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At the Cynosure Ball
The thronged crowd pushed back for the carriage as it came to a halt in front of the grand marble staircase of the Cynosure. A footman rushed to open the door and to give me a hand as I came out. The sun was setting and the sky was still light, however the huge torches set on both sides of every street corner were already ignited and waiting for nightfall when they would lend a celebratory air complimenting the festivities for all the revelers. Lliira’s Night was finally upon us! I started going up the endless stairway feeling the excitement stir in my chest as it always did when I had the occasion to come to this ball. Dozens of guards created a broad, elliptical pathway up the stairs, all decked in full plate and tirelessly holding their ceremonial greatswords at a steep inclination off the ground, pointing towards the city as though to protect the guests inside. I looked at their identical figures, masked behind their full helmets and smiled as I gathered my long skirts gently
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Harpers' Pawn
The market buzzed around me. Virgin’s Square was teeming with people, some trying to cut line to get the best fruit before it was sold, others busy shouting, hawking their wares, yet others inspecting the hopeful mercenaries that were lined up like bored pieces of meat. Still more had come for they had nothing better to do than to people-watch, adding to the throng. I hurried past – I hate markets and their crowds - growing up in the forest and then spending a great deal of time in quiet libraries will do that to your nerves, they become sensitive to too many stimuli and leave you easily overwhelmed. I quickly entered Meiroth’s Fine Silks, hearing the little bell chime above me and closed the door, feeling bliss at the quiet inside. “Master Meiroth” I called. “A fine establishment and you know I will continue my patronage, but by the Gods and all that’s holy, whatever prompted you to open shop across the square?” Meiroth the
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A new Femdom story (NSFW) that is too short to post a snippet of here on DA. Find it here instead: archiveofourown.org/works/1468…
The thronged crowd pushed back for the carriage as it came to a halt in front of the grand marble staircase of the Cynosure. A footman rushed to open the door and to give me a hand as I came out. The sun was setting and the sky was still light, however the huge torches set on both sides of every street corner were already ignited and waiting for nightfall when they would lend a celebratory air complimenting the festivities for all the revelers. Lliira’s Night was finally upon us! I started going up the endless stairway feeling the excitement stir in my chest as it always did when I had the occasion to come to this ball. Dozens of guards created a broad, elliptical pathway up the stairs, all decked in full plate and tirelessly holding their ceremonial greatswords at a steep inclination off the ground, pointing towards the city as though to protect the guests inside. I looked at their identical figures, masked behind their full helmets and smiled as I gathered my long skirts gently as I skipped my way rapidly up the steps. I wore my new dress, an orgy of black gauzy layers as thin as anything I had ever touched in my hand. Gold foil was applied in haphazard patches on the lower half of the outer layers, flecking the black fabric with big blotches that looked as though someone had dipped a brush into pure molten gold and then touched it on the spiderweave of the dress. The top part of the dress was pure black, a tight bodice up front with a scandalously exposed back all the way down to the lowest part of my waist. In lieu of sleeves, I had commissioned epaulets from the smithy, beautiful interlocking brass scales that looked like dragon scale armor to cover my shoulders. The brass was shined till it glimmered like gold, and the twin pieces were kept in place with a black string that touched the base of my neck and balanced them on my shoulders, the weight of the metal otherwise keeping them naturally in place. My hair, normally worn loose, was tied in a high ponytail that was kept unnaturally high by multiple layers of the black fabric my dress was made of at its base. The upper half of my face was covered by a gold-colored mask with a thin beak that was so long it ended into a needlepoint a full palm’s length away from my face, like a crazed hummingbird. My right ear was graced by Sil’il’s hoop in the middle and a small diamond stud on the lobe, while from my left ear hung the finished dragon’s eye piece with Phegeth’s tear.

I stopped at the middle of the stairway, where there was a large landing before the second part of the steps started and I turned around to give a short wave to the crowd watching, as was customarily expected of every guest. Throngs gathered each year to take a look at the costumes the city’s nobles, administrators and their guests would be wearing and each guest was expected to oblige. As I smiled and waved self-assuredly in my disguise, my eye caught the most unexpected couple coming up the lower steps, arms interlocked. Dark skinned guests at the Cynosure – who would have thought this day would come? Certainly not I. I guessed the Open Lord had invited the High Priestess and Sil’il in acknowledgement of the part they had played in stopping an all-out war in our region – Waterdeep held good diplomatic relations with the elves of the High Forest after all – but it still was a bit shocking to realize he knew I was also attending and had not seen it fit to mention that they were invited as well. The cultural gap seemed to keep impeding our communication and I briefly wondered whether we would ever be able to truly understand one another, whether there was even a point in trying. They looked beautiful in their matching outfits – she as white swan and he as black swan. The High Priestess had deep blue skin and white hair, and she was wearing her ceremonial white organza robes reserved for rare rituals. The organza was so thin and the layers so few, it was almost indecently see-through. I knew that drow did not care about nakedness – or even engaging in sexual acts in front of others, but I was certain she knew our customs were different and was surprised with her daring. I laughed a bit inwardly, imagining some of the older nobles that were known to be the bane of young debutantes at such parties choking on their drinks the moment they laid eyes on her. She was not young, in fact she was exceptionally old for a drow, but she looked as fresh as a daisy and her body was delightful. Her white hair was gathered up in a bun and a flurry of white swan feathers covered both of her ears completely. A white mask graced the top part of her face, leaving only red, wise eyes visible. Sil’il was wearing black velvet leggings with a row of extravagant gold buttons on the crotch, low, pointed black booties and a similarly thin but black organza tunic on top. Swathes of black swan feathers furled over his ears, while his hair was gathered in a low ponytail at the base of his neck and tied with a black silk ribbon I could barely make out. Only the two thin braids behind his ears were left loose and hanging over his chest. His mask was black, edged with gold all around, as well as gold rimming around the eyes. They made a fascinating entrance together and I wanted to linger to see what the crowd’s response to the magnificently beautiful – but still dark-skinned guests would be, but fear clenched my heart at the possibility of roars of disapproval and I found myself running up the second part of the staircase. I looked behind my shoulder once before stepping into the entrance hall and caught a glimpse of Sil’il looking at my naked back thunderstruck. I quickly turned around and flew into the room, ignoring the welcome sounds of the guards positioned next to the large, open double doorway.

Big, strong arms steadied me. “Hey, hey, what is the rush? We came here to enjoy ourselves. I have been waiting for you.”

I looked up and I saw Marcus smiling, then my anxiety disappeared as I took stock of his appearance: He was dressed as a circus tightrope walker in an all-black ensemble to match my own. Two little golden horns protruded from his thick curls and instead of a mask there was a thick black line painted across his eyes and halfway down his nose, making his hazel eyes stand out and sparkle.

“Really?” I asked, clearly referring to his attire. “Are you here advertising?”

“It cannot hurt! Perhaps we will get more funding… Perhaps a few more commissions! What is certain is that it will… naturally guide the conversation to our organization and I will get the chance to talk about our cause…”

I shook my head ruefully. “And here I thought you would dutifully play your role as my dance partner.”

“Ah, no you didn’t! You always seem to flutter from arm to arm during these things.”

“Mmm. Maybe not tonight.”

“Eh? …Oh, I see.”

“They are behind us, aren’t they?”

“Yep. Just entered. Shall I gracefully lead you towards the other end of the room and get ourselves a drink?”

“Yes please” I said, placing a hand on his proffered arm.

“So, what is going on there?”

I took a sip from my drink – a gorgeously fizzy white wine from the south, filled with crushed summer fruit – and shrugged. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Marcus rolled his eyes with annoyance. “Why thank you. I am only being interested… concerned even.”

I placed a hand on his: “Sorry, that did not come out right – that’s not the way I meant it at all. It is just… I have learned things about them – their kind, I mean –  during my two-month training… education… whatever you want to call it. Absurd things… Things I never would have imagined went on between people… I don’t think I can give you an abbreviated explanation nor do I think this is the right occasion for a long, drawn out introduction into…” I lowered my voice “…drow culture and practices.”

He raised his hand to squeeze the bridge of his nose, an automatic gesture he always performed when he was exhausted, exasperated or verbally bested. I had no idea which of the three he was experiencing at that very moment but still slapped his hand away before he could reach his nose. “You are going to smudge your face paint.”

“At least tell me this” he said, sighing: “are you… together… or is this one of your dalliances?”

“The former.”

“And it is… complicated?”

“Mmm.”

He let out a hearty laughter: “But this is great news!”

“How can you possibly say that?!”

“My dear friend, you realize I know you for… what? Thirteen? Fourteen years now? Do you know how many times I have heard you freely admit any seriousness of… uh… association? Twice. And both times were rather… Short-lived if memory serves. So this is good news. I’ll drink to your good cheer and wish you that whatever is complicated quickly uncomplicates itself! Come, come, let’s dance! We are only young once. Or for centuries in your case.” I burst out laughing and followed his lead on the dance floor after hastily downing the remainder of my drink.

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Snapshot of my PWP oneshot on AO3. Content on AO3 _very_ explicit (DVP plot) so click at the link in the comments for the full story at your own peril/pleasure.

When they turned sixteen, things became a little hotter, unexpectedly, awkwardly and in a way that made her grin still, because it was their little secret up till now. They were at George’s house as usual, playing video games. “Hey Danni, watch this!” said Alex as he pressed buttons furiously, showing off the K.O. he had performed on the console game he was playing with Lucas. “Fuck you, Alex.” Said Lucas, throwing his controller to the floor. “Oh, come on dude, you’re gonna break it!” George flew up from the couch, picking up the controller to see if it still worked. “It still works dude, just chill.” “Yeah, yeah, you always do that though. Just let the fucker show off to the girl, what’s the harm?” Lucas looked embarrassed and she felt a wave of irrational joy rise in her chest. “Anyway, guys, it’s getting really late. I gotta go home or I’ll hear it from my parents again.” She said and got up to bring the plates and glasses to the kitchen so that George’s mom wouldn’t find the house a pigsty when she came home. She’d turned on the tap and carefully rinsed everything before she loaded it in the washing machine, then washed her hands and made for the living room.

The sounds stopped her in her tracks. She’d not heard them before as the noise from the running water had evidently blocked them, but now she could clearly hear them: Moans. Porn. They were watching porn. She laughed and went to join them, to have a look at what they were watching, but as she entered the living room she froze. They all had their cocks out and were pumping madly, jerking off to the images on the tv. Her cunt throbbed. This… This was not normal, was it? Yes, they’d howled with laughter often at stories about how they masturbated, she had participated in those stories unabashedly – they were her best friends after all – but surely it wasn’t normal to do it all together. This was… surely forbidden, immoral, not something normal people did? She was sure of it, masturbation was private. And yet here they were, transfixed by what they watched and so helpless by what their dicks needed that they couldn’t stop even when they caught sight of her and managed to look guilty. “What are you watching?” She laughed, trying to make light of the situation as she plopped herself on the couch next to George. They did not answer. God. The only sounds in the room were the moans of the porn-star and the wild pumping of their dicks, wet, clicking sounds. She felt overwhelmed, wet, horny. FUCK. She took off her booties and socks, unbuttoned her jeans and wiggled out of them, still sitting on the couch, kicking them away as they reached her ankles. Her middle finger reached to her clit, circling familiarly, just how she liked it. First softly, then slowly raising the intensity as her clit became bigger, harder, unsheathed from its hood. When she opened her eyes again, Danni saw that the guys were looking at her now instead of at the screen, and she looked back shamelessly, at her boyfriend’s white cock, its pink tip, at Alex’ swarthier, bigger one, matching his bronzed skin and taller frame. George’s was in her peripheral vision, still loudly pumping next to her. She looked, they looked… she kept going, and going, and going, her knees close to her breasts, her feet in the air, her hand between her legs, rubbing, rubbing as she watched their cocks quiver in the air. Spurt, spurt, spurt, one after the other, as her hole winked at them from between her open legs, getting more and more open in preparation to be filled – though it wouldn’t, they were all virgins. Spurt, spurt, spurt, till there was no more load in those balls, though they kept pumping as if their life depended on it as they watched her convulse and writhe on the couch, throwing her head back as her own orgasm hit her, blinding her eyes, making her shut them tight, her blood ringing in her ears, buzzing, deafening her. She loved them, they loved her, she could feel it in her belly.

“…nni? Danni?” she realised Lucas was calling out to her from the couch across from her when the ringing and buzzing in her ears finally subsided. Her chest was still heaving, she was still panting. “Yeah?” she asked breathlessly. “Can I taste it?” “Uh-huh.” Lucas came over and kneeled in front of her, smelling her first and then taking an experimental lick before digging his face into her cunt. “Aah-ah! Softer! It’s too much…” she complained, and as he eased up a little bit she caught sight of Alex, a darkness in his hazel eyes, his cock starting to fill with blood again. She swallowed hard. “As I said… I should go, it’s getting late.” She pushed Lucas away, though he seemed utterly unwilling, and quickly got dressed. He chased her to the door and gave her a kiss on the lips that tasted salty and smelled of her.

The market buzzed around me. Virgin’s Square was teeming with people, some trying to cut line to get the best fruit before it was sold, others busy shouting, hawking their wares, yet others inspecting the hopeful mercenaries that were lined up like bored pieces of meat. Still more had come for they had nothing better to do than to people-watch, adding to the throng. I hurried past – I hate markets and their crowds - growing up in the forest and then spending a great deal of time in quiet libraries will do that to your nerves, they become sensitive to too many stimuli and leave you easily overwhelmed. I quickly entered Meiroth’s Fine Silks, hearing the little bell chime above me and closed the door, feeling bliss at the quiet inside. “Master Meiroth” I called. “A fine establishment and you know I will continue my patronage, but by the Gods and all that’s holy, whatever prompted you to open shop across the square?” Meiroth the Fourth appeared from behind a counter where he was squatting on the floor putting away a bolt of silk. His face was red and stout, and his little round glasses were slipping down his small pudgy nose. He sighed and lifted an eyebrow. “What can I do for our lovely Miss d’Argenti? Surely not go over the same conversation again? This is where we have always been! My father, and his father and one day my only son. Are you preparing for the ball?” “Oh no, that’s months away. I’m afraid I only came in for a small order today… I want to have a sash made for my new mage robes. Here, have a look.” I carefully opened the thin paper in which my beautiful new silk robes were folded in. “Hmm… A fiery red with a wide eggshell-blue border. I can recommend silver with silver-thread embroidery for a tasteful contrast, otherwise the same eggshell blue in plain silk if you would like to keep it simple… Or perhaps a gold brocade with twisted tassels if you would rather go extravagant, mm?” Despite his portly appearance his movements were nimble and he had already expertly produced all three bolts of fabric he’d recommended. “I will go with the silk eggshell blue then, thank you.” “I have your measurements here…mmm yes…” he said, as he rifled through his carefully handwritten customer book. “I will cut you a suitable piece.”



With my shopping in hand I turned around and headed in the direction of the City of the Dead, close to which the tailor, Patient Fingers, Fine Work was established. It was a lovely spring Ches* day and we had been spared much rain this year. The sun felt lovely on my skin and I was walking the streets with a smile on my face, lost in useless thought about my robe, its sash and how soon it would be ready. Tomorrow perhaps? Perhaps, if Missus Dinanne did not have much work. A sash would be short work for her hands of wonder. Such thoughts I was thinking when a fresh-faced, freckly human girl with bright red curls spilling from under her hood stepped in front of me, blocking my way. I glared at her when she offered no apology and tried to pass. Again, she stepped in front of me. “Move, girl.” I said coldly. She lifted her gauzy grey scarf to reveal a round brooch with a harp next to a silver moon, surrounded by four stars. I groaned audibly. “Those who harp will have your company” she said quietly. “That ship has sailed.” I responded and tried to pass again. Once more she blocked my way. I was severely tempted to blast her into smithereens in the middle of the street. “You are testing my patience. You will move out of my way right now.” “I think not. We will have your company today. Why so testy? You used to crave a place among our ranks if all the rumors are true.” “That was a long time ago. Before I knew that your ideological doctrine on balance was just talk. You serve one side only, tipping the balance dangerously and precariously. Our world suffers and you are too blind to see! And why have they sent you to fetch me? So green, so wet behind the ears. It is an affront, really.” She smiled calmly, not taking my bait. “You have thwarted one of our missions and killed several of our ranks in the process. You will come or there will be repercussions.” Who had I killed? I had no idea what she was talking about. “You do know I could take out your entire building in the space of an hour, yes?” “And then what? Our cells are active across the land. Where will you go? How long will you run? Or will you serve the balance by exterminating us all?” I sighed. She was right of course, not to mention that the Waterdhavian Lords had particularly good relations with the Harper cell in our city. Normally shadowy, secretive and independent, our local cell had entrenched itself deeply within city politics. “When?” “You may finish your business and then come to our door. Your personal password is…” and she leaned close to my ear to whisper. I burst out laughing in spite of myself. Then I managed to put on a grave expression and replied: “That’s offensive.” “But true!” she said with a smile and a wink. “See you soon then!” and off she went, annoyingly perky and self-satisfied.



I made my way to the Harpers’ Hall the moment I was done at the tailor’s. The sooner this was over with, the better, I reasoned. “Password?” asked the bored guard outside the gate. “You know who I am, just let me in.” I responded, in no mood to repeat the ridiculous password. He winked and nodded. “They are expecting you, come right through.” I was led to a large meeting room where I experienced the first trace of fear and shock when I realized that next to the local leader, Eldrin Vale, was seated High Harper Iillura Calandriel. “Ah, Divina, please do come in.” said Eldrin with a smile. I sat down across from them, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. What exactly was going on here? “We have a little favor to ask you. We would like you to lead one of our missions.” “And why would I do that?” “We will then forget the debt you owe us” he said, waving a hand absently in the air. “What debt are you referring to, exactly?” Iillura rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “Don’t pretend you do not know. You killed an entire party of expert dragonslayers. They were ours!” The pieces finally clicked into place. I got up indignantly, my legs noisily pushing my chair away on the wooden parquet floor. “Those men were yours? I would do it again! Gladly!”



It had been about a month and a half ago when I found out a party of six had slain a Red up in the Sword Mountains, taking her away from her mate. While it is true that Reds are the most evil, ferocious, rapacious and prideful of the chromatic dragons, like all dragonkind their numbers over the last centuries were dwindling with alarming rates. The act had enraged me – this pair may well have been one of the few if not only of their kind remaining in our area. Before the party decided to descend upon the male as well, I decided to take action. I utilized my network of Funambulists* to find their identities and locations and killed them one by one over a period of two days. Once I was done, I teleported to the Sword Mountains around the area where I had heard the deed took place and hiked for the better part of a day until I found his lair. I walked in carefully and saw the beast in his grand hall. With one hand behind my back I started quickly gesturing spells to lower his resistance just in case, spells that I had taken great pains to memorize without a verbal component, meaning that I had much fewer spells at my disposal that day. I certainly had the feeling I was walking a tightrope. “Since when does food just walk in through the proverbial door, human?” he rumbled lazily. I breathed a sigh of relief. Had he not been fed or was he feeling particularly irate he would have already swooped down from his perch.



“I am not human” I said. “Just a half-elf.” “Ah, my two favorites combined. How lucky for me then.” Still he didn’t move from his perch. Having silently cast my spells, I freed up my hand to open a sack I had been carrying with me. “Please, most beautiful of the mountain range, do hear me out and forgive my impertinence for walking into your magnificent lair.” He immediately started looking slightly perkier and flew down to have a better look at me. He towered over me, but I was quite familiar with the temperament of the Reds and knew they found flattery irresistible: He would listen at least for a while longer. A spell trigger with teleportation was set to fire at any sign of trouble. “I have come bearing gifts for your greatness.” “Oh? And what might you have that would interest me?” My eyes glimmered with mischief, trying to make this irresistible for him. “Trophies. Trophies from your enemies, I gathered just for you.” I opened the bag and brought out the Dragonslayer - an awful double-axe, the Shield of Falling Stars, the Cloak of the White Magus, the Club of Nature’s Wrath, the Golden Ring of Displacement and the Gauntlets of the Dexterous Knight. “Six in total, do you see, my beautiful red king of fire?” I was laying it on thick with the flattery, but it was going down a treat. He was completely pacified. “Please accept my gift and add them to your hoard. I have vanquished your enemies to avenge your fallen mate and to please you.” The enormous lizard eyes flashed with greed and then narrowed with suspicion. “And what do you wish in return, human girl?” “As I said, I am a half-elf.” He shook his head with disinterest. “Mmm what would I like… Why don’t you show me your human form so that I may look at you in the eyes and then we can better discuss?” Trickery 101: Gain one easy acquiescence first, then when you make your second, bigger request it becomes ten times more likely that you get a yes once again.



Red dust fell around me, glittering like a magic spell. When it settled, I saw a youth at the precipice of manhood lying on his belly on the floor. In human terms, he looked to be eighteen years old. I felt my hair raise at the cruelty. This dragon was young. Very young. He might have to spend the next thousand years alone if people like the ones that took his mate did not leave him alone. His torso was naked and on his legs he wore snakeskin leggings of blood-red tinged with black. His tousled hair reached his shoulders in uneven points, black as the night. Two horns started from the middle of his head and curled backwards, while in place of ears he had pointed red fins. His skin was pure white and his eyes yellow with slitted pupils. “So beautiful…” I whispered and he smiled, rolling slightly on his belly and making his feet which were in the air wiggle provocatively. “Aren’t I just, though?” I looked down to hide a smile. I switched to draconic: “How old are you, my beautiful red king of fire? You seem young to these eyes.” He stopped moving his feet and tilted his head to the side curiously. “Did you cast a tongues spell without me noticing, mageling?” I shook my head. “I speak draconic.” “How is that possible?” he hissed. “You will permit your humble friend her little secret? What is a woman without mystique after all, oh great one?” He huffed and a tiny cloud of sulfur escaped his nostrils. “Fine. I am a hundred years old. How about you? Or is that part of your female mystique as well?” “Mmm, normally I might say yes, but for you I will make an exception. I am only a hundred and fifty young this year.” I could tell from the lack of reaction on his part that the number in combination with my race was meaningless to him. “Now give me those things. They will do nicely for the ignominy I suffered. Do not think that I enjoy the fact that you stole my kills. Still, it befits one such as me to use a lackey rather than to have to round all these mice up myself.” “But of course, happy to serve you.” I said, inwardly rolling my eyes. I needed to find a way to close this conversation. “And now to your original question, what I would like in exchange.” He quickly rolled up and sat cross-legged on the floor looking mildly furious. “YES?” he bellowed, a surprisingly deep voice suddenly escaping his supple, ephebic form. “I only wish that you relocate to a more remote area, away from the city. Please do understand that I would hate to see those impudent adventurers continue to attempt raids upon your domain. That would be senseless for one as wise as you! You must move your valuable treasure to a place where greedy human and elven hands will find no temptation and where they do not perceive your magnificent threat upon their lives.” I was by now thoroughly disgusted with myself and my speech, but this marvelous creature really had to move away before our world had none of his kind left. “Please heed my words and fly away, find another mate, live away from humanity, I beg of you.” I laid the sack with the adventurers’ trophies at his feet and crouched close to him. He smelled of sulfur and brimstone and radiated heat. “I will do so half-elf. But not because of your counsel. Only because I tire of these surroundings and long for new adventure.” “But of course.” “Your name?” “I am Divina, and you?” “Phlegeth.” “Well Phlegeth, thank you for showing yourself to me and for listening to my boring tale.” “Yes. I tire of this conversation. Perhaps we shall speak another time.” He looked cross, biting his lip rather petulantly and in that moment I knew that he was lonely, something he would stubbornly never admit, not even to himself. I really hoped he would keep his promise but I had done all I could. I spoke a few words tracing a circle on the floor and teleported away, back to Waterdeep.



Iillura gave me a penetrating glare, like shooting daggers. “You persist in helping these disgusting creatures! We have been watching you. And now you have taken down our men. Good men that had received years of training in order to efficiently slay these wyrms without suffering death at their claws! Our investment has been utterly ruined by your outlandish morals!” “Outlandish? Wishing for balance in the world is outlandish? Was it not this very ideal upon which the foundations of your organization was built?” She waved my arguments away with a gesture that spoke her distaste loud and clear. “Do not question us, outsider.” “Very well. Then if this little lecture is over then I presume I am free to leave?” I was seething. “No, of course you may not! You owe us a debt, have you not heard a word we said? Our investment was ruined. We have sat on our hands for the last couple of months waiting for just the right toll to appear. And now it has. Sit back down and listen, for you will repay us by fulfilling a mission. And do not think this will be something you can magically resolve by tomorrow. No. Training will be necessary. Prepare yourself to feel right at home here in our Waterdhavian Headquarters for the next two months.”



I was speechless. I sat back down on my chair as if someone had dropped a heavy sack of potatoes on my lap. “Two months? I have a house just on the other side of the Sea Ward wall you know. I can simply come every day. What is it that you wish of me anyway?” She raised a hand with an annoyed look as though to put an end to my questions. “You will need complete immersion for this mission. Bring whatever clothes you may need tonight and make yourself comfortable. As for the details, Eldrin will fill you in.” Eldrin cleared his throat. “Yes, well… I am sure once you hear our story you will see sense and gain a more positive attitude, Divina. I am sure you are aware that small-scale raids from the Underdark have been plaguing elven, and sometimes even human settlements close to the entrances to the Underdark for centuries. This is nothing new. We have, however, recently uncovered a plot to reclaim the High Forest, obliterating all elven communities within. This… this would lead to war, you do understand, don’t you?” I blanched. “How did you come across this information?” “Our sponsoring of the Eilistraeean community of the Waterdhavian Promenade has proven most fruitful. Truly a win-win situation for all parties involved. Don’t forget, it was our coffers and political influence in the city that enabled them to erect the surface shrine above the Promenade. Due to us, they are slowly but surely becoming a part of city life, no longer confined to the shadows.” “Can we please get to the point? I know all this.” “Well isn’t it obvious then? They have portals all over the Underdark to assist refugees and to find new recruits to their cause. They have been functioning as our eyes and ears – one would say it is the first time in history we have eyes in the midst of the dark ones. Not long ago they found out that the Matron Mother of the First House of Menzoberranzan has been plotting with her daughter to get the rest of the eight noble houses and their resources behind them in order to launch an all-scale attack on High Forest. It was your home, surely you feel as keenly about this as we do?” I remained silent, keeping my face blank. “Surely you care what happens to them?” he persisted. “If not about them, surely you care about the possibility of war?” I cared about them well enough. Not that they had given me much reason to. I sighed and looked at the ceiling trying to make the pressure in my eyes subside. The last thing I wanted was to cry in front of these people. When I was certain that no tear was about to be shed I blinked a few times and looked back at Eldrin. “What is the best course of action against this plot according to you, Eldrin?” He looked visibly relieved as he answered: “The Matron Mother of House Baenre and her daughter have to be assassinated. This is the only way to stop their plans in their tracks, before they garner enough support from the other noble houses. Moreover, with the First House leadership gone, drow will do what they do best: Vie for supremacy and resume their ceaseless infighting. Most importantly, their assassination will send a powerful message to all those already cognizant of the plot: The surface watches and any such action will be met with a swift death.”



“I see – and I see no fault with your syllogism. But what do you need me for? Clearly, it is an assassin that you need, not a mage”, I said, eyebrows raised. “But you are not any mage my dear. With the old guard gone – the wizards of old that had lived more than a thousand years – who is more powerful than you? Your name is starting to gain traction all over the Sword Coast!” “Oh, I can think of a few Thayans. One in particular…” He harrumphed loudly but made no retort. Instead, he continued with his flattery: “What truly matters my dear, is that this is your age. The longer you live, the more conquests you make, the more your myth as well as power shall grow…” “Enough, Eldrin, please… Have mercy.” I said, exhausted and embarrassed from his clumsy attempts to flatter me. “I need to know how exactly you envision my power being of any use whatsoever to you down there? The drow are highly resistant to magic - and I certainly do not have the capacity to lower the resistances of a large enough group of drow, let alone an entire city of them.” “Your increasing power has granted you extraordinary feats has it not? Spells that bypass resistances? Spells that call godly servants to your side?” “Oh, yes, I can just picture myself sauntering down Menzoberranzan with a Planetar in tow. Very subtle. We won’t even make it past the city gate, let alone to the First House itself” I responded, rolling my eyes dramatically. “You need an assassin, not a mage.”



A smile crept on his lips and I realized I’d been had – he had me right where he wanted me. “And what if we had an assassin? And your role was to infiltrate and ensure his success and escape to the surface? A drow assassin is all well and good, but he would not act if it cost him his life. Assurances must be made. His safety must be ensured.” “I love how I went from myth to bodyguard in the space of a few sentences Eldrin, thank you, I think this was the quickest and most severe demotion in history.” A hearty laugh escaped his lips. “Sometimes I wish I had not turned you away all those years ago. At least we would have had a little more fun around here. Iillura gave him a poisonous sideways glance, her mouth contorted in disgust. “With missions as exciting as bodyguard duty you will forgive me if I do not find the prospect as rivetting as you do. I presume the two-month training has to do with cultural immersion so that I do not give myself away?” “So smart…” “So smarmy…” I responded, matching his tone. Iillura unsuccessfully tried to suppress a giggle, while Eldrin tsked loudly at me but made no counter. “I will do as you ask. I will get my things and return tonight. One more question though… How will I get passage into the city? I do not exactly have the… right appearance. Moreover, are you sure this drow will willingly slay the most important matriarchs of his city? Are you sure he wishes to escape to the surface?” “We are sure. He prays to Eilistraee deeply every day for an escape from his current life and the bleak future he sees ahead of him. The Dark Maiden has heard his call and has intervened on his behalf with the High Priestess of the Promenade. You should know that he might be a male – lowly and insignificant in the eyes of his society, but he is also a noble from the Third House. I believe he is the second son. His pride will not be insignificant. Even a peasant drow would be prideful, but a noble especially so. Try to not insult his pride too much... You are not exactly, uh, famous for your, uh, courtesy. You of course as a female will always be superior, but you will also be a foreigner. These will be things to keep in mind. The priestesses will guide you better over the coming months. As to your other question, we count a Master Illusionist among our ranks. A mere illusion cast on your person would be too dangerous with the females’ clerical abilities to dispel even the most adroitly designed illusions. Our fellow however has encapsulated his illusion in this ring.” He produced a gold ring with a black signet seal and handed it to me. “It is cursed and will not be forced from your body without this curse removal scroll. The signet bears the seal of House Despana, First House of Ust Natha city. You will be impersonating their third and youngest daughter, Maelthra. I suggest you wear the ring tonight upon your return and immerse yourself in your role immediately. Two clerics from the temple of Eilistraee will oversee your education for the next two months. Good luck.” With this, he pressed the scroll into my hands and got up to leave, followed by Iillura who only nodded curtly my way before turning her back and heading towards the door. “Eldrin you better prepare a legally binding document stating that this service will be the first and last one performed as repayment for your lost investment” I said to his back. He briefly turned his face to look at me “Still unable to trust anyone Divina… Very well. I will send someone for your signature when it is drafted and send you an official copy when it has been declared binding by the Lords’ administrators.”



I breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally out the door and slumped a bit further into my chair, letting some of my tension dissipate. “Shall we go pick up your stuff?” the annoying redhead appeared from the shadows cast by the chartreuse velvet curtains, startling me back to full alertness. I cursed under my breath. “You again? Why, do you not trust I will come back? I have already agreed to this! I am not as finicky as you think girl.” She wrinkled her nose. “Are you always this barbed? I am Anna by the way. Anna. Not girl. Anna. Let’s go get your stuff. I only wish to make you comfortable. I’ll help you while you are here, introduce you to people. Okay?” “Very well, Anna, lead the way.”

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During Baldur's Gate 2, Shadows of Amn, the PC loses her soul to the mad mage Irenicus. Her body now an empty vessel bereft of both her divinity as well as her soul, she is on a race against time to reclaim what was taken from her or slowly wither and die. In this particular story which is part of a larger Fanfiction, the PC is romancing Haer'Dalis, a tiefling bard. What follows is an excerpt from Haer'Dalis' journal, right after the events at Spellhold.

"A whitewashed cottage by the sea, a place to rest our worn bodies and beaten minds in until we can find a way to leave Brynnlaw. Some of its walls have already started to crumble due to the daily brine spray of the sea. She has taken the corner-most room, asking for solitude. Yestereve, our first night outside Spellhold, I heard her muffled cries through the paper-thin walls as I lay in bed, similarly unable to sleep. I got up, not even bothering to get dressed and ran to her room not pausing to knock. I found her naked and trembling on top of the covers, curled up in a little ball, sniffling. Not a sight I am used to from my strong raven. I went to her, quietly enfolding her in my arms. "Did it happen again?" She shook her head no, her teeth digging into her fisted index finger. I gently pulled it out of her mouth and curled up next to her, pulling her golden hair away from her face and kissing her temple. "I fear for you..." I said, trying to keep the pain out of my voice. She quickly shifted her body on its back and whipped her head around to look at me with tear-filled eyes that still managed to pack enough strength to feel as though they seared me. "Fear OF me, you mean... fear... me..." her voice cracked and she closed the moonlit-green pools that are her eyes, causing a heavy tear to streak down each cheek.

I changed position to face her properly and wiped her tears with my thumbs, cupping her cheeks and caressing her softly. "Never my love. Never say that again. 'Tis not true. You will master this trial too. And we shall reclaim what is yours" I said, laying a hand meaningfully on the center of her chest. She had stopped crying, her breathing calmer. I blew out the candle on her bedpost, leaving the bright island moonlight be the only light in the room and unlaced my undergarments stepping off the bed a moment to lay them on the chair. I pressed my body on her frame and felt her grow rigid, her thighs and knees tightly clamping together. I laid a trail of kisses from her forehead, down her nose, to her sweet lips' bow and finally on her lips. "Let me in..." I murmured softly on her lips, pressing myself gently on her abdomen. "Let me in..." I quietly beseeched her again, caressing her lips with mine, her hair with my hand. Finally, I felt her loosening underneath me, her sweet legs parting in open invitation. I pushed myself inside her and rocked gently back and forth within her, my lips on her face, neck, nipples, my hands cradling her close to me, until her body finally came back to life. I heard her breath quickening and in that moment felt complete, fitting perfectly inside her, holding her close, not wanting to part. Her cheeks and nipples flushed pink, her slightly swollen lips parted and started calling my name "Haer-da-lis... Haer-da-lis... Haer-da-lis..!" a pleading mantra that made me feel like my heart was about to explode inside my chest. She speaks my name with such ease in the throes of passion, having no idea that it is my undoing, that she is fully in control even as my body pushes into hers, searching for home. I felt her convulse and tighten repeatedly around me, and felt a fever taking over my body and mind, my only thought to spread my seed inside her, as though that could make her whole again."

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Divina
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:iconpaytonsnewheart:
paytonsnewheart Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2018  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the llama!
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:icondivina-ls:
Divina-LS Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Welcome :)
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:iconphoenixreal:
phoenixreal Featured By Owner Apr 17, 2018  Professional General Artist
Good to find you on here! :) 
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:icondivina-ls:
Divina-LS Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Same to you!
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:iconmarianagatto:
marianagatto Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the lhama . 
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:icondivina-ls:
Divina-LS Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Pleasure. I enjoyed your writing.
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:iconmarianagatto:
marianagatto Featured By Owner Apr 3, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks . 
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:iconphreddyy:
phreddyy Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018
Hello Divina,
Many thanks for the Llama.
What have I done to deserve it?
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:icondivina-ls:
Divina-LS Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Hi Phreddyy, came across one of your pictures and enjoyed it. :)
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:iconphreddyy:
phreddyy Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018
Well many thanks, which one was it, I'll try to do more.
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