To Hell and Back, and No Romance: Dethos Visits Dis

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UilliamNebel
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To Hell and Back, and No Romance: Dethos Visits Dis

Post by UilliamNebel » Mon Jul 19, 2021 6:08 pm

The Ranger of Spiders had been to the lows of the Deep Dark, the savagery of the Forest of Despair, the undead blights in Minmir, the cold light of the Shadow Plane, and the extremes of the elemental planes. And always in his searching had been the hope of finding one similar to himself in preference for the wild against the civil, for love of the feral versus the security of the tamed. To the Abyss and Baator, the lower and evil places had gone as well, in hopes that the greater darkness was also as much a forge of spirits as it was a destroyer of them. And now, on the famed concourse of Dis did he find himself.

‘Wow…’

The usual woodsman of Faerun’s Eastern drawl to his voice, said so dead pan it made many think there was sarcasm despite having none.

His bare feet walked over the stones of the raised walkway. Everything of the place spoke to it wanting to lure in mortals, with promises and dreams. And everything equally felt like a careful façade to not let one know when they'd gone too far, and lost their soul with its seduction. Every foot fell to him, and the touch of the stones rang with the feeling of knowing he was prey, and the environment would be no ally against the predators.

All about, ways to stupidly, or naively sell off one’s soul. And not all of them through exchange of goods or power. Several times now he had passed some tiefling, Drow priestess, or succubus going through the concourse. And with a knowing smirk, going to a seductive small smile, and lingering in their eye to his with sometimes a wink did he feel how much peril he himself was in here. Of power, wealth, station, he had no use. But an end to loneliness? What greater breach was there ever to the defenses of a mortal soul as the false hope, and desire to lose oneself completely, identity and all, in that of another who seemed so much grander, and by extension capable of making another grander, in all things? Love, joy, fulfillment, being of consequence for another having a place in their heart for you? And as before in the Underdark, or among the cults of Arelith’s surface, did he feel that most dangerous game of potential seduction here among master’s of its art. Dis did not just conquer the greedy, the vain, and the stupid, it also excelled in damning those hopelessly alone.

As he walked, exploring the city. He now realized that he was constantly lifting the small leather pouch of essence to his nose to breathe in. Bits of certain flowers that had been used to make perfume, a lock of hair, some herbs and stones of mineral often worked in Druidic medicines. All things of his long departed wife. Nothing magical to it, no alchemical protection, what good would such things do against devils that were masters of their craft here on their own ground. Just memories of true love, and what actual end to loneliness felt like when sincere. Despite the pain of knowing their loss with every breath, it also managed to shield him as well in a way against the overwhelming relentless barrage of hunger for his soul he felt was stalking him about Dis. This city was a spider’s web not even Lolth would dare to imagine making for the trapping of souls.
“..Time to go..”

The words whispered to himself, as he realized he had left his eyes lingering in contact with some Outsider seductress who stood in sorceress robes. Small horns, raven black hair, tanned skin, and deep cinnamon candy red eyes. The force of charisma she commanded seemed to come off her as if she were a wind off the sea. Even on the concourse, filled with hundreds of planes walkers, devils, and what have you, she managed to stick out as a dark snaring light among lights. As she went to walk toward Dethos, a slight cruel smile starting to form on her purple painted lips, he pulled his eyes away with much effort and began walking away with prayers to Silvanus and Chauntea to shore his soul long enough to just make it off the plane.

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