A look of disinterest settles over Alicavniss Vonnarc’s nighted features, her gaze elsewhere and unconcerned. “The Azrinaes departed our fair home for a realm far to the east and north, even deeper below your surface home in the deepest reaches underground known as Orv. There, they conspire in a somewhat legendary cavern known as the Land of Black Blood. The Azrinaes were led there by their new matron, that mad snake Allevrah. It is she who seeks to call down the very heavens, to scour the lands of light of our frail kindred with the ancient aboleth glyph magic. Our legends of that time, of Earthfall, are quite vivid, and judging from what you have experienced this is a very real threat."
“She’s ambitiously chosen to stab at her Demon Lord’s enemy’s very heart. The
Land of Black Blood lies beneath the hateful surface realm of Mendev where the Wandstones stand holding back the Demon Lord Deskari and his hosts. Unlike in the days before Earthfall, millennia ago, this time there will be no sages spouting prophecies, no mages offering warnings. There will be no time for cowardice, abandonment, and retreat. The elves will not escape this second darkness when it comes down upon them. That is, unless someone were to stop this.
“I bear no love for House Azrinae and their fanatic mistress. Where dear Allevrah sees vengeance and glory, I see calamity and the impulses of the lowborn. A strike powerful enough to destroy the all the Wardstones would certainly cause upheavel down below as well, and I am too comfortable with my current situation to let a lowborn trollop like Allevrah ruin that. And so I’ve told you what I know, and where these vipers nest. Even further, I know of a gap back to the world of light, a still functioning elf gate two days journey from here, that provides a connection to Kyonin—a connection, I might add, that my kin have known about for some time but are hesitant to use for various reasons all amounting, I suspect, to cowardice. I have modified the elf gate temporarily to connect to a gate near the Land of the Black Blood.”
She produces a pale scroll from her desk. “This map follows a plain route, which will lead you swiftly from our realm.”
Knitting her long, thin fingers—both of flesh and of iron—the dark elf ’s voice takes on a dread seriousness. “Our bargain is completed, yes, and I have granted you the further boon of your return path home. Should you manage to ever see your noxious sun again, in your short remaining years when you speak of your time here in the soothing dark, let your people know the might and splendor of the drow, and that first among them, Alicavniss Vonnarc, is generous.”
“A final gift to speed you along, my puppets.” Arcane words flow from her mouth and the your Drow flesh begins loses pliancy and ages rapidly, shedding from your frame as your natural form resolidifies. A quick and painless transition, though incredibly messy and smelly. by the time the corpse skin falls off you find yourself shunted through the portal in her room and in the top level of the Soclar Tower in House Vinnarc.
“Guards we have intruders!” rings out within the tower.