death of a drowess

  Aunkacha slid from her perch in the window with the fluid, precise grace of the spiders her kind so emulate. Her deep black flesh blended into the shadowy room, only the slightests pattern of silver spider silk breaking the outlined of her toned body; for among her people clothing could always be seen to hide some weakness, and she had none. Though hundreds of years old and jaded beyond human imagining, she was still young in drow years, strong and quick. She slid through empty rooms and corridors with silent grace, her slim body taut and wiry, silvery white hair cut to shoulder length for combat efficacy. Among drow her breasts, a size too large for her form, broke the slim perfection of her form - but she had found the trait handy when dealing with the occasional surface adventurers she was sent to hunt. She had never advanced far in the worship of Lolth, but she was as fine a killer as existed among her Church, and her skilles were admired and prized by the preistesses well above her modest rank. Today her target is a male wizard. Barely tolerated at the best of times, he was rumored to have thrown in with the Demon god Orcus. The followers of Lolth could never allow such a heretic to survive.


Seeing a light in the distance, she stroked the whip coiled around her body, taking the handle lightly in her grip. A magical weapon long held by her church, she had earned it long ago and it was as much a part of her as her hands or feet - a steel hard, razor sharp whip that a skilled user  could use to cut through bone, or simply inspire a stubborn orc to pick up the pace in the slave pits. She slid it from around her form, savoring the heft of it in her hand as she steeled herself for the joy of combat. As she slid into view of the room, her smile widened and her stance softened. It was simply a slave, copying scrolls... probably a human. Aunkacha felt the whip slide free of her body as she leaned in the doorway, considering. Silencing this minion was necessary, but easy prey was meant to be savored - and she hated humans. All through her youth the busty drow had been mockingly compared to the overly curvy surface dwellers, and torturing the bumbling creatures was an irrational but delightful bit of payback. Her pink eyes examined the human woman for dangers, but saw nothing worth mentioning. She had the strange pale, pinkish skin of a surface dweller, and her hair was the honey blonde of a surface elf; strangely out of place on the awkward human form. She was a young adult, and wore little more than Aunkacha, though she had many weaknesses for the observer to take in... weak arms, untoned stomach, poor stance, overlarge breasts... Aunkacha felt a twinge of irritation at their similairty to her own.  A human might find her a very fine specimen indeed, but to a Drow she was little more than an awkward shadow of beauty.


The whip lashed out before the human even noticed her presence, wrapping twice around the humans neck and allowing time for little more than a yelp of surprise from her prey. Beheading the human would have been a better tactical choice, but less amusing. The whip tightened as Aunkacha reeled the woman towards her, watching the humans dull brown eyes widen in pain and shock as the whip bit in, cutting off her air. Of course, the razor whip was too sharp to play this out for long, and Aunkacha could already see blood oozing from the double line around the womans neck. The humans hands scrabbled at the whip as it tightened, sinking in and allowing blood to run down her chest and back. Her already widened eyes bulged, her mouth twisted into a silent scream. The terrified woman, lacking any of the sense of even the most foolish drow, surprised the assassin by trying to flee, putting even more strain upon the whip. Before Aunkacha could properly respond, the human had yanked the whip tight and thrown her weight into it, resulting in her head tumbling off as her body stumbled into the table, knocking it inches forward.


Aunkacha hissed and rolled her eyes. Even a pack lizard would have known better than to lean into a cutting weapon. The womans head rolled to her feet, frightened brown eyes locking on Aunkacha's angry pink gaze. Ignoring it, Aunkacha reeled in her whip. The noise of the stumbling body had been little, but she would need to be prepared for any response it may have roused. It was as she crept forward, deeper into the keep, that a voice froze her in place.


"I liked that one." came a voice from the shadows of a doorway, smooth as silk. It was male, and drow, and the loss of surprise irritated the drow assassin. She heard a brief muttered spell, and she rolled rapidly to the left, snapping her whip to the side and arcing it towards the male in one smooth, practiced motion. Expecting a targeted spell to crash into the palce she had been, she was mildly surprised to find he had attempted no clear offensive spell. She put that into the back of her mind, but it wasn't likely to be a problem once the males head was struck from his shoulder. She smiled a tight smile as the whip arced true and clear, set to intersect his neck without a hitch. Then... there was a hitch.


Her smile faltered, confused, as the whip stalled mere inches from his neck. His smile widened, infuriatingly smug. The whip hung, silent and still. Had he stopped time? The spell was unfamilair, but she moved into action directly, smoothly plucking a dagger from her boot and dropping the whip as she made a smooth, leaping charge towards the wizard a few meters away. She considered and rejecting throwing it into his smug face - better to keep her only secondary weapon in hand. As it turned out, this was a mistake. Her first indication of what had gone wrong was when she stumbled and fell to the ground. Aunkacha stumbling was as improbable as a spider becoming entangled in it's own web. Looking down, she saw and felt that in a very real sense, that is exactly what had happened.


The mage had somehow taken control of her whip, and it was wrapped around her legs. Like the foolish human, her own momentum had cut the whip into her legs, and dark blood ran along her darker legs as her hands darted down to try and pry the whip free. Like a snake, the whip struck, wrapping twice around her wrists. Elsewhere she felt it sliding around her body, tangled her up, keeping her arms tight to her body. Sudenly she felt something she had not felt in a very long time...fear. Aunkacha was bound. She had no range of motion to use the blade in her hand, and the whip was wound tightly around her body. Quite long, it seemed to be everywhere. It wound her legs together, it pushed in two firm lines across her breasts, it slid alarmingly around her neck, kept her arms firmly held. She froze, her eyes seeking out the wizard as her mind raced. The spell was likely to run out, if she could keep him talking. "You have me wizard... the priestesses will pay you well for my return."


He shook his head, considering her. His eyes lit on the knife, held tightly in her hands. He smiled down to her, and with a motion of his hand the whip tightened rapidly. Something fell across Aunkachas body. She realized immeditatly that the knife had fallen, that she had been disarmed. It took her a moment more to realize while the knife was gone, it was still firm in her grip. Her hands lay, one across her chest, the other sliding from her and falling to her side. She stared wildly at the hand on  her chest, the white nails standing out against her dark skin. "I need a priestess" she knew immediately. Only magic could repair her ruined body, and it was ruined. Without hands, she could not kill. She felt her breath coming faster, her training barely containing the raising feeling of helplessness. The whip remained coiled tight against her, dimpling lines across her bound body. Her wrists were bleeding, warm blood dripping across her torso.


The mage looked over the bound drow, enjoying he view. "One of your rivals paid me well to remove you from the ranks... let me know what kind of spell I might need. Lloth may hate a heretic, but she hates failure to take an opportunity more. I'm sure your fellow assassin will sit well in her good grace." Aunkacha felt the whip tightened, twinges of pain surfacing across her body like the flashing of luminescnt insects in the depths. "Though I hear Lolth has little time for a failure. Perhaps you should consider coming under the good graces of Orcus?"


Aunkacha felt herself trying to wriggle free in spite of herself - the sheer lack of options was maddening, even as her own motions caused her skin to part in a half dozen locations, warm blood sliding from fresh wounds. Maybe if she could convince this horrible wizard she intended to join his church, she could slay him later for the accolades of the spider godess. She kept her voice level as she spoke, eyes calm and firm on his. "I came here to renounce my church and join you, fool... my sister found out and sought to turn you against me." She was a good liar, long practiced... but any drow was a good lair, and good at detecting them. Even foolish males. Still, it was her only gambit.


"Lolth won't be pleased to hear THAT." The wizard commented with a smile, and then his fingers moved again, and she felt the whip sliding around her, loosening. She kept her face still, her smile of triumph hidden. Soon this creature would have the death he deserved, hands or no. She could always use her legs. She flexed her muscles as the whip loosened, trying to ascertain the damage. The rush of blood from her wrists was worrying; the tight whip had been cutting off some circulation. She would have to move fast. The whip was unwinding hellishly slowly.
She felt a twinge of concern as her nerves mapped the movement of the whip - it wasn't really unwinding. It remained tight around her neck, and her legs had barely had room to flex before the whip was almost as tight as before. Elsewhere the whip was rearanging itself, looping twice around her belly, wrapping loosely around the base of her breasts. "What are you doing?" She hissed. "Free me and I can aid you!" The male drow leaned over, his neck mere feet from her legs. If only she were not bound so, she could kill him in an instant. "You rennounce Lolth? You will betray her in both word and deed?" he said, sounding curious.


She tested the whip, finding it unyielding. To say such things were dangerous, for Lolth was not a forgiving godess. Yet she would be forgiven, and more, if she could slay this mage. To die now in lolth's good graces was to be a failure, a plaything in an afterlife of despair and fear. To kill a powerful heretic mage would be a redemption worth the risk. She could sit in high standing by The side of the spider godess, slaves and playthings of her own in abundance. Perhaps even more than that, she felt the weight of the years she stands to lose. Centuries of power and delight. She was no mere human, to mourn the loss of a handful of increasingly pallid decades. Her life would spin out across centuries, and she had simply too much to lose now. "I renounce Lolth - as I came her to do. I can do no more bound like a gnomish tinker for sale."


The wizard nodded and stood. "I see. I imagine your spider godess will be pleased to know so." As Aunkacha opened her mouth to speak, the whip tightened rapidly around her neck, cutting off her breath. She glared at the man imperiously, her pink eyes flashing a demand to be released, but she had underestimated the male, as her kind was inclined to do. The whip was suddenly tightening everywhere, and she realized the dangerous predicament she was in immidately. She had not had time to properly devote herself to Orcus, even had she meant to do so. Her afterlife was in the not so tender hands of the godess she had just openly rejected... and she could not breathe. Her eyes flashed in rage and fear as she felt the whip biting in deep, blood running across her body. After a quick struggle, the fear won out. As foolish, as useless as she knew it to be, she felt her body begin to struggle... she bucked and a gash opened along her thigh, deep cuts in her arms and stomach. The tightening whip barely had to work as her body panicked seemingly of it's own accord, a scream of helpless panic dying in her chest, unable to escape her throat. She watched in horror as another motion of the mans hands sent the two loops around her breasts tight, her most hated feature suddenly a treasure she longed for more than any decadant deight she had ever know as they left her body and rolled to either side, nothing but a mass of fat and quivering meat. She stared at lighter gray of her nipple as it sat far from where it had always been, her mind screaming at the impossibility of it's new home on a wizards floor. In moments that was forgotten as the whip began to tighten into her toned stomach, slicing through muscles and innards alike as it rapidly closed. Her legs and arms suddenly began to fall away in sections, slabs of meat cleanly chopped through the bone. "I didn't mean it Goddess!" her mind screamed, the terror of the future as great as the terror of her present. She felt a hand, surprisingly gentle in her hair, and suddenly the wire of the whip was contracting through her neck. Her head was lifted up and away just in time to watch the rest of her body fall to pieces beneath her, the final remants of her torso crumbling into perfectly chopped cubes of drow flesh.


The drow wizard locked eyes with the severed head, the eyes of the broken drowess at last pleading, far past the point of it doing any possible good. He watched her mouth moving frantically, idly wondering what she had to say... and then her dropped her, watching her head roll gently against her severed breast, her silver hair soaking up the brilliant red that showed up nowhere else against her dark skin and black floor. He watched as her mouth shudder to a stop, enjoying the terror that lingered on her face. Her head had stayed alive far longer than a humans would, he noted idly. No doubt further experimentation on the two species was in order. He moved his hand in a gentle swirl, and the gore coated whip coiled itself and slid into his hand. It would be a delightful new toy.