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Lysan Lurraxol

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In an attempt to beat my writer's block, I've started writing a Classic Adventures fanfic, based on three of my characters, siblings Narcissa, Ophelia and Lysander.


I've adopted a sort of Martinesque viewpoint style, I hope it works :D


Here's the first two chapters, also posted at Spellhold Studios


Hope you enjoy it :)




This...is...stupid! Narcissa thought, not for the first time, as she clung desperately to the rope, terrified of letting go, even for a moment, even to move herself further down.

Trembling, she slid her left hand, then her right, along, down the rope.

That's it, easy, calm.

Slowly, she moved down, further into the darkness, clinging to the swaying rope.

She could hear the sounds of her companions' struggles above her.

If someone falls, they'll take me with them,

Sweet Selune, that's morbid.


The descent was agony, every moment almost her last, one slip from death.

The rope was old and frayed, and at one point, she lost her grip, and fell near half a hundred feet, before ,entirely by chance, she managed to grab hold of the violently swinging rope.

Still, at least it's over now she thought, until she realised

Somehow, we have to get back up there


The...pit was the only word that could be used, pit was huge, stretching into the gloom, far beyond Narcissa's view.

A smell of decay festered, assailing her nose, and the silence, pervading, suffocating.


Shadow's voice, harsh and unnatural in the stillness, broke the silence.

"Remind me again why I agreed to follow you"

It was hardly as if she had had a choice, Narcissa reflected, certain death by the sowrd, or an uncertain death in a sunken, sunless citadel, miles beneath the ground.

Footsteps behind her, a light touch on her shoulder, Narcissa nearly shrieked aloud, but instead whirled, to face her brother, Lysander.

He smiled at the fear in her face.

"Are you alright sister? I saw you...fall before"

Narcissa nodded, heart pounding, "I'm still breathing, which I suppose I should be grateful for"

Her brother smiled.

"How did Ophelia fare?" she asked, she'd almost forgotten her.

"Well enough. Truth, she took to the rope like she was born to it"

Narcissa glanced over at her sister, and found her cradling a spider in her palm, stroking it's bulbous body and humming softly to it.

"I'm beginning to have my doubts about bring her with us" she said quietly.

"Too late now" Lysander shrugged "But, I understand. I'll watch her, if you want"

"If you would. But, I fear Ophelia may be the least of our concerns", she inclined her head towards the rest of the group, "At least her I know".


The others...Dirbert, friend, companion, and Lysans's..., Rurik, I suppose he sees himself as our mentor, but the other two, Shadow, true she has a wit, but still a criminal, a thief, and Paraway, so eager to accompany us.

She did not know them at all.

Still, nothing can be done about that


She turned back to her brother and grinned "I suppose we'll have to make do with them, needs must and all that"

Lysan returned her grin "You're actually enjoying this?"

"But of course, sweet brother" She raised her voice, calling for the others to follow her.

Her voice echoed and echoed through the vast cavern.

It was more than unsettling




Dark...so beautiful.


The spiderwebs shimmered in the underground gloom.

Ophelia was fascinated, enchanted,


Such a pity we cannot stay.


Narcissa was leading them onward, and downward, along spiralling staircase, carved in stone, winding down into the depths.

Her legs were starting to ache, and the air was bloody freezing.

And, there was that strange...whispering?..., chattering?..., a sort of almost animal, inhuman, guttural hiss, just on the edge of hearing. It chilled her, her of all people. It was almost funny, or would have been if it hadn't been growing ever louder, the further they descended.

In the flickering torchlight, Ophelia could see concern painted on her sister's face.

The elf, the aloof one, leaned over and whispered into Narcissa's ear. Ophelia liked that not at all.

She could just make out Lysander, coughing into his hand.


Poor, sweet brother, never in the best of health, and here in the cold....


Dirbert touched her brother's arm, and said something she couldn't quite hear. Lysan smiled.


Oh, how...touching.


The noise, the unbearable, incessant, hissing, whispering, almost silent cacophony, was getting louder, clearer, all the time.


"Down!", Narcissa cried, flinging herself onto the ground, as a volley of arrows rained down upon them.

Ophelia ducked down behind a conveniently large rock, and watched her dear, brave companions scramble for cover.

"What in the hells is it?" Shadow said, close by her, even in the poor light, she could see Shadow's face had gone white.

"Paraway", an arrow flew past ,"Thinks kobolds" Narcissa said, peering out from behind the rock.

"We can't stay here forever" ,Rurik's voice came from the darkness, and another arrow clattered to the ground.

"We need more cover", Narcissa said.

"Or a distraction", Ophelia said, smiling.


"Are you sure that you can do this?" Narcissa asked again.

"Of course, sweet sister. I have had practice after all."

Narcissa looked much less than happy, but nodded.

"I think they're almost out of arrows", she heard Dirbert say.

"Shadow and hell, we haven't much time", Narcissa cursed.

"Be nice if we could bloody well see the bastard things", Shadow muttered, loud enough for Ophelia's hearing, and not quite hiding the hysteria in her tone.


Ophelia closed her eyes. She found it helped her concentration. Fumbling, groping, she reached into the pouches on her belt, sprinkilng fine powder from her fingers, and a mass of spider legs, bristling in her hands. Dropping them onto the dusty ground, she bagan to chant. She waved her left hand over, across, around the mess of reagents, and her right, she clenched and unclenched in a quick, arachind pattern.

She could, on the edges of her mind, hear the call, a whispering, hungry, chattering, getting closer.

She gasped as the spell reached its climax.


Oh goddess, yes!


The power. the art, flowed through her, out of her, the air pricklied, a heady, intoxicating whirl of arcane, sweet weave, briefly she felt darkness, rich, the warmth of large, hairy bodies, packed together, webs, tickling her, and the chittering, mad crawling of spiders.

She opened her eyes, and laughed.

Spiders. Scores of spiders, the size of her palm, watching her ,eagerly.


Narcissa looked, almost fearfully at her, "Go, send them, now", she whispered.

Ophelia smiled,"Patience". She clicked her tounge, and her teeth chattered, her nose, eyes twitched. She knew they understood.


Twitching, writhing, one creature with many legs, her little army ran, crawled more like, from behind the rock, running forward into the gloom.

Ophelia saw her sister stand, sword in hand "Now!" she screamed.

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