Disclaimer: Buffy The Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox. The Forgotten Realms setting is owned by Wizards of the West Coast. Drizzt Do’Urden is own both by Wizards of the West Coast and Authored by R. A. Salvatore. No infringement of these copyrights is intended. All original characters are the property of Wispr.
Author’s notes: First off I want to thank both my Brother and Rebelrsr for the betaing. I’m using both 2nd edition and 3.5 Dungeon & Dragon rules, just so you know… ;)
Fem-slash: Willow/Kendra pairing.
Spinning of the Web…
There exists a race of elves so evil that they were driven from the surface of the world Faerûn, a land also known as the Forgotten Realms, to make their home in the caverns and tunnels deep within the bowels of the earth. This lightless world is known as the Underdark. The elves are known as the Drow.
Like other elves, the Drow are a slender race, with long pointed ears and almond-shaped eyes. Unlike their fair-skinned cousins, though, the flesh of the Drow reflects the darkness of their souls. With skin that is obsidian in color and hair most commonly colored the purest white, their heritage is easily garnered at the slightest glance. The most common eye color amongst them is red, red like the freshly spilled blood from the many sacrifices made to Lolth, the Drow Spider Queen Goddess. Their eyes glow a rich red at times when they use their race’s natural infrared-vision, allowing them to see the difference in temperatures over the distance of a hundred and twenty feet.
Laying nearly two miles below the surface is the Drow city-state called Menzoberranzan. Home to over eleven thousand Drow and another twenty thousand slaves, it is a city of malice, treachery, and despair.
Ruling this vile city are eight noble Houses, the most powerful being the House Baenre, whose matriarch is Matron Mother Yvonnel Baenre, High Priestess of Lolth. She has ruled House Baenre for over a thousand years with an adamantine fist and a keen intelligence that allowed her to spin the most complex webs of intrigue.
Yet, with all of her power, she could not stop the march of time, and time was growing short for her. Death loomed and for a Drow to die of old age was a great disgrace for them and their House. But she had foreseen this centuries ago and put in motion a plan that would leave the other leaders of the ruling Houses (and, most importantly, her own daughters) reeling in both horror and awe.
She had found a way to cheat the shameful death of old age.
Years of research and the procurement of slaves (who were sacrifice afterwards to keep their knowledge hidden), the skills of crafting items both magical and mundane, plus the costly materials she paid for out of her own pouch… All of that led to the creation of a very unique artifact.
The artifact had the appearance of a giant spider. Its body was the size of a surface animal called a horse, carved from a black crystalline substance, resting upon a platform made from a slice of a stalagmite. Its eight legs hung outstretched from its body in mid air and from their tips swung the egg sacks of an intelligent shape-shifting spider named Arenea.
Instead of Arenea’s spawn growing within the egg sacks, though, there were actually clones of the Matron Mother herself. After first mixing her very own tissue and blood in an alchemical solution, the Matron Mother had injected the liquid into the freshly spun eggs. Each egg had been specially blessed by her while the power of Lolth flowed most strongly through her, signifying Lolth’s supporting of her plan.
To feed the embryos, an elf, brought to this most secret of chamber by her very hand, was impaled upon the artifact’s magically mobile fangs. The elf was slowly consumed over a week’s time, leaving behind a dry, desiccated husk. The victim’s blood and fluids - and yes, even their very life force - traveled through specially hollowed tubing that passed through the artifact’s body and down its legs into the egg sacks. The process delivered nourishment that was greedily taken by the rapidly growing life within them.
Eight eyes graced the artifact’s head, glowing red with malevolence. Only six still burned now, symbolizing the failing of two of the egg sacks.
The culmination of centuries of research and work came down to this very moment.
Birth.
With a whispered command, the legs lowered themselves and their burden to the highly polished stone floor. Matron Mother Baenre slowly walked around the artifact, expressionlessly watching the now squirming infants trying to force their way through the spider silk sacks. This was a test handed down by Lolth herself: to be worthy of being a true Drow, the infants must hatch as did spiders.
Matron Mother Baenre felt a slight aggravation as first one then another sack became still with the death of the infant. The sudden sound of a web tearing drew her attention, and she watched as one infant tore itself free to roll awkwardly onto the cold stone floor. With a sudden indrawn breath, the clone began to cry. The volume and length of the cry impressed the Matron Mother; though, the expression on her face didn’t show it.
After checking for any imperfections (and not finding any), she left the wailing infant on the floor to watch the last three egg sacks grudgingly give up their contents. The third infant to hatch was quickly and efficiently silenced with a slash of her ritual dagger - the clone had spider mandibles and four spider legs growing from its sides.
Once the Matron Mother Baenre was satisfied with the three remaining clones, she moved them to another room. There was a large web, five feet across, inscribed upon the floor, and its delicate channels were filled with the purest of mithral.
After leaving the three wailing infants on the floor beside the web, she retrieved a small box from a fiercely warded chest. Inside the box were eight small black spiders carved from the same material that made up the artifact in the other room.
Taking the first-born of her clones, she placed the child in the center of the mithral web and with a word of command caused the webbing to entangle the infant. Then, taking one of the small spiders, the Matron Mother used the miniature fangs to cut one of her fingers, after which she liberally smeared the spider with her blood from the now bleeding finger.
She watched in silent satisfaction as the crystalline material absorbed her blood, and, once done, she sat the spider on the edge of the mithral web. It immediately began to skitter across the webbing toward the crying infant. Once it reached its intended victim, the spider climbed up onto the clone’s heaving chest. When it reached the center of the infant’s body, it raised its front pair of small (but extremely sharp) legs and rammed them into the newborn’s flesh and the bone underneath it.
The Matron Mother watched avidly as the spider burrowed each set of legs into the now screaming infant’s chest and, once all eight legs were securely implanted into the clone’s sternum, one of the magical spider’s powers took effect.
The clone began to change.
The idea for this part of her plan came from some arcane research that had been taken from a House that she had destroyed over five hundred years ago. It seemed that the Matron Mother of that now dead House had discover a way to channel the dark energies from a portal, a place of weakness between the dimensional barriers called a Hellmouth.
Using a magical focus - the spiders - the dark energies could be used to imbue a child growing up on the Hellmouth with mystical powers. The child would develop the ability to cast both divine and arcane spells when they became a young adult, and the spells could be either granted from a deity or learned from books of magic. The fascinating thing was that once a spell was learned from either schools of magic, the young adult could recast them anytime she wanted as long she had enough personal power for the spell.
The only drawback to this was that it only worked on a child that grew up on a Hellmouth, and no Drow, especially a Matron Mother, would trust another Drow with such power.
But Matron Mother Baenre was able to foresee a way around this conundrum. She modified the properties of the mystical focus so it acted as something akin to a Lich’s Phylactery, an item used to store the Lich’s life force. For her purpose, it acted as a conduit for her own soul, which would enter after the Matron Mother killed herself in a specially designed ritual. After her soul entered the crystalline spider, she would use the focuse’s other ability to switch places with the young adult’s soul. Trapping the other’s soul within the spider, the Matron Mother would have a fresh young body and access to the magical abilities of its former occupant. The other’s soul would be able to see and hear what was going on around it but would not be able to interact in any way with the outside world.
A true living hell.
The focus served another important role and this was the reason for using the eggs of a shape-shifting Arenea.
The Matron Mother watched as the child’s skin lightened to that of a pale human tone and the white hair shifted into a deeper red color. The infant’s eyes changed from beautiful red to green, like the color of the plant life on the surface of the sunlit world.
After the metamorphous ran its course, the Matron Mother Baenre found herself fighting her disgust at what she saw.
Her clone was human.
Unfortunately, the world that the Hellmouths were locate on were inhabited mainly by humans, thus the need to hide her clone’s Drow heritage. The only positive side effect was that being human would allow the child to age faster, reaching young adulthood sooner than a Drow would normally. When she was changed back into her proper race, she would have the body of a young adult Drow many years older than she was physically.
The only visible traces of the crystalline focus were a small red spider-shaped birthmark resting between what would be the clone’s breasts.
Soon, she had three squally human infants before her, all of which looked the same. It was one of the reasons they would be sent to different Hellmouths.
With a rush of displaced air, three Yochlols (otherwise known as Handmaidens of Lolth) portaled in. They were denizens of the Abyss and they only served Lolth. Currently, they had the appearance of a Drow-sized pillar of melting brown wax that had eight pseudopods and one large eye. They could also appear as either a giant spider or a human or Drow female.
With reverence, Matron Mother handed each newborn to one of the Handmaidens. Two of the clones grew quiet as they squeezed their eyes shut in terror. The first born, though, stared in wide eyed amazement at the demonic entity that held it, and it was that one that the Matron Mother had the Yochlol take to the most active Hellmouth in the town called Sunnydale.
The Handmaidens had to be stealthy in passing through the dimensional barriers into the other world. For that world was inhabited by beings that believed strongly in retaining the balance between good and evil. They would not like the fact that an outsider, especially a Goddess such as Lolth, was showing interest in their world.
Once on the other side, the Handmaidens located the intended parents, who had been previously chosen through powerful augury spells. The Yochlols placed specifically prepared geas upon the humans, making the humans believe the child was theirs and ensuring that they would remain on the respective Hellmouths through the child’s growing years.
For the next sixteen years, the Matron Mother watched as first one and then the second of the three glowing eyes lost their glow, revealing the death of the corresponding clone.
Unknown to the Matron Mother, one died when she was six years old from a severe reaction to a new brand of bug spray. Her parents used the pesticide to combat the spiders infesting their daughter’s bedroom. The other died in a very odd accident involving the inappropriate insertion of a musical instrument into a body orifice at band camp.
Then it was time. The artifact had started with eight glowing eyes, and after sixteen long years there remained only one. It didn’t really surprise the Matron Mother that the eye represented her first born clone, the one sent to Sunnydale.
Turning away from the artifact, she faced the single Handmaiden and, with a regal nod, sent it on its way to retrieve the clone. Soon, she would have a new and younger body to rule both her House and Menzoberranzan. Thus giving her the much needed time to carry out her revenge upon the Dwarven city of Mithral Hall and the ruling Clan Battlehammer.
I was born with a blood red, spider shaped birthmark on my chest. I guess with something like that, I shouldn’t have been surprised that I have always been drawn to spiders growing up. My parents constantly had to clean webs out of my cradle and then my bedroom itself. My first pet was a Carolina Wolf Spider, Hogna carolinensis. I named her Sue. I had just begun school at the time. She lived in a barrow under a decorative piece of stone in the back yard.
I had to be careful playing with her - not that I feared her biting me. I had never been bitten by a spider. No, I feared my parents finding out about her and killing her. I lost many eight legged little playmates to my parents.
My two friends, Xander and Jessie, were both terrified and yet awed by Sue. She would come out of her little barrow when I made little chittering noises. I told the boys it was her name in spider-speak, and the doofuses believed me! She would very daintily take bugs from my fingers. Xander and Jessie would catch the bugs for Sue, but wouldn’t go so far as to actually hand feed her. Though, they thought how she ate them was soooo cool!
Then tragedy struck. One day I was lying down on the ground, facing Sue as she came out of her barrow to my calling her name, when, with a flicker of motion, she was gone. Looking frantically over, I saw a frog swallowing Sue. The last I saw of her was her eight little eyes begging me to save her then she was gone.
My screams brought my parents running… I think that was the most attention they had ever paid me.
After that ill-fated day, I never played with another spider again. At times, though, I would watch them, and when I would awaken to find one sharing my pillow, I would gently shoo it away. Otherwise, I ignored them.
And I grew to both hate and fear frogs.
Willow Baenre
Secret Thoughts…
Willow knew she should be concentrating on the spell to recurse Angelus with his soul, thus making him Angel again. But she was kind of distract-o girl right now because she was surreptitiously watching Kendra pace around the library. Well… maybe not as surreptitiously as she wanted to be, when once again her and Kendra’s eyes met as they shot each other furtive looks. For a moment, their eyes locked and then they both hastily looked away from one another, Willow back to studying the curse while Kendra fiddled with her backup stake.
With a quiet sigh, Willow let her mind drift to the first time Kendra had arrived in Sunnydale in November. That was a busy week, between the Order of Teraka, Spike using Angel in trying to restore Drusilla, and it also happening to be Career Week!
It was odd at first with Kendra being about; Willow could tell that the Jamaican Slayer reminded Buffy of her death by the Master’s hand… or mouth …or, since she had drowned, would that be by his puddle?
With a shake of her head, Willow refocused her thoughts on the memories of that month as she absentmindedly scratched her spider-shaped birthmark through her t-shirt. She was beginning to think her new bra was irritating it with how it was beginning to itch.
Anyway, after everything was taken care of, Kendra had ended up staying for a couple of days. Her Watcher, Mr. Zabuto, wanted to go England to pick up some rare books at an auction and had asked Giles if his Slayer could stay.
Giles readily agreed, thinking Kendra could stay with Buffy. He hadn’t picked up the awkwardness Buffy felt around the other Slayer. Willow was quick to offer Kendra a place to stay at her house, since her parents were gone on one of their numerous trips. Buffy had taken her aside and thanked her for the trouble of putting Kendra up. Willow quickly and enthusiastically assured her it was no trouble at all. Looking back now, Willow could finally understand the strange look Buffy had given her at the time. She probably had come across too eager at the time.
At the time, though, Willow herself really didn’t understand why she had felt so pleased that Kendra would be staying at her house. Willow only knew that she wanted to spend time with the other Slayer. Willow told herself part of the reason was, after hearing Kendra and Giles discussing the many different ancient tomes they had read, Willow was very taken with the intellect shown by the reserved Slayer. It would be nice to talk about book stuff with someone her own age and ahh… gender.
That first night, when Kendra had explained that she didn’t have anything to sleep, in Willow had felt a very odd jerk down low that had thrown her for such a loop she ended up stammering as she offered one of her nightshirts for Kendra to sleep in. They were about the same height and all; though, Kendra was broader in the shoulder and with her being more endowed than Willow…the shirt was rather tight in some very interesting places.
The two of them ended up sitting on the couch, talking late into the night about ancient tomes. Willow even got Kendra to tell her a little about how it was growing up as a Potential. Even though the conversation was very mentally stimulating, Willow would find herself distracted at times by Kendra’s more… um… physical attributes.
Willow found her eyes captivated by the contrast between Kendra’s darker skin and the ivory color of the night-shirt. Or how the night-shirt’s material molded itself across the Jamaican’s hips and outlined her muscular thighs. Willow’s eyes drifted down, drawn to how the cotton fabric stretched itself across the Slayer’s chest, making it very visible that there wasn’t anything being worn underneath.
At times, Willow could tell that Kendra was distracted, too; her eyes would roam Willow’s body and then suddenly jerk back. When Willow was able to meet Kendra’s eyes, there was a hint of embarrassment and something else in them. Something that Willow couldn’t name right then, but felt, in her gut, that her eyes reflected that same emotion.
When their yawning finally became too much to ignore, they made their way upstairs to bed. The two of them ended up facing one another in the hallway with the doors behind them that led to Willow’s and her parents’ bedrooms. They stared at each other, unsure of what to say, when Kendra took Willow by surprise. Stepping forward, she gave her a slight peck on the cheek with a whispered, “Goodnight.”
Willow watched in stunned amazement as Kendra disappeared into her parents’ bedroom after giving her a bashful smile. She simply stood there in the hall with one hand covering the spot on her cheek that seemed to almost burn where the Slayer’s lips had touched her.
When she went into her own room to sleep, it took a long while to come as Willow’s mind whirled with strange feelings and thoughts.
“I can’t be feeling what I think I’m feeling!” Willow thought to herself as she lay in bed. “For one thing, Kendra is a girl and… actually, that pretty much sums it up.”
That night, she got only a few hours of restless sleep as she wrestled with the implications and possible repercussions. She had grown fearful of what her friends’ reactions would be if she really was gay. Willow had seen how the other students had treated the few openly gay students at Sunnydale High, and she didn’t truthfully know if she could handle that on top of how she was already treated as a nerd. Not to mention association with Buffy.
Willow wondered, as sleep claimed her that night, what Kendra’s lips would feel like against her own.
The following day, she was a very tired bundle of nerves, and every time she was around Kendra, Willow had to force herself not to stare at her lips. Then, when Buffy came over to spend the night, Willow felt a mixture of relief and regret. The only really good thing to come out of the previous night was becoming Kendra’s pen-pal.
Sadly, that hadn’t worked out. All of the letters she sent off were never answered, and when she finally went to Giles, he had called Kendra’s Watcher and had regretfully told Willow that Kendra wanted to concentrate on her Slaying and didn’t have time for anything else.
Feeling hurt and confused, Willow had fallen into a slight depression; though, she was able to keep it well hidden. By the time Oz had asked her out, Willow had convinced herself that she really wasn’t gay and had just read too much into that evening. Oz was nice and very fun to be with, and her friends seemed to approve of him - even with him being a werewolf.
Though Willow never did feel that special spark like she imagine with Kendra, she did care for her boyfriend very much. She was happy.
Then Kendra walked back into her life, and that imaginary spark became a very real flame. Kendra had acted odd around her; she was both withdrawn and yet Willow would catch her staring at her with a mix of hurt and longing in her eyes at the same time. Willow knew she was doing the same thing.
Oz must have sensed something was up because he became very touching and almost protective of her around Kendra. Willow just hoped he…
Burning!
The fiery sensation from her birth mark brought Willow back to the present with jarring painfulness. Even as she clasped her chest in agony, Willow felt like liquid fire was spreading from the birthmark into her veins. The pain was so bad all she could do was curl up in a fetal position, whimpering through her clenched teeth.
The last thing Willow heard was the startled cries from her friends and Kendra then she felt a strange sucking sensation from her birthmark that dragged her into unconsciousness.
- - - - - - - -
Kendra silently berated herself after once again finding herself gazing at the red head sitting on the library’s table. Now was not the time to be distracted, no matter how appealing the distraction was.
Kendra could remember the first time she had come to Sunnydale and her reaction to meeting the Scooby’s. That night, her whole outlook on life changed forever. She’d found out how Buffy was able to live a mostly normal life that included friends.
It was the other Slayer’s friends that had really redefined how Kendra viewed things. With Xander, she really didn’t know how to react. Mr. Zabuto was very strict on not allowing her to spend any time with boys…really anyone, for that matter. They would only divert her attention from her calling. And Xander had such laughing eyes and an open face that she had found herself feeling confused and tongue-tied.
But then there was Willow. At first, the red head hadn’t really caught the Jamaican Slayer’s attention. Then, as the night wore on, Kendra found her eyes lingering on the shy girl. The red head’s pale skin made a wonderful counterpart to her hair, creating a perfect framework around her beautiful green eyes. Those eyes shone with such passion at times that Kendra’s breath was stolen from her by some unknown emotion that roared through her.
By the end of the first night at Willow’s house, Kendra knew that she was very attracted to Buffy’s best friend. She also could tell that the attraction was mutual; though, judging by the looks of confusion that crept across Willow’s face, the other girl didn’t quite know what was going on.
Even though Kendra had led a relatively sheltered life, she did know about homosexuality. She also knew of the intolerance that was very prevalent in Jamaica and other places. Even her own Watcher, Mr. Zabuto, was very much against it; though, he didn’t agree with the acts of violence made against homosexuals. That led to her remaining very quiet about her orientation; for once she was old enough for her sexuality to awaken, she had figured out that she was bisexual.
And that was all she was able to figure out. As she had grown up under the constantly vigilant gaze of her Watcher, Kendra never had a chance to develop the most basic of friendships. It was one of the reasons she threw herself into her Slayer training and studies; it helped to fill a void in her life that really hadn’t mattered until she met Willow.
After that first night, she found herself cursing her fate for the first time in her life, bemoaning the fact that she would be leaving and most likely never return. The following day, while Willow was at school, Kendra spent the time in the library with Buffy’s Watcher, Mr. Giles. She knew she had pestered him with questions about the red head but couldn’t help herself. Kendra was pleasantly surprised that Mr. Giles patiently answered her every inquiry.
He even made the suggestion that she and Willow become pen-pals. Kendra readily agreed and vowed to herself that she would ask Willow that night.
That following night, Kendra was a nervous wreck. She found herself hoping that something would happen between the two of them, even if it was only for one night. Another part of her didn’t want anything to happen, for she feared the pain of separation afterward. There was also the fact that, besides some very vague ideas, she had no idea what to do!
With her mind in such a state, Kendra was of two minds on finding out that Buffy had invited herself to have a sleep over with Kendra and Willow. Kendra could sense a bit of confused frustration from Willow about her best friend staying the night. The rest of the night turned out to be very awkward for the three of them. Kendra could tell Buffy was trying too hard to overcome her uneasiness around her. This, of course, caused the blonde Slayer to be completely oblivious to the tension between Kendra and Willow.
The only good thing to come from that night was Willow happily agreeing to the pen-pal idea.
After Kendra’s return to Jamaica, she immediately wrote a letter to Willow, which she gave to Mr. Zabuto when he went to mail some correspondence out to the Council. Kendra didn’t have any money herself so had to rely on her Watcher, who very grudgingly agreed to pay for the postage.
She then waited; after two weeks had gone by, she wrote another letter and waited.
Again, there had been no reply.
When she attempted to send a third letter, Mr. Zabuto had berated her for allowing herself to be distracted from her calling and forbade her from writing anymore letters. He tore the letter up before throwing it in the trash.
During the following months, Kendra once again threw herself into her training, even surprising her Watcher at her newfound diligence and commitment. There were times, mostly at night while lying in bed that the pain of what might have been caused her to cry herself to sleep.
Then Kendra returned to Sunnydale and found the reason, or so she thought, behind Willow’s not writing her.
She had a boyfriend named Oz, who was a werewolf.
Kendra could tell that Oz felt threatened by her presence; he constantly touched Willow or put his arm around her. The entire time, he stared at Kendra in a very challenging manner. After reading The Guide to Werewolves’ Behaviors and Habits, Kendra easily recognized the posturing of a werewolf claiming its mate from a rival. Though Oz was so laid back about it, Kendra came to the conclusion that he wasn’t aware of what he was doing.
Then there was Willow herself, still so beautiful… and once Kendra looked into Willow’s green eyes, she found herself aching with loss.
A muffled whimper of pain and a round of startled exclamations drew Kendra’s attention to the red head in question. When she saw Willow curled up with a look of agony on her face, Kendra called out Willow’s name in shock.
It was at that moment Vampires stormed the Library, and Kendra found herself staking one even before she became fully aware of the attack. She then saw Willow go suddenly limp just as a fiery red portal opened beside the Library’s counter.
And from it some-thing stepped through.
Throughout the Realms there was no other race so widely known for its cruelty, cunning, and selfishness as the Drow. But there was another thing for which they were known: their rather provocative and scandalous style of dressing. At least, scandalous to the other races, that is.
For the Drow, clothing was a form of protection, not only against the elements or – in the case of armor - against attacks. Their lingerie style of dressing served as a protection against being perceived as physically weak or flawed. Like the Spartans of ancient Greece, the Drow believed in being physically fit, and they wanted to show everyone that their bodies had no flaws or defects. To them, a Drow who dressed in concealing clothing must be hiding some kind of defect and thus were seen as weaker.
Drow also knew how distracting such scrumptious eye candy could be.
Willow Baenre
Dark Reflections…
For a moment, Kendra stared in shock at the demon. And demon it was - her Slayer senses were going crazy. She had never seen one with such an inhuman appearance. It looked like a man-sized pillar of melted brown wax, with a single large eye near the top and eight pseudopod-like arms, four on each side of its body.
Even as Kendra started moving toward the new threat, the demon quickly glided across the floor to attack two of the vampires near the library table, slamming them with its powerful pseudopods. Over the sounds of the vampire’s cries of pain, Kendra heard a woman’s British accented voice screaming out in the hallway. Something about, “Itty bitty spiders,” before fading away as if the woman had run away.
Kendra closed in on the demon. It sent two pseudopods swinging at her. After easily dodging them, Kendra stabbed her stake deeply into the demon’s fleshy folds. So strongly did she strike that her hand, and the stake it held, sank up to the wrist into the demon’s side.
Pain!
Kendra let out a cry of anguish as she jerked her hand out and found it and the wooden stake covered with tiny bite marks. Her distraction gave the demon an opening, which it didn’t hesitate to take. Kendra let out a painful grunt as she was hit by at least three pseudopods; their combined strength sent her fly across the library to crash into the open book cage.
Blinking the stars from her vision, Kendra quickly scanned the library. She was dismayed at seeing that Buffy’s Watcher, Mr. Giles, was missing. She was pleased to see Willow’s friend Xander and the brown-haired girl with him dust what appeared to be the last of the vampires, though. The rest of the vampires had seemingly fled.
Kendra’s eye widened in fear when she noticed the demon picking up Willow’s comatose body. Pushing herself off the floor, Kendra spun around and violently ripped the door off of the cabinet that held the Scoobies’ weaponry. Hurriedly, she pulled out a long sword. Feeling better armed now, Kendra charged the demon in a display of Slayer speed, desperately trying to stop it from reaching the still-open portal.
She was too late.
She watched in horror as the demon disappeared into the glowing portal, the red head held firmly by several of its pseudopod arms. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kendra threw herself at the rapidly closing portal, not caring about what might lie beyond it.
Menzoberranzan…
Matron Mother Baenre quietly watched the glowing portal that the Yochlol had left open for its return trip. Even though she stood alone within the room, her face showed none of the anxiety that she was feeling. One did not survive the intrigues of Drow society without learning to keep one’s thoughts and feelings from showing for all to read.
Soon she was pleased to see the Yochlol exit the portal with her human clone. Matron Mother Baenre wasn’t as pleased when a sword wielding human female came diving out of the portal, too. The human hit the ground before the portal closed and rolled to her feet, striking the Yochlol a mighty blow across the Handmaiden’s back.
The Yochlol let out an unearthly screech of pain which echoed eerily as it turned itself into a cloud of noxious gas, dropping the clone none too gently to the stone floor in the process. Matron Mother Baenre quickly cast several spells of protection on herself as she watched the human female stagger out of the Yochlol’s gaseous form, gagging from breathing in the toxic fumes. The Matron Mother did note, though, that the human female grabbed the clone to drag her out of the cloud.
Fortunately, the flames from the summoning brazier that she and the Handmaiden had used to open the portal gave off enough light that Matron Mother Baenre wasn’t forced to switch to her infravision. She was grateful for that; Drow eyes softly glowed red when using infravision and she didn’t want the human to notice her yet. Not that she felt any fear, not in the least did she fear this human. No, Matron Mother Baenre found herself intrigued by the power and speed this human has shown so far.
From the shadows, Matron Mother Baenre watched quietly at the human female’s unusually quick recovery from the Yochlol’s gases. The Yochlol stayed hovering in its gaseous form over the summoning brazier, absorbing the fumes into its body to heal the physical damage it had suffered.
Suddenly, Matron Mother Baenre heard the Yochlol’s voice whispering in her mind (this was an ability granted to the aged Drow from Lolth herself), “Matron Mother, the Goddess commands you to capture this one. For this human is a Champion of the Light; though, she has been imbued with the dark energies of demon kind. The Spider Queen wishes for you to learn the secrets behind this, and in reward, you can used the knowledge for the betterment of your House.”
“Lolth’s wishes are my commands!” Matron Mother Baenre mentally replied.
She waited for the Yochlol to turn solid once again; though, this time it took the form a giant spider. The human female immediately put herself between the Yochlol and the clone, readying her sword for any attack. Instead of attacking as expected, the Yochlol shot a stream of webbing at the human, attempting to entangle her in its sticky strands. The human moved in a blur of motion and avoided the webbing.
Once she came to a standstill, though, and appeared to gather herself to charge the Yochlol’s spider form, the Matron Mother entered into the battle. Though she was old, she was far from being weak - especially when it came to magic.
Lifting a small wand made of what appeared to be plain wood, she activated its powers with a mental command. From its tip shot a thick strand of webbing which flew across the room toward the human female. Matron Mother Baenre was intrigued when, even before the magical web struck the human female, she began to react as if she sensed the attack.
The human spun around, leading with her sword. Such was her accuracy, her blade actually struck the strand of webbing. Her defense proved fruitless, though; the magical strand of spider silk spun around both the blade and the female wielding it with impossible speed, entangling her in its sticky strands. The Yochlol took this opportunity to leap across the distance separating the two of them, landing beside the now prone human and biting deeply with her poisoned fangs.
The Yochlol’s bite didn’t go unanswered; in a feat of startling strength, the human female’s sword burst from the confining spider silk to slash the Yochlol across its underside. With a hiss of pain the Yochlol once again turned into its gaseous form, after which it made sure to envelop the human, causing her to gag and cough even as she tore her way free of the webbing in which she was ensnared.
Matron Mother Baenre found herself both pleased and displeased as she watched the human fight off some of the spider’s poison’s strength sapping effects. Raising her hand, she called upon the powers of her Spider Queen Lolth and cast one of her more powerful spells.
Due to the Matron Mother’s devotion to Lolth, she had been granted the ability to use spells that normally required her to physically touch the target; now, however, she could strike them from afar instead.
The human female gave a horrendous scream of agony as terrible wounds opened up all across her body, causing her clothing to immediately become soaked with blood. The Yochlol darted in to deliver yet another poisonous bite to the critically wounded human. The female still was surprisingly able to swing the sword with some precision; though, not enough to harm the quickly moving Yochlol this time.
Both Drow and Yochlol watched as the female human first dropped to one knee and then the other. Her sword fell from rapidly weakening fingers. The Matron Mother began to make her way toward both her clone and the human as the human crawled across the stone floor toward the clone, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. They both arrived at the same time; though, the human didn’t seem to notice Matron Mother standing close by.
When the human finally noticed her, Matron Mother Baenre watched with cruel delight as the human female feebly tried to raise herself from the floor. In the end, she simply draped herself on top of the clone in a vain attempt to protect her. Ignoring the slight pain from her aged joints, the Matron Mother dropped to one knee to grasp the barely conscious human by her hair; she wanted to see the defeat reflected in the human’s eyes.
The Matron Mother let a vicious smile cross her withered lips as she saw the defiance that still burned in the human female’s eyes. After speaking telepathically to the Yochlol, she waited as the Yochlol moved up behind the human. As the Handmaiden moved across the stone floor, her form wavered and she morphed into a very beautiful, nude Drow female. Crouching down behind the human, the Yochlol grabbed the terribly weakened female, making sure to dig her fingers brutally into the open wounds covering the blood-slicked flesh. She smiled at the whimpers of pain her actions drew forth from the female that had harmed her.
With the Yochlol’s poison having left the human as weak as a newborn, the Yochlol easily pulled the human up into a sitting position until she faced both the Matron Mother and her clone.
Matron Mother Baenre reached down to twist a handful of her clones red hair in her gnarled, yet still strong fingers. After pulling the clone’s head up onto her leg, she pulled out a small dagger and bent it toward the clone’s neck. This action caused the firmly held human female to cry out in a language unknown to the Matron Mother; though, the fear behind female’s words was deliciously sweet to her Drow ears.
Ever so slowly, the aged Drow slipped the dagger’s blade under the shirt her clone wore. The Matron Mother then commenced cutting the shirt from top to bottom, revealing the clone’s bloody, cloth-covered breasts. The odd breast coverings didn’t offer any hindrance to the adamantite blade. The human female’s eyes widened in horror as she caught sight of what lay between the clone’s breasts. The crystalline spider had pushed itself up through the clone’s flesh, leaving the tips of its legs still buried in the bone of the clone’s sternum. Though now, instead of being black, the crystal spider’s body glowed a soft red, showing that it had successfully drained the clone’s magical reserves.
Setting the dagger on the floor behind her, Matron Mother Baenre ran her finger along its edge, opening a slight cut along the digit. She then rubbed the bleeding finger against the crystal spider’s surface and, once she felt the mystical connection, she spoke a word of power to activate the spider.
Using the magic stolen from its host, the crystal spider reversed the polymorph that it had done sixteen years ago. The pale human flesh around the spider was the first to change; then, in a slowly flowing wave, the human reverted back into her true self.
The process was excruciating.
The Matron Mother kept a firm grip on the clone’s hair as her clone awoke screaming while her body arched and trembled as the metamorphosis ran its course. The human female held by the Yochlol let out a wail of denial before succumbing to her wounds and passing out.
Matron Mother Baenre watched as the sickeningly pale human flesh turned back into the beautiful ebony of a Drow. Even as she reveled in the clone’s ongoing cries of agony, the Matron Mother greedily drank in the sight of the clone’s green eyes being supplemented by the red of freshly spilled blood. She avidly watched as the clone’s facial features stretched and molded themselves back into their true Drow heritage. The transformation ended with the clone’s hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows fading into their normal snowy whiteness.
She was a Drow once again.
To be continued…
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