Emperor’s Lanceboard | By : DCS Category: +A through F > Baldur's Gate Views: 1019 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: All rights belong to the original creators of any characters subject to copyright or trademark laws. I am not making money from this story, it was written for entertainment. All rights reserved to Larian Studios and Wizards Of The Coast. |
Foreword: This story is slow burn a Dark Romance that takes place after Act 3. The Tav character in this story will have a plot and build-up away from the Emporer. Initially, the Emporer will not be a visible character in this story. Readers can expect smut Drow/Human spicy times and more. So even if the Emperor is not your preference, you can find ample other NPC background characters within the story that might be to your tastes. I will include Dungeons and Dragons lore when possible.
The Tav character in the story will be referred to by the name of Yvonstra, which is a more traditional style Drow name. She is a middle-aged drow female (human age equal around 30) that is a warrior / rogue who is an observer of Lloth. Yvonstra, opted for welcoming the Emporer’s advances, knowing such is likely a manipulation tactic and is a highly dangerous coupling. As a result of her abduction, she suffers from memory loss and is uncertain how to proceed with her life. Uncertain as to who she actually is, and her purpose in The Emporer's games she has many questions to answer.
----Drow Language Glossary----
*Abbil - tongue-in-cheek term for allies and “trusted friends”, and oxymoron for Drow culture.
*Colnbluth - non-drow races.
*Elamshin - will of Lloth, or something like destiny.
*Haszak - Drow term for Illithid.
*Jivvin golhyrr - A fighting style used by Priestesses of Lloth to force a foe into a humiliating position.
*Qilovestualt - Drow wine made from mushrooms.
-------------------------------------------------------STORY BELOW---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mortal screams, utter destruction, and oily smoke heralded what was to be the final hour of Baldur’s Gate, and yet was not.
Slowly, the adrenaline rush coursing through her veins slowed as Yvonstra’s stood on the weather docks, her gaze swept over the smoldering ruins and carnage of what was once a vibrant city. For some time she stood there, uncertain of what there was now to do. With the NetherBrain defeated and the Crown out of reach, there was a moment and a glimmer of hope for a return to peace. It was now time for the people of Baldur’s Gate to rebuild and mourn their losses.
But this was not Yvonstra’s city; these were not her people. With skin as inky black as the darkness of the depths of the Underdark, and her bloodline faith in service to Lloth, Yvonstra was an outsider far from home. Standing there dripping wet, she felt alone and lost on the surface world.
Alone. She felt alone.
For the first time since the tadpole infection, she felt alone, and the sudden gravity of the emptiness was jarring. With the death of the Netherbrain and the infectious tadpoles dead, the ever-present psionic connection between the illithid tadpoles was gone. The shared connection with her infected adventuring companions was now gone and so, too was the connection shared with the enigmatic figure referred to as the Emperor.
Slowly but surely, the other shell-shocked survivors gathered, the wayward band of adventures coalescing once more so that they might look on with wonder and reflect upon what happened and what lay ahead. This was only the start of a new chapter, and rebuilding would take time and effort. Standing on the surface in daylight had now become uncomfortable for Drow, but it would be tolerated for a few moments more if only for closure. With the tadpole gone, so too was her tolerance for daylight.
As her jaw set and dark eyes hardened once more, her attention shifted to the only being present whose psionic absence weighted upon her the most. In turning her attention to address the illithid who had been her guardian and lover through the overwhelming odds, their eyes would meet, her own dark gaze holding his fiery focus upon her. Purely mortal once more, though still a Drow, the well-engrained paranoia and fear towards his species clawed at her from the depths of her mind. For a moment, she stood there silently looking at him, an unspoken, hidden sense of loss growing within her chest, masked by the hard, steely gaze of a veteran adventurer and the brutal determination of a Drow woman.
Yvonstra knew, without a spoken word, that her place in the ruins of this surface city was not to be. Though she loathed to admit it, there was an aching yearning to remain at his side, but this was not her world, and these were not her people. She was as much, if not more of an outsider in Baldur’s Gate than he was. Unlike her, the Emporer knew this city unlike any other, having sculpted and crafted it as a grand work and labor. This was his home, not hers. More so, were the feelings and longing desire she felt even hers?
“And of you, what will you do now?” He broke the heavy silence between them with a question that carried much weight.
She considered her next words before responding to him. “Elamshin calls me from this place. From here, I may head south toward Amn. The local merchants speak highly of it both in trade, wealth, and natural wonders. I wish you well, but my place is not here.” Where…was her own home? She couldn’t recall.
Life in the Underdark has instilled her with an instinctual reservation if not outright loathing, though cautious respect for illithid. It was wisest to distrust her own romantic inclination to remain in the city to be with him. Loath to let herself have a moment to question this choice, she turned her attention to the other survivors and party members.
Elsewhere on the docks one of the party was giving a rallying speech, and it was during that speech that the rogue knew it wisest to depart back to the Elfsong Tavern to collect her things and leave. For a moment, she stood looking to the others, etching their faces and memories one last time into her memory before she returned to the open road and quest to uncover who she was before the abduction and who she will now become.
Of those survivors gathered, there was only one whose gaze she could not meet as he looked upon her with his unwavering stare. One whose emotions and thoughts were now totally denied to her: the Emporer.
It was time to leave; she did not belong among so many colnbluth. As she departed from the gathering on the dock, the Emporer observed as one of his favored pieces on his lanceboard walked away, leaving him with calculations to be made. He needed a replacement to fill the void that Duke Belynne Stelmane had left if his plans were to succeed. There were also grander designs to pursue beyond Baldur’s Gate, one that a Drow Matron would be suited to. After all, Illithid operated best with the aid of thralls, willing or unwilling.
There were only a few choices he could make, and the wisest for now was to let Yvonstra leave. The crisis of the city and its needs were more immediate, and for that, there were other pawns more easily accessed and brought under the heel that would meet his more immediate needs.
After all, the game of her seduction and real chase had already begun.
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