Posts Tagged ‘Drow’

FroggVentures: Episode 1-3: Back to the Surface

Posted: November 1, 1998 in Writing
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Episode I

(part 1) The Baron-Frogg-Prince of Mythril is doubting his sanity: he could be miles underground, he could be very lost, and he could have just witnessed the meeting of three Very Powerful Things that were concerned with ruining his Lady Alliah’s Land. He was hoping that the ultrasensitive high-tech microphone that was implanted in his tongue was still working and transmitting to his little Oriental buddy Abu Dabu Dabu Day…

“Webbed feet don’t fail me now!” thought the Baron as he hauled Frogg down the dusty corridor. Another shriek of rage came from the Temple he had just left behind, shaking dust and debris from the cobwebbed ceiling and obscuring his already limited vision. “I shouldn’t have winked at the Spider Queen,” the Frogg reprimanded himself, “She took it the wrong way.”

The Froggacuda skidded into a small room, coughing from the dust he was raising with his big feet. Several choices presented themselves: the iron rungs of a ladder were bolted to the east wall, passing through a hole in the ceiling, and two hallways continued east and north. “Oh, no contest!” thought the Frogg Prince, “I want out of here — I’m going up!” He mounted the ladder quickly and climbed through the roof.

The ladder kept going up, through a cramped tunnel-like passage liberally festooned with spiderwebs. These ones were sticky, and the Frogg paused to remove a particularly gauzy one from his left eye. Freezing, he heard a peculiar rattling noise from above him; purple drops of steaming venom dropped on his forearm. Without looking up, the Froggacuda let go of the ladder, dropping down the shaft as something started rushing down. He landed on his feet and kept on running as a humöngous black spider boiled out of the ceiling, baring massive fangs and continuing to make that irritating chittering.

This corridor was somewhat cleaner than the one he had used to escape the temple; instead of cobwebs, there were neat piles of bones, human and otherwise, that the Frogg Prince skedaddled over on his way through the catacombs. He didn’t dare look back — he didn’t have to; he could hear the Son of Shelob behind him and it sounded like he was gaining. It did have six more legs than him. There was torchlight up ahead, around a corner.

The Frogg was barrelling down the hallway, and he skidded as he went 90 degrees to his right. Bouncing off of the wall, he balked momentarily at what he saw. Two very surprised Drow warriors looked at the Frogg, then at each other, and reached for their weapons. Past the guards, a large room seemed to have been converted into a barracks of sorts: three rows of rude beds, about sixty in all, occupied the room, with medium-sized footlockers at their feet. Well-maintained torches graced the walls in iron sconces, and at the far end, a large table with matching benches was set up. It was much cheerier than the dusty hallways he had been sprinting through, and would have been a welcome place to rest, except for the Drow soldiers that stopped their menial labors and gawked in disbelief at the 350 pound amphibian cruising down the southern hallway right for them. Or maybe they were looking at what was right behind him. The Frogg was running so fast his eyes were watering, but he thought he felt the hairy limbs of the massive spider reaching for his back.

Episode II

(part 2)…The Froggacuda has a quick choice to make: Drow to the front; Super Big Spider to the rear…

Covered with streamers of spiderweb and howling like a demon, the Froggacuda burst into the barracks to the sound of swords being drawn and yells of surprise from the Drow. He didn’t look back — the chittering of the Widowmaker was nigh deafening — the Frogg just leaped with all of his might, clearing eight beds at once, feeling the snicker-snick of foot-long fangs in the space he had just recently occupied, and hearing two awful screams, probably from the unfortunate Drow whose turn it was on guard duty. “BANZAI!” he screamed as he hurtled towards a poor startled Dark Elf who wasn’t getting any traction on the floor to move out of the way. He was flattened as the Frogg tried to aim for a bed to bounce on. “NICE!” he yelled as he saw his trajectory was going to take him right on to the ninth bed in the row. Drow were running everywhere at once, and they seemed to be more concerned with the Great Spider than with him. A Dark Elf priestess was foaming at the mouth, she was screaming so loud in a vile Drowish language, gesturing with a spider medallion at the part of the room the Frogg came from.

The ninth bed splintered under the impact of the Almighty Amphibian, and the Froggacuda went sprawling. It was lucky that he did, for a pair of gleaming hand axes would have intercepted him if he had remained standing. They continued across the room to imbed themselves in the Priestess, who stopped foaming. A Drow rushed him with an upraised shortsword. The Frogg Prince grabbed him and kept him going on the same line of momentum, right over the broken bed and into the melee behind him. The Frogg struggled to his feet, shrugging the bedframe from his shoulders. Three Drow had seized short barbed spears, and were advancing on him. “Look!” he pointed over their shoulders, “It’s Lolth! What’s up, Spider Queen!” One Drow stopped and looked; the Frogg Prince grabbed his spear beyond the barbs and hauled him in, elbowing him in the face. He got his other hand on the spear and twisted it out of the Drow’s grasp, throwing the Dark Elf behind him by accident and hearing him roughly connect with someone — or something. The other two Drow weren’t amused by the Frogg’s taking their Deity’s name in vain; one stuck his spear into the Froggacuda’s shoulder, the other attempted to gut him but was foiled by a deft parry with the javelin the Frogg was holding. Roaring in pain, the Frogg spun sideways, dragging the first attacker with him on the end of the spear that was stuck in his shoulder. His tongue licked out and hit the second Drow warrior in the head. When he was retracted, the Frogg bit his head off and spat it to his left to roll around beneath a bed. The Dark Elf hanging on to the spear was snarling and twisting it into the Frogg’s shoulder as best as he could while being flailed around by the Baron’s movements. He left the spear stuck in Another throwing axe embedded itself into the Froggacuda’s back.

The Frogg Prince was getting upset; this was taking too long, plus he was starting to grow tired with all of this excitement. Snapping the spear in half, he left a foot and a half of the barbed end sticking out of his shoulder. The Drow was left holding two feet of haft with a dumb expression on his face, which the Frogg promptly wiped off with a well-placed handful of claw. The Dark Elf went down, holding his face and screaming. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he saw that the Great Spider was doing almost as well as he was: ten or twelve Drow bodies were piled around it. But the Drow had stuck a bunch of spears in it, and a couple were pincushioning it with their crossbows. A quarrel thunked into the Frogg’s side, and he yelped. “I gotta get out of here!” he grimaced as he yanked the axe out of his hide and sank it into the chest of an incoming Dark Elf warrior. Picking him up by the haft of the axe, the Frogg headed for the far end of the room and what he hoped was the exit. He grinned at the expressions of pain that played across the face of the warrior as quarrels from his comrades started punching into him; the Frogg used him as a shield and then threw him aside. Bellowing loudly, he grabbed a bed and held it in front of him as a flurry of magical missiles flew from another Priestess. “Yog-Sothoth’s balls, you pests are persistant!” he grumbled and hurled the smoking wreck of the bed into the group of Drow that had gathered around her. Flexing his muscles, he sprang over their heads and trucked down the corridor, turning a corner and mustering his reserves of strength. Passing several doors, he saw a four-way intersection and put on the brakes. Standing at the crossroads, he caught his breath and winced at the pain of his wounds. The three choices he had in front of him all looked rather equal: roughly dressed stone, clean and lit by torches. Voices sounded from the left-hand one, as did the quick, sharp footfalls of several people. Looking back up the hallway that he had come down, he saw a door open and a group of Dark Elves in chainmail rush towards the barracks. “Right,” thought the Frogg, and that’s the way he went.

Episode III

(part 3)…Taking a right-hand turn, the Frogg Prince is fleeing a horde of nasty Dark Elves, bleeding and homesick for his Jacuzzi in his suite at the Manor…

The hallway twisted and turned through the earth, passing several empty rooms. One room looked like a guard room, but nobody occupied it. A leg of mutton rested on a wooden plate, half-eaten. The Baron confiscated it in the name of Mythril. Another room seemed to be outfitted as a stable, but it was devoid of mounts, containing only food bags, tackle, and a worn saddle. Munching on the leg bone, the Froggacuda quickly followed the corridor to where it ended at a huge oaken door, bound in strips of a silvery material that made the Frogg’s eyes bug out. He looked around and stooped to examine one of the thick bands of metal. “Holy Dwarf Dung!” he breathed in awe, “Mithril.” He peered through the keyhole and saw nothing. He listened at the door and heard nothing. Shrugging, he grasped the handle and pulled.

The door opened outwards, and the Frogg Prince peered around the six-inch thick door. A rush of fresh air filled his lungs, and he blinked his eyes in the hazy sunshine that filtered through the huge moss-laden trees that met his view. A grey ground mist still hugged the massive arching roots of the ancient trunks, softening their outlines and dampening the sounds of a healthy forest. The Froggacuda slipped outside, and the portal silently swung shut behind him, blending perfectly with the bark of the tree it was built into. Sighing with relief, he took the clean air deep into his lungs and trudged down the slight slope to the forest floor. Turning around, he studied the tree for a moment, trying to find any remarkable features, of which there were none, save a knot directly above where he imagined the door to be that was shaped like a crow. Then, feeling fatigue overcoming him, he flung the gnawed mutton-bone aside and looked for a tree to climb to get his bearings.

Part way up a massive oak, he paused. He heard the sound again: the snort of a horse, and he alighted in the fork of two mighty branches. Scanning the misty forest floor below, he saw a rider swathed in a dark cloak appear out of the fog, heading towards the Tree. The Frogg Prince squatted in the crotch of the tree and watched the figure dismount directly in front of where the door was and look around warily. Throwing back her hood, for it was a she, she spoke three common words aloud and the door opened. The Froggacuda gaped; this was no Dark Elf — this was a True Elf. “I thought they weren’t too fond of each other,” mused the Frogg to himself. The Elf lead her horse through the door. and it again slid silently shut.

The Baron of Mythril noted that he was high enough to view the position of the Suns, got his bearings, and slid down the trunk of the tree. He headed West — quickly!

FroggVentures: Episode 1-3: Underground in Mythril

Posted: November 1, 1998 in Writing
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Episode I

(part 1) We rejoin the Baron of Mythril somewhere underground and in deep trouble, as the security of Mythril Manor has been breached. Does anyone realize that he’s gone? Does anyone miss him? Does the High Council give a damn? We’ll never know unless…

The Froggacuda came to being dragged through corridors so thick with dust that he almost choked. His head throbbed from what he recognized now as poison. “Damn Tinar’ri!” vaguely thought the Frogg, “I knew they were tougher than they looked…” He drifted off into a haze of semiconsciousness as the wound inflicted by the scimitar so long ago throbbed as if it had a life of its own.

He didn’t know how long he had drifted into the serenity of unconsciousness, but he awoke to an alarming thought: “Lady Silvar! Her catacomb exploration mission! That is where we probably are passing through…must warn her…” The Baron lapsed into subconsciousness once again.

“Get up!” The Froggacuda was kicked in the ribs sharply. Obscenities were hurled at him from either side. “You miserable piece of garbage,” snarled what he guessed to be one of the Dark Elves with the metal-studded clubs, “You’re trash, a mutant, an abomination!” “At least I have a mind of my own, you loathesome Demon-worshipping sorry homeless pickleheaded spit-faced son-of-a-spider geek!” the Froggacuda automatically rattled off from his inexhaustible store of comebacks. Wrong thing to do. He was savagely beaten by the two Dark Elves with the clubs, who laughed and laughed. “Mythril is doomed, you rotten amphibian. Even the Council is too concerned with those stupid Tinar’ri we recruited to turn their attention to your disappearance. There were only only two who examined what we left behind, and Lillith deemed that they were not a threat to us.” glowered one of the Drow. The other chimed in, “She even named them, so that we could kill them first! Acroyear and Hasselhoff,” he continued to gloat over their minor victory, “And we shall kill them soon!” His voice trailed off into maniacal laughter, joined with his friend, who the Frogg surmised was his brother. Maybe even his twin brother.

The Frogg Prince took in his surroundings carefully, and he didn’t like what he saw. He was in a large room of some sort, bound with his big hands firmly behind his back. His ankles were tied together, too; both knots were professional, and the Drow, of course, used Spider Silk, their customary thread, which was near impossible to break, being a sort of flexible steel. You had to admire the Drow in a way: they were powerful and successful and you might almost like them if they weren’t always egotistical and chaotic in nature. He could sight along the line of the floor, and saw that there was a hell of a lot of dust and accumulated debris. Wherever he was, it hadn’t been used for a long time. Rotting and faded tapestries hung from the walls depicted forgotten times, certainly before Mythril was established. “Aha,” thought the Frogg, “An Olde Evil! What an adventure!”

“So get up, Frog!” said one of the Elves. The Froggacuda distinctly heard him say it with one “g”, and that upset him. “I’ll remember that,” he thought. He struggled to his feet and instinctively backed up against the wall. Absentmindedly, he ran an edge of one of his claws over the rope and felt a thread part. “Alright, guys,” he said sheepishly, “You got me. Where’re we going?” The Froggacuda raised his eyebrows and looked quizzically at the two Drow. “You’re going to see the Queen!” said one with a touch of fear in his voice, “She comes when Lillith calls because she is interested in capturing this part of the overworld.” “Yes, the Queen,” said the other Dark Elf, “She will enthrall you, fool. Now, let’s go.” He roughly hauled the Froggacuda forwards, away from the wall, and propelled him into the bulk of the room.

The ceiling arched until it couldn’t be seen; a short flight of stairs led down to a purple and green tiled floor where two pools of viscous black tarry liquid boiled and steamed. The Dark Elves steered the Froggacuda well clear of the pools, but half-hearted tendrils of pitch explored outside of the confines of the pool like dogs sniffing an unfamiliar scent. Between the 20 x 20 pools passed the Frogg Prince and his captors, until they mounted another set of stairs which led to an altar and twin pedestals, where replicate statues of the Big Green Dogs flanked a dais. Upon the dais stood a nauseous altar, stained rust-colored with previous sacrifices and built from a dark basalt stone that seemed to mirror the evil that swam in the pools in front of it. Lillith the Dark Elf Priestess emerged from the shadows behind the altar and smirked at the Froggacuda.

“Oh, if it isn’t the Baron of Mythril!” she simpered, “How nice of you to drop by! Doesn’t that bitch Alliah miss you and your ‘explorations’?” “Do you always dress like you were going to do a cheap newsprint magazine photo shoot for a bunch of frustrated horny one-handed Orks?” shot back the Froggacuda angrily. He was beaten for that one by the Drow brothers, too, to the sound of Lillith’s peals of laughter.

“You’re lucky that Brutikus isn’t here, Frogg,” said Lillith, amused by the punishment of the Frogg, “He would have ripped your teeth out for that little comment.” The Dark Elf brothers chuckled as if they had seen such an event happen before. “Anyways, somebody special wants to see you,” she intoned meaningfully, “And, of course, Lolth wants to take a look at the famous Froggacuda.” “Who on earth is excited to see this piece of gnagrascth?” spat one of the Drow holding the Frogg. “I am,” stated a deep ominous voice from behind the altar.

Episode II

(part 2) The Baron of Mythril has been captured and is far underground, below the Mythril Manor, surrounded by Drow and things far worse…

A form ensconced in black and red plate mail moved into the bluish white light that surrounded the altar. He moved slowly around the block of the altar, studying the Froggacuda. A chill ran up the Frogg’s spine — he recognized the plate mail from somewhere, but he couldn’t put his claw on where. The Drow involuntarily released their hold on the Froggacuda and moved back respectfully. The Froggacuda took the time to snap another two strands of Spider Silk rope around his wrists. The suit of plate mail handed an enormous flail to one of the Drow guards, who almost staggered under its weight. As the third strand snapped under his claw, the Froggacuda recognized the figure from his childhood.

“Mangous Ye!” he shouted happily, “I knew you’d come to save me!” The Froggacuda beamed at the plate mail and halfheartedly hopped with his ankles tied together. “Shut up you oaf!” screamed Mangous Ye angrily, striking the Froggacuda across the face with a mailed gauntlet. The Frogg fell to the floor. “You miserable creature!” railed Ye at the fallen Frogg, “You were supposed to be my servant, you misbegotten reptile!” The one thing that the Froggacuda liked less than being called a Frogg with one ‘g’ was being classified as something that he wasn’t. “I’m a full amphibian,” clarified the Froggacuda from the stone floor, “Not a lizard, Mangous you dweeb!” Their entertaining reunion was interrupted by Lillith’s ecstatic cries: “She comes! She is coming!”

The temple was lit with a disgustingly nauseous purple light, and spiders scuttled from every crevice imaginable towards the altar. The Frogg Prince, as he lay before the altar on the stone, could hear the pools behind him bubbling in excitement, and an unnatural wind stirred the dust in the room into whorls. A ground mist erupted from the altar that the spiders were converging upon; the arachnids mounted the altar, swarming over it and covering it with a blanket of silk. Lillith and Mangous Ye stepped back from the altar, which began to spout blood in a crimson fountain. The spiders seemed to dance in the liquid, spinning faster and then retreating to the space in front of the altar. Even the Frogg’s guards retreated somewhat. leaving the Froggacuda to be covered in spiders and splashed blood. The three Drow fell to their knees before the altar as the Froggacuda struggled to his feet, cutting another strand of the Spider Silk rope. Mangous Ye backed up near the Frogg, understanding the power that was sweeping through the old temple. Ye started muttering to himself, something that the Frogg Prince didn’t particularly like. He wished he could give Ye a breathalizer test to see how tanked he was at this particular moment.

It was then that Lolth started to materialize. A clap of thunder shook the complex, shaking debris from the ceiling and rocking the floor. The outline of a great spider began to appear on the top of the silk-wrapped altar. Lillith began moaning and shrieking prayers to the heavens; the Drow brothers went white and prostrated themselves. Lightning illuminated the extent of the rudely hewn temple from stem to stern, while the spiders grovelled in worship to their ultimate ideal. Lolth accepted the material form, and squatted heavily upon the bloodsoaked altar.

Episode III

(part 3)…The Froggacuda has been reunited with his maker, Mangous Ye, the Evil and Insane Elf Priest of Kali, and is the guest of a rather obnoxious Drow Elf Priestess Lillith in the catacombs below the Land of Mythril. Obviously, and in true Frogg form, he STILL is in deep feces…

“Who calls me here to observe these piteous creatures?” spoke Lolth in a voice made of spiders’ cobwebs and blasphemous noise, “Who dares awake me from the Abyss?” “I, milady Precious,” spoke Lillith in a tone of abject respect. The Froggacuda rolled his eyes, seeing her crawl across the floor and rub against the bloodied altar. He turned his head to follow Mangous Ye, who was backing down the stairs past the two Drow twins, who were still groveling around on the ground like they were having ecstatic seizures. Whistling a tuneless ditty softly to himself, he feverishly chopped away at the Spider Silk rope binding his hands together behind his back. It wasn’t giving anymore. The Frogg Prince stopped whistling and cursed.

“Oh my Goddess,” began Lillith, “I have brought you the infamous Baron of Mythril, the Prince Frogacuda, for you to feast upon his worthless soul to ease the agonies I know you endure being connected to this miserable plane of existence.” “That’s Frogg, with two g’s, you idiot,” grumbled the Froggacuda, rubbing the rope over his spinal plates. It separated and left him holding the strands of Spider Silk wrapped around his thick wrists. “Shut up you cretin!” shrieked Lillith, hurling a flurry of magical bolts from her fingertips at the Frogg, exploding into him and hurling him back down the stairs to crumple in front of the two tarry pools. Smoke rose from the eight wounds; the Froggacuda coughed, spat, and struggled to his feet, holding his hands behind him as if they were still bound. Lolth chuckled; the rumbling of her laughter dissolved into the sound of millions of spiders chirping.

“This one has spirit,” Lolth spoke as the echoes of her mirth died away, “Its soul must be exquisite.” She shifted forwards on the silk-wrapped crimson basalt to peer at the Froggacuda. “I seem to remember that Frogg legs are a delicacy in some parts of the Multiverse.” Suddenly, her attention was diverted, “WHAT is that?”

The Frogg Prince looked over his shoulder. Mangous Ye had, somewhat foolishly, stationed himself between the two black pools of active slime, and, to make matters worse, he was chanting. “Oh, by He-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Named!” swore the Froggacuda, “Mangous, you always were an imbecile. Are you drunk!?” Mangous Ye lifted his voice, gutturally pouring blasphemies in a disgustingly liquid tone, gesturing with both arms spread wide. Lolth raised herself on her bloodied throne and looked archly at her Priestess; Lillith was gaping at Ye, who began to raise his voice, the words spilling forth from his tongue like a flood. “SSSLORRFFUSSS DEMONNNTUMMUSS JUBILEXX!” he screamed with some sort of finality. Nothing happened.

Lillith laughed hysterically, embarrassed by Mangous Ye’s demonstration of inability. “You fool!” she cackled like a witch, “Do you have any sense at all? So what if you could locate the Froggacuda — we have him now, and you’re so much useless baggage.” Mangous Ye looked stupid, dumbfounded even. Lillith turned to her Goddess, “I am sorry, my Worship, for this interruption. Would you like an appetizer?” Lolth pointedly ignored her, staring at Mangous Ye, who visibly cringed and started to stammer soundless apologies. Lillith gestured idly to the two Dark Elves, “Tomax, Xamot…throw him in the Ooze.” The twins rose from their knees and cracked their knuckles, grinning at each other. They started down the stairs.

Mangous Ye backed up a step and looked around wildly. The Ooze had gone disturbingly flat; the Froggacuda quietly got out of the way of the advancing Dark Elves, who had forgotten him for the moment. Lolth was shifting around on her altar uncomfortably, and Lillith’s eyes were gleaming; she was caressing her bare forearms with her long white nails hard enough to draw blood.

“Wait!” squealed Mangous Ye, holding up his hands, “I almost forgot!” He took in a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs: “SSKANDAR!!” The Dark Twins stopped for a moment, and the sound of Ye’s shout died out dully. Then the pools of Ooze started to bubble furiously. Lolth rose to her full height on the altar and glowered at Mangous Ye, who had no idea what to do, so he stood where he was.

Twin fountains of loathsome phosphorescent-laced solidified ooze erupted from the pools and slammed into the ceiling hard enough to embed themselves. Tendrils and tentacles of Ooze sprayed forth from the masses of the two columns, mouths full of razor like teeth opening on some, eyes blinking open from others. They waved in a extradimensional breeze, and began weaving themselves together in the space between the two pools. Liquid streamed over the surface of the more solid Ooze, defying gravity and spraying all over the place. Tomax and Xamot, true to their twin nature, did twin backflips back up the stairs and pulled out glowing shortswords. The Froggacuda’s jaw dropped, and he caught a mouthful of black goo right in the kisser. Lolth hissed evilly with spectacular stereo effects, and she raised one of her eight hairy limbs and swatted Lillith behind her head hard, sprawling her prone in front of her. “What is this?” she questioned in a sharp tone as Lillith rose painfully on her hands and cowered, sobbing. The tentacles of black Ooze wove faster, and the semblance of a giant mouth began to take form, gigantic misshapen teeth sliding nauseously into place, huge lips dripping slime appearing.

“I am JUBILEX, Lord of Amorphousness, and I come to Speak to the Spider Queen,” the huge mouth spoke, spraying gobbets of slime, “I represent the Black Earth Mother, KALI.” Lolth once again rose to her full height, this time snarling, showing a delicate and syringe-like pair of ivory fangs. The Froggacuda backed carefully behind a pillar, noting a worn tapestry that didn’t hang quite flush with the wall several yards to his right.

“KALI demands equal Rights to the Overland of Mythril; she desires Land for creation of her Undead Legions upon this World,” Jubilex continued, “She will not be Denied.”

“Perchance KALI can find another Land to Corrupt,” replied Lolth warily, shifting on the altar, “Mythril is Mine!”

“KALI will not take Kindly to your Insubordination,” rumbled the Mouth of Jubilex, “You are not in a Position to Bargain, Queen.”

“Who is KALI to send a mere Demon-Lord to do Her Work?” Lolth sneered. “Oh mighty Dagon, please please please remember your favorite Frogg,” prayed the Baron silently as he cut the bonds around his ankles. He was going insane.

“Excellent!” the corners of the Mouth twisted into a wicked smirk, “KALI said that You would wish to Speak to Her Personally.” The Orifice yawned wide with an earthshaking groan, and rolled a thick viscous tongue out to slap against the stairs of the dais. “Impressive,” thought the Froggacuda, who had to bite his own tongue to keep from braying maniacal laughter.

From the gaping Mouth of Jubilex stepped a slender four-armed girl with skin the color of polished obsidian. She was perfectly formed, naked but for jewelry of fantastic worth, dripping with huge gems and strands of beaten platinum. The Mouth closed gently upon the tongue behind her, and she turned to place a kiss on the huge rubbery lips, which, in turn, smiled, and (the Frogg could not believe his eyes) there was a hint of a blush in the Ooze. KALI then cast her glittering eyes over to where Lolth sat heavily upon her throne. Lillith rose slowly to her feet, moving quietly beside her Mistress.

Mangous Ye ran forwards to the tongue and fell prostrate before his Goddess. “Oh Mighty Black Earth Mother…” he began in a quavering voice.

“Mangous Ye, you have almost Impressed Me,” said Kali in an evilly honeyed tone, “Come Here.” She waited for Mangous Ye to crawl over to her noisily in his plate mail, and then struck him senseless with her hand. She then turned him over easily, tore off his helm, and placed a kiss upon his forehead. Her kiss left blood upon his face. She placed a bedazzlingly jewelled ring upon his finger, kicked him into the pool of slime where he was wrapped into the bulk of one of the columns of Jubilex, and continued her walk to the dais.

“Lolth, You Disappoint Me,” said KALI with the smoothness of oil, “I Come with an Offer and You thus Insult Me to the Face of My Lover. I am not Sure if I can Forgive You.” She sauntered casually down the tongue, caressing the tentacles that were reaching for her with all her four hands. “But perhaps, We may still reach Some sort of Agreement, no?” KALI questioned pointedly. She had reached the dais’s steps and was mounting them one at a time. She turned her gaze to the twin Drow. She stopped at the top of the stairs and cocked her head to one side prettily, looking first at Tomax, then at Xamot. They dropped their shortswords and fell to their knees, placing their foreheads on the cold stone of the floor. Lillith gripped the edge of the altar as KALI approached.

“Well, Lolth?” asked KALI in a syrupy voice, “Will I Have Your Co-operation?” Lillith could not take the violation of her Mistress’s temple any longer, and rushed forwards with a cry of rage. Lolth darted out two limbs to catch her, but it was KALI who caught her first. Almost aimlessly, she reached out an arm and seized Lillith by the throat. Picking her off of the ground, KALI looked straight at Lolth, then turned her awful eyes to Lillith’s.

The back of Lillith’s head exploded outwards; her lifeless form went limp in KALI’s hand, and she dropped her to the floor. KALI looked again to Lolth and smiled, revealing sharpened white teeth. “Hmmm?” KALI spoke to the Spider Queen, “What was that you said, girl?”

Lolth visibly composed herself, then answered with a strained voice: “I am Your Humble Servant, KALI.”

“Good,” said KALI, examining Lolth with her deadly vision, “You Know how Upset I can Become.” The Froggacuda now was standing with his back to the wall. Sure enough, the tapestry hid a corridor, but his gaze was riveted to the scene on the dais. KALI turned her back on Lolth and paced back down the stairs. She waved one hand languidly over her shoulder, and Lillith started gasping for breath, her life given back to her by the whim of the Goddess. KALI walked back up the tongue, and the Mouth of Jubilex received her again. In moments, the Ooze had returned to its former state, Jubilex taking Mangous Ye with him and leaving only the two softly roiling pools. The Froggacuda breathed a sigh of semi-relief. “Now at least I only have to deal with one extra-planar creature,” he breathed to himself, and started to lift the edge of the tapestry.

Lolth screamed, a sound not pretty to hear. Turbulent winds sprayed through the temple, and stone fell from the roof. The floor shook, and the Frogg Prince almost lost his footing. “Where is the FROGGACUDA!” shrieked Lolth, terribly put out at her humiliation, and obviously looking for someone to take it out on. Her eyes searched the shadows and rested on the fabulous physique of our Hero. Her gaze was followed by the three Drow Elves, who simultaneously reached for their weapons.

“That, folks, is my cue to exit!” the Froggacuda winked at the Spider Queen and ducked under the tapestry…

[to be continued]