Rithwraith
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Greetings all. Thanks as always to readers and commenters. I’ve tried to fill a few requests in this chapter (or begin to at least). Truth be told there’s not as much tickling as there could have been in this chapter, but it makes for a lot of promise for the next one, in theory.
Chapter 5 – Three considerable misfortunes
“You know, I thought you were starting to enjoy it towards the end. I guess this proves me right.”
Imoen shot a half vengeful, half fearful look at Darras who was himself gazing down at her restrained feet, which he had become very familiar with over the last three hours. (Although to her it felt like he’d been tickling her and Aerie for days.) Her feet still itched from the memory and it took a conscious effort to keep them still.
When finally their torment had come to an end, four thieves had emerged from upstairs to sneak them out of the building. One of them had been carrying a fat coin purse precariously in their trouser pocket and Imoen had been sure she could sneak it into her own pocket with no one seeing.
As it was, she couldn’t. The next thing she knew she was back in the stocks, her arms tied over her head and her clothing, save for her underwear, strewn about the floor.
“What were you thinking?” Aerie asked, her voice less panicked or outraged now that she was standing free beside Darras. Since she had not tried to steal anything the thieves had been willing to let her leave quietly, but once she learned they’d be tickling the fool who landed her in the dungeon in the first place, she had insisted on helping.
“Look I’m sorry okay?” Imoen said to Darras, “I just wasn’t thinking at the time. It’s force of habit you know? There was the purse and I just took it.”
“Yeah I know what it’s like.” Darras said, nodding. “When thievery’s in your blood it just comes naturally. You don’t even realise you’re doing it sometimes”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Imoen said eagerly, “It was just an accident. No harm done, just let me go. Please?”
“Oh no,” Aerie spoke up, taking a step forward “I think you definitely need another lesson about controlling your greed, and I still owe you for getting us into this mess.”
“Oh come on Aerie, I thought we were a team. Help me!”
“I am helping you, in a spiritual sense.” She said with a sarcastic smirk, taking another step forward, placing herself within reach of Imoen’s feet in the process.
“Besides,” Darras added, “you’ll only be here another hour. I’m supposed to be attending a team building seminar or something like that later this evening.”
Another hour might as well be another month as far as Imoen was concerned. She couldn’t take this. The thought of having to endure this torture all over again was enough on its own to make her want to scream.
“Let’s get to it then shall we?” Darras said to Aerie, his new P.A, whom he’d been torturing less than an hour beforehand, “Where would you like to work?”
“Her feet please.” She said, remembering vividly how very sensitive they were as she took one final step forward.
“As you wish,” Darras replied, stepping around Imoen and crouching behind her back. Immediately she began to squirm in anticipation of the fingers she expected to dig into her underarms or waist any minute.
Instead it was Aerie who started first, impatiently raking her long fingernails over Imoen’s already ravished and now especially fragile soles, once more sending shameless howls of laughter resounding throughout the guild building.
“AAAaaaaaahhh! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! No! Aerieeeeeeeee he he he he he he he he he he he he! Staaaahaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Aaaaarrrieeee daahahahahahamit! Pleeeahahahese!”
“Look on the bright side Imoen,” Aerie said as she paused to give her ‘friend’ time to breathe, her ‘moral guide’ veneer steadily giving way to the desire for vengeance, “at least I’m not going to suck your toes.”
“I might.” Darras said lazily.
It hadn’t taken Darras long to move his tongue from Imoen’s feet to Aeries’, and back again, and back again and so on. The effect was utterly maddening, her throat still ached a fair bit from the resultant screams.
Imoen’s self serving actions had once again made a bad situation worse, although he might have done the same thing had she said nothing, he certainly wouldn’t have done it so quickly.
To Darras’ surprise, and not inconsiderable relief, Aerie seemed to blame Imoen entirely, overlooking his role in her torment despite the fact that he had administered it. He decided not to press the issue. By the looks of the gear they’d seized, she was a mage of no small power, probably someone it was best not to get into a fight with.
But if worst came to worst, he could always charge out the back door and lose himself in the alleys. Besides, what with Imoen still bound before him, an upcoming retreat was a prospect that could wait.
Imoen had become so focused on the onslaught Aerie had wreaked upon her feet that she had forgotten that Darras was standing behind her.
With both hands he began to tickle Imoen’s defenceless underarms. She squeaked in surprise before her brain started to register the new tickling sensations. When it did a half second later however, she started to wriggle her entire body as best she could. Her upper body wasn’t as ticklish as her feet, but with both areas being tickled at the same time she could only just bring herself to remember to plead for mercy.
“Gaaaahahahahahahahads! He he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he Aaaeerieee I’m sorha ha ha ha ha ha ha reeeeehe he he he he he he he he he he he he he he! Pleeasee he he he he he he he he! Leeehe he he heve my feeeeheheheet alone! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Daaaarahahahahahahahahassss Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Staaahap!”
Aerie was having none of it. Now she had moved her spindly fingers upwards, to tickle between each of Imoen’s cute toes. This was perhaps not a deed befitting of a cleric of a good deity, but at the moment she was having too much fun to care.
Darras too had no intention of showing mercy. He was now moving his hands down to her hips and then back up to her underarms at random. The feel of the cute thief’s warm skin was making the prospect of moving his torturous ministrations to her breasts all the more tempting. He doubted her friend was angry enough with her to allow that however. Add to which, he’d probably spend the next fifteen days feeling guilty about it if he did. The hypocrisy of that theory wasn’t lost on him, but in the interrogation business it generally helped to employ a selective sense of morality.
After a few more minutes they stopped once again to rest their hands and give her time to breathe. Imoen found she could do little but hang forward as much as her bonds would allow her to and breathe. She could picture Aerie’s smug face at her ‘just punishment’ or whatever she would call it. She knew that Aerie was a stuck up, do-no-wrong type and felt a need to cast her opinions of how things should be on anyone and everyone, but this was going too far. As soon as she was free she was going to make sure Aerie paid for this.
It was that prospect that gave her the strength not to scream with terror when Aerie asked in an innocent tone of voice whether he’d like to swap sides.
Meanwhile (and some years later, if you’ll forgive my disregard of chronology)
In the Underdark, the prospect of casually wandering around in the darkness for no purpose other than to appreciate the scenery would be unthinkable. To do the same on the surface therefore felt more than a little peculiar, which only added to the fun of it. That wasn’t to say that perils and beasts didn’t lurk in the dark places on the surface, but in contrast to the Underdark, the moonlit forest that Nathyrra was strolling through might as well have been Helm’s Hold, (Helm’s Hold three years ago at least).
It had been three and a half months since the Hero of Waterdeep, the Kobold bard and herself had bested the Arch-Devil Mephistopheles. With the Valsharess also dead, Llolth still nowhere to be seen and Drow society engulfed in a storm of chaos, infighting and confusion not known since the scattering, the followers of Eiliestraee were finding life that much easier. The small surface settlement of Nai Hallvai was virtually overflowing with new converts and recent escapees brought to the surface.
Though she was pleased to see her people and her faith growing in number, Nathyrra still found herself enjoying such moments of solitude as this more than she did the larger events such as the endless ritual dances. Assassins, or even former assassins, weren’t great ones for large groups.
It was a beautiful night, stars blanketed the night sky and there was not a cloud nor the slightest chill in the air. Nathyrra found that she preferred the relatively comfortable darkness to the blinding force of daylight, which her eyes were still having a hard time getting accustomed to. The Seer told her that she would adapt eventually, nevertheless there was something about this mesh of light and darkness in the surface’s night hours that stirred her soul far more than the oft-mythical sunlight.
Though she was indulging in the newness of her surroundings, Nathyrra made it a point not to lose sight of the torch fires of her new home on the horizon, her right hand also stayed firmly placed on the hilt of the dagger attached to her belt.
It is, alas, a sad fact of existence that one quasi-alert Drow enthralled by the night sky is no match from three fully alert female Drow focused on her.
With almost unnatural stealth, the three obsidian figures descended silently from the trees, landing behind their target. Their magical gear and decades of training and practice rendering their actions silent even to Elvan ears.
The first sign Nathyrra had that she was not alone was when two hands pulled her legs out from under her. She fell forwards onto the floor, barely managing to get her arms out to brace herself for the impact.
As she tried to free the dagger from her belt, a second pair of hands grabbed both her arms and pulled them tightly behind her, at the same time a boot pressed into her back and pushed her forward into the floor.
Nathyrra tried to push herself back to her feet, but even as she made the effort she knew she’d have no chance overpowering three assailants at once. Her skill was not in strength but rather stealth and slipperiness, though neither would serve her in this situation either considering the fact that there were hands holding down all her limbs.
The assassin in her forced her mind to focus on the situation from an objective viewpoint. The question of what was happening or who these females were was something that could wait until two of them were dead and the rest lying on her back with her neck at the end of a knife.
“That was too easy.” A voice sneered in the Drow tongue from above.
“You followers of Eiliaestraee are a disgrace.” said another, “A pack of blind Svirfneblin could have caught you.”
“Enough!” Snapped the final voice, “We’re wasting time. Bind her, and then let’s get moving.”
Several Years Earlier and many miles away
This was a thing unheard of.
Jaheira had found herself trapped by vines before, often as a result of some hostile druid trying to subdue and/or kill her and her comrades, but those vines were a different thing entirely. They had no will of their own, unlike the beast that had wrapped itself around her left leg.
Never before had she heard of such a creature, or plant. Whatever it was didn’t seem to pose any particular harm, it had simply grabbed onto her boot. It seemed to resist all attempts to shift it however. The machete that Jaheira carried with her did no damage to its suspiciously tough skin, nor could she simply rip the damn thing off of her.
It was a shame that this had happened when she left the rest of the grove to meditate by the nearby stream. There had been little more than a faint rustling to inform her that she was not alone and before she had time to react, there it was, wrapped around her limb. Perhaps it had mistaken her for a tree, but then there were plenty of trees in the area.
Bah, enough speculation. She could still walk, and when she returned to the grove Cernd or one of the others would almost certainly be able to both recognise and deal with this pesky nuisance. At least it didn’t seem to have caused her any particular harm, it was a little embarrassing she supposed, but not especially so.
As she tried to stand up however, the beast stirred once again. A number of fleshy tendrils shot out of the main ‘stalk’ and wrapped themselves around her other leg, quickly pulling them both tightly together and causing her to fall forwards.
“What?!” She half shouted when she realised what had happened, “By Sylvanus’ horns, what are you?”
The plant, as she expected, did not respond. What it did do however to her surprise was expand itself so that it completely enveloped her boots. She could feel… something… happening around her feet, but she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on until the creature retracted itself to its previous binding form. What Jaheira noticed next was that there was nothing left of either her boots or socks. It had, apparently, eaten them.
She struggled once again, trying to prise her legs free while at the same time trying to rip the accursed plant off of her legs with her hands. She parted with a number of less than polite remarks as she pulled futilely at the thing.
Once again the plant struck out, grabbing both of her arms and pulling them over her head. It looked a lot larger now than it had before.
Jaheira, who was becoming all the more confused and desperate to be free, tried to bite the nearest tendril. She could not lift herself high enough to reach it however without the assistance of her now restrained limbs.
“Cursed vine thing.” She muttered finally, dropping herself back onto the grass to rest and catch her breath after several minutes of desperate struggling, “You’ll pay for this, whatever you are.”
The beast slithered yet more protrusions down the length of Jaheira’s arms, tying them tightly together. This soon became the least of her worries however as new, smaller tendrils began to emerge from the main body, the first of which immediately began to slither about her now bare feet.
To be Continued
Chapter 5 – Three considerable misfortunes
“You know, I thought you were starting to enjoy it towards the end. I guess this proves me right.”
Imoen shot a half vengeful, half fearful look at Darras who was himself gazing down at her restrained feet, which he had become very familiar with over the last three hours. (Although to her it felt like he’d been tickling her and Aerie for days.) Her feet still itched from the memory and it took a conscious effort to keep them still.
When finally their torment had come to an end, four thieves had emerged from upstairs to sneak them out of the building. One of them had been carrying a fat coin purse precariously in their trouser pocket and Imoen had been sure she could sneak it into her own pocket with no one seeing.
As it was, she couldn’t. The next thing she knew she was back in the stocks, her arms tied over her head and her clothing, save for her underwear, strewn about the floor.
“What were you thinking?” Aerie asked, her voice less panicked or outraged now that she was standing free beside Darras. Since she had not tried to steal anything the thieves had been willing to let her leave quietly, but once she learned they’d be tickling the fool who landed her in the dungeon in the first place, she had insisted on helping.
“Look I’m sorry okay?” Imoen said to Darras, “I just wasn’t thinking at the time. It’s force of habit you know? There was the purse and I just took it.”
“Yeah I know what it’s like.” Darras said, nodding. “When thievery’s in your blood it just comes naturally. You don’t even realise you’re doing it sometimes”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Imoen said eagerly, “It was just an accident. No harm done, just let me go. Please?”
“Oh no,” Aerie spoke up, taking a step forward “I think you definitely need another lesson about controlling your greed, and I still owe you for getting us into this mess.”
“Oh come on Aerie, I thought we were a team. Help me!”
“I am helping you, in a spiritual sense.” She said with a sarcastic smirk, taking another step forward, placing herself within reach of Imoen’s feet in the process.
“Besides,” Darras added, “you’ll only be here another hour. I’m supposed to be attending a team building seminar or something like that later this evening.”
Another hour might as well be another month as far as Imoen was concerned. She couldn’t take this. The thought of having to endure this torture all over again was enough on its own to make her want to scream.
“Let’s get to it then shall we?” Darras said to Aerie, his new P.A, whom he’d been torturing less than an hour beforehand, “Where would you like to work?”
“Her feet please.” She said, remembering vividly how very sensitive they were as she took one final step forward.
“As you wish,” Darras replied, stepping around Imoen and crouching behind her back. Immediately she began to squirm in anticipation of the fingers she expected to dig into her underarms or waist any minute.
Instead it was Aerie who started first, impatiently raking her long fingernails over Imoen’s already ravished and now especially fragile soles, once more sending shameless howls of laughter resounding throughout the guild building.
“AAAaaaaaahhh! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! No! Aerieeeeeeeee he he he he he he he he he he he he! Staaaahaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Aaaaarrrieeee daahahahahahamit! Pleeeahahahese!”
“Look on the bright side Imoen,” Aerie said as she paused to give her ‘friend’ time to breathe, her ‘moral guide’ veneer steadily giving way to the desire for vengeance, “at least I’m not going to suck your toes.”
“I might.” Darras said lazily.
It hadn’t taken Darras long to move his tongue from Imoen’s feet to Aeries’, and back again, and back again and so on. The effect was utterly maddening, her throat still ached a fair bit from the resultant screams.
Imoen’s self serving actions had once again made a bad situation worse, although he might have done the same thing had she said nothing, he certainly wouldn’t have done it so quickly.
To Darras’ surprise, and not inconsiderable relief, Aerie seemed to blame Imoen entirely, overlooking his role in her torment despite the fact that he had administered it. He decided not to press the issue. By the looks of the gear they’d seized, she was a mage of no small power, probably someone it was best not to get into a fight with.
But if worst came to worst, he could always charge out the back door and lose himself in the alleys. Besides, what with Imoen still bound before him, an upcoming retreat was a prospect that could wait.
Imoen had become so focused on the onslaught Aerie had wreaked upon her feet that she had forgotten that Darras was standing behind her.
With both hands he began to tickle Imoen’s defenceless underarms. She squeaked in surprise before her brain started to register the new tickling sensations. When it did a half second later however, she started to wriggle her entire body as best she could. Her upper body wasn’t as ticklish as her feet, but with both areas being tickled at the same time she could only just bring herself to remember to plead for mercy.
“Gaaaahahahahahahahads! He he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he he Aaaeerieee I’m sorha ha ha ha ha ha ha reeeeehe he he he he he he he he he he he he he he! Pleeasee he he he he he he he he! Leeehe he he heve my feeeeheheheet alone! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Daaaarahahahahahahahahassss Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Staaahap!”
Aerie was having none of it. Now she had moved her spindly fingers upwards, to tickle between each of Imoen’s cute toes. This was perhaps not a deed befitting of a cleric of a good deity, but at the moment she was having too much fun to care.
Darras too had no intention of showing mercy. He was now moving his hands down to her hips and then back up to her underarms at random. The feel of the cute thief’s warm skin was making the prospect of moving his torturous ministrations to her breasts all the more tempting. He doubted her friend was angry enough with her to allow that however. Add to which, he’d probably spend the next fifteen days feeling guilty about it if he did. The hypocrisy of that theory wasn’t lost on him, but in the interrogation business it generally helped to employ a selective sense of morality.
After a few more minutes they stopped once again to rest their hands and give her time to breathe. Imoen found she could do little but hang forward as much as her bonds would allow her to and breathe. She could picture Aerie’s smug face at her ‘just punishment’ or whatever she would call it. She knew that Aerie was a stuck up, do-no-wrong type and felt a need to cast her opinions of how things should be on anyone and everyone, but this was going too far. As soon as she was free she was going to make sure Aerie paid for this.
It was that prospect that gave her the strength not to scream with terror when Aerie asked in an innocent tone of voice whether he’d like to swap sides.
Meanwhile (and some years later, if you’ll forgive my disregard of chronology)
In the Underdark, the prospect of casually wandering around in the darkness for no purpose other than to appreciate the scenery would be unthinkable. To do the same on the surface therefore felt more than a little peculiar, which only added to the fun of it. That wasn’t to say that perils and beasts didn’t lurk in the dark places on the surface, but in contrast to the Underdark, the moonlit forest that Nathyrra was strolling through might as well have been Helm’s Hold, (Helm’s Hold three years ago at least).
It had been three and a half months since the Hero of Waterdeep, the Kobold bard and herself had bested the Arch-Devil Mephistopheles. With the Valsharess also dead, Llolth still nowhere to be seen and Drow society engulfed in a storm of chaos, infighting and confusion not known since the scattering, the followers of Eiliestraee were finding life that much easier. The small surface settlement of Nai Hallvai was virtually overflowing with new converts and recent escapees brought to the surface.
Though she was pleased to see her people and her faith growing in number, Nathyrra still found herself enjoying such moments of solitude as this more than she did the larger events such as the endless ritual dances. Assassins, or even former assassins, weren’t great ones for large groups.
It was a beautiful night, stars blanketed the night sky and there was not a cloud nor the slightest chill in the air. Nathyrra found that she preferred the relatively comfortable darkness to the blinding force of daylight, which her eyes were still having a hard time getting accustomed to. The Seer told her that she would adapt eventually, nevertheless there was something about this mesh of light and darkness in the surface’s night hours that stirred her soul far more than the oft-mythical sunlight.
Though she was indulging in the newness of her surroundings, Nathyrra made it a point not to lose sight of the torch fires of her new home on the horizon, her right hand also stayed firmly placed on the hilt of the dagger attached to her belt.
It is, alas, a sad fact of existence that one quasi-alert Drow enthralled by the night sky is no match from three fully alert female Drow focused on her.
With almost unnatural stealth, the three obsidian figures descended silently from the trees, landing behind their target. Their magical gear and decades of training and practice rendering their actions silent even to Elvan ears.
The first sign Nathyrra had that she was not alone was when two hands pulled her legs out from under her. She fell forwards onto the floor, barely managing to get her arms out to brace herself for the impact.
As she tried to free the dagger from her belt, a second pair of hands grabbed both her arms and pulled them tightly behind her, at the same time a boot pressed into her back and pushed her forward into the floor.
Nathyrra tried to push herself back to her feet, but even as she made the effort she knew she’d have no chance overpowering three assailants at once. Her skill was not in strength but rather stealth and slipperiness, though neither would serve her in this situation either considering the fact that there were hands holding down all her limbs.
The assassin in her forced her mind to focus on the situation from an objective viewpoint. The question of what was happening or who these females were was something that could wait until two of them were dead and the rest lying on her back with her neck at the end of a knife.
“That was too easy.” A voice sneered in the Drow tongue from above.
“You followers of Eiliaestraee are a disgrace.” said another, “A pack of blind Svirfneblin could have caught you.”
“Enough!” Snapped the final voice, “We’re wasting time. Bind her, and then let’s get moving.”
Several Years Earlier and many miles away
This was a thing unheard of.
Jaheira had found herself trapped by vines before, often as a result of some hostile druid trying to subdue and/or kill her and her comrades, but those vines were a different thing entirely. They had no will of their own, unlike the beast that had wrapped itself around her left leg.
Never before had she heard of such a creature, or plant. Whatever it was didn’t seem to pose any particular harm, it had simply grabbed onto her boot. It seemed to resist all attempts to shift it however. The machete that Jaheira carried with her did no damage to its suspiciously tough skin, nor could she simply rip the damn thing off of her.
It was a shame that this had happened when she left the rest of the grove to meditate by the nearby stream. There had been little more than a faint rustling to inform her that she was not alone and before she had time to react, there it was, wrapped around her limb. Perhaps it had mistaken her for a tree, but then there were plenty of trees in the area.
Bah, enough speculation. She could still walk, and when she returned to the grove Cernd or one of the others would almost certainly be able to both recognise and deal with this pesky nuisance. At least it didn’t seem to have caused her any particular harm, it was a little embarrassing she supposed, but not especially so.
As she tried to stand up however, the beast stirred once again. A number of fleshy tendrils shot out of the main ‘stalk’ and wrapped themselves around her other leg, quickly pulling them both tightly together and causing her to fall forwards.
“What?!” She half shouted when she realised what had happened, “By Sylvanus’ horns, what are you?”
The plant, as she expected, did not respond. What it did do however to her surprise was expand itself so that it completely enveloped her boots. She could feel… something… happening around her feet, but she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on until the creature retracted itself to its previous binding form. What Jaheira noticed next was that there was nothing left of either her boots or socks. It had, apparently, eaten them.
She struggled once again, trying to prise her legs free while at the same time trying to rip the accursed plant off of her legs with her hands. She parted with a number of less than polite remarks as she pulled futilely at the thing.
Once again the plant struck out, grabbing both of her arms and pulling them over her head. It looked a lot larger now than it had before.
Jaheira, who was becoming all the more confused and desperate to be free, tried to bite the nearest tendril. She could not lift herself high enough to reach it however without the assistance of her now restrained limbs.
“Cursed vine thing.” She muttered finally, dropping herself back onto the grass to rest and catch her breath after several minutes of desperate struggling, “You’ll pay for this, whatever you are.”
The beast slithered yet more protrusions down the length of Jaheira’s arms, tying them tightly together. This soon became the least of her worries however as new, smaller tendrils began to emerge from the main body, the first of which immediately began to slither about her now bare feet.
To be Continued
