Naked Feet and the Lake of Fire [Dreath'myrr]
Ruchi Vael'kyn, Yathrin d'lil Qu'ellar
Ruchi, the barefoot drow, pressed deeper into the Underdark, with Zynrae following close in her shadow. Even here, in the darkness of never-ending tunnels, the slender cleric's feet were naked, much like those of their four-legged companion, shimmering behind. Your feet are filthy. Aren't you an esteemed and noble Yahtrin? A frequent observation, and one Ruchi had heard many times over. Not from Zynrae, but from her many rivals. Ruchi's secret was that her naked feet kept her alert and present. Her own ego had gotten her almost killed more times than she could count, and among the drow, a single mistake was usually the last. To avoid the webs and schemes spun by her rivals, Ruchi had chosen never to clothe her feet. Every inch closer to the stone kept her, well, more closely grounded to the invisible. To herself. To her. So she accepted the mockery, even when it stung as badly as the physical pain of stepping on sharp rocks or stray nails. Find Dreath'myrr. The command of the Valsharess had been clear, and absolute. While the two darkelves competed with each others physical prowress, they were bound by a critical mission. Failure meant death. Fucking hell! Right now, however, Ruchi's calloused and hardened, skinny feet were becoming increasingly hot. As they moved, it became apparent to Ruchi that depending on the direction the two drow took, there was an immense source of heat. Sensing this was the key to unlocking one of the many secrets to reach Dreath'myrr, Ruchi followed the trail of heat. "I think we might be getting closer, Zynrae. My feet are fucking embers." As soon as Ruchi had finished, she noticed smoke rising, and heated updrafts, and at what looked like a giant lake of magma and fire. The only path across was a stonern bridge, steaming with heat, and at times as thin as a hair on her scalp. "Are you sure you want to do this, Zynrae?" "I'm sure, Ruchi." "Zynrae, the Underdark was made to fucking kill us. This entire descent is to make a mockery of us." The smell of sulfur stung, so Ruchi had to tie a garment over her nose so as not to faint and fall into the leaping flames. Down on all fours, she started inching forward on the tiny bridge. But as soon as the two Drow climbed over the narrowest part, Ruchi couldn't help but notice an alien, rhythmic whisper. And suddenly, the palms of her hands and feet weren't just becoming hot; they literally started smoking and burning. Quickly, Ruchi prayed and released her clerical energy in a frantic chant. She focused all of her energy on keeping the voice out of her head, but it wasn't enough. "Zynrae, you must get us across the lake of fire. I will shield us from this.. this.. abbomination." Then it happened, Ruchi began to faint, and felt something latch onto her, locked to her mind. Ruchi's thoughts quickly flooded with the perishing screams of a thousand dying drow: "While the Spider is not welcome here, the Dark Maiden is hunted!"
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