"This portrait is meant to capture your essence. Would you be willing to show us how you worship Talos? And of course, if it does require a sacrifice, the dwarf is an intern." -Crete
I can say with certainty that never in my life have I awoken to such a harsh and irritating noise. Nor did I have any idea what could have possibly made such a noise in my usually dark and quiet room. Dazed, I jerked up from my lovely kelp bed, holding my head and attempting to shake off the sudden ringing. I can feel the leftover sleep in my eyes as I open them blearily, only to see an odd group before me. A quick glance tells me this is likely an adventuring party. Not good, but they haven't tried to take my head off... yet. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something disapparate from the stone bed post.
"Good morning, I hope we didn't wake you too hard," greets a voice from across my room.
Peering past the two cold fireplaces that lie in the center of this room, I spot an elf and a firbolg seated upon the stone table that makes up my study space. What remains of my tentacles stiffen as I realize they are atop some of the star charts and nautiloid schematics I had placed there.
"Hello..." I greeted back softly as I cautiously glide to my feet, my telepathy encompassing all four in the greeting, including the minotaur just now entering and the dwarf hesitating at my door.
The elf spoke again, "I am Luciel Morelle, and these are my friends-"
"Kala," quips the firbolg.
"Crete Thunderhooves," the minotaur rumbles.
"And my name is Galvar Bronzehands. Pleased to meet'cha," the dwarf quotes in a northern accent.
The young elf pipes up again, "I am an elf," –as if that weren't obvious– "and you are very interesting. What is your name?"
I narrow my eyes just a bit. Why would this elf be introducing himself and his party to me? What motive could they have? Any reasonable adventurer stumbling upon a sleeping illithid would not have hesitated to kill them. So why is my head still attached to my body? Even with my tentacles gone, it is clear enough what my species is. Unless...they have never heard of my kind? I should answer the elf.
"My name is not verbally pronounceable, but you may call me Lephilodi," I responded calmly. Despite the prickle of fear in the back of my mind, wishing for me to flee, I cannot leave without my papers. They are too priceless. I can feel the resonance stone around my neck thrumming beneath my robes, forcing me to stay calm and rational as always. "Why are you here? I came to this abandoned, haunted Dwarven fortress to be alone. And perhaps more importantly, how did you get past the shield on the door and into this room?"
"With this," came the response from Luciel. The blond elf tosses another small stone towards me. “It has quite a unique property. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” His eyes sparkle with youthful curiosity.
I catch the stone in my hand, and sure enough, it was the stone I had in place to erect the shield against the undead while I slept. Of course. It seems they pried it out and broke in. At least the dwarf had manners and was waiting outside the door. “Mm. I see.”
“While I’m sorry to disturb your rest, but we have a slight issue. You see, we have been tasked to clear out this fortress for a town. As you clearly like to be alone, this pertains to you as well. Should they need to, they will move here. And that will disturb you a good deal.” The elf stands up from the table, much to my relief.
This time, the firbolg speaks. “You see, there is a white dragon roaming the area, and while we are going to remove that threat, should it attack the town, the people will flee here for protection.”
I pause to think about the situation for a moment. A town of humans would be arguably worse than a sole adventuring party. “I see. The danger would be too great for me to stay. Humans fear what is different. What they don’t understand.” The party members all seem to agree with me.
“Are you lonely Lephilodi?” Luciel’s eyes meet my own as my head jerks back up.
Why on earth would he ask me that? Is he trying to find an emotional weakness? I have none. This question reeks of suspicion to me. But perhaps he is being genuine. It would not be the first time in my seventy years of life that a humanoid actually treated me with compassion, as much as I may have disliked it. “Not particularly, but I suppose it could behoove me to have, what do humanoids call them? Ah, friends.” Or at least meat shields against a possible inquisition. “I would not be adverse to your company I suppose.”
Luciel speaks up yet again. “Great! We are almost done here. We just have some of the upper floor left. Once we are done, we will leave. If you’d like, well, I am interested in learning more about all of this. If you’d like to come with us, I’m open to that.”
I am a little stunned. This group must be either inexperienced, foolish, or both to offer an ulitharid a place among their party. They seem to talk amongst each other while I am processing what just happened, and I finally am able to tune back into their conversation towards the end.
“I’m pretty sure just the giant spiders I saw upstairs in the bastion are all that’s left,” Kala muses. “But I don’t know how to get back up there with Crete. The passage I took was too small for him to fit.”
I suppose my knowledge of the stronghold will be helpful this day. “There are no creatures of intelligence left in the fortress. But I can lead you up to the bastion. The stairs are not far.” I move past them and take my outer cloak from the tentacled creation I placed in the corner next to the door. The covering relaxes me some, and once I pull up the hood I pull the white veil into place over my mouth. Inexperienced as they may be, they may yet be disturbed by the appearance. “Follow me.” I lead them down the hall and into the next room where the bastion’s stairwell is, pausing as Kala, Galvar, and Crete excitedly gather the bolts from the seven untouched ballista within this chamber.
“I have 95 ballista bolts!” the firbolg says excitedly to her peers.
I tilt my head in confusion until I see them place the bolts into her bag of holding. Ah. I look back to Luciel as he approaches me.
“So Lephilodi…” The young elf pulls out some papers from his bag. “Can I ask you what languages you know?”
I give pause as he pulls out what are clearly hastily copied versions of my papers and schematics back in my room. “You copied my work…”
He gives me a slightly sheepish smile.
“Well, I can speak Common telepathically like I am doing with you now, but I also know Undercommon and Deep Speech. The writing you have there is in Qualith, the written language of my people.” I decide not to tell him he can translate it using magic.
“Oh, I see.” Luciel slowly puts the paper back in his bag, and the party seems ready to move forward.
Crete heads up the steps first to deal with the spiders, but Luciel quickly incapacitates four of them with a spell. I then float overhead of them and use my mind blast to stun the remaining three. Kala clears up the thick webs in the room with a quick flame. Crete and Galvar take care of the rest in quick succession. They quickly regroup once the fight is over.
“So…” I pause. “What was this about destroying a white dragon?”
The city of Galvar is unpleasant at best and downright hostile at worst, in spite of what the tourism bureau wants you to believe.
Setting study for a current comic project.
