ILLITHID SLAYER CHRONICLES

Volume VII

Back to the Old Ways

(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 Black Tower.  All visitors are required to report there, for it serves as a checkpoint and customhouse for foreigners entering our homeland." A narrow incline led up to the Black Tower. Massive fungi forests stretched beyond the Black Tower
            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 Erelhei-Cinlu looked out like a degenerate lover upon the homeland of the drow.  Black walls encircled the city, thirty-foot walls of black stone, with eleven square towers placed at irregular intervals.  The northern wall, the opposite the group, rose fifty feet in height. Cerlyn led the group to the Great Gate, the southern gate and postern, the only gate in or out of the city that is allowed to outlanders. 
            "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)