Death by Rebirth

He stumbled through the darkness aimlessly, a lost soul, propelled only by the desire to endure. His feet barely kept churning on the Underdark floor, striking a stone occasionally, tripping on several Fungi sprouts in the area. Barefoot, shivering and naked his glistening obsidian figure passed next to an outcropping of Shrooms, which illuminated him momentarily. His mercury irises dilated at the influx of purple-orange light nearly detecting a form to the environment. His head throbbed and pounded relentlessly, sending him into a swoon, nearly falling to the cold forest floor. He could hear himself breathe, the sounds of a flailing and dying Drow. Searching….Searching…a desperate continuation for purpose to maintain life, where was it? Did it matter?

Many wounds adorned his thin body, some were tears, others burns as if horribly mutilated by magical damage. He tasted his own bile but barely kept the frame of mind to even remember what that meant. Arms wrapped tightly around his torso he trod along, with no direction, only the will to survive and a reckoning that defied what the mortal body should be able to tolerate.

The dark figure tripped suddenly and took a serious dive, hurtled at an angle downward. The ground rose up eagerly to meet him, just in time for a slight turn of his shoulder to manage a blunted impact. He heard the breath leave him when he struck the cold and merciless stone, rolling now, down and down. It didn’t matter how many times the world spun, the end of him was near he began to welcome it. Sweet release…

NO!

It grunted, the pitiful broken thing, barely a drow elf and reached out from the ravine it had fallen into. It was a shallow end, close to the golden portal he emerged from earlier, but the fall still crippled his effort to continue. Crawling now, one arm cradling his ribcage, the other reaching out for dirt and stone. He managed to pull himself up into a crouching position somehow, vomited blood and nearly smiled. His vision was poor, eyes swollen shut, but with his infravision he was able to make out an enormous hulking form stomping its way towards him. Even with his compromised vision he could tell its shape was inconsistent and deformed. It looked angry that he had trespassed into the Mushroom Forest, so many of its kind had fallen to his. This would be a moment of retribution for the Myconoids! He would have stood if possible, to face death on his feet. But there would be none of that today, the Keeper descended upon him…

It was time to die.

The small drowess leaned over him, her eyes searching for life. Soft words of power on her lips as she screams like a banshee and explodes the surrounding hoard of Myconoids into oblivian. She coughs a bit at the yellow dust that was once the myconoids then looks down at the Jaluk a hint of concern on her face. She quickly looks about to ensure no other witnesses are close, seeing none she bends down and helps the dieing drow male, her song of healing surrounds him and pulls him back from the brink of death. For many long moments she holds him tenderly, her song slowly healing him.....

Not too long into the healing montage there is suddenly a wave of negative energy that hits both participants as an invisible priestess appears having come across the scene and not liking what she saw the invisiblity breaking with the wave of negative energy she had called forth
"Dos have one second to explain what the vith this is before usstan decide from what usstan see"

She looks up at the Yathrin and stands quickly before bowing deeply. I have found this Jaluk malla Yathrin, I have never seen this Jaluk before, he must have travelled far to arrive here. I am only healing him so that he may yet continue to serve. I am curious his story and where he comes from malla Yathrin, he may have news from deeper in the Underdark. As I am sure the Yathrin knows, the portals within camp bring a new enemy to the camp. This one may have some news of other places.

"Which begets the question why dos feels the need to attach dosstaself to him. There is nau place for the weak or helpless before malla lolth, so usstan will see if this jaluk is worthy or should remain dead."

She grabs the injured jaluk by the neck and starts to drag him towards the cliff edge, allowing healing energies to keep him concious and heal only the very worst of his wounds slightly. She then dangles him over the edge of the cliff.

"So jaluk a zuddar for dos, survive this and usstan might allow dos a chance, die and dos will stay that way"

She smirks somewhat sadistically

"Any questions?"

She lets go of him before he can say anything, she then turns on the Jalil.
"Dos are naut to help the jaluk, should he surive then dos can question him then only after he has finished saying what he has seen and has imparted all the knowledge of import, only then will dos heal him, am usstan clear?
He dies before that then he stays that way.

And if usstan come to find dos caressing another jaluk like that usstan will take that as an excuse to correct such, and all usstan need is an excuse. Dos may think dossta past is left behind but usstan have naut forgotten and dos are still naut redeemed in ussa eyes."

She takes a step away from the edge giving a curious glance down at the jaluk

"Just an excuse jalil is all it will take"

She dissapears under a veil of invisibility seeming to stay long enough to make sure the Jalil gets the message right but departs soon after

"Lolth eyes are everywhere Jalil"

It fell a short distance, collided with a jut of stone in the wall, flipped end over end towards it’s doom. Blackness filled the ravine and raced past him, another collision, with a gradual decline in the wall of the cliff. He let out a loud “HoooAH!” upon impact, then rolled and tumbled to nowhere and nothingness. Another free fall, darkness swallowed him up and insisted on crushing him. Suddenly the chilling impact of water assailed his sensitive skin, SPLASH… right into the drink. The temperature was bitter cold and the poor “Jaluk” let out a howl with his remaining breath. The current tore him away from the entry point, brutal and malignant it swept him to unknown reaches of the Underdark. Fading out of consciousness would be a sweet mercy from this, even though all of his dermal senses were long numb from shock.



His last memories would be those two faces up in the Mushroom Forest. The first, unnervingly kind and benevolent, a contradiction to what his instincts told him. The second twisted and evil, lacking remorse or consideration for anything but what she supposed. In an odd sick way, he was more comfortable with the second face, who tossed him over the edge of the cliff as if he were just refuse to be discarded.



With that thought, words from others long past surfaced in his mind, during these last moments, he heard them like he was there with them in the tower.



“…this is how we were made Vesh’Lee.”

“But you’re talking about complete destruction!”

“Everyone dies eventually Vesh’Lee, I’m just changing the time controls.”

*crickets*

"Look at how disgusting it is Xix'tl." the psionist relayed to his companion. From the deep gloom of the lowerdark an Illithid emerged and briefly observed the broken form of a male Drow on the riverbank, hung up in a crop of jutting terror-root. "An Ilythirii' male is disgusting regardless of condition. Do not touch it E'eie, there may be disease."

E'eie sent an assessing wave of Psionic energy over the dead Drow hoping for any signs of life. Eager tendrils danced around it's face as it made a fortuitous revelation. "It lives! There is activity within the skull flesh..."

"Do not touch it, let it die."

"Xix'tl come closer, observe it well." E'eie bade the older and more experienced Mindflayer. Xix'tl paused and became slightly annoyed that their progress had been delayed by a dead Drow. But something became critically apparent once the elder of the two Illithids focused on the discarded Ilythirii'. "What does it mean?" E'eie asked telepathically, obviously excited. Another pause by Xix'tl brought the elder to realize his own tendrils were flaying about, an expression of intrigue...or excitement? "It means we have stumbled upon a potentially ignorant weapon."

The body of the drowned jaluk began to lift from the clutches of the terror-roots, telekinetically guided by the powerful elder and placed upon the drier soil of the Underdark. Then the two mindlflayers stood above the corpse of their quarry and shared the possibilities of such a weapon. On cue they linked their minds together and stretched out their hands. Energies washed over and through A'laun'tes, stealing away all of his injuries and restored him to complete health. His consciousness surfaced and only for one moment did he register his two improbable companions, then a wave of Psionic energy sent him back to darkness. The mindlflayers work quick and efficient, locking away all memories of the events leading up to this moment, save for his name.

"It will need garments for a successful return." they shared telepathically. E'eie was loathe to allow such a succulent meal go, it's skull flesh was packed with juicy knowledge and insight! But a relay to their Elder Brain confirmed that A'laun'tes would be a better servant, if revived and allowed to go free. As Xix'tl removed a wand from his belt E'eie commented, "His fingers would delight the Elder Brain for many centuries..."

"That has already been considered, but even more delighted if set free upon our foes." Xix'tl pointed the wand and instantly clothing appeared on their catch. "Now, send it away E'eie, close to the refugee camp. Yet far from danger."

E'eie gathered his sorcerous power and focused on the well dressed Drow elf. A soft glow outlined the form of A'laun'tes and gradually he faded out of sight.

The two Illithids stood there alone and regarded one another, noticing that all of their tendrils swirled in excitement.