04. Musings of an artist by Vonagh
Musings of an artist.
vonagh
Vonagh Noluolin sat in the courtyard of First House of Olath Xal. His gaze shifted around it, landing for a moment on the grotesque items that cluttered the otherwise fascinating entry garden. No matter how long he sat here, he was still astonished at what a horrid misassembled grouping of garbage had been tossed about such a small space. He associated it to a druegar rummage sale. But this wasn’t junk, it was a jumble of statues, trophies and experiments deemed important to House Tagnik’zur Xal.
Within the courtyard, a magical energy trickled through the air. It made his skin tingle and his muscles relax. Over his shoulder he heard a pair of priestesses claim the rejuvenating energy was a showing of Lolth’s favor. They said it would ensure the House’s position for centuries. Olath Xal would always belong to Matron Jysdiira.
Von had no idea if any of this was true, he was more concerned with his own hide. After all, he was not a member of the house. He was just an artist; a starving but surviving artist. And that was not easy to become within drow society. Most of his fellow artisans wound up dead before they reached the age of 70. After all, artwork from an artist was always more valuable after the artist was dead. Hard work and ruthless determination had kept Vonagh alive this long.
Wrapping his arms around his knees, he rested his chin upon their peak while his mind wandered deep in thought. A tugging at his heart reminded the artist that possibly his time had finally run out. He had caught the eye of Elderboy Rylyrr Tagnik’zur Xal, Paladin of Lloth and the first son of the most powerful House within the largest drow city this side of the Mainlands.
“I was worried about you. Where have you been?” It was a voice Vonagh knew and had never been more thankful to hear. Rising, he turned and found his assistant and friend standing behind him.
“Dhaun!” He exclaimed as he enwrapped the taller drow in a warm embrace.
“You look like you’ve been to the surface and back, Master Von.” The other chuckled.
“I feel like I have.” Reluctantly, he released his friend. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to be allowed in.”
Dhaun’s eyes narrowed at his Master’s obvious change in demeanor. He had never seen him so shaken. “What has happened? You disappeared yesterday and didn’t return. When Tagnik’zur guards showed up this morning, we all feared the worst.”
Von motioned to the large obsidian dragon statue in the southeast corner of the courtyard. “I finished the sculpture. Apparently the Elderboy found it so fascinating he decided I must stay and rework the whole yard.” That was only a partial truth, but it was good enough.
Dhaun wasn’t fooled though, “So you are staying here, in this stuffy castle?” The words dripped with disgust.
“Apparently he wants me here in case a vision comes. Those can come at any time of the day or night.”
Dhaun snarled, “For how long? Until you are no longer interesting? Then what, do you disappear off the face of Rosha because your Elderboy doesn’t share his toys? I never took you the type to give into the system!”
Frustration was growing inside of Vonagh at his friend’s atrocity for voicing his own fears so openly. Stunned, he had no response.
Dhaun continued, having seen the truth of his words on his Master’s face. “Damn bluebloods! Eilistraee will give you strength to fight them.”
“SHHH!!” Von snapped. Anger darkened the artist’s mismatched eyes. He glanced around, a pair of priestesses was gossiping not but ten feet away. The way in which they sneered in their direction was disdainful but not hostile. Possibly they were discussing why a pair of lower-class males were within the blessed courtyard. It was a good sign though; apparently neither had overheard his assistant’s potentially deadly slip of the tongue.
Dhaun couldn’t believe it though, “Since when have you been afraid to speak your mind?”
“Since now!” he spat.
Shaking his head, Dhaun watched his Master mournfully. Something had indeed happened and Von wasn’t sharing. The hand that had remained on his Master’s shoulder slid down his back reassuringly. “Do the work, Master. Take the gold and get out of here. It’s bad for you here. Do this as fast as possible.”
Vonagh nodded, “Xas, my thoughts exactly. I need you to do something for me. I’ll get a cart and rothe, take it and get my supplies from the studio. Get all the paint and chisels. Don’t bother with the wheels. If I need them, I’ll use them as an excuse to go home.”
Dhaun nodded obediently and he let his hand fall back down to his side. Inwardly though he cursed at the one that had caused such a sudden change in his Master. May Eilistraee grant you strength, Master Von. You are going to need it.
Tues, Oct 29th – 4:02PM
Musings of an artist.
rylyrr
It had been simple enough, the object of his obsession was right where Elderboy Tagnik’zur Xal thought he’d be, in the courtyard of his new lover’s home. Rylyrr studied the younger drow undetected, the platinum hair was cut short, his clothes as worn and colorfully splotched with paint as the shirts Vonagh favored. Dhaun was pacing, hands locked behind his back, his anxious expression also contained more than a trace of anger. The older drow’s upper lip lifted into a sneer, he would not let anything stand in the way of what he wanted and he wanted Vonagh. Control was the trademark of the Tagnik’zur Xal blood, control was something that vanished when it came to Rylyrr’s thoughts concerning the drow with the mismatched eyes. Something about the rebellious artist stirred his blood and his loin, the attraction had been immediate, arcing between the two like invisible lightning that neither could ignore. An unparalleled possessiveness dictated that Rylyrr remove any obstacle or rival and that meant this young drow pacing back and forth in Vonagh’s enclosed patio.
The Elderboy of the First House phased out of sight then appeared in front of Vonagh’s startled assistant and lover. Rylyrr’s hands wrapped easily around the younger drow’s neck and he began to crush the life out of him. The hatred reflected on Rylyrr’s sinister face twisted the sharp planes into almost a demonic mask. “He is MINE!” Over and over he smashed his knee upward into the man’s unprotected groin, each blow accompanied by those words. He wondered how Vonagh possibly could be attracted to such a weak specimen, the drow caught in his stranglehold was thin to the point of being almost gaunt.
Dhaun heard the words of the enraged man but didn’t know whom he was talking about, he’d never seen this white-haired holy fighter of Lloth’s before. Dhaun never stood a chance, the first drive of the nobleman’s armored knee had forced the fight right out of him, nearly spiraled him into unconsciousness, it was the nail-like sparks of white-hot pain driven repeatedly into his crotch that prevented escape into oblivion. He clawed at the older drow’s wrists, tried to force him to give up the relentless pressure on his throat that was cutting off his air supply, tiny motes of light began to dance around the dimming edges of his vision. But the younger drow’s attempts were futile, his attacker larger, stronger and set on killing him. Dhaun tried to get his fingers into a particular pocket of the paint-splattered smock he wore, desperation made his fingers shake so much that even though he managed to locate the glass vial that contained a potent knockout powder, when he withdrew it and tried to break the end off with his thumb the small container slipped from his fingers.
Rylyrr was so caught up in his jealous rage that he was unaware of what his lover’s assistant tried to do, he grew taller while forcing the smaller man to his knees. Sickening sounds of bone wrenching and popping could be heard but not coming from the vertebrae of Dhaun’s cervical spine, rather it came from under Rylyrr’s heavy magical armor that grew with his body as the metamorphosis from drow to his natural form occurred. Razor-sharp talons replaced fingertips and the nobleman removed one of his hands from around his victim’s throat and lowered it to the thin man’s chest. The stark terror that appeared on Dhaun’s young features when Rylyrr’s inky black skin began to spot with sickening splashes of mauve color fueled Rylyrr’s twisted jealous rage. He could do more than see the naked horror etched on the younger man’s face, it filled his entire being with a heady power, one more satisfying than any artificial effect he’d experienced from the various drugs that permeated drow culture.
A split second later Dhaun found himself bent completely under the unknown monstrosity, the sharp angles of his attacker’s features grew bolder, harsher, and vaguely draconic under mottled skin that seemed to glisten in the faint light of the courtyard, the jaw lengthened and dark lips and flesh disappeared into a hardened, bony nightmarish beak. His hand never made it back into the pouch for another vial before he felt the a slash of searing pain when one of the creature’s talon sliced neatly between his ribs, cutting through flesh and cartilage with surprising ease. A powerful buzzing began to fill Dhaun’s ears at the same time a weightless feeling spread throughout his weakening body.
Curling his hand into a fist after making the incision over the drow’s heart, Rylyrr pulled his arm back for the final strike. He snapped into the Dhaun’s mind when his bulging eyes began to roll back in his head alerting him to how close the young drow was to dying prematurely. <
The pain the young drow was in paled next to the realization that he was going to die here, in the courtyard of his Master’s home. It was then that he realized just who this monster had to be and why he was about to die. He was dying because of Master Vonagh and the affection the two shared, which was the only explanation that made sense. Dhaun was compelled to obey the Elderboy’s demand and he focused on that grotesque visage just before he felt an indescribable wrenching in his upper body. A deep slurping, suction noise filled the small private courtyard followed by further snapping of bone when the firstborn son of Matron Jysdiira yanked his arm free of the chest cavity, his three fingers and thumb greedily clutching the prize.
<
Rylyrr never got the chance to taste the succulent gray matter, he vanished dissatisfied and left the body where it fell.
Tues, Nov 5th – 2:49PM
Musings of an artist.
vonagh
Vonagh finally crawled back to work the next morning at the insistence of Rylyrr. The drow artist would much rather have spent the whole day curled up in the silken sheets of Rylyrr’s luxurious bed. But, Rylyrr insisted that Vonagh’s time for mourning was over and he needed to get back to work.
Rylyrr had gone out on business three days ago, which had allowed Vonagh some free time. That was when he went back to his studio to let Dhaun know how great the Citadel was and that his fears were unfounded. Ironically, it was the studio that had not been safe.
The shock of discovering Dhaun murdered was almost too much for the young artist. True, Dhaun was just his assistant and sometimes lover, but Vonagh had always felt emotions very strongly. And he cared deeply for his aide, who had been with him for 25 years. He also believed in the absolute truth of his visions, not once had he felt any danger for his friend.
The next few days were a blur as Vonagh started drawing. Every wrinkle, every angle of his lost friends’ face was painstakingly rendered onto parchment. Von didn’t pause to eat or sleep, the images gushing out of him like tears. Every detail was recreated, from the way Dhaun’s mouth would turn up when he smiled to the way his eyes would darken when he was angry. There was a drawing created about when they first met, and images of Dhaun’s body on the floor of the courtyard. And while Von didn’t actually see the body, he knew.. his neck had been broken, his heart ripped from his body while it still beat. He had been brutally slaughtered, his heart had benn consumed and the body discarded like a husk. All of it was a true outpouring of images, randomly cascading out of the sorrow-filled artist. When he had drawn on every corner of the parchment and canvas, he worked with clay. He mixed up a dark gray clay and piled it in a large mound the size of a table in the center of his studio and continued to work.
Endlessly, the artist carved and molded the clay. Lumps and mounds evolved into curves and angles and eventually into the perfect likeness of Dhaun. With perfect timing, just as the artist was placing the final delicate features into the lifeless tribute of his friend, Rylyrr was there. Strong and beautiful Rylyrr, returned from whatever escapade had taken him from Olath Xal. Vonagh threw himself into the Elderboy’s arms and sobbed on his shoulder.
The servants exchanged glances, for they had seen the true anger in Rylyrr. They witnessed the way Rylyrr’s hand had gone to his sword moments before their master had embraced him. Chul had been in the studio the night Dhaun was killed, and while he was not an observer to the murder, he did see a shape roughly Rylyrr’s size and build outside the household. K’rath had made the remark that the way Dhaun’s heart was ripped from his body that it looked like a crime of passion rather than a random attack on someone deep in the city. It couldn’t be the beholder-kin that had been seen roaming through the southern passages.
As the two men embraced, the two servants held their tongues, they had both fretted over Vonagh these past few days, offering food that had gone untouched and seeing to the final affairs of Dhaun. Both would kill or be killed for their master, they cared for him so, but not yet. With Vonagh wrapped up in the Elderboy’s arms, attacking now would do more harm than good. They would wait, and find a way to warn their lord about the danger his new lover possessed.
Tues, Nov 5th – 2:59PM