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    Eh, prolly not. I mean, you're very solid for a spectre and I don't mean that in a buddy sense, but.. maybe? Hey I'm not a simply categorized apparition either. Also stop fantasizing about Ventus, I can see your surface thoughts and it's distracting me too! The spirit had complained. Luckily, Ventus seemed to have.. kind of.. heard their plea.

    'I can't -quite- sense whats going on around me, but still I feel I should write: Don't give me that look. But yes, it's all very disorienting, my dark archer, but if the sword were to reclaim me, I'd strive to have it claim you too. Such is the very nature of my being .. even now.. I.. It's better I don't dwell. Let us.. distract ourselfs.' The letters suggested in response to Dasyra, eldritch energy subtly distorting the air right over the pages.

    The tentacle tasted... well, like rubbery ink, though, on a more spiritual level there was a feeling of attending Ventus that the elf had been made, had accepted to yearn for, as the tentacle quickly responded to the attention rendered to it by thrusting up into her, oozing summonned sustenance to keep Ventus enslaved elf nourished with a hint of a taste, before the elf lewdly mounted the tome.. looking like a rather creative mage-apprentice in darker tones as tendrils thrust from the tome and deep into her cool, moist depths.

    There was no sound other than her own moaning, which was perhaps arousing by itself, and the slick, wet pumping of the tentacles, one more even coiling around Dasyra in a symbolic gesture of capture, keeping her upon the tome as the tentacles pushed deeper, swirling and oozing their cool stickyness as they pumped deep into Dasyras form, giving her little time to prepare for the progressively powerful intrusion. Of course, she neither needed,.. nor wanted much time to prepare, her undead body able.. if not -made- to take muuch wilder a lover than any ordinary lithe elven maiden could have, the tendrils growing wild and restless within her, pumping and pulsating, mimicking Ventus firm and relentless fucking of her property, knowing what they both wanted,.. needed.
    All too soon, almost, the tentacles twitched and halted for a brief moment, teasing the elf before filling her up with conjured cum, joining in with a moaning from the ghost posessing her and clearly enjoying herself as well, as the feeling of cum pouring into her both sated and reinforced the undead rangers eternal addiction.
    For the old her, perhaps this would have been a defiling experience as eldritch ooze and cum poured into her, but her new, darker self eagerly absorbed the sustenance, her body rejoicing when these two tendrils withdrew.. only for two new to take their place, rubbing into her slickened, slime covered sex only to thrust themselfs in with little hesitation, Ventus knowing of her slaves wilder, insatiable urges.. having after all stocked their fires quite personally, and a single round of tentacles coiling around her simply would not do.

    Soon, the second pair of tentacles had shifted into a ... relaxing rythm, one pumping into her, at the same time as the other pulled out, by now, even with Dasyras hungry body absorbing some of it, making lewd sloshing noises as they stirred her undead openings, with the tentacles first climax only having been an appetizing warmup, tendrils slithering and thrusting into her for several minutes before, delivering a second release, finally fading away... clearly that had exhausted Ventus, leaving only a brief parting message of:

    'Make me proud, my creature.' with a stylized drawing of an inky rose besides it, the deathknight clearly taking pleasure in both wooing and pervertedly claiming her lover like this.

    (No tentacles+Sylvana alone hentai to be found out there, 'tis a crime!)
    Play my naughty games here:

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      OOC:

      In the criminal summoning circles of the Underdark, sexual tentacle conjurations are considered especially erotic. These are the tales of the Tentacle Victims Unit.

      Dominant Law & Obedient Order: TVU.

      Dun dun!
      --------------------------------------------------------------------------

      YCH Commission: Greyfield by ratedehcs

      "Oh Sylvie... if you're going to be in my mind, then you'll just have to get used to my fantasies~ I've been given undeath with the express purpose of being Ventus' eternal love-slave. There's nothing quite so near to my mind as the longing for the Mistress' sweet attentions.~"

      Dasyra's realization of Ventus' awareness caused the undead elf to fidget with barely contained excitement. Her oath of loyalty to Ventus, bound forever by the goddess of eternal love, strained at her unbeating heart as she crawled to the book to read its words reverently. Though the truth of what Ventus would do to her pained her, she bit her lip and nodded once she'd read the message.

      "Oh Mistress. Even should the worst happen, and you were to have the sword claim my soul in the end, I would at least still be with you. I could exist with such a fate, though not be so nearly as happy if I could free you from your curse! I want to spend eternity with you holding a new sword - reworked and no longer aligned to the evil lich's plot! Where you would be free to hold me in your arms and we could pleasure one another for thousands of years!"

      She squirmed as the tentacles arose, her flower already moistened with nectar, now growing even more slick as her thighs rubbed together and her tongue snaked out to suckle a taste of the oozing appendages. She was given a a small portion of oozing, summoned ejaculate, before she switched positions, and positioned her dripping wet cunny over the tome to invite the tendrils to push upwards, deep inside of her immortal frame and claim her.

      The largest of the tendrils slid deep into her welcoming folds, which swallowed the tentacle with a squelching sound as it wasted no time in snaking up her tight tunnel and kissing up against her cervix, threatening to push through and re-shape the undead ranger's insides to make her a more fitting cum receptacle for the enrapturing, pulsating cock limbs. Dasyra moaned in joy, and let the supplemental tendrils coil around her wrists, thighs and waist, to hold her in place as her body gyrated on top of the book. Her back arched, thrusting out her pert breasts and erect nipples while her neck craned backward, her mouth agape and eyes lost in the haze of satisfied lust.

      The spell was agrressive, domineering, and controlling of her body, which suited Dasyra just fine, for it reminded her of the rough fucking that turned her on plenty when the Mistress had been handling her in their private room steeped with negative energy in the frozen fortress in the Underdark. Another tendril slipped into her rear hole and alternated its thrust with the primary tendril, each of the pumping and ramming home inside of her, bouncing her up with every new re-entry, making her lovely orbs heave and sway in an erotic fashion. Dasyra tossed her pride to the wind and began to moan lewdly, not caring if anyone heard, though it was doubtful that there would be anyone so far out in the wilderness as she was now.

      Soon she received her first full load, a glazing of oozing cum that splattered and coated her cool tunnels with a warm gooey gift that her body began to absorb for nourishment.

      "Ohhh, Ahhh! Nnnhhaaaahhh! Yes. Yes. Yes!! Oh Ventus!"

      Dasrya shuddered violently with the force of her own orgasm, her mind going white and blank as her senses were overwhelmed with pleasure. Her head then tilted forward, her tongue slightly lolling out in front of her as the initial tentacles withdrew, leaving her holes to leak slightly, before being almost immediately replaced with two fresh limbs, waiting to stuff her insides and throw her right back into mind-numbing ecstasy. Her moaning kicked in once again, and this time lasting longer as they performed a drawn out plumbing of her depths, making louder sex noises to go along with her mewling.

      The dark ranger could sense her skin-riding ghost sister-wife getting horny and achieving orgasm as well through her.

      "Nnnh... fuck.. isn't it the best?" She wondered aloud to Sylvie, but soon was rendered unintelligible as the tentacles picked up their pace until unleashing a second torrent of cum inside of her before fading away as the summoning spell ended, causing the stunned Dasyra to fall backwards in a heap, with viscous liquid pouring out of her holes into sticky pools on the ground beneath her.

      When she had the sense enough to read again, Dasyra smiled at the black rose signature and her newest command from her mistress.

      "I will make your proud, my beloved Mistress. You'll see. I'll return you to the glory you so richly deserve. We'll be free to spend eternity doing what you truly desire. Just you wait... Hnnnh... so good... nnh~"

      Dasyra let herself lie still for a while, enjoying her so-called defilement by the tentacle spell, letting the tentacle cum that she hadn't immediately absorbed just lie on top of her. Idly she brought her fingers down to the dripping pool of semen between her thighs and scooped it up, bringing the sticky ribbons of cum to her lips and suckling on her fingers as if they were lollie pops. She cleaned herself in this way, wanting to not waste the precious seed. Only when this was complete and she'd absorbed every last drop, did she right herself, and begin to don her armor again, then she wrapped the book up safely into her pack and cradled it.

      "She is with us.~ It is so re-assuring... yet at the same time, it's clear that my quest is on a knife's edge. I must cleanse Ventus' blade of its curse before restoring her, or I will truly join her as a slave to that odious curse."

      She stood up, strong enough to continue due only to her undead fortitude. Her mortal elven form would have needed days to fully recover from such a monstrous ravishing.

      "Let's continue onward, Sylvie. I'll disguise myself as best I can when I enter civiization, and keep to the shadows. We'll head to my old adventurer's guild to see if we can track my former companions that way. I'll do my best not to let them think me a threat. If anyone asks, we're a drow that's erm... been cast out by our people and put under a curse. We'll just have to tell them we're busy trying to make up for all the bad rap that our matriarchy gets."

      She shrugged, having no better plan and not being in position to wait on a better idea to occur.

      Comment


        .. Well so have I. Sylvie admitted about being Ventus love-slave, sounding almost shy for a change. Well, not quite. But I was created by the same desires by a younger Ventus. She literally fucked me to death, think I mentioned that once, anyway, ironically that left me unable to directly fulfill her physical needs, but worse, I think a part of her always loathed what she had done to me, making her hesitate to ever come truly close to me again.. Bah, listen to me, blabbering like a poltergeist. The ghost huffed.

        Cautionary tale, take a breather after a few days of fucking, else you might find yourself unable to. Heh.

        Sylvies musing was still a little exhausted by the afterglow of an orgasm felt through the eager elf-slaves body... though she certainly did not complain, the presence in Dasyras mind radiating the ghostly equivalent to a content sigh, rather than answering her sister-wifes question, as Dasyra once more tasted a hint and memory of Ventus upon the cum, just a promise of the real thing to come..

        Heh. Knifes edge. I get it. Because of the sword. The ghost enthused.

        Dasyra executed her plan to approach the port town, her elven-memory recalling the rough layout of the town she had visited several decades ago. It had grown, as humans tended to amazingly achieve. Hey, so. Feel like I should bring this up before we head on into the town. While most of them are jokes, perhaps it'd be smart to drop the sword somewhere save before getting in? You know, just in case a few of the heroes actually detect the -overwhelming fucking evil- coming from your sword. I'd not be worried about anyone nabbing it.. they'd just turn into a ghoul or something. .. more bothersome if you leave it anywhere for long, really I mean, you have the body, your call Either way could be risky I guess... A mental shrugging left Dasyra back to her musings.

        An elven settlement would have a tree or two more. Humans made up what they lacked in time by being proactive.Interestingly, there were no town-guards barring her way. Nor, infact, seemed there to be much military presence, the first armed person Dasyra noticed, in the distance, seemed to be an adventurer like herself. Also, the town was so alive, it bothered her on an instinctual level.. just like it'd bother a living wandering among skeletons, not a direct fear or disdain, just a subtle aversion of something, well, now different than her.

        The guild-hall itself seemed to have been renovated, build up, infact. As Dasyra arrived, strictly sticking to the shadows to avoid the rising morning sun, there was quite the buzzing of activity, several armored adventurers and robed mages wandering in and out. And another strange thing, a bunch of children were crowding around the entrance, until tentatively shooed by a robed noble, each presenting a piece of paper for the heroes of the guild to.. note down something on?


        About then was, when Dasyra first ran into someone actively trying to stop her.. by slightly tugging at her cloak, of all things.
        It seemed to be a young girl.. or an efeminate boy, they were just at the age were it was kind of hard to tell, smiling a hopeful smile up at Dasyra.
        Spoiler


        "Hey! Hey.. you're one of the heroes yes?" The girl(presumambly) fidgeted a little, pushing out a small quill and a piece of paper at Dasyra. The paper had a variety of names in different writing styles: 'Argon Shadowblade 'Wildfire Meya' (This one was underlined with a scorch mark) "I can tell because you're all secretive and shadowy and.. wooosh! .. most folks like the super shiny and powerful heroes, but I think shadowpower is way cooler! So, are you Lady Arki'la the drow-blade mistress? Nono.." She rubbed her chin, as if reciting something well learned. "Lady Arki'la never has weapons, you see, can make weapons out of the shadows! She's so cool. Wait, I know! You're miss Midnight, the secretive shadow-mage genius and one of the eight.. oooh everyone will be so jealous of your signature!" The girl bounced a little on the spot, nudging the paper closer. At least no one else was bothering Dasyra, for now. This all had to be a recent human invention, sure, some of the higher class adventurers, those just barely above Dasyra's abilities back then, had become more or less famous, with townsfolk cheering for them, but certainly not to this extend. Bwahaha, here's an idea. Call yourself 'Dame Dasyra the tentacle-vanquisher' Sylvie bemusedly suggested.

        (That joke totally justifies me skipping from the finished naughties to storybits. *cough cough*)
        Last edited by Pervy; 3 weeks ago.
        Play my naughty games here:

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          "Oh, that's what she did to me too," Dasyra replied to Sylvie.

          "I wonder if that's part of the deal that binds us to her? Dying with sexual desire and submission on our minds. We need to get you a sexy body to possess. One that can please the Mistress alongside me. I think you'd look nice skinriding a drow. Fufufu...~"

          ---

          Much later, Dasyra came to the edge of the town and gave consideration to the presence of the evil sword that she held in her shadowcrafted glove. She'd been wrestling with the problem of what to do with it even before Sylvie piped up and made the decision come to the forefront.

          "I am loathe to put this aside. Even if it is well protected - it is my Mistress' phylactery and the key to all my hopes. Moreover, it is a craft of evil, and it has a dark sentience as well. I will bury it, and remember its placement, but I know its presence will blight the land. We must not be overly long from it, or the forces of good will be alerted to it one way or the other."

          The dark ranger found a suitable landmark and proceeded to bury the blade. She felt confident in being able to get back to it, and resolved to not be long in the city, which reeked of life and unnerved her. She could objectively appreciate the beauty of the living, but the nature of their quickened blood, their warm flesh, their positive aura, felt like running a nail over a glass mirror when she got too close.

          She hung to the shadows and made her way to the old Adventurer's Guild, which brought back memories of her mortal life. It had changed a bit, and now this crowd of onlookers and eager signature gatherers made her feel a bit confused - and perhaps out of touch. She recalled the days when the Adventurer's Guild was not so appreciated, and when to be among its number was to raise eyebrows. Often the question was - why couldn't you lot get real jobs? But she supposed that it was only a matter of time until the public realised what good could be achieved from slaying evil monsters.

          Dasyra glanced down at the girl who had found her and was proffering a quill and ink in her direction.

          "I am none of those that you've named, child. I am Dasyra, the Eternal Song in Darkness. I will not make your friends jealous just yet... my quest is not yet complete. But should I succeed, you might take some happiness in our meeting. I have been adventuring through the Underdark for many years now, and I am seeking old companions. Do you know of Cratus the Swift? Del Foeshatter? Maybe even Purnoy Billnip? I would imagine they have been retired now, but a knowledgeable girl like you might know of them and where they might be?"

          Comment


            Can we call it something other than 'skinriding' Also, while you look for a body, try to find something soulless, you know, like a lawyer.
            The ghost mused, giving the mental equivalent of a shrug at Dasyras decision for the sword, besides a playful:
            Heh, X marks the spot?

            "Eternal song in darkness.. Hmnnn." Oh, and I'm Sylvie, the ghostly maiden of unseen.. mysteries! The girl pondered, looking at Dasyra with big, curious eyes, withdrawing her signature-booklet before peering up. "Well of course I know Del Foeshatter! He was one of the eight... there!" The girl enthusiastically pointed over the marketplace to a new seeming statue, depicting a dragon towering over a group of eight humanoid figures in a variety of getups.
            "No idea of the other names..." The girl seemed to think hard, pondering and rocking back and forth briefly. "Hmnnn.. I guess they could be old heroes? Wait, does that mean you're friends with Del Foeshatter? Oooh! So cool! It's super hard to get his autograph." She nodded. "He retired.. uhh.. like before I was born. Is super old, but, did you know that dwarfs, gnomes and elves can get faaar older than humans? Siblien told me that she's a quarter-elf which is why she'll get to be older than me but I'm pretty sure she's lying because her ears are not pointy at all and I'm better at climbing trees!" The talkative girl informed.
            Play my naughty games here:

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              We can call it possession if you're not so keen on my slang. And a soulless body? Sounds like we'd need some powerful necromancy in order to give you a good body to work with. And I'd personally prefer to do such things to someone deserving of having their soul forcibly displaced. So maybe a lawyer... but a drow matriarch sounds better. Fufu... maybe that Vara bitch. Payback would be nice. Ah, but there's time for that later. On to more pressing matters.~

              ---

              Dasyra smirked down at the child and let one of her long ears poke out of her red hood.

              "Friends with Del? I suppose we got along well enough when we adventured together those many years ago. I am a full blooded high-elf, you see. Although I've had some interesting magic cast on me. Hence my odd appearance. Hope I don't frighten you. Back then, I was known as Dasyra Sunsong. My true name, in Common speak. I'd like to speak with Del again, I'm hoping to help him complete one last quest, even in his old age. Could really add to his legacy. If you could point me in the right direction to see him... maybe I could acquire a signature from him? You seem to like collecting them. I'll throw in one from myself for posterity. Who knows? Maybe one day it'll be worth a lot?"

              She winked, and giggled her now trademark shadow-echo.

              In her mind she answered Sylvie.

              More like the Ghostly Maiden of Unending Commentary~ But I'm trying to blend in here. Besides... I like how it sounds.

              Comment


                Or someone that sold their soul to a devil or whatever. Actually easy to posess, though, often Devils arrange for a quick death of whoever was dumb enough, so they can collect the soul proper. Vara was the slave-trader merchant right? Well, you sure aren't afraid of a challenge. Sylvie pondered in the backround.

                The girl pondered, looking at the undead elf. "Ooh you traveled with one of the eight? What was he like!" She cheered, the innocent child seeming more or less uncaring of Dasyras apperance. "Hmnn. Well.. I dunno you but you seem sufficently heroic.." The girl observed, looking Dasyra up and down, handing out her notebook again. "Alright. I'll allow it!" She grinned, generously, presenting a mostly empty page before tipping her chin.
                "Well, Del retired.. I think I can figure out where to, but, I was actually waiting for Miss Midnight of the eight. Hrmnnn... Oh I know! You stay here and collect her autograph for me, and I'll go ask my friend about Del Foehammer. She's really into dwarven heroes because she's a shorty herself but don't tell her that, so she'd know." The girl nodded, while Sylvie couldn't help but add a playful stinging remark of: And thus, the eternal song in the darkness waited patiently for the little girls autograph, besting the terrible crowded streets mayhemous roads! Will she succeed in finding the name of the great heroine she searches, or will she surely perish!?
                If Dasyra didn't protest quickly enough, she'd find herself holding quill and notebook of the girls, as she bounced off, leaving Dasyra on hero-watching duty..
                Last edited by Pervy; 2 weeks ago.
                Play my naughty games here:

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                  Dasyra took the girl's book and quill and in a practiced, flowing elven script wrote out her name "Dasyra the Eternal Song in Darkness" on the mostly empty page, along with the message "When you love, love truly, so that even in death you shall not part."

                  As she did so, she quipped to the ghost in her mind.

                  Oh please, we were going to watch these living heroes from the shadows *anyway.* Better some living child go find Del than me just creeping on dwarven retirees. That's a good way to earn a hammer to the face. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to come across as a harmless, inquisitive undead elf rather than a malevolent stalker bitch trying to unleash a death knight back upon the world - however noble my quest, it may be difficult to stomach unless I have time enough to explain my good intentions.

                  Dasyra took up a spot in a shadowed alcove and watched the throng of the living cheer on their heroes, doing her best to spot someone who'd fit the little girl's description of Miss Midnight.

                  Comment


                    Dasyra's observation of the hero-worshipping humans (and a few halflings and half-elves, now that she had time to look) was just a little hindered by the.. liveliness of everyone, ever so subtly distracting her from enjoying how much the heroes guild had blossomed. That, and while she waited, Sylvie kept her entertained by musing: So what are you, because you aren't harmless, did you just call yourself a bitch?

                    The girl, thinking back, had been too busy swooning to give her all that much of an explanation, just someone.. shadowy that could be confused with her? Luckily, Dasyra didn't have to guess too much, as a commotion at the guild-entrance attracted her attention. Two women, literally different as night and day, both walking out of the building, one demanding immediate attention, her blonde hair almost glittering in the light of day:
                    Spoiler

                    She had blonde hair and a confident smile, waving to the crowd, while also subtly directing it to part to make way for them, cheerily enthusing: "Wooo woo everyone, pipe down, yes, Night and Day are heading out again, yes, we are going to kick evil butt! Which posteriors we are after? Why you'll have to wait for us to return and tell the tale for that!"
                    The other woman seemed -very- content, being silent, remaining in the proverbial shadow of the talkative one, with a calm, if determined expression.
                    Spoiler

                    Well, she remained silent.. until her eyes fell upon Dasyra, leaning over to the blonde one she whispered... and pointed at the undead elf, with a commentary from Sylvie. Uh-oh. Busted. Good we didn't bring the sword along.. The other hero tilted her head and then walked directly towards Dasyra, grinning, and in a far too jovial tone declaring:

                    "You there! Undead creature! You got some guts coming to the Hall of heroes! Sister Midnight here thinks that there must be a reason for you daring such, for no one would be so foolish as to try sneaking up on the heroes. You know what I think?" The blonde heroine asked, pushing her arms into her side, and continuing on without giving Dasyra much of a chance to anser. "I think talk is easy! To truly know someones heart, you have to meet them on the fields of battle!" "Can we not?" Midnight asked, but her flamboyant companion had already drawn her weapon, despite her sisters slight sigh. "You're making a scene again sister.." "Only a scene of juuustice!" Her companion cheered, drawing a finely crafted rapier and twirling it, in a picture-perfect pose, which caused several of the bystanders to look over curiously.. pretty much the opposite of what Dasyra wanted. Eh, the loud ones are usually pushovers.
                    "Prepare yourself! If there is evil in your heart, you shall fall here, today and with great regret, for you face I, Lady Radiant Dawn of the eight heroes!" The blonde one declared with such enthusiasm that several of the folks watching the scene began cheering without a question, which the heroine responded to with a ceremonial bow and the addition of: "There is no need for you to speak, by the clash of our blades I shall learn your intentions!" Willfully ignoring her sisters slightly annoyed comment of: "That's not how this works.." It seemed unless Dasyra had a good idea for slowing down the dramatically posing duelist she had a fight on her hand, right here and now..

                    (Radiant Dawn Initiative: 25)
                    Last edited by Pervy; 2 weeks ago.
                    Play my naughty games here:

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                      Dasyra had no intention of letting Radiant Dawn get a swing in. The space between her charging at her and where Dasyra had been watching from in the alleyway was enough so that even despite a quicker start, (Initiative = 22 for Dasyra), the undead elf intended to shadow step away while the blonde was still in the process of charging at her. She moved instead to a shadow that was nearest to Miss Midnight, and walked toward her without her bow or sword drawn, instead wielding only the little girl's signature book and the quill.

                      "I promised one of your fans that I'd get a signature. Not really sure what it's for but... here, use this page." She let the page open to the same one that she had just signed. She then looked over and saw Dawn turn about and begin to charge back in her direction.

                      "I'm a former companion of Del Foeshatter. Name's Dasyra. Currently I'm under a curse. I'd really enjoy not having to fight anyone. Little help, oh lady of shadows?"

                      Dasyra shadow stepped away to a nearby nook on the dark side of one of the columns of the adventurer's guild, and called out to Radiant Dawn.

                      "Being undead doesn't make me a baddie. I'm trying to save the world too!" Dasyra was trying to be serious, but that eternal giddiness in her made her laugh at this absurd game of cat and mouse and her infectious, unnerving laughter echoed out from around the square.

                      Comment


                        Spoiler


                        "'tis not so easy! Knights Challenge!" The blonde proclaimed, pointing at Dasyra. (DC 16 will or be forced to do nothing but move towards her!)
                        However, if Dasyra resisted or not, the signature book had Miss Dawn raise her brow.
                        "Well, that proves it. I doubt an evil undead would be collecting signatures for little girls, now would they?" "Harumnn.." "Excuse my sisters.. directness. She has more heart than mind sometimes.""Hrmnn .. alright, disperse everyone. Nothing to see!" The woman commanded, with a suprisingly effective influence on the crowd as she shrugged and crossed her arms, eyeing Dasyra suspiciously. Still, for now, it seemed there was no need for further shadow-walking.
                        "If you had read the books I recommended, you'd know not all undead are evil and this one lacks a lichs unholy aura, also, considering it's midday and her composure, she's obviously a Baelnorn." Lady midnight picked up the book, signing in elegant writing, commenting off-sidedly. "That said, no Baelnorn would refer to themselfs as being cursed. I read the act is considered one of honorable sacrifice, bestowed by an entire elven clan in times of desperate need and even more rarely, by divine grace. So that curse is either your way of shortening any questioning or you refer to another curse, so, I wonder..." "Hold on, hold your horses, skeletal or not! Did you say trying to save the world? What threat would be so dire that the whole world could be affected?" Radiant Dawn interjected her more silent sister. "Also, stop being giddy, lest I reconsider smiting you, you scare the kids!"
                        "I do concur with her questioning. For a Baelnorn to wander the world, something dire would have to be amiss."Midnight commented, pointing with the quill at Dasyra and keeping a hold of her autograph, symbolically keeping it hostage while she watched Dasyra with a calm expression. Ugh. Don't trust the living. Just make up an exucse to be done with them and get what we want.
                        Play my naughty games here:

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                          Dasyra looked at the knight as she issued her compulsion, tilted her head to the side... and did her best to not show the struggle she had internally to square off against the woman. Fortunately, she did have the willpower to resist the command, and stood her ground long enough for the darker sister to bring things to a halt.

                          "That's not true!" Dasyra held up a wagging finger. "I didn't scare the children! I was even approached by the child who gave me this book. I was trying to be polite and not show myself until you pointed me out. Talk about starting a panic, Miss Dawn."

                          She turned towards Miss Midnight.

                          "A Baelnorn? I'm not really sure what I am... but the nature of my current state is... erm... complicated. The short version is that I needed to try to save someone's soul and circumvent a lich's ill will - and the only way I could do that involved asking a goddess to grant me a form of undeath immune to the lich's evil spell."

                          She then turned back to Miss Dawn.

                          "What sort of threat? Aberrations flowing out of the Positive Plane of Energy. Mutated monstrosities whose endless growing potential will, if not curbed, wipe out all civilization as we know it. You haven't noticed it yet because it's occurring in the depths of the Underdark. A huge rent in the fabric of reality."

                          She eyed both sisters.

                          "So far, only my... commander, has been holding back the invasion. She was once an exalted champion of the elven people, a holy warrior, not unlike yourself, Miss Dawn. But she was undone by a lich's spell and turned into a Death Knight, and several days ago, her physical form was destroyed in an ambush by the invaders. I am here because I have discovered a way to release her soul from the lich's curse without destroying her. I intend to use this opportunity to purify this fallen hero's soul, because I believe she is the best and possibly only one capable of leading a victorious assault against the planar invaders."

                          She shrugged.

                          "So... I used some portals, got back to the surface and decided to visit my old adventurer's guild. I used to be based out of this place a long time ago. I quested with Del Foeshatter, and was actually intending to go question him, because he's faced the lich's handiwork before."

                          She held up her hands open palmed to the sky.

                          "And here we are now. So. Does that get this undead ranger a pass for the time being?"

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                            Spoiler


                            "Eh..." Radiant Dawn looked over and shrugged, unafraid to respond.: "Huh. Yeah, my bad I guess.. Let me herd folks about. Most are easy distracted by promises of autographs.. alright everyone, nothing to see here- well, me and sis to see, but just wait until we come back.. Oooh the tales I will tell you! If you all lead us wander out in peace first!" Then she cheerfully busied herself wandering over to direct the crowd, laughing merrily, causing a subtle eyeroll from Midnight.
                            "Hmn. You're better than most at praying it seems. Could you try asking for moderation for my beloved sister?" Midnight commented. "Hah. Never! Heard that! Also, did you say aberrations? Hrmnn.. that sounds serious. Ever heard of that, Sis?" "I can't tell. I should review my scriptures. But for something to cause such a rend of positive energy, an equal balance of negative energy must have been lost first."
                            "She's saying someone must have kicked serious undead butt. Sounds good by m.. eerr.. heh. no offense." "On principle, yes." "Oooh. Heard that sister? It's great storytelling!" Radiant Dawn enthused and tried to hug an arm around Dasyra, for a moment, adding, only if allowed to: "For my hero and protector, I gave everything! So romantic.." She sniffed slightly, but quickly turned about.

                            "Does it get you a pass? Hah, of course! We're not going to pass up on that, are we sister?" Radiant Dawn flexed. "I suspected you name-dropping Del was just to facilitate a distraction at first, but telling of him so casually... also. Dasyra song, the name I think I saw when I reviewed the guild-records a-""And! That means, seeing as you are an ex-comrade, we're honor-bound to help out! Midnight!" "I feel like we ought to gather more information before taking action. Also, there's still the matter of our current mission a-""And we'll help you out after we dealt with whoever was responsible. Don't you worry, Together as Night and Day we are like.. the second strongest of the Heroes guild! Just tell us.. eh eh..let's face it.. her, here, were roughly in the Underdark to kick evil butt at. Been waiting to go there, frankly. Wasn't there a report on that too, recently?"
                            "Some Drow abductions, nothing unusual, regrettably." "Some! More than one reason to take action then. Well then, go help her out sis!"
                            "Can't." "Huh?" Midnight held up the notebook. "Waiting."
                            "Hooh.. I thought Fans always bothered you! Glad you saw the error of your ways!" Radiant Dawn enthused, slapping the back of Midnight, causing her to slightly stumble.

                            Only a few moments after the two, well, basically, Radiant Dawn, had decided to help out, the girl.. well, she appeared, but she shily hid, fearful to approach Lady Midnight.. You know, if half of the respect they show those people is deserved, they could make for strong allies...
                            "Ah.. ah.. uhm.." The girl squirmed, only to be approached by Midnight once the quick-thinking raven haired beauty had made the connection between the two, pretty much freezing up, with big eyes, as Midnight approached her, handing back her book, giving an awkward shrugging smile, and, almost as comfortable as the girl, seemingly, returned to Dasyra, holding out her hand.
                            "I'll take you to Del, although I caution you, cause no trouble. Del was already old when we banded together to become the heroes of eight. I was but a young, marginally talented girl, my sister.. well." Midnight smiled subtly. "Pretty much the same." "Heard that too! Always keep your inner child alive!" "Take my hand. As Dawn would say.. 'Time to show you how it's really done. Shadow Walk.'" Midnight said, accompanied by the cheerful paladin showing her tongue. If Dasyra obliged, she'd find herself pulled into a shadow, and through it, quite similiar to her technique, if slower, though that also ment Midnight could move to distant locations, as she verified, once they arrived..

                            In a small hall, hammered out of the stone. There was a distant clinging of hammers on iron, the soothing music of a dwarven home.. subtly distracting, to Dasyras elven more than undead side. "You've traveled a few miles almost straight to the east, to the Foeshatter clan's holding. If you are an old friend, you will need little announcement. I shall leave now. We have a quest to solve and I don't like to see my sister do things on her own. She's a force for good, that needs slight.. adjustments in her trajectory, lest she try to storm into hell and free every last soul she can find until vanquished." Midnight sighed ever so subtly and stepped into the shadows again.

                            That left Dasyra pretty much alone in a dwarven hold, her undead side not minding the stale air or lack of sunlight, a look ahead revealing what looked like a personal chamber of an important dwarf (something about the expensive looking decorations gave it away). Stepping closer, Dasyra would.. struggle a lot to recognize one of the oldest dwarfs she had ever seen.
                            Spoiler

                            Old dwarfs weren't cared for and taken in like humans did for their old, nor did they try to take things easier like elfish elders, no, a dwarf only felt truly alive when they had -something- to do and this one was brooding over some sort of excavation maps, with a variety of what looked to Dasyra to be rocks and more rocks before him on the table, seeming deep in thought.
                            Del Foeshatter hadn't been -young- when Dasyra had traveled with him, she distinctly recalled hints of white in his beard, but now he was positively ancient... if clearly still alive. The question was, if she struggled to recognize him, how would he do?
                            "Huh? 's that you, Svenson?" The dwarf tilted his head. Dasyra wasn't sure if he was blind, but the way he moved indicated that at the very least his eyesight wasn't the best anymore..

                            Perception Dc 20:
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                              Dasyra, The Eternal Song in Shadow (TESIS) - Heroic Business



                              "I'm not sure that's the sort of request my Goddess would care about," Dasyra replied drolly to Midnight, as the over the top paladin went on and on about justice. Dawn's desire to hang an arm around Dasyra did have the unsettling quality of a living being getting to close, but her pleasant looks and genuine compliments about Dasyra's romantic ties to Ventus did put the dark ranger at ease.

                              "I'm sure you two would do the same for each other if ever an ancient evil were to ensorcel your spirit," she shrugged. Then she waved at the little girl once she appeared and beckoned her over, though Miss Midnight was ultimately the one to return the book. The girl's signature book had proved to be an excellent means of disarming these rather intimidating heroes, so all in all, Dasyra felt well justified in having approached the girl.

                              "Sigh. If I had wanted to cause trouble, there were better ways to do so than to walk into a crowd of heroes and ask for autographs," She responded dryly to Midnight's advice, though she giggled to show that there were no hard feelings. She presumed that Midnight would appreciate the humor in a way that might go over Dawn's head.

                              "Oh, you humans~. You're still both quite young and extremely attractive too. I can only imagine you have to beat away suitors with sticks. But I take your point about Del. I *have* changed in appearance quite a bit. I was a blonde high elf - now look at me. Buuuut I suppose if it takes me a bit to convince him, at least his old age will prevent him from getting too many licks in on me." She tittered at the amusing mental imagery of a cranky old dwarf flinging priceless magical weapons at her.

                              Soon enough, Miss Midnight had shadow walked her to the home of Del Foeshatter, using a more long ranged version of Dasyra's innate ability.

                              "Thanks for the ride. Hope to see you and your sister again soon.~" Dasyra said, her mind straying to the thought of the two sisters, naked and bound up, with Ventus and herself deciding what delightful sex act to do next. Shame they were alive, they would make excellent undead. Beauty like that ought to be preserved...

                              Waving the idle thought away, and certain that Sylvie would comment on it anyway, Dasyra turned her focus to that of striking up a conversation with her old companion.

                              ---

                              Dasyra knocked along the wall to announce her presence, though she didn't yet step from the shadows.

                              "The years have changed us both, Del Foeshatter. I hope your mind is still as sharp as ever, My name is Dasyra. You would have known me as Dasyra Sunsong."

                              She would wait for his response, and then add, "I would like to warn you, I have changed quite a lot from my youth - even moreso than yourself, I dare say. You would have known me as a plucky high elf ranger, but I was dragged into the Underdark by some drow and... well... I sort of died. So I'm something called a Baelnorn now... that means benign, good-spirited undead. I'm here because I need your help, and I'm offering you the chance to complete an abandoned quest that you had from long ago."

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                                "Ancient evils? Haven't met an evil I couldn't show the light of justice!" Radiant Dawn had enthused, squeezing Dasyras shoulder with a strong arm before releasing her from the unrequested half-hug, whereas Midnight remained the characteristically silent type, not for a lack of listening, it seemed, only subtly raising a brow at Dasyras joking. She did smile subtly when called attractive.

                                "There's a compliment I had not expected to hear from an undead. Luckily, my sister easily.. distracts people off of me." "Ohoho! I like people flirting with me. Brings a bit of cheeryness into the world! That said, I have a vow of chastity." "No you don't." "Do too.. for almost two days now!" Another eyeroll, accompanied by Dawn, not too subtly, pose-grinning at Dasyra.

                                After the shadowwalk, Midnight raised her brow perceptively. "Everything alright? You're looking at me.. a.. ahem. I should be going." She said, obviously more shy than her extroverted sister. Sylvie remained suspiciously hushy, almost as if not to attract the attention of the elite-heroes.

                                Spoiler


                                "Huh? Dasyra? OH! Oh yes, yes. Of course I remember yer! I'll not forget an old ally. Ho ho." The old dwarf smiled. "How's my favourite gnome-illusionist!" Yeah.. No such luck about his mind.. thus is the fate of the living.. Seroiusly, no idea why they don't all strive to exist eternally in undeath. "Come on in.. have some ale.. wait, where's the ale.. hrmnn.. I'll call for ale... they insist I don't get it myself anymore. Me back, ye see. Back's a pain, but you gnomes age so much slower, one could be envious. eh eh. Where are you, my eyes aren't the best anymore.."

                                The dwarf tilted his head and pondered as the elf spoke on. "Plucky huh.. hold on, hold on, my hearing ain't the best anymore, I thought you said you died." He slammed his chest. "This old thing is still beating, so if you're dead, you can't be talking to me. Ho-ho. You gnomes and your weird humor always! I'll have you know, I still got me axe here!" He pulled out a jeweled.. and quite impressive looking axe, grinning. "It's a weapon that can cut even into the afterlife, so when death comes for me, I'll give him a good fight. ho ho ho.. ach.. ach.. cchh..." The old dwarfs laughter ended in a cough, which was interrupted by Sylvie, sounding quite nervous. Th.. that axe.. is that? L.. let's leave. This guy is clearly crazy and senile and whatever else. No use to us. Th.. these hero things are nothing but trouble anyway. No, I'm not scared of ghost-touch weapons at all!
                                "Was smithed by Dragran, good lad. Married a stonehammer clan gal though, now, not saying they aren't respectable, but I once fougt with a stonehammer and he had the nastiest habit of not paying for his ale and.. .. what was I talking about again?" He pondered. "Oh yes, Dragran, so he made me this axe, didn't even ask for gold. I told him good work needs good payment, but he insisted I earned it. Tchk. Do I look like I need handouts.. oh you got no mead on you. Old friends need an ale to talk!" He coughed and, slowly and cautiously, wandered over to the edge of the room, where a rope, going into the ceiling hung.
                                Last edited by Pervy; 2 weeks ago.
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