Thread: The Overdue Destruction of House Vorn

Ryltar barely heard the goblin speak. The sound of life became a dull series of terrible throbs, only reminding him that he had lived through one more of his sibling's bad days. All he had done was petition a request to leave the House to resupply reagents and spell components for everyone, but was sure to leave out anything he could use. As usual, his youngest surviving sister Drae'bhaal, she felt that his request had been a waste of her time knowing full well she was devoid of Liver Caps and Rothe fibers. She just didn't want to be reminded of a bout of laziness and thusly reminded Ryltar to not remind her. The young wizard felt he was being hauled off somewhere, and to his bleary mind, he had hoped he would finally depart the Material plane and find some special place in Vhaeraun's wicked heart. Imagine to his suprise when the warm wound-cleaning water rushed into all of the deep whip lacerations igniting every nearve that had been damaged. The string of Undercommon curses flung from his mouth would have casued a few to seek shelter away from such terrible manners. Each time one of the long slinder slices were cleaned through, Ryltar grabbed at a towel, slowly weakening it's fibers with the bit of strength he did posess. With his remaining stebgth drained into the towel, Ryltar laid still and just breathed deep. This was a routine he had come to expect from his siblings, but the closer to death he got, the more he just wished it'd come already. He felt his body being ushered into warm water and recognized the feeling of the tub. In his haze of blood loss, he had forgotten that Jarikk had come to his aid, like always. In this moment, it was a fleeting thought of compassion for something to care for him so, but realized his weakness in the same split second. Opening his eyes to watch the goblin, he wore an all too familiar scowl. The wizard wasn't pleased with divine magics being used to mend his muscles, but he found it amusing that his manservant was just as crafty as some of his siblings. It was a treat to have such a useful sod in his command. He would scamper off to return with some important scroll or parchment to later have his sisters dueling in the Matron's court over something petty. It was pleasant to have something so devious around. As the spell was read off, the familiar feeling of thousands of tiny spiders pulling his back together came about and made him a little queezy. As his goblin mended his hand, he relaxed a little into the tub of warm warter. Ryltar was rather angry that his hand was injured, but he remembered it was his own doing. Letting the water soak into his lengthy hair, he was glad that the blood hadn't stained it badly. He would hate to have to cut it off once again. Jarikk's nimble fingers tingled and danced across his scalp expertly, making sure any traces of red stains were cleansed completely. When Jarikk departed, he rubbed his shoulder, guaging how badly these would scar. By the feel of it, they wouldn't be the worse of them, but at least two would remain rather visible. The goblin returned with a silken robe and helped the weary drow from his warm bath. Ryltar looked at the bathwater in disgust. He had seen worse, but it alwasy made him angry to see so much of his blood wasted soon-to-be discarded bath water. After being seated in a small squat chair, Ryltar held out the appropriate limbs as his manservant went about the task of drying him. The drow had always wondered why Jarikk acted so shameful about drying his groin. He wasn't sure if it was soe goblin shame that hadn't been bred out or if the creature had some adversion to his body. While the thought of having a goblin shameful at tending a duty to one of the most important parts of the young drow's body, Ryltar was a bit angered. He would dwell on this for many days to come. Possibly do some reading into goblin affinities and emotions. Ryltar was assited into his soft bed with Jarikk tucking him in quite comfortably. The goblin seemed lost in thought and that amused Ryltar to a small brief laugh. A goblin in thought. How ridiculous. he said unto himself with a faint smile. Something to eat to regain some strength. I have work to do this evening and you're to accompany me. If you'd fancy a story whilst I ate, that would be acceptable. he replied from the mound of pillows behind his head. He took a deep breath and stared at the canopy above him. He knew how expensive it had been to obtain an intace wooden bed, much less the pillow filled with the covering of a surface creature who was known for it's terrible call. yet, they were so comfortable compared to the webweave sheets and clothes his sisters prefered. It had a terrible cling to it, making it near impossible to work arcane magics in them. Ryltar waited as patiently as a drow could for the goblin to return. The meeting replayed in his mind as he tried to pick apart all of what she said to make his secret outing worthwhile. He had to plot every possible angle out to make sure he wasn't tortured again for just restocking the spell components his sisters and Matron just seemed to burn through as fast as he could sneak them in. Ryltar felt lucky as he knew he had a cache on the Etheral plane for his own private needs. Lost in his own thoughts and schemes, the drow reclined into the mounds of surfacer goods and carefully plotted the length, yet earned demise of his House.