This orphanage was small, segregated from the city for the care of children forgotten or unwanted, the spawn of criminals and such-like. It seemed the perfect place for Alyithra to extend her 'helping' hand, an opportunity to show that she could engage with the school's extra-curricular activities. Quite what the orphanage's owners and carers would make of her was quite another matter.
She sat in a central room, deliberately darkened, with only a single flickering candle for light at the centre of the circle of children drawn about her. They had been promised a story, and with a wicked little smile playing about her lips, Alyithra was about to oblige, her fingers wriggling to create a shadow's illusion against the light to illustrate her words.
"There was once a young servant-boy who longed to be noticed, yet his tasks were dull and unlikely to bring him the attention he desired. Scrubbing, cleaning, tending the herds; these were not tasks in which legends are born."
Small faces framed in shadow by the flickering candlelight lit up with smiles as the softly-spoken drow woman spoke, drawing the weaving threads of her tale around them with infinite patience. Their eyes focused upon the writhing shadow shapes that performed the story for them, innocent enjoyment spreading between them. Only Alyithra knew how this might end.
"One day, as he was tending his House's roth? herds, he decided to try to get attention for himself.
"The svirfneblin," he cried. "They are raiding our roth? herd!"
He raised so great a fuss that warriors came running. When they arrived, he told them that he had driven off the cowardly deep gnomes and saved the herd.
They did not challenge his words, but one of them scoffed at the notion that mere deep gnomes could get so close."
A pause here, to explain the words unusual to the children around her - roth? herds, cattle raised in the Underdark for food and sport, and svirfneblin, the deep gnomes who provided such fine sport for the nobles of the drow Houses.
Fascinated, the children inched closer under Alyithra's glittering crimson gaze, caught up in a simple fairytale so similar in construction to one they already knew, given a different twist by the culture from which their newest playmate originated. And now, as she spoke, she wove an illusion of sound about them, the suggestion of the harshness of a drow male's voice, the braying of the roth?, and the heavy silence of the Underdark.
"The boy watched them leave, and felt bitter, knowing he still did not have the attention he wanted.
Since even the most foolish drow know one should not try the same lie twice, he sat down and thought of a new foe to blame.
The very next cycle, therefore, he cried out, "Hook horrors! Hook horrors attack the herd!"
Warriors came running, and he told them that his shouts had frightened the monsters away."
Another word that needed explanation, and one Alyithra gave with vicious merriment. The predatory hook horror, an aberration that stood about nine feet tall and weighed almost 350 pounds; covered with a mottled grey exoskeleton, extremely thick, as difficult to breach as metal armor. Instead of hands, paws, or claws, its front limbs ended in 12-inch-long razor-sharp, blade-like hooks. It hunted by sound, could tear a body limb from limb in a matter of moments, and even as she offered up this explanation, the auditory illusion that wrapped about them spun and clacked in an accurate mimic of these dangerous predators' voices.
Some of the young faces had turned an interesting shade of pale, sickened and frightened by the thought of a real monster that could do such a thing. None left the circle, each determined to prove that they could be brave. But some among them now began to suspect that this was no ordinary fairytale.
"The warriors glanced among themselves, and then kicked and struck at the boy, giving him many sharp blows.
One of them growled to him, "Fool! To lie is one thing, but you lie without knowledge and so insult us. A hook horror hunts using sound, and would have killed and eaten you."
For being found out in his lie, and for thinking it through so poorly, the warriors took him out on their patrol and staked him out as live bait for hook horrors. A hook horror came and tore him apart, and began to eat him, when the warriors used that diversion to kill it in a surprise strike."
A small outcry rose from among her young audience, some disgusted by this turn of events, others still more frightened, for the shadow shapes in the flickering candlelight did just as the drow woman said. The hideous silhouette of the hook horror fell upon the boy, tearing him apart as the clicking, sonic schreech of its voice echoed in the room all around them. Tears sprang into the eyes of some as they clutched at one another; yet others leaned closer, bright-eyed and vicious in the manner of small children, eager to know what consequences there were to the warriors' punishment.
Alyithra smiled at the varying reactions, allowing her illusions to fade, leaving them sitting in the silence of the darkened room. "They rode home on their lizards and were praised for doing their duty so well, and a new guardian was chosen for the roth? herds. The old one was forgotten forever and his name never spoken again."
The candlelight reflected in her crimson gaze gave an infernal flicker as she paused, drawing out the moral of her tale until they all, coward and courage alike, waited with baited breath. " ... as he deserved, for being such a fool."
When their caregivers returned, it was to find a strange division among their charges. There were tears and fears of the dark on the one hand; on the other, there were curious entreaties as to the sharpest swords, the most powerful weapons. Alyithra Dro'Vhid was thanked for her time, and with her soft smirk still in place, she departed the orphanage ... leaving behind her nightmares for the fearful, and the promise of adventure for the strong.
((The fairytale is taken from A Drow Child's Book of Fairy Stories by lady_rilwen on LJ. It was just too perfect not to use!))
