Rastislav
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Arc 9 Chapter XXVII: Gnomed
🕑 Added 2025-10-28 21:13:48 +0000 UTCAaaand big D returns once more!
Previous chap hath been edited.
I heavily recommend going through at least the final bits of last chapter again because the start of this one will not make sense otherwise.
That aside, big ole' cheers for our local pyromaniac for giving this a quick once over.
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(General POV)
The ruined Underdark village smelled of fear and despair as the Deep Gnomes were pushed up against each other by their Duergar captors. Such was the efficiency of their imprisonment that many of them felt the bones of their fellows jabbing into their flesh, making breathing difficult, and moving with any real purpose an impossibility.
"Calm." Their leader whispered soothingly to another "We will get out of this yet."
His shivering fellow sniffled, but mere words were not enough to hold his fear.
The grey dwarves surrounding them jeered and laughed cruelly, their leader standing atop a crate and looking over the Gnomes with an imperious gaze while his assistant noted down the value of each and every fresh piece of property.
In a small corner of the campsite, secluded from the noise of the rest, a Drow male was going over a ledger, attended to by a female Duergar openly wearing iconography of the Cult of the Absolute.
"How much longer, Thrinn?" The elf did not bother hiding his sneer as he spoke to the woman without looking at her.
"Supplies are still being loaded, True Soul." She said with a deferential bow of her head "An hour more, two at most, and we will be ready to set out."
"Finally." True Soul Nere muttered "General Ketheric does not want any further delays. Are you certain the Deep Gnomes will be enough for the excavation?"
"By themselves?" The dwarven woman asked before letting out a small snort "Absolute, no!" She shook her head "But their clan is known for making blasting powder, and they will be parted from their secrets easily enough."
"Yes, blasting powder would speed our way..." Nere hummed, momentarily considering the Gnomish reputation for creativity as a future problem before promptly dismissing it.
They would be too afraid to try anything even with the materials for blasting powder, and he only really needed them for clearing the way.
He would get rid of them easily enough afterwards.
"Very well." He hummed approvingly "We will use the blasting powder as you recommend."
However the expected simpering response never came, and Nere felt an onrush of anger at his pet's lack of respect.
He rounded on her-
Only to find Thrinn sprawled on the ground, gutted like a fish and leaking enough blood to paint the black dirt of the Underdark.
And standing above her was-
Nere met the unfamiliar elf's eyes, and his world disappeared.
Red, red, so much red, fire and ash, needles in his brain, his blessing wiggling within his head, a hammer upon his mind-
He flinched away with a pained groan, feeling viscous fluid flowing down his face and smelling the distinct tang of blood in the air.
"My." His assailant's voice rang out with the calm gravitas of a bored sovereign "How resilient."
Nere felt a wave of panic strike him, and his body reacted by flooding his veins with aggression. He screamed at the terror before him, whipping out his rapier while focusing his barely coherent mind into weaving his signature piercing psychic assault into his thrust.
Never in his life did his move as quickly as he did in that moment.
And it was all completely and utterly futile.
With ease that could only ever be described as contemptuous, the other elf slapped both the rapier and mindlance away from him, his other hand grasping Nere's head in an imperceptible blur of movement.
"Stay still, worm." The voice cut through the air again "I need to test something."
Nere's eyes widened as he found himself unable to move, panic rising in his heart as his body simply flopped onto the floor, kneeling before the being that had defeated him so easily.
He searched the area desperate for any way out, and to his rising hope, he saw an elf he could recognize, a fellow Drow he met at Moonrise!
'Help me, sister!' His twitching gaze begged.
The noblewoman did not so much as twitch in response.
And that was all the time Nere would be given as he felt his mind unraveling again, before the wriggling in his brain became so so much worse.
The last thing he heard before he was turned completely insensate was an annoyed harrumph and a bored "Devious little shits, aren't they?"
(Reyvin's POV)
"Have you found a solution?" My pet Drow asked.
"Awfully optimistic of you." I drawled, and shoved the elf-turned-vegetable away from me before turning to address her fully "Safe extraction is possible, but I will need a focusing tool if you don't want to end up like this one." I lazily pointed behind me.
She frowned "Finding a specific artifact like that will be difficult."
"Find?" I quirked an eyebrow "Relying on luck to get our hands on what we need would be stupid. I am going to build one."
Her frown deepened but in consideration instead of concern "You are certain you are capable of it?"
And to my utmost surprise the question was a genuine one and not some kind of dig at me.
Ignoring my own bafflement I shrugged and simply pointed at my armor and made the runes visible "Quite certain, yes."
It took her a moment to compute what she saw, and the almost panicked widening of the usually composed Drow's eyes was quite satisfying to behold.
"Best we make sure the others did not fuck up." I waved for her to follow "Come."
And lo and behold there were no complaints.
-
The Duergar campsite was now the scene of a slaughter. The grey dwarves' bodies lay scattered all over the place, bleeding and sundered under a combined assault of my followers, and Shadowheart's new protective detail of automatons.
And of course, our newest recruit, the goodest boi in the whole Underdark.
That being a massive land shark currently feasting on the bodies of the fallen with all the glee of a dog being thrown a bone.
The dumbass tried ambushing us while we were traveling here, and was quickly shown the stick by yours truly.
It did not take long to teach it who is boss and now I had a fresh mount to haul me about.
Needless to say, the Duergar had no idea what hit them until it was well beyond too late for them to do anything about it.
A fitting fate for a bunch of slavers.
Shame only the Drow appeared to be one of the 'True Souls' though, one lobotomy a proper experiment did not make.
Leaving that line of thought for later, I approached the slowly unhuddling pile of Gnomes currently looking at my newest pet like it was something straight from a nightmare.
The spiders I could understand, but shitting on my shark boi was just plain rude!
Keeping my righteous fury contained (For the moment) I reached the Gnomes and my other followers "Who leads here?" I asked.
With admirable boldness, a man dressed in bright red working clothes that were a degree better than that of his fellow prisoners stepped forward, though not before reassuring the others a couple of times.
Terrified little shits were loyal at least, as he had to convince them to let him pass and stand before me.
"Hail, friend." He raised a tiny arm in greeting "Beldron Ironhand. Steward of the clan."
"Reyvin Dagoth." I bobbed my head ever so slightly in greeting before giving his people a quick once over "And before the rest of you can panic, I assure you I have no intention on keeping you imprisoned."
About a dozen Gnomes deflated.
"You have our thanks." Beldron gave me a quick incline of the head "Are you fighting the cult?"
"The Absolutists?" I quirked an eyebrow just in case and seeing him nod I hummed in a vaguely positive manner "Their plans offend me, and so they must die." I ignored the chill that went down their spines at those words "Was your capture targeted or did the Duergar simply grab who they could?"
"They were hired to hunt us by." Beldron exhaled slowly, hesitating only briefly before answering "This isn't the first time the cult has gone after our clan. We only managed to get away from them the first time when our leader sacrificed himself to hold them back."
"Yes, I can see how a bunch of fanatics would find your explosive powders useful." I said with a dark chuckle, ignoring the Gnome's widening eyes.
Little shit was hoping to hide that detail from me, was he?
Dumbasses probably considered it some kind of revered clan secret of theirs or something equally ridiculous.
How... cute.
If I wanted gunpowder I would have just invented it decades ago.
"That aside." I raised a hand to forestall whatever stupid response he was about to throw at my feet "Has your leader fallen or has he merely been captured?"
"They wouldn't kill Wulbren." Beldron firmly shook his head "He holds too many secrets for that."
"As expected." I hummed in agreement "And it just so happens that I know exactly where their local base of operations is located."
Both fake Minthara's report and Nere's mind referred to a secluded location known as Moonrise, one that just so happened to be positioned between here and Baldur's Gate.
The Gnome's eyes widened but the sheer convenience made him suspicious and his gaze turned cautious. His shoulders squared and his jaw tensed for a moment but we both knew he had no cards to play here, and so all he could do in the end was keep down his sigh of defeat and ask "What do you propose?"
"Join us on the way there." I spread my arms with the offer "There is strength in numbers and I hear the area around Moonrise is terrible to traverse on your own. My followers get your support on the way, and you get theirs, and when we arrive we can rely on each other to strike the cult down and free your leader while we are at it. A rather elegant solution, no?"
A white haired Gnome woman scoffed quietly, but not quietly enough that I didn't hear her "Bastard probably just wants to get his hands on our runepowder, like everyone else."
"My parents were happily married, thank you very much." I spoke clearly over the low murmur of the others, making every single gnome suddenly very aware these knife ears weren't just for show.
And as intended, my words only served to pressure Beldron further.
After all, what if I took offense to such a blatant insult? Especially after I claimed the Absolutists must die because they offended me.
My how I enjoy it when the pieces fall together.
"Very well." The Ironhand leader nodded before the girl could "So long as you don't demand our secrets we have no issues with working with you."
I was tempted to rip their focus on their powders apart but that would only serve my momentary pettiness, and my ultimate goal was to help these people out, in my own way.
"Excellent." I clapped my hands "We have set up a base in an old temple of Selune on the surface, there is a passage a few hours of walking this way." I pointed in the general direction of the fort "How much time will you need to prepare to leave?"
"We will need to see what supplies we can take from the Duergar." Beldron says "But my guess is a few hours at the least."
"Make sure to arm yourselves properly." I added "Their heavier armors may be useless to you but I'm guessing you can still make use of chainmail and lighter armors with a bit of creativity."
The Gnome inclines his head in agreement, turning around and barking out orders to his following with surprising energy for someone who was enslaved mere minutes ago.
"There is one thing." He speaks up as his people get to work "A few of us fled when we were attacked. We made plans in case any of this happened and we agreed to regroup in the local Myconid village."
"I don't mind a small detour." I agreed easily enough, tugging at my beard lightly in consideration a moment later "I am curious about the mushroom people as well, so it is a win win."
"You have my thanks." The Gnome says.
I just wave him off before a detail violently shoved itself to the forefront of my mind "By the way, one of these escapees wouldn't happen to be a fellow going by the name of Barcus?"
Beldron's eyes widened "Barcus Wroot?"
"Well, my familiar didn't care to ask his surname when he saved him from the goblins." I shrugged "But he is one of your kind, and he wears the same style of clothing as the rest of you."
"Then it is probably him." The Ironhand Gnome nodded, his gratitude towards everything I'd done so far slowly outweighing his paranoia "Do you know where he is now?"
"With the rest of my followers." I waved his concern down "You will meet up soon enough."
"That is heartening to hear." He exhaled heavily before nodding to himself a few times "I should probably help my people along now. They have been through a lot."
"By all means." I hummed.
My more permanent following were currently busying themselves with looting the Duergar's more valuable belongings, the Drow making it a point to take her fellow genetic failure's sword before the Gnomes could, and then proceeded to let 'her' spiders devour him as some kind of religious offering.
The others were much more subdued in their desecration thankfully, as they contented themselves with only grabbing every single piece of enchanted gear they could get their hands on.
Thus callously abandoned to my own devices, I contented myself with petting the absolute shit out of the land shark, much to the creature rumbling delight.
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(General POV)
Gale of Waterdeep let out a quiet groan as he felt the magic of the gauntlets be syphoned into the orb hiding within his body, the bubbling pressure of the Netherese artifact retreating if only temporarily.
He hoped Reyvin would help him find a proper solution sooner rather than later because the orb had been growing more and more ravenous by the day.
Well... that was what one usually got for going against Mystra's teachings, wasn't it?
He supposed he would just have to grin and bear it for now.
"Done with your brooding?" The drawl of the hidden vampire reached his ears, and he looked up to see Astarion staring directly at the markings around his chest.
"My, aren't we a band of fuckups?" The elf chuckled, eyebrows wiggling.
Gale's eyes narrowed for a moment before he simply allowed himself a harsh exhale. There was no point in pretending everything was fine, doubly so before the mots perceptive in their number (not counting what he was rapidly starting to suspect was far more than a simple 'Dunmer').
"Just make sure to run if I start glowing." Gale settled on hiding behind a joke instead "I doubt you'd enjoy the lightshow from too close."
"Hmmm." Astarion hummed as if considering it before shrugging "Quite."
"Cease wasting time." Lae'zel called from the near front of their line, a few steps behind the determined gait of Wyll "We have spent enough dawdling."
"Oh very well." Astarion sighed dramatically "You are no fun."
Before Gale could throw in his own two coins he felt a magical presence suddenly surrounding all of them.
Immediately he reached for his own magic, but it was still made sluggish by whatever the Mind Flayers did to him and before he could dispel the trap all four of them were transported elsewhere.
They found themselves in a lavish dining room, before a table covered with a spread of food that could only ever be described as decadent.
And before it stood a man, or what he thought was a man, with a small, curious smile on his face.
"Welcome, honored guests." He spoke, a storyteller's voice "To the House of Hope."
Comments
Oofster0_0
TFTC
Skye Morningstar
Do I detect a faint whiff of *sniffs delicately* dagoth-fried fiend? It's finger licking devious!
