Arcane Journey

Chapter 8 Rebellious Drow
The young female Drowsirin almost went crazy and escaped from the secret room that filled her with fear and frustration.

As a drow elf, the extreme darkness of the Underdark would only make her uncomfortable, but the eternal silence, combined with a pair of breathtaking eyes, made her shudder.

In Old Orens, the noise of the city dissolves into a constant, chant-like murmur, occasionally punctuated by a blood-curdling scream or two.

And in the chamber of the battle mage from the Kingdom of Cormyr.

Even the quietest sound of flipping a book was accompanied by a hollow echo, like a stone falling into a deep well, pounding her heart and ears.

Surrounded by deathly silence, as a wizard, she has the spiritual power to be calm all the time, and her heart is still beating uncontrollably.

Especially his eyes that were as cold as a pool of cold pools, whenever she was stared at, she could feel the fear curling up in her heart like a poisonous snake.

Fear was like a sharp sword, piercing into her heart fiercely.

The more Shirene recalled that scene, the more the blood vessels in her brain seemed to burst, almost every part of her body was trembling, and her hands and feet became as cold as ice.

She didn't dare meet Brian's eyes, she felt shuddering when she stood in front of him.

Fortunately, the long month finally came to an end today, the haze in her eyes was swept away, and she felt that she had never felt so relaxed like today.

She couldn't wait to get back to her room, and sat there with uncharacteristic patience.

There was a party tonight, in a mansion dedicated to parties, and she wasn't responsible for any of the details, just being there and enjoying.

As she took her seat, the ingenious halfling servant braided her hair into dozens of thin braids, then looped it into an elaborate coiffure.

Shireen usually let her long hair loose, but tonight she needed to style it so it could stand the party.

Evening dresses must also be durable enough to withstand strenuous exercise.

A pure white dress with bold cuts and a few slits on the hem of the skirt allows her to unleash her passion for dancing.

Tonight's feast is a 'Dance of the Faerie Fire', a competition of wild dancing feats exclusive to the drow.

The boring and tedious magic lessons made her fall in love with the feeling of being free and dancing with the rhythm.

Especially in a month that almost broke her, so she must indulge.

After all, desire is a field she is familiar with and can rest assured, and it is also a rare outlet for their drow elves to vent their emotions.

If not this, then what else?
She was completely ignorant of any other means of release.

Shirlin came to the mansion where the banquet was held. Her 'friends' had already gathered here. The custom required guests to arrive early so that they could chat and plan with each other and sip the mellow wine.

Accompanied by bursts of slow drums, Shirlin, who was fortunate to be the lead dancer, stepped into the center of the dance floor, and the 'Dance of the Demon Fire' began.

She enjoys this feeling very much.

Because at this moment, all eyes are on her, watching her dance steps to the rhythm of the drums, and the intricate curves drawn by her arms.

Soon, one after another, other drums joined in, not to be outdone, and even strange percussion instruments known only to the drow.

The deep flute plays a strangely impressive tune.

Elves sang this song in the sunlit lands many centuries ago.

Now, the long-gone elf may never hear the familiarity again.

Because the charming magic in the music is only the external expression of the indulgent life of the current performers.

Although the tune is still beautiful, it retains the mystery of the elves, but there is no joy at all.

Although the drow of the underground world have forgotten such things, they know how to enjoy themselves, and pursue them fanatically, in vain to fill the emptiness that no one knows in the depths of the elves' souls.

The rhythm of the music gradually accelerated, overshadowing the noisy syncopated drums, and the flute played a mysterious and weird tune with a low echo.

Xierlin swirls and leaps indulgently, responding to the rhythm of the music just right, her body lightly and swaying, inviting the drows who are eagerly waiting.

A magical flame flashed by, and the outline of the black dancer was outlined by the pure white demon fire.

It was the signal everyone was expecting, and the drow flocked to the dance floor.

Even at the ball, the drow still compete with each other.

Some people call out their talents and float in the air to complete intricate leaps, while others put aside complicated movements and use their delicate and gorgeous movements to attract eager eyes as much as possible.

However, regardless of the dance style, all drow must listen carefully when dancing, looking for clues that hide the subsequent music from the intricate dance music.

Because the rhythm of the performance is not uniform, it is always accompanied by sudden and almost random strong drum sounds.

Drow who fail to understand the rhythm of the music are in danger of stepping on the wrong beat.

Any drow who makes a wrong dance step will be surrounded by the dance floor, and a certain wizard who carefully observes the drow's twirling, jumping and stepping will surround him with bright demon fire like a referee.

These eye-catching unlucky dancers could only leave the dance floor in disgrace amidst a burst of ridicule.

But their entertainment did not end there, and all the onlookers would boo and bet on who would be the next unlucky person to leave the dance floor first.

The music continued to flow, and few skilled drow would miss intricate dance moves.

With steam blazing from their ebony faces, some of the dancers began to throw off their coats.

Because the frenetic 'dance of the demon fire' will continue until most of the dancers are exhausted.

A hired wizard floated above the dancers, his long fingers flapping and weaving spells.

In an instant, the music began to accelerate, and the fast tempo was almost impossible to keep up with.

But magic is also wrought on the dancers, whose steps still keep pace with the intense music.

They turned faster and faster, and colorful demon fire flashed on each drow's graceful and graceful body, bringing the 'dance of demon fire' into a dancing storm of magic.

Drums boomed, flutes whimpered.

Suddenly, the whole house fell into darkness and silence.

Such a spectacular spell caused applause from all the drow.

According to custom.

After the 'Dance of the Faerie Fire' is over, the dancers begin to shed their ornate decorations.

All the people attending the banquet were led into another room with naked bodies.

The hall is huge, with low ceilings and ventilation holes everywhere.

Aromatic steam pours into the house, cleansing the dancer's body and soothing weary limbs.

The direction and intensity of the airflow are constantly changing, or burst into short beating bursts, or turn into a gentle and passionate breeze.

Bathed in the steam, the drow enjoy a series of pleasant sensations, and they wander around, flirting with each other from time to time, or setting a lot of traps for social opponents.

As the last trace of steam disappeared without a trace, groups of drow flashed into the small doors around them.

in a private room.

With their new playmates, they relax on the couch, spread gossip, comment on witty conversations, weave conspiracies and tricks, and explore the mysteries of the birth of life
However, at this time, Xierlin clearly felt that something was missing in tonight's banquet.

It went so smoothly, so smoothly that she couldn't believe it.

Because normally, the
Thinking of this, she stood up suddenly and finally realized the problem.

Santilla Pumore did not attend today's banquet.

Wanting to understand the cause of the problem, she smiled slightly and lay comfortably on the couch again.

Because every time a banquet is held, whenever Santilla participates, there are many pranks that make people gnash their teeth.

According to the tradition of the drow clan.

A drow female's coming of age rite must be dedicated to the 'Spider's Kiss'.

So Santilla didn't qualify for after-prom entertainment.

However, she will wander in many rooms, looking for her own fun.

usually.

With her arrival, screams and gnashed curses would suddenly erupt in the hallway of the room.

Santillas love to cast harmless mischievous spells on their companions.

For example, the hands that are gently massaging suddenly become icy cold, the fragrant essential oil suddenly becomes pungent and spicy, the original object of pleasure suddenly becomes an ugly orc, and even some kind of spell that partially enlarges or shrinks.

Recalling some unpleasant memories, Shirring suddenly felt that tonight's banquet was probably the most satisfying for her, and even the shadow left by Brian was completely dispelled.

After all, tomorrow, these two people will disappear from her sight forever.

after a long time
The satisfied drows changed into bright party dresses, gathered in another banquet hall full of delicacies, and began to enjoy delicious food.

The conversation gradually became noisy.

Here and there are drow swapping to other tables, interacting with each other, or becoming new social companions.

When Xierlin heard that the last dish was magic pomfret, her inner anticipation became even higher.

For such feasts usually end in wild carousing, and the Pomfret pretty much ensures that the feast reaches a dizzying level.

While she was waiting anxiously, the door of the banquet hit the wall with a 'bang'.

Shirlin's face changed slightly, she didn't turn around, and she didn't even bother to move.

In her impression, there was only one person who would knock on the door in such a vigorous way, and she was even used to this alive and kicking friend.

The noisy people gradually quieted down, and most of them turned their attention to a drow girl who spun into the banquet hall with her arms outstretched.

Her wild, thick white hair flew through the air as she danced ecstatically.

When the girl came to Xierin, she suddenly stopped dancing, jumped on her, and said excitedly, "Xirin, Aunt Joanara said, I can finally accept the blood sacrifice, and I can participate tomorrow Coming of age ceremony."

"It's Matron! Please correct your wording, Santilla."

Xierlin emphasized, then stood up from the chair, and quietly broke free from the girl's passionate embrace.

Santilla wears traveling boots, tight leather trousers and a silk tunic on trend, and a fine chain mail vest.

Among their group of rich nobles and drow commoners, who pursue pleasure and intrigue with typical drow zeal, Santilla is undoubtedly the most popular female.

She's younger than most drow, her 30th birthday isn't until tomorrow, and she's in the middle of drow's long, crazy adolescence and rebellion.

And her face is as fresh and beautiful as a seventeen or eighteen-year-old human girl, and she also enjoys the status of wealth and the heir to the chief archmage.

Many young drow in the dark city have wealth, status and beauty, but Santilla, a little rascal, is extremely different in the ancient city of Orens because of her laughing nature and enthusiasm for pursuing life.

With the indulgence of the Chief Archmage, she also prefers the pursuit of adventure and magical lore to social intrigue.

Santilla loves to laugh, and loves to be laughed with, and since few drow share her unique sense of humor, she's taken to pranking her friends again.

Because of this, few can resist her unique charm, and many young drow vie for the chance to share her adventures.

Because the social status of the survivors can naturally be raised to a higher level, and wonderful stories can also be told in the evening gatherings.

Shireen never found it interesting.

To the drow, life is a cold, serious business, and magic is an art to be mastered, not a child's plaything.

Yet this particular 'drow girl' wields more powerful magic than herself, and it hurts her self-esteem deeply.

And that wasn't the only thing that made her resentful.

Matron Jornara, Shireen's own mother, had always shown special concern for the Chief Archmage's daughter—almost to the point of doting.

This is something she can never forget and forgive.

Even her blood sacrificial ceremony was so caring, she even went to Manto Dris and spent a lot of money to buy a battle mage from the Kingdom of Cormyr.

Although Mistress Joanara's goal is clear, she still hates it out of jealousy.

Because whenever the blood sacrifice ceremony is mentioned, her pain will be poked.

Her quarry turned out to be a kobold, which she slew with only a small dagger.

Her blood sacrifice felt more like a routine than the grand adventure Santilla fantasized about.

What she hates the most is that whenever Santilla is around her, her boyfriend looks like he is out of his mind.

The two of them were trained together from a young age, and soon after the adoption of Santila, the Chief Archmage became visibly impatient with the precocious and mischievous daughter, and sent her to her dead mother's Tux once and for all. The family is raised and trained by the mistress Joanara in the family.

A child rivalry quickly developed between her and Santilla, and it remained so for many years until she gave up in frustration.

Whether it is family status, wealth, or magical talent and charm, she has been completely defeated.

"In my opinion, it's overdue."

A male drow stared at Santilla intently, "You will be 30 soon, and you have already entered adolescence. Even I wonder why you waited so long."

Xierlin gave him a cold look, and the latter quickly shut up.

This is her new spouse, the son of a wealthy merchant.

He is a dirty nouveau riche, covered in expensive accessories, rich and powerful, full of energy but easy to tame, making him very popular among noble women in the circle.

"I think so too, and I specifically asked Aunt Joonara."

Santilla said dejectedly, "She explained it to me. She said that the ceremony would not be held until a suitable prey was found. I thought that the prey must be able to really test my magic. Think about it, a A grand and heroic hunt - adventure in the wild tunnels of the Dark Territory!"

"Mother Gorana."

Shireen coldly corrected the unruly drow girl again.

"I see, it's Mistress Giolana." Santilla repeated impatiently, then sat on the chair again, with her pretty face in her hands, and said whimsically:

"I'm really curious what the hunt is for tomorrow, I've heard that there are many wonderful and terrible beasts in the Bright Lands. I have also seen them in books, big wild cats with gold and black stripes, like marshes on all fours A big brown bear like a bear man, maybe it's a giant fire-breathing dragon."

The great adventure, the fire-breathing dragon, is unimaginably innocent.

Xierlin looked at the girl sitting in front of her, pondering whether her words were pure words from the heart.

"Dear Santilla, don't you know? This is fatal. Many young drow died in the blood sacrifice." A well-dressed male drow kindly reminded.

"Of course I know." Santilla smiled indifferently:
"Surprise attacks on the surface often go awry. Humans or goblins sometimes know the attack in advance and prepare in advance, or they are better at fighting than expected, or there are many of them. Even being stabbed in the ribs by the daggers of other drow."

She said truthfully, "In those festivals that take place underground, sometimes newcomers get lost in the wilds of the Underdark, or encounter monsters that are beyond their magic and weapon skills."

"Sometimes...it is also killed by its own prey." Another male drow added.

Santilla was stunned, then grinned again, and said confidently, "No matter what kind of monsters, I will give them a fatal blow. I will choose weapons and spells that are naturally suitable for them. Daggers are against beasts, and bows and arrows are against monsters." Birds. Well, not really, I have Fireball, Lightning Bolt, and Polymorph."

"To celebrate my upcoming festival, I bring you a long-awaited food."

Santilla stood up from the chair, reached out and patted the small bag on her waist, and a fish basket appeared on the dining table out of thin air, filled with lively silver fish.

She stretched out her hand and pointed, and a palm-sized fish was floating in mid-air, twisting and jumping.

The streamlined oval body, silver scales and delicate fins, as well as the lower jaw that is as wide as the body, full of sharp steel teeth, all show that this is a magic pomfret.

Shocked exclamations continued to come from the banquet.

Xierlin took a deep look at Santilla, and quickly put away the contempt in her eyes.

The magic pomfret is a small, ruthless fish that can devour a full-grown lizard down to its bones in a matter of minutes.

These fish are so vicious that they can jump out of the water and attack animals drinking from the river.

Their teeth are sharp and their jaws are so powerful that the first bite is often painless and unnoticed by prey.

However, the pain that followed came quickly.

Because blood dripping into the water can quickly attract countless greedy companions, hunting this fish is a dangerous business, and accidents are by no means uncommon.

You also have to go through the deserted and almost unpatrolled tunnels to the river.

The river itself is also dangerous. When the surface is calm, whirlpools will suddenly appear, and there are powerful undercurrents that come and go, and the magic pomfret is even more deadly.

Their meat is delicate and delicious, but horribly poisonous. When cooked carefully, the taste is more intoxicating than wine. As long as there is magic pomfret in a party, it will instantly become a feast.

at this time.

The magic pomfret that was bound by magic suddenly broke free in mid-air, twisted and opened its mouth, and fell straight down.

Shirlin's new spouse looked startled, and was so frightened that she quickly covered her lower body and shrank back.

However, this is unnecessary.

The magic pomfret was pointed by Santilla casually, and under the shackles of the magic power, it fell into the fish basket again with a snap.

"If you miss," the drow complained with lingering fear.

"I never make mistakes." Santilla showed a playful smile, and teased: "If you miss, you only need one bite, and you are useless at all. Shirlein should be upset."

Everyone roared with laughter, and the atmosphere of the whole banquet was brought to a new climax with the arrival of Santilla.

Seeing that everyone's eyes were on Santilla, Xierlin once again felt the shame of being ignored by everyone.

She came to hate Santilla Pummer with a purity and intensity far beyond anything she had ever experienced.

She hated Santilla's origin, hated her beauty, hated her intelligence, hated her high reputation in the crowd.

Wherever the little slut was, Shireen couldn't understand her pranks, and what was worse, she always felt like she was the butt of the joke.

She also hates Santilla's magical talent, she can easily learn magic that took her a whole year to understand, but what makes her hate the most is that Santilla has been enjoying unfettered freedom since the day she was born.

With the deliberate connivance of the chief archmage, she didn't even have to go to the Spider Academy and the Warlock Academy.

However, when she thought about the consequences that Santilla would face in tomorrow's blood sacrifice ceremony, she felt inexplicably happy.

This made her recall the battle mage from the Kingdom of Cormyr again.

A trembling fear floated through her heart instantly.

Since these two were the ones she hated so much, why didn't she think of a way to let them touch each other in advance.

Shirring suddenly felt that her idea was too wise.

Because with Santilla's exuberant curiosity, as long as she mentions it a little bit, she will definitely have a strong interest in the half-elf captives and a strong desire to tame them.

With the personalities of these two people, they will definitely fight and stage a magic duel in advance.

The final result, no matter who wins or loses, is what she wants to see most.

Shirin raised her head and looked at Santilla's smiling face, with an imperceptible sneer on her lips.

(End of this chapter)