RP:General Deriin
Part of the Agitation Arc
Summary: Deriin* travels to the mindflayer’s fighting pit in the Dead Caves and finds two ‘drow’ (the elves Erlan and Molostroi in disguise) trying to claim an umberhulk’s corpse. A fight is about to break out when Deriin intervenes and discovers that the two troublemakers are linked to the Shade Nightmare. He agrees to take the umberhulk to the creature. There, the Shade Nightmare (who needs a better name by now) asks Deriin to show his power and Deriin kills Erlan through high-level necromantic magic. Impressed, the Nightmare recruits Deriin to lead his army and commands him to build a squad of evil lieutenants to assist in the oncoming unholy war. The Nightmare’s goal? To ascend to godhood.
Deriin is the correct spelling.
NPCing by Josleen.
Underdark Arena of The Deep
Josleen is not here. Erlan and Molostroi, two hooded elves disguised to look like drow are. Both elves are evil necromancer these days, by Erlan originally trained as an illusionist and it is his illusionary magic that has them convincingly looking like drow. However, they cannot see in infrared and move by faerie light, and they do not speak the drow tongue and thus speak to no one. That’s not a problem down here. No one is chatting. Few have gathered to place bets on the umber hulk v. yuan-ti fight. The necromancers sit apart along the cavern wall watching and waiting. A cluster of drow nearby converse in whispers and it is apparent from the robed duo’s expressions that they understand not a word of it.
Derrin hadn't been down here in quite a while, the robed male taking slow steps towards the edge of the arena walls where he might look down to witness more closely the fight at hand. Slinking along the ground, the sharp grating of heavy metal in the form of large chains reaching several feet into the tunnel yet follow him until from the expanse of darkness come lumbering two rather large wargs taller than even their master and only stopping when shoulder to shoulder at Derrin's side. Each one with eyes scanning the arena with an unusual appearance of keen intellect, deep inhales made on both sides to catch scent of any who might not be welcome there and then offering their master the appropriate trained signals to guide him in the direction of said guests though for now there seemed to be nothing amiss with the group and through amber hues, the sign of the diseased, he watched the fight in peace. Also noted would be on his robe the insignia of the fallen minor house to which he had been leader, a disgraceful existence but one that was left currently untouched by others simply due to the nature of Derin's violent behavior and the legacy that he had; his amount of training and the fact he had no problem with destroying those in his way usually kept others at bay.
Erlan and Molostroi came here for one purpose today: umber hulk parts. They are hard to come by, despite the fact their hair and eyes and bile are often used in some subschools and orders of necromancy, such as The Order of the Shade, that ancient, now-defunct drow necromancer group that was slaughtered over 2,000 years ago by the old Trist’oth matriarchy. The cuffs of their robes are embroidered with The Order’s emblem. They speak to no one throughout the fight, and once it concludes nearly a half hour later with the Yuan-Ti the victor, they approach the arena’s caretaker and slip him a piece of paper written in drow that claims to be from House D’Artes. The note explains that the First House would like to buy the corpse for 3,000 gold. The paper is a forgery, and the wax seal is clearly a poor imitation. What more, House D’Artes laces important missives such as this with a peculiar heat-producing ink that is visible only to the drow’s infrared sights. Thus, the arena master immediately eyes the alleged ‘drow’ pair with suspicion and asks in drow, “Have you any other proof this comes from House D’Artes?” The elves-disguised-as-drow look at each other and blink. Molostroi speaks broken, toddler-level drow and says “Yes.” The arena master asks, “Is that so? And where would this proof be?” Molostroi replies in a heavy accent, “House D’Artes wants this today.” The arena master in one fluid motion draws his sword and holds the tip beneath Molostroi’s ebon chin. “Who are you?” A local group of drow break their conversation to watch the scene unfolding. Only one looks at Derrin and his beasts.
Derrin watches on with distaste from beneath the cover of his hood though it was the commotion to his right that catches his attention after the fight. Laying a hand on the shoulder of Anfauglir to his right the beast backs up just enough to allow the proud ex-house leader a full view; drow threatening other drow, this is the way it has always been but hasn't there been enough with the loss of the forest above and the battles dwindling their numbers. It was sickening and in that second he took a brave step forward followed by more until he was before them with hood having fallen back simply due to the brisk pace he took to get there which revealed nearly perfect features of a battle-worn drow whom has trained his mind to be more powerful than his body. Long white hair cascaded down past his shoulders and he just gave the drow with the weapon a hard stare while Anfauglir had come up behind the two disguised 'drow' in question and gave them a hard sniff. Something seemed off but couldn't quite pin it yet, "Stand down. We don't want a scene do we?" In that moment a spark of green magic flashed from within his right sleeve which overhung his hand, nothing yet but who knows what he was conjuring, just that it stank of rot and dark magic.
The arena master looks Derrin over but misses his house sigil. “Who in Vakmatharas’s crusty balls are you?” Erlan and Molostroi, fish out of water, are edgy and nervous and interpret Anfauglir’s sniff and Derrin’s green magic as a threat. This situation was a powder keg from the start, and anything can set it off. Molostroi speaks a booming phrase and throws up a greenish, translucent sphere of protection around himself and his partner. Erlan holds up an obsidian stone carved with the emblem of the Order of the Shade lit by faerie light. The emblem is one only true students of necromancy would recognize, and thus its significance is lost on the arena master. Erlan speaks in common. “The Order has returned and the Shade Nightmare will usher the dark ages. He needs this corpse. We will take it to Him, and if you oppose us He will slaughter you.” The arena master scoffs, feigns as if he is about to laugh, then swings his sword threateningly against the mage’s sphere of protection. The magical sword and sphere make contact with an electric crack and sizzle. The sphere’s brightness flickers as it weakens slightly. The arena master hacks at it again, determined to break through. These types of spheres always break. It’s a matter of time -- or blows. “Run, or I’ll be trading in your corpses too,” he threatens in a heavily accented drow. Erlan is already beginning to chant an offensive spell…
Derrin certainly didn't appreciate the insult though found it rather interesting when the two first decided to throw up their sphere and announce their presence of an ancient extinct order. Stepping back he ran his hands along the sides of Anfauglir and Fenrir while speaking a quiet incantation which ignited their other forms; Fenrir from paws to crest and mane burst into green flames while his brother Anfauglir ignited into an azure blaze in the same areas. A bark and from Anfauglir's fire-dripping maw was released a gout of sweeping flame that reached outwards, around the bubble that protected the two intruders but anyone else touched even at the foot would be engulfed but not burned even if they crumple to the ground shortly after as lifeless husks; their souls scorched from existence by the flames of the warg whereas the brother Fenrir stayed at Derrin's side as his personal bodyguard should anyone advance from any direction and then have his own body destroying fire unleashed upon them in just the same manner. "This is quite enough! Anyone else want to stand against I! Deriin of House Fueryonii De Aphyon step forward and feel the wrath of the Beasts of Death!"
The sphere crumbles beneath the sustained attack of Anfauglir’s azure flame. Erlan blasts a black and silver electric ball from his palm towards the warg’s fire and the two magics snap and crackle deafeningly on impact. When Derrin announces himself, however, Erlan and Molostroi hesitate in their next move. They know nothing of the drow houses nor its politics, and thus assume that Deriin must be someone high up in the drow hierarchy. “Deriin of House Fuer'yonii d'Aphyon, I greet you,” Erlan says in common. “Surely a man of your importance has heard that the Shade Nightmare was successfully brought forth into this world in Xalious some 6 weeks ago. He will bring about the dark days. Any who oppose Him will be viewed as his enemies. He seeks this umber hulk corpse. Opposing us is opposing Him.”
Derrin watches the blue flames clash with the opposing magic with a vague interest, several corpses lying behind the disguised elves as soulless husks. Deriin wasn't a man of many words, in fact he just stared at Erlan with as much interest that would be shown a pile of dirt that he happened to walk over. "I know what you speak of and if you think you are threatening me I will end you just as quickly as they were. Needless loss of life though.. You have piqued my interest." he took a step forward towards the elves, "I have no use for that corpse, if you think you can transport it who am I to stop you. Though.. I desire power, the greater and darker powers of necromancy and if what you say is true.. I want to meet it."
Erlan and Molostroi look at each other when Deriin explains he wants to meet their dark lord. Still looking like drow, who speak in common and need faerie light to see in the dark (hmmm), Erlan feels a little reckless and a little more emboldened by his disguise The truth is, the Shade Nightmare deemed them ill-suited and too weak for high rank in his army. He sends them instructions to fulfill, and they desperately aim to please him in order to curry his favor. Still, the creature doesn’t seem to fully appreciate them; they’re do grunt work with no glory. What’s worse, he asked for two umber hulk corpses today, not one, but this duo has only been able to secure the one. Erlan says to Deriin, “Showing up empty-handed in pursuit of power will earn you no favor with Him. It’s difficult to get his attention unless you have something he needs. If you like, as a token of our gratitude for your intervention here today, deliver this umber hulk yourself. That may grant you the audience you seek.”
Derrin looked down into the pit of the arena and couldn't fathom how he would successfully transport a corpse of that size as it was doubtful he could have his wargs pull it out without breaking it apart. "You want me to get it to Xalious.. How did you even expect to get it above ground from here?" He could maybe temporarily animate the creature and force it to drag itself at least out of the pit but something of that size would take him a considerable amount of energy to work with. "I can try."
Erlan and Molostroi try on their best poker faces, but their glee cannot be trained out of their red glowing eyes. This has been an extremely fortuitous turn of events for them. Erlan, the leader apparent, speaks first again. “You only need to get it as far as the Portal of Darkness that separates Vailkrin from central Lithrydel. In the dark forest, that is.” Molostroi adds, “Reanimating the corpse is a good idea. Are you also a necromancer?”
Derrin sighed, moving towards the edge of the arena and pulling out a book from beneath the folds of his robe, leather bound and emblazoned with the mark of Vakmatharas. Flipping till he was a good chunk in he began his incantation which after a period of time left his hand giving of a furious sickly green light. "I need a sacrifice. My god doesn't appreciate when others are brought back, but I always offer a life, for a life." and with a bark Fenrir was quick to fetch another drow which would be the base of his ritual. A wavy-bladed dagger, a flash of his arm swinging out and a pool of spilled blood later he bathed his glowing hand in the crimson ichor before releasing the magic in the form of several threads that undulated in the air as they made their way to the umberhulk's corpse. So long as the threads remained connected to the drow would the spell remain active, a temporary resurrection. The body began to convulse but when it had been filled with the unholy magic it stilled just before managing to get back to its feet. "Show me where to take it, and we shall go where you desire it. Trick me, and you will be the next victims of my pets' flames."
Erlan bows shallowly to Deriin in the manner of an elf, as opposed to the deep bow of the drow. “This way then.” He smirks smugly at the gathered who cannot believe what just happened. Before Deriin stepped in, Erlan and Molostroi were as sure as dead. The duo lead the way through the dangerous underdark. They travel slowly and often have to stop and reassess their route because the dangers that lurk ahead in the dead caves are too great. Of course, if Deriin or his pets remove obstacles, all the power to them. The necromancers are not as powerful and tend to be more cautious. Once they emerge from the Dead Caves into the Trist’oth City Cavern, they cross the city on Revenant path, turn right at the Trist’oth Arena, then left into a tunnel which ascends and opens on the surface just east of Vailkrin. In short, they crossed the entire Kelay-Sage area under gound (and circumventing the duergar and shadow gnome settlements). When they emerge in the Dark Forest it is night time, though in that forest there is hardly much difference between the day and night. They continue southwest until they reach the portal of darkness. “Our Master has clairvoyance of all portals. That is, he can see anything that passes through any portal. Walk the umberhulk through it and he shall see it and appear.
Portal of Darkness
Derrin had followed every step of the way, suspicious of the two and actually having the idea of killing them though was not fully convinced yet to do it. Through the caves' paths he brought the target body of the umberhulk on its leash of dark magic while his right hand held the chains that led to the collars of his pets. Luckily for their coterie any dangers that presented themselves were quick to retreat simply because of the company kept in the form of three beasts, two engulfed with flames. Upon reaching the portal Deriin studied it for a moment before confidently stepping through with the umberhulk in tow and waited patiently for this supposed dark creature to reveal itself. "Show yourself creature!."
Erlan and Molostroi look nervous as they wait for the Shade Nightmare to appear. There is a delay of minutes between when Deriin demands the creature show itself, and when it finally does. It ,agically pushes Deriin and the umberhulk back into the Dark Forest on the Vailkrin side of the veil. It follows behind them standing twenty feet tall on thin boney legs. The entire creature is black save for the pale gray spine that protrudes through its molten black flesh like a ribbed hook. Its insectoid-shaped head with its lipless human mouth and bald head turns to face Deriin. There are wide ocular holes where its eyes should be. Its flesh is covered thickly in black ooze. The head alone is the size of a cow. A slender proboscis unfurls from its toothless mouth and smells the air around Deriin. His breath plumes behind the moist tendril. It smells like rot. It’s tubular tongue makes a sucking noise. One of its inky, clawed hands start to paw at the umberhulk. It cries out in a bat-like shriek. Deriin, Erlan, and Molostroi hear its will in their heads. It isn’t speech at all, but an understanding. They simply know its wants when it wants them to know. Right now he wants to know where the second umberhulk is and who this drow is.
Derrin did not like being pushed around and gazed upon the creature with the same lack of interest that he gave most people and creatures. A flick of his wrist and the binds that kept the corpse animated was relinquished sending the beast back into its lifeless state while he turned towards the two 'drow' with greater scrutiny. His eyes held but when this unheard request was made he was quick to answer, not because he felt obligated but because as a prior house head he had some degree of hospitality, "Deriin, of house Fuer'yonii d'Aphyon. A fallen Minor house of the Underdark. Necromancer, and beastmaster." As noted by the two wargs that moved up to be at their master's side and gazing upwards at the shade which happened to be for all three of them an unexpected sight. "You are some great lord that is to bring about darker days so I have heard."
The Shade Nightmare climbs atop over the umberhulk’s corpse and flattens its oily stomach on the dead beast’s body. Slowly it starts yo absorb the creature into its body, a foot at a time, the entire body starting, stopping, and shuddering like a snake swallowing a rabbit. The body bends unnaturally and grows and shrinks to accommodate the umberhulk before digesting it by some supernatural means. As it shudders over the corpse in a way that can only be describe as darkly primal, its will makes itself known again. “A necromancer. What power have you. Show me. The best of it.” It is a creature of raw power, not pride. It never boasts, because from the plane where it comes from boasting simply isn’t a thing.
Derrin was not in the habit of succumbing to the requests of others regardless of what they were but stifling his distaste in the whole situation he would abide by the monstrosity's requests for now. Procuring his dagger from his belt once more and layering it with a necrotic enchantment it took only the swing of his arm to send it sailing towards one of the elves and should it find itself piercing flesh that spell on the blade would sink in and begin rotting the body while with a jut of his chin towards the other Anfauglir took action to leap out with azure flame-engulfed claws. A single blow aimed for the chest would rend cloth and flesh with ease and the flames would burn into the wound but like before scorch the soul, though this attack was not an engulfing one and would simply weaken the user's life force greatly and not destroy the soul entirely, but the first victim should he fall prey to the spell would be whisked from the physical plane and left as a pile of parts which would continue to rapidly deteriorate until nothing was left but rotted flesh and bones. Only after would he be able to create something new.
The creature does not intervene when Deriin attacks his weak servants. The dagger finds its mark in Erlan’s chest. The illusionist is powerless to stop the rot from spreading through his flesh like a rippling pond. He dies quickly, and with his death the illusions are dispelled and the ‘drow’ are revealed to be elves. As for Molostroi, he managed to get a protective sphere up again just when Deriin released the dagger. It slows the attack but won’t last long. He casts offensively now, shooting a mucus-like glob at Anfauglir. If the glob lands, the warg may likely become very sick very quickly as he suffers various acute, infectious diseases at once. The Shade Nightmare wills for both Deriin and Molostroi to stop fighting. Molostroi backs off and looks to Deriin to do the same. The umberhulk has been completely consumed by now.
Derrin was not going to listen to the creature this time, he had sworn no allegiance and had every desire now to destroy the elves "Filth!" he roared, Fenrir jumping into action and with his flesh dissolving flames went to his brother's side to continue the assault when Anfauglir backed off feeling rather tired after getting struck by that blob. The infections may or may not hold on him for long due to the nature of his powers but all the same for now he was out of the fight and would not suffer punishment from his master for having taken a hit. The dagger in the one elf's chest would have had a secondary enchantment inlaid within the first spell and while the body had rotted the heart had never ceased to beat. Stalking over to it he rifled in the pile of steaming slime and parts to grasp the fragile organ and begin his incantation. Green flames with black veins engulfed the heart but did not burn it while also dripping from his hand to also consume the remains of the pile before him until they too began to move, reassembling; as the corpse pulled itself back together whatever was missing was replaced with a mixture of soil and black magic creating an undead soldier with fire for eyes and to finish it the heart was plunged back into the chest and would serve as a battery to keep the creature animated. It was a simple creation, nothing like his rot elemental whom had called upon the pain and necrotic magic suffered by the boy to turn him into the grotesque monstrosity that was not present with the necromancer at this time.
Molostroi runs to put himself distance between himself and the wargs, as a mage is most useful at a distance. As he runs he whispers a spell and in passing brushes a hand on a thick, old oak tree, the weakest point a ring around the trunk extending from Molostroi’s palm. The tree instantly dies and falls to either crash down on Fenrir’s head, or at least block his path. Either way, the tree takes a swipe from Fenrir’s claws instead of Molostroi. The necromancer then summons two skeleton from the ground, a bear and an elk, to fight Fenrir and take some of the focus off of him. As for the Shade Nightmare, without much anger or alarm, but with the speed and grace of a beetle it scuttles over to the reanimated corpse and simply absorbs it into his body like he had done with the umberhulk. It’s massive claw aims to backhand Deriin’s body and send him flying. The creature says in Deriin’s mind, “Stop.” It will attempt over and over to smack Deriin and command him to stop until it is obeyed. “I need the elf slave.” It explains only once.
Fenrir gave chase to Molostroi but was not a foolish warg, having been hand trained much like a drow was from youth under Deriin's hand. As the tree fell he halted and lept backwards, even backed away at the conjuring of the skeletons after his blow had ripped into the bark and core of the tree. Anfauglir was alert noticing the shade was going to lash out before Deriin did and knowing the frailty of his master's body mustered in a state of urgency the strength to leap forward and take the blow for Deriin after knocking the beastmaster aside. Deriin although surprised and angry was grateful for the training he had given his pets after noticing what had happened. "Fine! Keep your filthy pet." he spat on the ground after taking only one of the slaps, "I killed one anyways, but I will not be deceived again." said with spite and a deadly gaze thrown towards the one that remained alive while with a shout Fenrir managed a retreat back to his master's side. "I have shown you some of what I can do."
The Shade Nightmare stops his advance once Deriin gives in. There is no smugness nor pride in this victory, in the same way the bird takes no joy in flight because flight comes natural and is expected. Again the creature communicates through feelings and impressions, and now a new method: mental images. Still, no words. Derriin feels that the creature is pleased with the drow’s skill. The the creature wants to recruit the drow to lead the army of undead. Deriin will see in his mind’s eye inky-black undead humanoids and beasts, like the umberhulk, swarming over the planet and leaving behind blood and anguish. The creature grows stronger as the pain and suffering of the planet goes stronger. Its goal is deification. If it can inflict enough hate and evil and malice on the planet, that energy will feed his soul and perhaps one day he too can be a god. Every god needs a clergy. Deriin is in line for the evil theological throne if he chooses his next moves wisely. The final feeling is a command for Deriin to go forth and amass a small group of powerful necromancers who will serve as lieutenants in this army. Does he accept? The war is coming. Deriin can be on the winners team, or the losers.
Derrin first as he suffers the invasion of the shade upon his mind makes sure that his pets are indeed okay but after they are both at his side relatively unharmed by nature of comparing how much worse it could be he does look up at the creature and weighs his options. It didn't promise him power in the slightest, not the kind that he desired, but power over others and that could be just as useful so in the meantime he would accept first with a nod and then a deep bow. "I will take on your task as you requested, and search out other necromancers for the cause." With that he would offer one more disgusted glare towards the elf then depart on his way, to who knows where.