The ancestors work in mysterious ways – none more so than the Dark Mother, Lloth.

It was a time of great strife for our race. We were under constant attack from the denizens of the Deep Dark. Patrols were regularly sent out to do battle with these hideous and mutated creatures. Our warriors would come back crippled from the beasts’ acidic blood. Even in death, the creatures were lethal.

But to a young Paladin, it was a great adventure. I was too young and naïve to understand the danger I was placing myself in. I was thirsty for glory in Lloth’s name. I had been part of my unit for only a handful of months, and had as yet to be truly tested. Having never stared death in the eye, I could not even begin to contemplate my own mortality.

My unit comprised of 12 Paladins, ranging from raw recruits such as myself, to experienced war veterans. Of particular note was Vlonryn Rilynar, a Paladin of great renown. Vlonryn had waged bloody war in the name of the Dark Mother for two centuries, and was widely regarded as the most successful Paladin of Lloth of our time. He was cold as iron, and a fearsome warrior who fought with no hint of emotion. It made no difference what odds he faced, or how powerful the foe; he simply waded in with his sword and drenched the caverns of Trentarus in blood.

As a new initiate, I was in awe of Vlonryn. However, this was not a feeling that I shared with the rest of my unit. Those that had worked with him soon became disillusioned. I heard tales of how all of the others were forced to live in his shadow. No matter how hard they fought, they could never match him, and therefore they could never share in his glory. During my first year with the unit I began to understand their angst. I knew that no matter what I did, or how hard I strived, it would always be Vlonryn that received the praise in Lloth’s name. All I would ever be was another member of his famous unit. In the beginning it was a thrill to be associated with him, but after a while I came to realise that whilst he lived, I would always be denied that which every Paladin yearns for.

So it was that the resentment grew. Yet our unrest did not stop the attacks, and we were kept busy with defending our people. Vlonryn either did not notice the antagonism towards him, or he simply did not care. It was during my first year of service that he was made Head Paladin, earning the favour of several Matron Mothers. This did not endear him any further to us.

It was during my second year of service that the balance was tipped.

We were sent deep into the Caverns, towards the Cave of Whispers. The denizens of the Deep Dark were threatening the headquarters of the Paladins, and they needed to be repelled before they could taint the final resting place of so many of our warriors. Vlonryn’s unit was the obvious choice for the mission, and we set out to meet our enemy.

The march was uneventful. Vlonryn would take his rest and refreshment apart from the rest of us. He only spoke to issue commands, and never passed the time with casual conversation. I never once saw him idle. Whilst at rest, he would hone the edge of his sword, or oil his armour, whilst the rest of us swapped tales of our greatest feats and accomplishments. I am ashamed to admit that my trepidation for our mission showed up in the mindless chatter I often engaged myself in. But I was not alone in my fears. We were travelling away from our home and away from any help or back up. We would have to rely on our weapons and ourselves, and, of course, the will of Lloth.

One evening we made camp, and after the talk had died down, many of the Paladins sought sleep or meditation. I was still too inexperienced to derive all the rest I needed from meditation, so I curled up in a blanket on the cold cavern floor. I was desperately uncomfortable, and doubted that I would ever get to sleep. Therefore it came as a shock when I was woken by someone shaking my shoulder. They had their hand over my mouth to prevent me from crying out. As the initial confusion left me, I realised it was Vlonryn. He bent down to whisper in my ear:

‘We are about to be attacked. Wake the others and ready yourselves’

That was all he said. No explanations, no further instructions. I scrabbled around the cavern, and quickly the word was spread. We silently unsheathed our weapons and readied ourselves for battle. Thanks to Vlonryn, our enemy lost the element of surprise. Rather than facing an off guard unit, they met the full force of the Paladins of Lloth.

We engaged the monstrous creatures, plunging our swords deep into their flesh, and then wiping them on their twitching bodies to prevent the acidic blood destroying the metal. Time raced by, and soon I had dispatched several by myself. Yet they kept coming. We fought well, but the shear number of aggressors was starting to overwhelm us. My elation at my own success was starting to be replaced by panic.

Maybe the Dark Mother was testing my courage and valour, for it was at that exact moment that the creatures’ leader appeared. It squeezed its way out from a tunnel entrance, and I remember wondering how it had managed to fit down there in the first place. Tentacles and limbs slowly unravelled, revealing a fleshy torso topped off by a disproportionably small head. Fully extended, the creature was twice the size of the tunnel it emerged from, and four times the size of any of us. It surveyed us with dark spherical eyes, casting its gaze over the fallen bodies of its troops.

It let out an inhuman wail and raced towards us on two pairs of insect like legs. Many of us were still engaged in fighting, and could only spare it a fleeting glance. Vlonryn himself was fighting 3 of the denizens at once, and could not disengage to take on their leader. A young drow called Ilivisstra rushed forward to take on the beast, seizing the opportunity to steal both glory and fame from Vlonryn.

Ilivisstra met the beasts headlong charge, plunging his sword into its chest. The metal was swallowed by the pale flesh, and Ilivisstra struggled to pull his weapon free. The beast itself did not seem to notice the attack, and bared down on the Paladin, insect like arms extended. Lacking an opponent, I watched the scene in horror. Ilivisstra struck and parried, but all to no avail. His sword would plunge in, and within seconds of it being withdrawn the wound would heal. The battle was futile, and I think Ilivisstra knew it.

By this time, Vlonryn had freed himself from the melee and sprinted over to fight at Ilivisstra’s side. He avoided the fleshy parts of the creature and aimed his weapons at its legs and head. A glancing blow took off part of the beasts jaw, and it let out a high-pitched scream, causing even its minions to pause. Then it returned to the fight with a new ferocity, spitting acid at the warriors and attempting to pierce their bodies with evil claws mounted on the knuckles of its hands.

Ilivisstra was young, but by no means stupid. He saw the tactics that Vlonryn was using, and followed suit. Soon both of them were concentrating their blows on the beast’s head and limbs, causing it to howl in pain. Time for me had now slowed, and I found myself mesmerised by the fight. It looked like an elaborate and carefully choreographed dance, with the grace and beauty of the fighting drow offset by the ungainly horror of the beast they fought. They twisted and spun around each other, their weapons moving so quickly that they became no more than a silver blur.

Suddenly Ilivisstra landed a heavy blow, carving off one of the creature’s front legs. The disembodied limb twitched and convulsed on the floor, and the beast roared, standing up on its hind legs. At full height, its head brushed the roof of the cavern. For a fraction of a second that seemed to last an eternity, it looked down upon us, then it flung itself at Ilivisstra.

For a short moment, Ilivisstra was covered by the beast’s body. Then it rose back up to full height, with the Paladin suspended by the spikes on its hands. I could see the end of the sharp horns protruding through Ilivisstra’s shoulders, piercing him from back to front. The creature shook him, and he could not help but cry out in pain.

Vlonryn repeatedly plunged his sword into the creatures now exposed belly, but as before, the wounds healed as soon as the sword was withdrawn. He tried to hack at its legs, but it simply danced out of the way. It no longer tried to fight back, but was content to evade Vlonryn’s blows. Ilivisstra dangled from its grasp, some 8 foot above us, and there was nothing that any of us could do to help. Slowly the beast lowered its head so that it was alongside Ilivisstra’s and extended a forked tongue. Ilivisstra screamed as it licked the side of his face, leaving behind acid that rapidly ate into his skin. I was frozen by the horror in front of me, and was capable of doing no more than watching. But Vlonryn was still on his feet, so the day was not yet lost.

Vlonryn stepped back from the beast, looking up to where Ilivisstra was suspended. With only a moment’s pause, he turned and sprinted away, leaving the rest of the Paladins momentarily confused. He reached the sloping cavern wall, and, belying his heavy build, ran half way up it. He then twisted and launched himself off the wall, straight towards the beast. Whilst still in mid air, he drew back his sword and hurled it at the creature’s head. There was a scream, followed by the sound of all three crashing to the floor. The lesser denizens of the deep dark scuttled away, their courage evaporating as they witnessed their leader fall. Silence settled on the cavern, and all that was left for us to do was survey the carnage that was left.

Vlonryn sat amongst the bodies of the fallen, massaging his leg, which he appeared to have injured in his leap. Ten other Paladins, myself included, staunched the blood from shallow wounds and wiped acid from our blades. None of us could look Vlonryn in the eye, and none of us could bring ourselves to approach our fallen brother.

Eventually, Vlonryn stood up and strode towards the beast. Its body lay in a mangled and twisted heap on the floor. Ilivisstra was clutched against it in a morbid embrace, the sharp horns from the creature’s fists still protruding through his shoulder blades. It was not his death mask that fixed our silence, but rather the manner of his death. Vlonryn’s sword hilt emerged from the side of Ilivistra’s head, almost as if he had turned his face at the last moment in a futile attempt to avoid the blow. The blade passed straight through his skull, out the other side and then plunged into the beast’s eye. The two were pinned together in a grim and fatal union; both killed my Vlonryn’s sword.

Without emotion, Vlonryn braced Ilivisstra’s head with his foot and pulled out his weapon. Blood began to pour from the now open wound, and the Head Paladin moved away so as to avoid being covered in it. He took out a cloth, cleaned his blade, and then resheathed it. Silently he left the cave.

It fell to us to retrieve Ilivisstra’s body. It took three of us to pull him free of the creature’s spikes. We wrapped him in cloth and took turns to carry his load. Vlonryn did not comment on our actions, but he also refrained from offering to take the weight of his fallen brother. It would seem that to Vlonryn, Ilivisstra had never existed.

We roamed the caverns for a few more days, until it became apparent that we had struck a real blow to our enemies. There were no further attacks, and we returned to Trentarus. We carried the body of Ilivisstra back to his house, and were thanked by his Matron. Vlonryn was declared a hero, and credited with the destruction of one of the leaders of the denizens from the Deep Dark. Ilivisstra’s efforts went unmentioned and unnoticed.

An unhealthy mood descended upon our unit. We were given a new recruit to replace Ilivisstra, so I was no longer the youngest member. We went on several routine patrols, but could find nothing with which to wet our blades. A gulf opened between the Head Paladin and our unit, and the only bridge to span it was one of tension and animosity.

It was not long before my brothers began to whisper about Vlonryn. Many were of the opinion that he could have saved Ilivisstra, but that if he had, he would also have had to share the glory. Whilst none of us could have managed his gravity-defying leap, we were all sure that if we had, we would have managed to skewer the beast without causing further harm to Ilivisstra. Given the mans skill, Ilivisstra’s death must have been intentional. Our hatred for him grew, and nothing would sate it.

Over the next month the situation worsened. But all those that could have wrought a change were too confident in Vlonryn’s ability to lead, and therefore no one stepped in. There were mutterings amongst the more seasoned and battle hardened of our unit, and often I heard talk of revenging Ilivisstra’s death. I cannot decide if my exclusion from their plans was fortunate, as whilst my conscious may be clear in that one respect, I was equally guilty of propagating the atmosphere of discontent.

Two months of inactivity lead up to that fateful day. We had seen no action and had nothing to distract us from our brooding. I was not involved in the plotting and deceit, but I did bear witness to all the events that occurred.

It was another pointless exercise, which involved a great deal of walking and no fighting. We were marching along by the river, which was one of our regular patrol zones. We paused after 8 hours of marching, and prepared to make camp for the night. Bedrolls were laid out and meagre rations distributed. One of the older brothers offered to get water, and I remember thinking how odd it was for anyone to offer to do anything for Vlonryn without being commanded.

As I opened my ration pack I heard an almighty splash. The Paladin who had been fetching the water was now thrashing around in the river, calling for help. Vlonryn sprang to his feet and ran over to the riverbank. Reaching out his hands, he took hold of the Paladin, but the weight of the water pulled at them both. After a struggle, Vlonryn managed to lock both his hands around the mans wrists, and began to drag him out.

In the darkness, shadows began to move. Four figures slunk towards Vlonryn, and I saw a glint of metal. Suddenly there was a bellow as the shadows fell on Vlonryn’s back. His face contorted in agony, but he still managed to pull the Paladin out of the river, before turning to remove the daggers from his back. Three hilts protruded from his cloak, the fourth dagger lay impotent on the floor. He pulled them out as if they were nothing more than thorns, then turned to look for his assailants. The Paladins were silent, shielding those that had done the deed. For the first time ever I saw emotion on Vlonryn’s face, and it was confusion.

‘Why have you done this to me? And what did you hope to achieve?’

Then his face froze and his body began to spasm. The poison flowed quickly through his veins, rapidly spreading death. One of the Paladins stepped forward, finding courage now that Vlonryn seemed completely disarmed. He stood over him and laughed:

‘That is for Ilivisstra, whose life you took when it could have been spared. Lloth will have her vengeance!’

The words seemed to impact physically on Vlonryn. His body ceased to spasm, his eyes rolled back and he focussed on the man in front of him.

‘Ilivisstra was dead the moment the beast touched him with its tongue. In the saliva of such creatures is a poison, which slowly eats away the flesh, producing a death much akin to being flayed alive. Yes – I killed him – and if it had been me in his place, I would have welcomed a swift death’.

The Paladins looked to one another, testing this explanation and knowing that Vlonryn had no reason to lie. An uncomfortable silence fell. Vlonryn spat the froth out of his mouth, shifted his weight on his now paralysed legs, and surveyed us all.

‘I fought for Lloth, and for Trentarus. I earned my place by the strength of my sword and my ability in battle. I have no need to take the life of anyone but my enemy. Yet you honour me with poisoned daggers, plunged in my back whilst I tried to help you. Creatures of the dark we may be, but we are also brothers, united by the Dark Mother. So, brothers that are now my enemies, in Lloth’s name, I curse you all!’

Silently we watched as his body began to twitch once more. His convulsions became more violent, and his body jerked across the ground. One final lurch carried his body into the water, but none of us moved forward to see if it sank or was carried away. His final words echoed in our ears, and none of us could find any reason to be proud of what had just occurred.

We returned to Trentarus and all agreed that we would say that Vlonryn was dragged into the river by a beast that lived in its depths and that, despite our efforts, we could not help him. The news was met with shock and horror. No one could believe he had been bested, and they were right to doubt our story. In hindsight I realised that we had robbed Lloth of one of her strongest swords, and I feared the price we would have to pay.

A month later, Vlonryn wreaked his revenge. The waters of the river that fed Trentarus, the same waters that were now his final resting place, turned brackish. The fish died, the plants on the bank withered and turned black, and we were forced to seek new sources of drinking water. Much troubled by this change, the High Priestess prayed for insight. She was visited by a powerful revenant – none other than the pattern of Vlonryn. Our deceit was exposed.

An investigation was launched, and the five Paladins directly involved were executed. Ilivisstra’s Matron had supplied them with the poison, so she was also put to the death, and her house was dissolved. The rest of my unit was forced to spend a year conveying fresh water to Trentarus, but none of us complained about our lot. We still had our lives, and a chance to prove ourselves again and maybe regain some pride.

The water remains brackish up till this very day, and Vlonryn’s revenant is said to still wander through those caverns. The High Priestess has declared that it shall remain that way until someone can find a way to purge the shame cast over us all at Vlonryn’s murder, and allow his revenant spirit to return to the Dark Mother. How this is to be done, I cannot determine, but I shall dedicate my life to this quest. Otherwise, I fear that an eternity of damnation awaits for me in the afterlife. Therefore I must find a way to do Lloths will.

~ Unknown Scribe