff, 7 doses of Medusa poison.
Saaden, Female drow Psychic Warrior 6/Slayer 10: CR 17; ECL 18; Medium-size
Humanoid (elf); HD 16d10+48; hp 145; Init +6; Spd 40 ft; AC 24 (+2 Dex, +7 Armor,
+5 Shield); Melee longsword +21/16/11 (1d8+12/crit 15-20); SA Favored Enemy
(Mind Flayer), Mind Flayer Sense, Brain Nausea, Lucid Buffer, Cerebral Blind,
Breach Power Resistance, Blast Feedback, Psionic Powers, spell-like abilities;
SQ +2 Will save vs. spells or spell-like abilities, darkvision 120 ft, light
blindness, SR 27; AL NE; SV Fort +11, Ref +8, Will +12; Str 18, Dex 15, Con
16, Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 11.
Skills:
Autohypnosis +7, Balance +6, Bluff +7, Climb +8, Concentration +15, Jump +8,
Knowledge (Illithids) +12, Listen +10, Psicraft +9, Sense Motive +10, Spot +10,
Stabilize Self +8, Swim +8, Tumble +6, Use Psionic Device +4, Wilderness Lore
+10 (doesn’t include -1 armor check penalty)
Feats:
Improved Initiative, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Weapon Specialization (Longsword),
Quick Draw, Dodge, Mobility, Improved Critical (Longsword), Power Attack, Psionic
Weapon, Deep Impact, Cleave, Great Cleave, Combat Manifestation, Speed of Thought
Power Points:
40
Free Level 0 Manifestations Per Day: 13
Psionic Combat Modes: Empty Mind, Thought Shield, Mental Barrier
Psionic Powers
Discovered (3/3/3/3/1): Burst, Catfall, Detect Psionics,
Biofeedback, Hear Light, Hustle, Body Equilibrium, Levitate, Vigilance, Danger
Sense, Displacement, Improved Biofeedback, Dissolving Touch
Equipment:
+2 Keen Aberration Bane Longsword, +2 Phasing Chainmail Armor, +2 Large Metal
Shield.
Varnkesir, Female drow MCRanger 7/Illithid Hunter
9: CR 17; ECL 18; Medium-size Humanoid (elf); HD 7d8+9d10+48; hp 151; Init
+9; Spd 30 ft; AC 20 (+5 Dex, +5 Armor); Melee longbow +16/+11/+6 (1d8+4+1d6
fire) < 30’, Melee longbow +14/+9/+4/+14 (same dmg – Rapid Shot) < 30’,
Ranged longbow +16/+11/+6 (1d8+2+1d6 fire) > 30’, Ranged +14/+9/+4/+14 (same
dmg – Rapid Shot) > 30’; SA Rancor +5d6, spells, spell-like abilities; SQ
+2 Will save vs. spells or spell-like abilities, darkvision 120 ft, light blindness,
SR 27, Hated Enemy +3 (Illithid), Favored Enemy +2 (Aberrations), Favored Enemy
+1 (Undead), Hated Enemy Damage Reduction 10/-, Hated Enemy SR 24 (stacks);
AL NE; SV Fort +14, Ref +16, Will +10; Str 15, Dex 21, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 16,
Cha 15.
Skills:
Concentration +16, Heal +13, Hide +34, Intimidate +17, Intuit Direction +13,
Knowledge (Nature) +14, Listen +22, Move Silently +34, Search +23, Spot +22,
Wilderness Lore +22 (doesn’t include -1 armor check penalty) (Bonus to Bluff,
Listen, Sense Motive, Spot and Wilderness Lore – Illithids +3, Aberrations (minus
Illithids) +2, Undead +1)
Feats:
Track, Improved Initiative, Weapon Focus (Longbow), Point Blank Shot, Precise
Shot, Favored Enemy Strike, Favored Enemy Critical Strike, Greater Resiliency,
Rapid Shot, Iron Will.
Ranger Spells
(2/1): Alarm, Pass Without Trace, Blight Enemies
Equipment:
+2 Mighty (15 STR) Composite Longbow of Hunting (+6 vs. Illithid, +4 vs. Aberrations,
+2 vs. Undead within 30’), 30 +2 Flaming Aberration Bane Arrows, +2 Silent Shadow
Studded Leather Armor, Necklace of Favored Enemy Detection.
Daquinquar, Female drow Psion (Telepath) 16: CR 17; ECL 18; Medium-size
Humanoid (elf); HD 16d4+48; hp 94; Init +2; Spd 30 ft; AC 20 (+5 Dex, +5 Armor);
Melee Skin of the Claw (1d12+2); SA Psionic Powers, spell-like abilities; SQ
+2 Will save vs. spells or spell-like abilities, darkvision 120 ft, light blindness,
SR 27; AL NE; SV Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +12; Str 14, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 17,
Wis 14, Cha 24.
Skills:
Animal Empathy +16, Bluff +26, Concentration +13, Diplomacy +26, Gather Information
+26, Knowledge (Psionics) +22, Psicraft +12, Remote View +13, Sense Motive +21.
Feats:
Inertial Armor, Psychic Bastion, Mind Trap, Power Penetration, Mental Adversary,
Disarm Mind.
Powers Known
(7+d/4+d/4+d/3+d/3+d/2+d/2+d/1+d/d): Missive, Telempathic
Projection, Distract, Daze, Catfall, Burst, Lesser
Natural Armor, Know Direction, Empathy, Conceal Thoughts, Charm Person, Demoralize,
Dissipating Touch, Brain Lock, Detect Thoughts, Inflict Pain, Recall Pain, Burning
Ray, Charm Monster, Crisis of Breath, Schism, Undead Sense, Domination, Mindwipe,
Tailor Memory, Dismiss Ectoplasm, Mind Probe, Greater Domination, Catapsi,
Mass Suggestion, Mind Switch, Flaming Shroud, Mass Domination, Ultrablast,
True Domination
Power Points: 128
Level 0 Free Manifestations Per Day: 19
Psionic Combat Modes: Mind Thrust, Ego Whip, Id Insinuation, Psychic
Crush, Mind Blast, Empty Mind, Thought Shield, Mental Barrier, Intellect Fortress,
Tower of Iron Will
Equipment:
Cloak of Charisma +2, Crystal Mask of Mind Armor, Psionatrix
of Telepathy, Skin of the Claw, Third Eye (Penetrate)