High Matron Etyl of House Za'Darmondiel.
24th of Quartutus, 1492.
3:33 AM.
***
Of all the work done by my children and their spawn, there were many successes, yet only one failure. A fact that made matters worse, for little Aufa failed to get information on the one thing that truly mattered to me; and not only did she fail, she developed an obsession with those machines and, of all things, enchantments. To make matters worse, she was not the only one. Nym's fixation on twilight deepened upon learning of the surface elf's corruptive nature. As did Yaska, upon learning of the halfling's ability to so easily converse with souls and create as-of-yet unseen undead. The difference was; those abilities were of use to us.
Speaking directly to souls would allow us to bypass the psionic blockers that naturally arose from the astral monks' ki. Creating custom minions from the corpses of our enemies would benefit us in every way. Iris' eldritch body aside, the machines described on the surface were no different from those used by the dwarves around us. Loud, uncouth behemoths of metal and wood built to do a single task in perpetuity. For that, there were much better alternatives. Mana Crafting. Arcane Constructs. Males. Slaves. On the contrary, some things had the potential to be detrimental to us, if approached incorrectly. A divine empire with lands above the skies. A guild with many subguilds of so-called 'explorers,' composed entirely of seemingly meek demigods. An entire pantheon of Eternal-born deities amid development.
I saw to it that Ilar corrected her fourth daughter's mistake without error. Still an infant, Aufa was, like my Eban, Etan, Raki, and Ruel; not to mention Elg-Horr. It was important that children be properly educated, for they- especially these few- were the future of all drow; and the future of all drow was the future of the Mortal Plane.
Ten days were needed for such an endeavor, for in her centuries of practice, that was how much time the Abbot of these halls estimated Elg-Horr would need to reach the next step. Ilar and Ruel preceded my arrival. If not to verify the Abbot's claims, then to attempt one last time to right Aufa's wrong.
A foolhardy endeavor in both regards.
I felt it long before I arrived. A wicked cold crept through every defense in my armor and skin alike. Around my bones, it crawled, hissing foul threats to my soul as my steps endlessly echoed off the dank stones. Never before had I felt so close to something so foul. In that timeless moment, I felt as if I were waltzing before the maw of the most baleful creature in existence without my senses, and with no control of my body.
Outside its lair were creatures seen as both good and evil through the eyes of divination. More celestial wolves, more divine rogues, more machine men, and yet more undead; shadows and fiends alike, chanting and drumming to the praise of their sovereign, emerging beyond the threshold of a macabre chamber of black stone and deep shadows. Inside was the Destroyer himself, more emaciated than he'd ever been before. It was as if he'd been sealed in this chamber to undergo mummification, which was entirely plausible. His stomach was like a concave edifice carved beneath the overhang of his ribs, which huffed and heaved as easily as they would any other time. His skin was dryer than dry and yet gleaming with the sweat of intense focus; wrinkled by decay and yet kept smooth by his ki. The only thing that made him different from a mummy was the lack of jewelry and wrappings enveloping his body, other than the ones around his hands and feet.
It was the most dreadfully delightful thing I'd ever witnessed. In an instant, gone were the frustrations of my granddaughter's misdeeds. Replaced, they were, with visions of a crumbling Nydorden Halls and my Zimysta Falls wreathed in dark fire; visions of House Za'Darmondiel's males becoming monks of the vibrant night sky; visions of wickedness befalling those who loved the spider. Visions of a heart of darkness.
Therein brought about a quicker instance of my visions being replaced with a crimson wrath; for if my dear granddaughter had done her duty, those visions would have been complete with sights of drow guilds and clerics and druids spread across the Darkworld of every realm.
Yet again, that was replaced in a quicker instance once I met the Elven Devil's eyes and realized the true nature of that awe had sprouted from fear. I felt ashamed, and that shame bore unbridled hatred for the one to spawn it.
I was a High Matron of House Za'Darmondiel, the eldest house of all the realms. I was she who unleashed drow on Nonus in Her name, yet I feared a child! A half-breed male child! It was an unthinkable prospect. Yet my wisdom permitted me to peer through the crimson veil of Lilith's rage and understand why that was such, and it was only by Lilith's infinite grace that I understood how it was of benefit to us.
The answer had been beneath our blades from the start. So it was still as of this moment. The Bakewian sky was the first sign. The human children standing beside him when he first appeared were the second. The result of his walk was the third. The fourth was the tales of a divine miracle that began spreading just days before he arrived with these individuals, so eclectic, meek, and powerful. The fifth was the tale told by my traitorous first son. Even the stupid grin he gave me while necrotic ki billowed all around him was evidence enough.
Rather than approach them outright, I clung to the walls, ascending while muttering a silent prayer to connect with the minds of every cleric in the vicinity. "It seems his moniker was more apt than we realized. Both of his aliases are; the one given by the fifth above and by us. The truth is now apparent. The Elven Devil and the Queen Demon Spider cannot coexist. Yet, in her infinite wisdom, Lilith, Most High, knows this to mean he is both the enemy of Drow and our future.
"Destroyer, he is indeed. Amun is the Destroyer of the weak and meek, the pitiable, and the useless ways of old. The Destroyer of faithless drow. He will not guide us to greatness by capitulating to our great Goddess. He and his legions will be our divine enemy in an eternal war, guiding us to greatness by culling our Goddess's weakest brood."
***
Abbot Eiriol.
***
It was foreboding, the way the Matrons and Priestesses suddenly shifted in posture. Faces of incredulity were mixed with those of apathy and dread. But only for an instant. Within moments, they shifted to the feral smirks and wicked grins of scheming drow.
Naturally, Amun, now mummified, paid them no mind. Much to my surprise, however, Etan did the same. Despite being interrogated already, he seemed at ease about returning here to face the same, if not worse, treatment later on. Despite him knowing what awaited him below, he spurred his student onto the next step by pushing away the seemingly ever-growing Troupe to allow a few combatants to fill the space.
Being at the 14th Step, we expected the students to understand what came next by this point. Like the millions who came before him, Amun met our expectations by leaping into action the moment the floor was cleared.
Skipping with the Wind, he arrived before a gladiator, crouching low in his 'tiger' stance to strike at the stomach and chest. His nails thricely raked across the gladiator's torso before he his image flickered and he disappeared, having sunk to slide through the gladiator's legs to appear with his knife hand poised at the gladiator's back.
A sickening crunch vibrated the hall the moment Amun lunged forward. In turn, the gladiator pulled taut, standing on the tips of his toes while his arms clawed for his bleeding back. Uncaring about his plight, Amun kicked the man forward, separating the gladiator's spinal column and head from his crumpling body in a symphony of ripping bone and dripping flesh.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The ethereal greenish-blue fires of necrotic ki reactively surged into the dangling spine as Amun held it at the ready, causing each vertebra to extend and morph into a bony chain link attached to the chomping skull swaying before him.
"The [Arms of Death]," Amun said in a much more grim tone than I was used to. "With them, flesh and bone can become martial weapons. In this case." He paused as the chomping head pulled itself up to gaze at us. "A ball and chain."
Saying such, he ceased the spine and skull's motion around his body whilst skipping backward, rocketing him into the air, only for him to land in a powerful, tile-cracking stomp. Six loud knocks of flesh against wood echoed as his eldritch ki surged into the cracks at his feet and spread across the floor. Upon crossing the length of the ring, another six knocks pulsated the ki, and it raced along the circumference to fall back on itself, bringing about a final six knocks to fill the space with the abyssal darkness of a family more ancient than ours.
The remaining gladiators seemed perturbed by the sight. Naturally so. More so, however, they began to glow with the same color as the 'door' beneath them, creaking open to allow the grim hands of death to hold them in place while Amun and the freshly raised headless corpse went into action.
The former hooked the 'chain' around his foot and kicked, sending the chomping skull slamming into the chest of one while the headless corpse flipped and sailed through the air, landing with a kick and a leg sweep before rolling onto the gladiator, grabbing hold of his rags, and rolling backward to kick him into the air in Amun's direction. Amun met him halfway, darting forward to deliver a spinning kick into the gladiator's ribs.
As the gladiator tumbled away, I saw a spectral visage of the same being standing where he'd just been, screaming at the sight of his convulsing corpse while those vile hands pulled his soul into the Abyss.
"Gained at the Thirteenth Step along with the [Arms of Death,] [Reap the Dead] raises monastic undead in a higher tier. Draugr. Mummies. Revenants. A headless hunter, in this case." Amun said to the silent inquiry once the undead gladiator took its place next to Amun and grabbed its weaponized head and poised it atop his shoulders, throwing snarls and scowls at the unseen eyes above as the spine-whip slinked back into place.
My heart skipped with morbid pleasure at the sight. Only for the dispersing field of ki to capture my attention once again. "" Amun said
"Something was pulled under. Was it… his soul?" I asked, gesturing around the now-ordinary pit.
"Oh, you saw that?" Amun turned, smiling with surprise. "It was. It's my most recent perk. [Dead Door Knock] marks the souls of those who hear its echoes. If they're standing within a certain radius, they're immobilized by Death's grasping hands. If they're killed, their souls go to my pit."
"Your... pit?" I echoed. To which he nodded simply.
"Yes. My Underworld."
"Right," I said, nodding Etan forward to train him in the boons granted by forming the ki circuit. A simple task for one of elven blood.
"First, tell us of any changes to the Spiritual Tongue perk you obtained at the Twelfth Step."
"The [Tongue of the Cradle and Grave]," Amun said. "It allows me to transcend language between me and all things, both living and dead."
That was of little surprise. Thus, Etan nodded and raised his hand to release the violet fires of his ki, now tinged with hints of blue and gold. Rather than letting the ethereal energy flicker, however, he condensed and further refined the fires until it formed a blinding sphere in his palm. "And the other perk? Ki Beam," he said, thrusting his palm to send a beam crashing into a nearby goblin.
The goblin hurtled across the room with a pitiful cry and remained unmoving upon rolling to a halt, its chest singed and mangled beyond recognition. No different from the arcane variant used by even the weakest elves. "You must master this before you reach the next hall, where you will create a Meditation Hall from your focus chamber."
With only a nod, Amun continued his march. An act that seemed to please every pair of eyes around us.
Indeed, I too was eager to see Amun spread carnage throughout my Halls. More importantly, I was just as eager as everyone else to stretch my legs once again, at least until the next stint of focused meditation. Still, however, there was no room to complain. It had taken just eight days for Amun to form his first circuit between the 1st and 2nd natural ki ponds. Twice as much, if not more time would be needed to open the 1st and 2nd necrotic ki ponds; and then more to open the 3rd and 4th natural ki ponds and link them into a circuit. At least in theory. This class of monks has been flying down the path just as quickly as Etan had, and naturally, they did not have the close eye of a High Matron spurring them along. Those other monks did not have Amun's superpowered strength, however. With so much strength stolen from the living, the restraint shown in his movements was all too clear. Yet it was verified by his troupe. Namely, by his adopted daughter and her subordinate monk, Deeke.
According to her and the equally strange boy, their strength was the reason few of the troupe chose to fight through the Halls. Instead, they displayed their prowess in different ways. Through songs, praise, or the act of creation; through hunting and feasting on the creatures of the underground or raising their cadavers into undead beings. Because of that and the deathly aura crawling ever deeper into the halls, the gladiators and enslaved warriors who called this place home found the most out-of-the-way holes to hide in, but that was fine. The monastic path was one of the few that persisted long after one reached the end. It was a physical journey. However, the mental and spiritual journey of a monk was a lifelong endeavor. Amun had stepped past the need for constant battles with his walk. The challenges here were to ensure he could use his perks properly, and once verified, he had only two aspects to develop: his ponds and his circuit. And yet, Amun seemed to be intent on testing his athleticism by leaping and running through the Hall for hours on end. Aiming, it seemed, to either delay the next phase or put his mark on every surface found within before he landed in front of Etan near the next Hall's entrance.
"Contrary to Focus Chambers, Meditation Halls are formed in areas with high natural energy rather than intense mana zones," Etan explained, gesturing around the cavernous complex we entered, filled with a taste of the astral plane, bathed in ki. A sight Amun seemed indifferent to, almost as if he'd seen it before. His Troupe, however, still gazed upon the mushroom forest spread above the mossy meadows with a sense of wonder; uncaring of the countless spiders watching them from within.
"These so-called Places of Power are the only places monks can open the third ki pond. They are rare, in nature, and can form from any energy outside of mana, be it natural, primal, elemental, or spiritual energy. Similar to Focus Chambers, however, a skilled monk who has learned to meditate in such a place can easily recreate one within their temple using the Glyph of Power.
"Your task is exactly that. Create your Meditation Hall in the next hall, directly beneath your Focus Chamber, to open your first and second necrotic ki ponds." Etan gestured to the door behind him and turned back to Amun, holding a necklace of beads ranging in size from eyeballs to fists. "As was the case above, you must focus your meditation on these."
It was a simple practice, in theory. In reality, it required nonstop meditative focus and a mastery of intense ki control. Things Amun had in excess, yet the wait would be long all the same, for he had more steps to make this time around. It was not all for naught, however, for we'd long since streamlined our courses over the Bodhi Tree's 999 classes, we had a lot to ponder the perk displays he gave us, and he wasted no time entering the shrine as he did any other place, with a great smile akin to a war master gazing upon a captured dwarven treasury. His eyes turned about in every direction, following the flow of the energies down the corkscrewed chasm to the crystal obelisk at its center, yet he remained attentive to his teacher all the same.
"Welcome to the heart of Nydorden Halls," Etan told him and the other monks of his Troupe; Sam and the strange boy, Deeke, among others. "Such Shrines of Enlightenment are Extreme Mana Zones imbued with both Ki and extra-planar energy. Or, to put it another way, a Place of Power merged with an extreme mana zone. As such, they are only found near extra-planar gates. Natural or otherwise. These shrines are the only places a monk can open the fourth natural ki pond and link them together. As such, those energies will greatly influence the monk in question."
"Hence our Astral Way," I concluded. "After finding a shrine leading to the Astral Realm, a place where the mind is more powerful than anything. Subconscious thought, emotion, and dreams shapes reality in that realm. I relied on the ancient Youteran records to move down this path. As yours will be, the final step was to build this temple and train monks according to my monastic way. Step Fifteen tasks you with forming a Meditation Hall within a Place of Power. You will skip this task. Instead, you will form your Meditation Hall within this Shrine of Enlightenment, where you will remain, sealed with the Shrine's energies and your ki until you reach the Seventeenth Step."
Pausing, I waved over a slave to deliver not beads but a large blank scroll. "Opening your final two ki ponds at the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Steps requires you to travel to the place of your power and meditate within. Doing so will imbue your necrotic ki onto this scroll, inscribing all there is to know about your monastic way, for that is what you will use to teach the Way to Death's Door to your students." Turning, i faced those other monks of the Elven Devil's Troupe." I know not where the rest of you will need to go- if you even need to at all, considering your classes of legend." I mused, turning back to Amun. "I imagine you will have to venture to a place of death - your... Underworld."
"Yes." He nodded. Then stepped off to form his Meditation Hall without another word.