Betrayal
#6 of Lusts of Faerun
OK guys, sorry its been so long since i got a new chapter up, but here it is. Real life reared its ugly head. And my internet is down. Anyways, Faerun, The Forgotten Realms, Dungeons and Dragons and all names, characters and concepts associated therewith are copyright, trademark and property of Wizards of the Coast, all rights reserved.
Kree woke in a daze, his body on fire with pain. He remembered little of what had happened, bits and pieces. There had been some sort of...revolt, or invasion. No, he realised after surveying his predicament, a coup. His arms, hands and wings were bound in heavy chains, his tail lashed to his back. To further complicate matters, he was inside some sort of circle spell, probably serving as a prison. His body virtually screamed in pain and his scales were mared by long, broad scars. Someone had worked him over good. Even this inside his ass hurt, which did not bode well.
Glancing up he saw a pink skinned human with blazing red hair. His eyes blazed and he roared in fury.
"NALSHETH!!!! I'll have your worthless head for this betrayal!!"
The wyrm laughed uproariously.
"Now, Kree, don't be so angry. Surely you didn't think I wouldn't be interested in a bigger stake? And here I thought you pit fiends were supposed to be diabolical masterminds. Ha! All stuck on yourself. Isn't that right, my dear?"
A nude, feminine form moved past him, tail twitching merrily. She wrapped her arms around Nalsheth and sighed deeply. Nincaled eyed him as if she didn't know him for a second, then grinned smugly.
"Aw, whets wrong? Don't like Hold Monster? Let's see how you like this, then..."
Without a further word she kissed the priest deeply, mashing their mouths together as she never had him. Caustic ooze poured from his maw as he watched. They pulled apart and she winked at him. The dragon laughed.
"Come, Kree, all is not lost. I mean, did you honestly believe a demon would ever see anything in a devil? You see my dear Nincaled is a gift from Lolth."
He pulled an unholy symbol free from his pocket and draped it around her neck; a spider on a chain. Realization hit him like a wave. They seemed to have noticed, for they laughed evilly.
"Finally get it? The Avaricious has an agreement going with the Spider Queen. In exchange for returning the traitorous drow you've been sheltering back to Menzoberanzon, those loyal to the two gain power beyond belief and can dominate the surface world. But only if we get every single one."
They turned from him to the pool in the center of the room, normally used for scrying. They stood side by side and began chanting a long, complicated spell in the language of Demons, Abyssal. After several moments the water seemed to bubble up as if in a fountain, then it became flat as if the water had settled at an impossible angle. After a moment, two images appeared; one of a disgusting, slimy creature with a single, glaring red eye (a yochlol, he knew, a Handmaiden of Lolth) and the other of a regal red dragon, obviously powerful, its eyes like molten metal with no pupil to speak of. Nincaled spoke first.
"Hail, Handmaiden," she said with a deep bow.
The creature regarded her for a moment then spoke.
"Yes, Nincaled. Why do you seek communications with our Dark Queen?"
"I have managed to usurp Alruxus Kree, with the help of Nalsheth."
The monster made a murring sound deep in its throat.
"Yes. Lolth shall be pleased."
At the same time, another conversation took place, slightly more casual.
"Hello Etiol. Is our Mother busy?"
The massive red snorted.
"She would be, had you not called me from her presence. What do you want, Nalsheth?"
The priest smiled broadly.
"What I have to say is for our Mother's ears alone."
The red snapped his jaws in anger.
"Damn you, Nalsheth! I know you only seek to usurp me as our Queen's consort. Be gone,
I've had enough of your scheming!"
Another voice, decidedly feminine, spoke.
"Silence, both of you! I'll not have your bickering disrupt my pleasures!"
The red bowed away from the image and another, a raven-haired human woman appeared. Tiamat in human form. Nalsheth bowed so low that he could barely keep his balance.
"My lad..."
"What is it? You are one of my favorite clerics, Nalsheth, but I'll not have my pleasures interrupted. Even by you. This news had best be of import."
The dragon smiled.
"M'lady, with the aid of Nincaled, servant of Lolth, I have usurped Alruxus Kree. And he has admitted to his sending of an assassin to kill the Supreme Chancellor."
A seductive smile broke across her face.
"Well, well. You have performed admirably. Rest assured, you shall be rewarded as few are..."
She turned to look at the male behind her.
"It seems you have competition for your place, Etiol. Nalsheth has done quite well."
She turned back to him.
"Continue as planned, my servant. Carry out our plans to the letter. Continue to perform as
you have and their well may be a new pecking order..."
The image disappeared and the yochlol spoke once more.
"I have convened with Lolth; you are to be commended for your efforts, Nincaled. You may take your pick from amongst the males you capture to be your personal pleasure slaves. When you are finished, discard them."
The succubus bowed once more.
"Send our Lady my regards, please. Tell her that I will continue to serve."
The fiend chuckled and faded slowly away.
"She knows, Nincaled. She knows..."
Once both spells had ended the two traitors looked to each other and grinned broadly, then turned their eyes on Kree, who glared daggers at them. The succubus laughed.
"Whatever is the matter? Still upset about that little kiss?"
She walked over and kicked him. She did hate him, always had. The love struck fool just couldn't see it. She looked to Nalsheth and smiled deceptively. She hated him, too. Worthless male. If she didn't need them to feed on, she would have discarded him long before. Before he had grown so powerful. And before he had, apparently, achieved the favor of that slut-goddess he served so adamantly.
Nalsheth smirked in response, another ruse. He carried no enmity for the devil, but his goals came foremost. And foremost amongst those was to replace Etiol as consort to Tiamat, the Avaricious. He did, however, hate that whore of a demon, Nincaled. Worthless bitch. Till now the only thing that stopped him from killing her outright, or at the very least banishing her back to the Abyss, was the thought of the demon's ire being leveled against him. And now all that stayed his hand was the thought of the pleasure's she would grant him, and the idea that his queen would be...upset if he abandoned her temporary alliance with the Spider Queen. So the two of them would play this dangerous game. For now.
The succubus Walked back over to her co-conspirator and Leaned against him, turning to face their captive once more.
"And what shall we do with him now?"
The dragon smirked broadly and pulled forth his un-holy symbol.
"I have an idea..."
The rain spattered against the muddy road, pushed on by the wind. His clothes were soaked and clung to his skin, the icy wind cutting into his flesh. A wad of mud seeped into his mouth and he coughed, spitting up blood and spittle. He groaned as he tried to get his hands under him and push himself up off the ground, his fingers convulsing as his palms slipped on the damp muck.
He lay face down on the road, wearing only a thin tunic and a ragged pair of trousers. How long he lay he didn't know, but it must have been some time indeed considering his back no longer stung from the cold and the rain. No longer felt anything, as a matter of fact. Not long after he became aware of a strange warmth seeping through him he heard a strange sound. Clop-shluck-clop-shluck went the noise as it came closer. He tried to turn his head but found he was incapable of moving it. The noise stopped nearby amid the snorting of an animal. He heard the sound of booted feet striking the muck and running over to him. They entered his vision; black, soft-soled boots, the leather worn and rough from travel. The figure slid to a stop and bent down on one knee. A masculine voice rang out, but he wasn't certain what was being said. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder moments before the world began to fade away like a painting splashed with water.
It was dark. A fire crackled merrily somewhere nearby and a blanket weighed down upon him heavily. He found he now had feeling, and wished he didn't. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at a thatched ceiling. Turning his head from side to side he found he was surrounded by daub walls. He leaned up, allowing the blanket to fall away from him, and saw a shadow crouched in front of the fire. After a moment of tending the shadow stood and turned. He glared at it for a moment before turning his head. The shadow chuckled and spoke in a deep baritone.
"Well, that's hardly the way to treat someone who just saved your life. MY name is Togart Samus, Collector and Purveyor of Goods of Less than Reputable Origin and Master of Concealment, Disguises and Illusions."
He glared at the man once more before looking away again. The man, Togart, chuckled again.
"And what," he asked, "May I call you, sir?"
"...Kree."
"Kree? A very interesting name, VERY interesting. Is it Elvish? Zentish?"
"..."
"Come now, talk to me."
He turned and smirked at the man.
"You are very brave human. Few humans would be brave enough to aid a Pit Fiend. When I am recovered I shall ensure your death is a quick one."
Togart laughed uproariously, causing Kree to snarl. He sat further forward and inadvertently looked down. He gasped; where once had been a tough, scaly hide the color of blood and fire was now a pale, human torso, lean and well muscled. He examined his arms; powerful still, but they no longer ended in the claws he would have used to rend this foolish human to bits.
'What has happened to me?... Polymorph?'
The man came over his laughing fit and wiped a tear from his eyes.
"Friend, I fear the cold may have addled your brain. A Pit Fiend? You're a strong man, no doubt, lean and tough as a bull moose in winter. But a Pit Fiend? A Devil of the Lower Plains? You're as human as I. Well, a bit more so."
Rather than going on he strode forward, put his hands on Kree's shoulders and pressed him back into the bed. The former fiend didn't resist; shock had weakened him. He pulled the blankets up over him and stepped back.
"Sleep now, friend. You'll have recovered by morning."
Kree lay and stared at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever recover as memories flooded back into him. Pain of the sort he felt couldn't be healed by rest or herb or spell.
Edited for continuity