[Djizaz]

Prelude

Drained
Swallowing against the dry throat he remembers for the last time the face of his captor as his bloodthirsty hands carve its long and razor sharp fingernail in his palms as they clench tightly.
Illusions and delusions fed his eager mind, revenge fed his soul as his body was almost falling apart, only holding to a thought, kept secluded and unknown to all..

..yet not forgotten..

He babbled before his nails dug deeper in its frail flesh.
Dripping lazily and languidly the crimson essence took his life slowly as it flooded the cold and crude pavement, the once bright white hair stained and tainted by the unholy fluid, curled in fetal position twitching his legs and shaking his head his chest filled with the nauseous air and a dry cough lashed his lungs painfully and the pool grown in side.

From the ceiling a strange looking ooze dripped almost endlessly burning with every of its acidic dripping blobs. Scattered around, chewed humanoid bones give a hint that the former captives met a painful and not so fortunate demise.
His long bifid tongue licks his livid lips eagerly as a vile grin widens across his dry blood tattooed face, like two opaque white marbles her eyes scan the room incessantly and nervously, his lids twitch at every movement and he hissed threateningly.
A vacant and seemingly lifeless gaze hides its sharpness and cunning as his waving motions deceive completely his current state of awareness.

Turmoil, chaos, anarchic thoughts swarmed his tormented mind, focusing blindly in his purpose. His thin lips twitched as his tongue licked them nervously again, unavoidably his sharp teeth sunk in the lifeless lips letting a few drops of blood run down his chin shyly, unaware of the wound almost senseless due to her state, gritted her teeth, hissing behind them spraying a small portion of blood that dared to enter ironically the bloodthirsty mouth, again the lips twitched before he managed to pull the words from deep inside, painfully he whispered.

Forgetting yet not forgotten,
Avenging yet not avenged,
Rotting yet not rotten,
Dying yet not dead,

Mistress, once again I bow,
Mother, once again I breathe,
Dread Lady, once again I vow,
While I live my blade won’t sheathe,

What darkness create,
Light desecrate,
Defiling the sacred,
I will feed your Hatred.
Lloth, Mother of us all,
Spinning in a red web of vein,
Don’t let me fall,
Today, as eternal is your reign.

The words echoed, inside the troubled mind, and for moments he pictured the majestic pillars and walls, the beautiful carvings and the reflecting pavement, glanced around in awe and there it was, he crawled slowly keeping his gaze down, as the hiss got louder, a painful sting made him shiver as the vicious and barbed fang sank in his back making his curl wincing in excruciating pain and spasm. A bitter flavor invaded his mouth filling it with a disgustful and bile drool that he lazily oozed out. The vacant white marbles rolled up slowly fearing their target, narrowed and nervous they met nothing but the mold covered stone wall.

A tiny black spider scuttled behind his ear and hissed tauntingly.

Devious and tedious are you,
Lifeless and brainless are you,
Faithful and dreadful were you,
Fulfilling and unyielding were you,
My puppet, mine you are.

The tiny spider swiftly scuttles climbing the long and thin silken string.
In the wall, lit by a dim and fuzzy greenish light the mold emanates, the strings stretch and again the puppet comes to life. Lifted almost lifeless, the two marbles roll lazily glancing about, as the white strings become crimson, thicker and pulsing slowly make her body twitch with each pulse, his head is pulled back and the spider slowly descends landing in his forehead carving his way in, a howl of agonizing pain echoes is muffled inside the small room as the spider finally settles leaving only his mark, the nervous and twitching orbs look down as his nails grow thicker, darker and sharper. Opening his arms wide, an eviscerating pain pierces his still frail body making him spasm in pain as a warm shiver ran down his spine, and his feet felt the ground once again. Hundreds of tiny black spiders peered and scuttled down and wove a thin web embroidering his long hair entwined with the strong and thin web.
Scuttling down his neck they started weaving encasing his chest in a complex broidery and intricate pattern webbing. As fast as they came down, they scuttled up hissing loudly.

Beady and aware the two orbs widened with life, the crimson strings unplugged from his body hanging dripping blood as she watched in awe.

Immediately felt a wracking pain that made him curve his back into a deep bow, his braids touched the bloodied ground waving freely, he closed his eyes and widened a grim and malicious smile, saying as the darkness engulfed him.

Usstan uil dosstan Quar’valsharess!

[Djizaz]

The Arrival


The city gates were at sight, his pace slowed down as he took a deep breath, taking the next step after a long drought sigh. His beady eyes peered around as he strode around, everything seemed somehow changed yet the same.
His confident stride brought him to the entrance of the great temple of the Goddess, his gaze slowly rolled downwards facing the pavers, and with him both hands he pushed the massive doors, with a loud crack they opened wide and his face was bathed with the temple scent of burning incense among other known scents making her lips twist into a crooked grin as he set his feet inside.

His marble gaze followed the pattern in the pavement until sensibly middle of the temple hall and she stopped his slow stride inhaling the inebriating air as his grin widened.

Suddenly the doors shut with a mute thunderclap and he felt impelled forwards by the dislocation of air, falling to his knees as his braids slowly met the marble reflecting pavers, he could for the first time see his own reflection, the grin quickly vanished and his expression closed into a malicious and wicked stare, penetrating his own reflected gaze. Tilting his head as his pupils dilated further and further absorbing what was left of him, and what was of the puppet now. Quite amazed her eyes widened briefly and he nodded once silently, acknowledging the differences, the beads closed as his palms met the cold surface, head bowed deeply and finally his forehead touched the sacred ground and there it remained.

Hissing in front of his, a unique and magnificent spider, not like the others he had brought, no, this one was bigger than the two together and alone scarier and its own presence was frightening instilling terror at the eyes of the infidels irradiating a beauty that only the loyal servants of the Spider Queen could behold. The guardian didn’t move, but its vicious and barbed fangs waving slowly cutting the air like thin and sharp razorblades slicing every thought of moving further into pieces. Patient but relentless, the spider stood between Djizaz and the altar, only the worthy could reach it, and only those would dare to.

The hissing stopped, and silence became heavy and threatening, stillness was aerie, but he knew the place very well and his senses wouldn’t deceive his, not even after all that time. Despite all the time past its interior remained untouched, striking her with a nostalgic feeling that was promptly wiped away by far more important issues, his presence inside, finally, he knew consciously that all he held in hand had been blown away with a blink of an eye and something had to be done, a malicious smile ran across the ebony face and slowly his head rose.

[Djizaz]

The Ethics of Drow killing

Ruthless and cold hearted, mischievous and cruel, the Drow are the perfect assassins. There are no bonds or boundaries that can keep them from fulfilling an order, a desire or a whim. They share no family ties, do not attach emotionally to anyone or anything and are only driven by one thought; accomplish the Spider Queen commands.
However, death peers from every dark alley, every corner, thus why they live short long lives. A Drow lifespan may peak at legendary millenia, and only few can gloat for being able to survive so long, and fewer are those who die of natural cause, who die unworthy, weak, disgraced and abandoned. Old Matrons and Queens enhance and imbue themselves with their lost youth through magical means, leading strong Houses while protected by powerful armies, however the average Drow can't afford such privilege, and there is only honor when dying in the battlefield.
Despite being an educated, noble, advanced and ancient race, the Drow are proud killers, but they are also silent killers. They have moral and ethic standards, rules to abide and divine laws to obey under the penalty of dishonored death and sacrifice. There is no innocent bloodshed in Drow City streets, since the Drow are born guilty and sentenced to death since their first breath.
Being able to kill and having the freedom to do so never blind the Drow, they follow their harsh and strict society rules and ethics, the ladder, as weird as it may sound there are Ethics in Drow assassination procedures.
Deprived from weak feelings such as sorrow and pity, the Drow never act in mercy, they always kill keeping perfection in mind, killing the weak so the strong can prevail, however the ladder of the Drow society dictates that it must be the strong to fall in order to please the Goddess and be worthy of Her blessing, as well as being able to climb and attain higher status among the matriarchal hierarchy.
Never a Drow has been killed in the open whose killer wasn't immediately sacrificed, for breaking the law. Never a street was stained with blood whose blade wouldn't be found and its wielder sacrificed for daring breaking the laws the Spider Queen dictated. Truth is, the Drow are cold blooded murderers, but they do not let it reflect in their day to day society. If a Drow dies, everyone will know who the killer was, but the dead will be forgotten in a blink, however if someone witness he will go from worthy and glorious to expandable and unworthy heretic.
Drow gamble their life, mere peons in Lloth's Chess, with strict rules to follow, and only one goal, domination. She enjoys playing Her peons, feeding them more to eat, until they cannot get a hold of themselves and break the laws She set, and be punished. Her mind games are terribly wicked and maddening, to which only the strong survive.
Lloth sees all, and through the eyes of the killer She experiences every moment in pure ecstasy, through their minds She incites and taunts them to do so, in Her name, through their hands She strangles and snaps necks, plucks eyes and wields vicious bloodthirsty blades that sooner or later will slit the unaware throat, She plants the seed of discord and turmoil, Chaos. And the dark kin complies obediently. However, Lloth never interferes in Drow killing, She watches, guides their eyes and hands, but never interfering. Lloth enjoys massacre, mass murder, annihilation, but never extinction. She needs puppets for Her play in the Theatre of Atrocity.
In rare occasions the Drow use outsider forces to slay and eliminate a rival, and even when doing so, nothing must be known or noticed among the cautious and vigilant society, a Priestess may employ a group of mercenary to get rid of the rival High Priestess in order to climb the ladder of power, however, if the High Priestess dies by anyone' hand than hers, such death shall not be honored and the Priestess will live forever drown in her shame, eventually succumbing to Lloth' belittling and berating, ending sacrificed in the Altar.
Killing is a sport among the Drow, they are born killers, with the natural aptitude to do so under any circumstance, however they are the masters of subtlety and perfection. They contemplate the beauty that is decapitation, mutilation and even skinning, but it is something they never gloat about, ever. A student may kill his teacher to get his position, everyone will know he did it, everyone will give him credit for such action and fear his new gained power, deeming him worthy of wielding it, however if he is denounced he will go from glory to doom in less than nothing, such is the life of the Drow.
Cruel and ruthless, yet subtle and ethic murderers are the noble Drow.