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Adrian Shadows of Amn 345


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#1 Arcalian

Posted 09 April 2006 - 09:53 PM

She had been a priestess of Bhaal, once.

Now she was old, and lonley, and hiding in this miserable swamp, in the ruins of what had been the temple of her Master. Even now, a conduit of his power remained; a nexus of murderous energy, glowing green pulsing light. Idly, she wondered why his usurper had never come to claim it. Mind you, she was glad he hadn't.

But with her Master gone, she had been forced to rely on the older ways, the simple sorcery of the elements. Scholars and sages would qualify her now as a Shaman, or perhaps an Adept. She cared little about such things.

Her scrying, such as it was, had told her of the enemy that approached. This day had been long in coming, and if the old witch was in any way surprised about it, it was only that it had not come sooner.

The ghostly undead that often haunted the swamp around the temple ruins would be no help to her today, she knew. They were sleeping soundly, and the one that approached was not their ideal kind of prey.

By her own whim, she suppressed the Skeletons that guarded the temple ruin itself. She would best this foe by her own arts and summonings, or not at all.

Truth be told, since she had been betrayed by the one she had cared for most, she felt most indifferent about her fate. She felt not much in the way of emotions these days, but inside her head she wondered if in some dim way she wanted to die, since the boy had betrayed her. If perhaps she had nothing to live for. But even with her feeligns and memories dampened, she still clung to survival. She would win this battle.

And, in truth, she should've killed this one long ago. The fact that this confrontation was occuring now was simply one of her many mistakes catching up to her.

The Fire Giantess came warily enough to the temple ruins; she was regal for one of her kind; a Lady of power, a "noble", in as much as Fire Giants had such things. Almost a Queen. So this was no foolish headlong rush through the ruins. While not exactly stealthy, the Fire Giant was almost prudent.

Finally, the Giantess came up the stairs. Given the long life of her race, she was still in her prime; a relatively young figure, draped in black scale armor that hugged her flesh invitingly. Her hair was long and black, and her eyes blazed violet. Her skin was blood red and heat radiated from it. Were it not for her impressive musculature, one might almost view her as a succubus writ large. Indeed, her sensuality was not weakened by her physical power, but rather enhanced by it. Such was often the way with Female Giants, once you got past the truly hideous ones of hill, mountain, and stone varieties. Not that the witch cared for physical beauty anymore; her own had long since faded.

"So," said the Fire Giantess said, far more softly than was the habit of the race. "I have found you at last."

"So you have," the witch replied nonchalantly.

"Where is MY SON!?" on the last two words, the Giantess' temprament got the better of her, and she shouted the words loud enough to make the temple walls ring with it. A few stones came loose. The jungle creatures quieted themselves in fear.

The witch herself, after wincing from that shout, replied, "In the mountains near, the boy is. His own crop of followers, he has."

"That settlement is his?" The Fire Giantess blinked in astonishment. "You raised him as one of us? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Raised him to follow the calling of his true father, Nyalee did," the Witch of the Glade responded. "To succeed his father, Nyalee hoped he would. Perhaps he still will. If lives as a giant until that time, Nyalee cares not. But Nyalee has her own troubles with the boy. Betrayed her, he has."

"Good for him," the Giantess chuckled, then went still as she assimilated all else the witch had said. "Wait...his true father? You know which God it was whose avatar lay with me?" The large black mace in the Giantess' left hand faltered a bit.

Nyalee smiled thinly. "Why else would Nyalee steal the boy to begin with, do you think?"

The Giantess blinked thoughtfully. "For years I have hunted you. The foolish human who stole my child. I thought simple malice was your motive, or perhaps to bring a slave giant to fight for some human settlement."

"Nyalee cares not for most people, whatever race they may be. Nyalee stole the boy because he was the spawn of her Master, who is now dead."

The Giantess' face wrinkled in disgust. "A human diety? You lie!"

"Nyalee does not care what you think. But since you insist on asking, tell you the truth Nyalee does. A priestess of that God, Nyalee was, before his death. His own death, the Master did forsee. So he seeded his blood amongst many races, he did. Your son such a one, was."

The Giantess nodded. "And you hoped to raise the heir to your dead god. He must have died during the Mad Time."

"The Time of Troubles, it was, yes. In the ruins of his temple, stand now we do."

"I have never studied the human gods or the temples in detail. Which one was he?"

"Bhaal, he was. Lord of Murder before Cyric." At the mention of the patron's name, the column of green energy pulsed brighter. Neither woman paid it much attention. Nyalee noticed it, but did not care. The Fire Giantess had much more pressing matters on her mind.

"Then at least it was a god with the right attitude, if poor breeding." The Giantess stood tall, and raised her mace once more. "I will see my son, after I kill you."

"Recognize you, he would not. Matter it does not, as alive to see him you will not be."

The Giantess, unusually articulate for one of her kind, wasted no more time on words, and charged, screaming, mace held high.

Her scream was not enough to stop Nyalee's casting, and suddenly the Giantess found her forward progress arrested as magical roots of great power rose and held her off the ground.

The Giantess was clever for her kind, and if her son had not been stolen perhaps one day she might have been the Queen of all that race. As such, she was no mere warrior. Even as her hot skin began to burn the roots and weeds that held her, she began to cast her own spell, and a bolt of lightning rocketed out of the sky.

Nyalee did not duck away, did not try a counter spell. She simply stood there...and the lightning bolt was asorbed by the mystical sheilds she had created, with the power from the column behind her.

As the Giantess stared in astonishment, Nyalee cast another spell of her own, summoning Earth Elementals and Shambling Mounds that advanced on the Giantess. They began to pound away at her.

The Giantess used her considerable strength to yank her weapon arm free and strike back at her enemies. She was stronger than any of them, perhaps even all of them together, but she was still held in place. Although she could fight back, she could not dodge their blows; and her black scale armor took every hit.

Even so she might have won the day. The witch Nyalee, once a priestess of Bhaal, was not prepared to allow for that possibility.

So she blasted the Giantess with ice and cold.

The Giantess screamed.

After that, it was only a matter of time before her body slumped dead in the roots.

"Nyalee may win, Nyalee may die. But Nyalee would never die by the likes of you," the witch said to the corpse.

She turned away and contemplated the glowing column of light.

She missed her master. Missed him very much.
The road to the abyss may be paved with good intentions, but it is those with bad intentions that race down that road as fast as they can.

#2 Guest_Kulyok_*

Posted 10 April 2006 - 05:39 AM

Now she was old, and lonley, and hiding in this miserable swamp, in the ruins of what had been the temple of her Master. Even now, a conduit of his power remained; a nexus of murderous energy, glowing green pulsing light. Idly, she wondered why his usurper had never come to claim it. Mind you, she was glad he hadn't.


I thought it was Melly, first: but yes, all these priestesses of Bhaal are really alike, aren't they?

Truth be told, since she had been betrayed by the one she had cared for most, she felt most indifferent about her fate. She felt not much in the way of emotions these days, but inside her head she wondered if in some dim way she wanted to die, since the boy had betrayed her. If perhaps she had nothing to live for. But even with her feeligns and memories dampened, she still clung to survival. She would win this battle.


A great passage.

"Good for him," the Giantess chuckled, then went still as she assimilated all else the witch had said. "Wait...his true father? You know which God it was whose avatar lay with me?" The large black mace in the Giantess' left hand faltered a bit.


So, he never introduced himself to the lady?

"Recognize you, he would not. Matter it does not, as alive to see him you will not be."


Actually, Nyalee reminds me of Ravel here. "Poor, lonely Ravel..."

So she blasted the Giantess with ice and cold.


Ah. So is she a cleric, or a mage?

She missed her master. Missed him very much.


*shudder*

#3 Laufey

Posted 14 April 2006 - 06:03 PM

She had been a priestess of Bhaal, once.


Now she was old, and lonley, and hiding in this miserable swamp, in the ruins of what had been the temple of her Master. Even now, a conduit of his power remained; a nexus of murderous energy, glowing green pulsing light. Idly, she wondered why his usurper had never come to claim it. Mind you, she was glad he hadn't.


I always felt sorry for Nyalee...she is creepy, but I think she's so very sad at the same time.


Truth be told, since she had been betrayed by the one she had cared for most, she felt most indifferent about her fate. She felt not much in the way of emotions these days, but inside her head she wondered if in some dim way she wanted to die, since the boy had betrayed her. If perhaps she had nothing to live for. But even with her feeligns and memories dampened, she still clung to survival. She would win this battle.


Awww...she really did care about Yaga Shura. ;)


Finally, the Giantess came up the stairs. Given the long life of her race, she was still in her prime; a relatively young figure, draped in black scale armor that hugged her flesh invitingly. Her hair was long and black, and her eyes blazed violet. Her skin was blood red and heat radiated from it. Were it not for her impressive musculature, one might almost view her as a succubus writ large. Indeed, her sensuality was not weakened by her physical power, but rather enhanced by it. Such was often the way with Female Giants, once you got past the truly hideous ones of hill, mountain, and stone varieties. Not that the witch cared for physical beauty anymore; her own had long since faded.


Very nice description here, I could almost see her.


"Nyalee does not care what you think. But since you insist on asking, tell you the truth Nyalee does. A priestess of that God, Nyalee was, before his death. His own death, the Master did forsee. So he seeded his blood amongst many races, he did. Your son such a one, was."


And Nyalee like Master Yoda speaks, she does. :shock:


"Nyalee may win, Nyalee may die. But Nyalee would never die by the likes of you," the witch said to the corpse.


She turned away and contemplated the glowing column of light.


She missed her master. Missed him very much.


As I said...scary, yet sad at the same time.
Rogues do it from behind.

#4 Arcalian

Posted 18 April 2006 - 09:36 PM

So, he never introduced himself to the lady?


He was pretending to be one of her consorts of the time. It wasn't until later she realized something was wrong.

Ah. So is she a cleric, or a mage?


An Adept, actually, which was 3rd Ed's way of describing "primitive, shamanistic" spellcasters, IIRC. This is, of course, my interpretation. TOB itself has her, rather unimaginatively, as a Druid. *shrug*
The road to the abyss may be paved with good intentions, but it is those with bad intentions that race down that road as fast as they can.

#5 Arcalian

Posted 18 April 2006 - 09:38 PM

Very nice description here, I could almost see her.



This chapter really is more about her than Nyalee. It occured to me that Yaga's mother might be more than a little annoyed about her child being abducted....
The road to the abyss may be paved with good intentions, but it is those with bad intentions that race down that road as fast as they can.




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