William was unconscious, his mind drifting between reality and some unknown realm, a place where his thoughts seemed to flow like endless, unseen currents.
His eyes opened, and his usual silvery grey half-Drow body was replaced by a piercing green hue. This green color scanned his surroundings with curiosity as well as a healthy dose of caution.
He had absolutely no clue as to where he was currently located, and the last thing he could recall was being on the verge of being torn apart by a Shadow Druid, who had recently transformed into his wolf form.
He instinctively reached for his back, only to discover that his skin, once again, was that same soft tan he remembered from back on Earth, the one he'd been enjoying before being so abruptly brought to this strange new world.
"What is going on?" He looked around, the cast multicolored expanse around him seeming to go on forever, "Where the hell am I?"
FWOOOOSH!
A faint light flickered into existence, coming from what appeared to be his left side. As it materialized, it seemed to push aside and scatter the multi-hued cloud that had been situated within that very spot moments earlier.
Williams noticed the light suddenly begin to flicker and fade away, a change visible right in his naked eyes. As it disappeared, something else took its place, causing him to pause, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend the implications of this unexpected sight.
The thing that materialized was Williams' half-Drow body, or at the very least, a construct that had been fashioned from his half-Drow form by this very place, this very environment.
Suddenly, the Half-Drow's body began to open its eyes, and the gazes of both parties met directly.
A palpable tension crackled between them, as if neither of them had fully accepted the other's presence yet. However, after what felt like a considerable amount of time, perhaps an hour or more, finally, the Half-Drow spoke.
"I was a noble once... Powerful even... Despite all I had, it was a slow-acting poison delivered by my own sister that ate away at my mind and allowed my downfall!"
"I was once Vrinn Oblodra of House Oblodra, and you will achieve my revenge!" As the Half-Drow finished the sentence, he suddenly appeared before William as if he folded space to do so and put both hands on either side of his head.
The space around him seemed to shift and transform, its very structure altering until it revealed a dark, ominous cavern that stretched out into the distance as far as his eyes could see.
Inside, strange growths and bioluminescent plants illuminated the space, creating an atmosphere of mystery and foreboding.
However, it was the city that truly captured his attention.
Menzoberranzan, in its full glory, unfolded in all directions, its magnificent architecture reaching up towards the very walls that defined the cavernous underdark.
The sheer scale of it all, coupled with the brilliance of the spider-themed architecture, created a truly awe-inspiring sight, making the underdark appear as if it were a vast and star-studded night sky when viewed from a distance.
William's eyes widened with sheer amazement, the sheer scope and beauty of an underground civilization causing his breath to become heavy in his chest.
Before his mind could fully process this sight, his body, as if pulled by some invisible force, was brought into the center of a massive pit.
The echo that emanated from the depths of this pit sounded like thousands of desperate cries for mercy, a truly heart-wrenching sound for someone like William who was not used to such things.
The sheer cacophony of terror and pain that assaulted him was nearly enough to cause William to vomit, but given the fact that he was trapped within the confines of a dream, his body simply couldn't react in that way.
Instead, he found himself able to only dry heave in place, his throat constricted by the sheer intensity of the experience.
"Wh... What the hell is this place?" He muttered, his voice muffled by his hand, as he fought back the rising wave of nausea in his stomach.
Yet, the moment his gaze landed on the imposing structure before him, it became clear that this wasn't a typical castle.
Instead, it resembled a heavily fortified compound, perched precariously on a sheer cliff face, nestled between two colossal, finger-like pillars that jutted out from the rock.
William stood frozen, his eyes wide in absolute awe. Suddenly, a flash of purple mist erupted to the left of him, and Vrinn emerged, his silver-grey eyes boring down into the seemingly endless pit that his former home had been infamous for.
A glint of barely suppressed animosity flickered in his gaze, and that feeling only grew stronger when his eyes finally settled on the courtyard.
There, he found a young Drow engaging in a sparring match with a female who was remarkably similar, except for the icy sneer that seemed to be permanently plastered across her face.
The female Drow, her long, curved sword gleaming in the dim light, swung it towards the younger Vrinn.
At first, the attack seemed to be a horizontal sweep, but she quickly shifted it into a diagonal slash, intending to sever him almost in two.
However, Vrinn, quick and agile, managed to deflect the incoming blade with the flat side of his own weapon.
A shower of sparks erupted as the sword shot upwards, catching the light on its mirror-like surface.
Vrinn responded with a swift, powerful thrust that directly pierced through the female's abdomen.
As William watched from his vantage point above, he initially assumed the fight was finally over.
However, his surprise turned into disbelief when the female Drows form began to waver and weaken right where she stood.
A chilling evil smirk spread across her face, and then, with a blinding flash, she seemed to simply vanish, dissolving into a swirling mass of motes of light.
Vrinn's eyes flashed with a cold purple light and he spun in place with inhuman speed just in time to block an incoming slash from the female Drow.
"Hahahaha, you're so weak, it's unbelievable! You should just give up and let me finish you off!" The female drow's evil grin stretched into an unnatural, wide expression as she continued to slash relentlessly. Each blow sent Vrinn sprawling backwards due to the sheer force behind her attacks.
Eventually she managed get through Vrinn's guard, using her own blade to press his into the ground and reach up and grasp him by his neck.
A dark, swirling green magic erupted from her hand and seeped onto Vrinn, causing the young Half-Drow to groan in agony even as his neck was being strangled.
Despite his desperate attempts to free himself he was unable to budge her, his efforts became increasingly sluggish and weak, culminating in his eyes rolling back into his head and his body going limp.
"ENOUGH!!!"
An authoritative voice echoed through the castle, sounding almost as if its sound had been enhanced by some kind of magical force.
An exotic matronly beauty of nigh-godly proportions stared down from her seat in a raised deck that overlooked the courtyard as well as the natural beauty of the underdark.
Her expression was cold and calculated, but deep in her bright red eyes, one could see faint traces of disappointment and a reluctant acceptance for the task that must be undertaken.
Her figure swelled with a purple and pink energy that caused the tea on her table as well as the various snacks to float in the air as if gravity had decided to take a nap.
The female drow, her face grim, launched Vrinn directly onto the ground before she herself knelt down, facing the matronly drow figure as the latter walked gracefully down from several levels above.
Not flying.
Not leaping.
Walking.
It felt like the very space around her was folding in on itself, creating a series of steps for her descent.
Her stiletto heel boots landed in front of Vrinn as the young Half-Drow was beginning to rise, the blade like sound of her footfall causing him to flinch, clearly the result of much abuse both physical and psychological.
His eyes slowly rose to meet hers, and the sheer psychic pressure erupting from her deep red eyes seemed to casually but forcefully avert his gaze any time he lingered too long in any place it shouldn't.
With a swift, almost imperceptible gesture of her slender, purple-grey hand, Vrinn felt himself being forcefully hoisted into the air. His arms and legs, previously positioned at his sides, were now held outstretched, his body held rigid by the unseen force.
Clack.
Clack.
She stepped closer to Vrinn with movements almost tailor made to incite seduction in those lucky enough or unlucky enough to witness her presence in all its majesty
"You disappointed me again little Vrinn, not only are your sword skills subpar but you have shown absolutely no ability to maneuver your inmate psychic energy outside of your own body... ABSOLUTELY DISGRACEFUL!!"
SLAP!
She delivered an unnecessarily viscous backhand that split Vrinn's lip and caused blood to begin dropping to the ground before the ruby beads began floating around the matronly woman who as the memories were fed to William he discovered was named K'yorl Odran the Matriarch of House Oblodra.
K'yorl Odran reached out with her other hand gripping Vrinn by his throat and produces a vial of strange purple fluid that she immediately and forcefully made Vrinn drink.
Verin felt his bloodline shrink down to a point where it was practically reduced to a singularity. The potential he once had for psionic abilities through said bloodline was completely destroyed as a result of whatever toxin was contained within that vial.
Matriarch Odran gripped Vrinn on both sides of his head and he let out a deep, painful scream as what appeared to be purple tendrils of psionic lightning erupted from her fingers and pressed into the young Half-Drow's skull, bypassing his skin and bone to reach the grey matter beneath.
The screams of the young Half-Drow, Vrinn, reached a fever pitch as the purple lightning scorched its way through his brain, leaving more than just his memories charred. His face began to slacken as his screams transitioned from normal, human-like cries to a guttural, blood-curdling sound that echoed through the room.
However, that change only lasted for moments, after which his entire body suddenly seemed to go slack. His eyes, previously wide, now stared blankly downwards, fixated on the ground as if looking into nothing.
Matriarch Odran, with her slender hand, propelled Vrinn into the air, his body subsequently hurtling downwards into the deep pit that lay directly beneath their fortress, as if she were simply discarding something worthless.
She turns her back and mutters.
"At the very least you can be useful as fees for the slaves!"
The Matriarch did not watch him fall.
K'yorl Odran found herself floating back to her seat, as though the very force of gravity itself felt a sense of embarrassment for ever having had the opportunity to touch her.
The very fabric of space seemed to fold beneath her feet, revealing invisible steps that led her upwards with an air of regal certainty.
The teacup and the assortment of floating confections resumed their leisurely, idle orbit, as if absolutely no significant event had just transpired.
With a bored flick of her fingers, she leaned back, crossed one long leg over the other, and instantly dismissed Vrinn Oblodra from her existence.
"Send in the next weakling!"
The words that were spoken echoed in the silence, their tone sharp and dismissive, already searching for a new victim to fill the void left by Vrinn's absence.
Below her, far, far down, the imposing fortress, carved into the very stone itself, stood as a symbol of cruelty and tyranny, and it was there that Vrinn found herself falling.
There was no scream at first.
The air swirled around him in an absolute silence, so profound and so vast that it seemed to swallow the sound of his own breath.
The Clawrift stretched out below the fortress, its jagged teeth forming an open maw that looked exactly like the mouth of some forgotten, merciless god.
Jagged spires of obsidian and chitinous rock pierced the sky, their sharp edges gleaming with an eerie luminescence, as if they were eager to tear the unfortunate individual apart.
He tumbled end over end, his body broken and his mind shattered.
His bloodline, once vibrant and strong, was now hollowed out, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.
Time stretched.
Seconds became minutes.
Minutes unraveled into something shapeless and cruel.
The darkness pressed in, not empty but watching.
Shadows moved where no light existed.
The distant screams William had heard earlier now made sense.
They were echoes of those who suffer endlessly.
Remnants of those who devolved into enslaved beasts under the heel of the Drow.
Souls that had never reached the bottom, or perhaps never stopped falling.
Vrinn's thoughts came apart like wet parchment.
Once, he had been noble. Once, powerful.
Now he was nothing but a falling thing.
Then, without warning, reality snapped.
Light exploded around him in a violent flash, searing white and gold, ripping him out of the abyss mid-descent.
The Clawrift vanished as if it had never been, replaced by cold stone beneath his broken body and the stink of rot, piss, and despair clogging the air.
Vrinn hit the ground hard, not with the finality of death, but with the humiliating thud of survival.
He lay in an alley in Baldur's Gate.
Not a noble district.
Not even a respectable slum.
This was a place where hope went to be forgotten.
His body was thin, starved, clothed in rags that clung to him like mockery.
His silver-grey skin was dulled, his eyes unfocused, his breath shallow and uneven.
Another homeless nobody among thousands.
Weak.
Helpless.
Forgotten.
Above him, the sky screamed.
A shadow swallowed the moon as something vast and obscene tore through the clouds.
The Nautiloid descended like a nightmare given form, its organic hull pulsing with sickly purple light, tentacles writhing as it hovered over the city like a hungry god.
Vrinn barely had time to register it.
A wet, skittering sound followed.
Something dropped.
The feeling struck him squarely in the face, a wave of sickening nausea. It felt slick and alive, wriggling with a frantic purpose, as if trying to get inside him.
Vrinn tried to scream.
Tried to move.
His body refused him one last time.
The tadpole burrowed into his eye.
There was pain.
Blinding, molten pain that nearly eclipsed even the Matriarch's cruelty.
His world fractured into purple static as the parasite forced its way inward, threading itself into his ruined mind like a parasite finding fertile soil.
Then darkness.
The vision shattered.
William staggered as the dreamscape recoiled, his breath hitching violently as the weight of everything he had witnessed crashed down upon him.
The multicolored void rippled and trembled, the echoes of Vrinn's fall still ringing in his ears and the deep-seated hatred within the remnant memory of Vrinn effectively found a home within William, the memory of past pain forever marking both his mind and soul.