Fawn BW XXXIV

BW XXXIV – Fawn’s Vision

“So Senforn, how are you being treated?” asked a glowing, ghostly apparition of a large, cloaked and hooded humanoid, which floated before a poorly-clad, dishevelled and unshaven elf.

Half lying, half sitting the elf was partially propped up against a roughly-hewn, stone wall. The violet light, emanating from the ghostly form, illuminated the austere environment in which the elf was being held. No furniture adorned his windowless cell and just a solid, iron clad, oak door broke the monotony of the stone walls and ceiling that entrapped him. Not interested in the answer, the voice followed immediately with a second question, “Why was Iki so interested in Yishmay?”

“Because she was a Bloom”, eventually whispered the elf shakily through bruised and cracked lips; wide, terrified eyes fixed on the violet form before him – the only light source that he had seen for years.

“And what does that mean?” the deep rasping voice pressed. Each intonation changed the shade and strength of the light before the elf, so that it pulsated disturbingly. Swallowing hard and clearly in two minds of whether or not to answer, the elf struggled to respond, “She has power and influence over the Prime.”

The questioning already seemed relentless, “For example?” the spectre asked, coming closer to the cowering figure before it.

“Well,” the elf swallowed again in an effort to overcome its fear, “she could rally all the Lawful and Good humans on the Prime – they would be drawn to her”, it replied, then added, “but that is not all.”

“Ahh yes,” agreed the phantasm and, expecting something more asked, “what else?”

The elf thought hard, drawing itself into a more comfortable position, seemingly becoming used to the ghostly image in front of it, “She has influence over the Prime itself and, perhaps, its very fabric,” he said mysteriously. After a pause he continued, “She could be aided in this by one of the Dragon Kind – one specific, most ancient and wise beast…Bahamut.”

“Ahh I have heard of this serpent,” hissed the vision.

“Yes,” agreed the elf, spurred on by the interest he was being shown, “probably one of the most powerful of his kind.”

“And a rival for Rantor”, suggested the vision before pausing to consider what it had been told, “Was that why he was so interested in the girl?”

“Yes,” the elf confirmed, “while his minion - Tuar Chan - controlled Rantor, the only threat to his control over the north of Everinstar was Bahamut.”

“How do you know this?” challenged the spirit-form.

“I spent many hours listening to Iki Moko’s conversations – with his Goddess, with Inwe, with Tuar Chan and many others, all while chained to his floor like some unloved pet,” spat the elf.

Disinterested in the elf’s whingeing, the apparition continued its questioning, “When did Iki realise these Blooms existed?”

“I understand that Inwe made him aware of their existence when she converted him to Hel’s ministry,” the elf replied monotonously, as if repeating a well-rehearsed tale. “He understood quickly enough that all would be black and white in the end…” the elf seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, as if trying not to remember past punishments and torture, before alighting on what he thought was an interesting detail - too important to hold onto, “He thought Gwendolyn may have been one, he also thought Elerienne may be one – hence his travels to Zundar and his meeting with the Derro and Duergar.”

“That explains much…” considered the voice, before continuing the questioning, “There are others with this power, are their not? Other females of different races that wield power over folk of their alignment and race, as well as a mighty serpent?”

“Yes,” the elf sobbed.

“Then why did Iki fixate on Yishamy? Did he not have help from these other blooms?”

“He thought he could control her – threaten her with the close attentions of the Efreet or the death of her father; he should have learned that the Blooms are not so easily coerced. Anyway, those more aligned to Iki’s cause were not willing or able to help him achieve his aims.”

“For example?” pressed the voice eager to learn all it could from this decaying wretch.

“Inwe suffered a great blow when her aligned dragon, Tun Mi Lung was destroyed” replied Senforn seemingly stronger now, “and her power waned significantly when her opposing Bloom – Milai – was subsequently freed. She could no longer manipulate the Negative Plane and failed to notice a young Paladin’s success in freeing Yagamato from her dungeon I hear.”

“Ahh, that explains much.” Agreed the vision, “I understand that she has sought out a new ‘pet’.

The elf shook his head slowly, wearily, and whispered his answer, “I would not know, my Lord.”

Raising its voice to stir the elf back to life, the apparition pressed, “Your captors are led by a Bloom, are they not?”

“Yes, Lord,” came the weak response, “her name is Malask; she is known as the Malevolent.”

“She is not aligned to Iki?” the vision demanded to know.

“No,” the elf considered his explanation, answering slowly, deliberately, “She is more aligned to your Lord’s most hated foe, though no-one completely trusts her – except, perhaps, the undead firedrake.”

“Her ‘pet’?”

“So I believe.”

Thinking that Senforn was holding something back, the voice hissed once again, “And she communicates with her Serpent how?”

“I think they established a link when Tuar Chan made the mistake of inviting the Derro to his Minas – I believe he was after trade and closer alignment to the other Demon Prince in Zundar.”

“Yes,” the voice seemed to be repeating some distant inner monologue, “Strange how he would betray Iki; some say the Serpent controlled his mind in the end.” After a brief pause, the questioning started again, “What of the others?”

The battered elf began by drawing in a shallow, rasping breath before slowly answering, “Well, I believe the second born are represented by Queen Mandur, who has exercised significant dominion over her serpent, Draco Augusta, enabling her to extend her power beyond the Dragorald where, until recently, Iki has kept her bottled up.”

“I thought Renash brought the Serpent to the Prime to protect Olga after the Second Born fled that hole,” challenged the vision.

Wearily the elf set about correcting the fearsome spirit, “He did not have the power; Mandur lent him her beast when she realised that it could be of no use in Amorsland – save to fight Iki Moko, which would have ended in disaster.” The elf drew in another breath and continued, “The Sea Elves, as I have said, have Milai as their champion and I believe she is only just coming to terms with the significance of her role. Certainly, she has had some influence over the river dragon, Si Lung, though she has not yet used its full power. What she understands about her ability to influence the Water Element, I do not know.” He paused again before whispering, “Others are less easily discovered, a blessing considering the power they might wield.”

“Like what?” demanded the voice.

“Well,” the elf began warily, “it is almost certain that the most evil and destructive of serpents, Tiamat – Bahamut’s most hated foe - is linked to a female that resides close to the Prime and has dominion over the Astral.” Eyes shut again, and with bowed head, the elf continued, “The way in which I believe that the Blooms could use their serpent’s knowledge to alter the fabric – and perhaps time - of their aligned Plane could rival the achievements of Inwe in Morgrad.”

“Go on…”

“Certainly Yishmay could use her power to create many practicably unassailable fortifications here on the Prime with Bahamut’s aid. Few Armies could stand in her way with the Great Serpent at the head of a huge, totally loyal force committed to remove all evil from the Prime forever.” With gathering strength seemingly born out of fear, the elf said, “Imagine what Tiamat could do with the Astral, and access to the outer Panes!”

It was the voice’s turn to whisper, “No wonder Wallorin kept his house so well hidden!”

Drawing himself up once again and with renewed vigour, Senforn challenged the vision, “Until you brought death and destruction to his door!”

“Glorious, wasn’t it?” Chided the phantasm, “Have I thanked you for pointing out where Wallorin would be? For leading us to Sorien so that we might take the Efferendil…” Laughing now, the voice’s real malevolence was felt, “What a betrayal! You have to be commended my friend, your fall from grace was quite stunning! Why was that by the way?” With tears in his eyes and cut lips drawn tightly back across broken teeth, the elf spat, “It was her!”

“Yishmay?” mocked the voice once again, knowing the answer and goading the elf.

“Yes!” he screamed, “How could she have spurned me after all I gave up for her? How could she have turned to that ugly, diminutive, oriental conjurer?” Laughing now, the voice pointed out the obvious, “I guess as much as she is loved by humans of law and good, she has the potential to be hated by others, less well aligned, deserved or accepted...”

“I gave her everything,” the elf sobbed, “my command, my life in Efferendil, my aspiration and entitlement, my devotion to her and her father.” Breaking down completely Senforn spluttered, “Even her father gave less than I…How could he desert her?”

“Until you told Inwe where she could find him,” the voice continued to prod the elf, despite his utter misery.

“Only after she told me where to look for Yishmay,” snivelled Senforn.

“Right into Iki’s trap!” the words struggled to break through the howling laughter, “No wonder you hate them as well! Was that why you told Demogorgon how he could infiltrate Vorsaykarai, your adopted home during Yagamato’s tenure? Was that why you betrayed Sorien, your Queen?” As if being beaten with a stick, each comment caused Senforn to shrink back and cry out in agony; however, the last question prompted a different response, “In fact, is there anything but hate in that carcass of yours?” the voice asked without malice.

“It has its uses,” sobbed the elf as if trying to draw strength from his hate, “I am still alive.”

“Imprisoned here, traded for promises. Did you think that my Lord Orcus would set you free? Did you hope he would reward you for your betrayals?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” screamed Senforn, “I told you everything!”

“Everything except that Milai was a Bloom and would be a far more difficult foe than we expected” began the voice, once again full of revulsion, “everything except that Inwe’s power was reduced to the extent that she was unlikely to be able to offer much support against Fontainver,” it continued, “Everything except that Iki was faced with dealing with the dwarven Bloom and would not be able or willing to help. In fact, Orcus blames you almost entirely for our failure to take Fontainver.”

“But…but…” stammered Senforn, struggling to comprehend what he had heard, “I did not think…”

“No, you did not! That is why I am here now,” the voice was strong and full of cruelty, “to make sure your thinking is no clearer when it finds its way to Demogorgon. What have you told your captors, this Malevolent Queen of the Derro?”

Alert now and fearful, “Nothing of importance,” blurted the elf, “Not even that I know she is a Bloom.” Then pleadingly, “Will you not to take me away from this place?”

“Oh no…” began the hissing voice, “well, let me say that rather depends on what more you have to offer.”

“What do you need to know?” begged the elf.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the voice mocked again, “Come on Senforn, you must have your suspicions, who is the Lawful Evil Bloom?” then, almost to itself, “To have that power in our grasp…”

“I really do not know,” Senforn began, before checking himself and snivelling, “And I would not tell you my suspicions, if I had any, until you guaranteed my safe release.”

“So you have suspicions?” probed the apparition.

“I might.”