Tocai immediately analyzed the old woman.

Dark elf female

Level Unknown

Mana Unknown

Hitpoints Unknown.

Description:

Deep beneath the earth, in a labyrinthine network of tunnels and caverns, lies the world of the dark elves. Known as the Dark Pathways, this subterranean realm is home to a society unlike any other.

Deep within the mysterious, world-spanning subterranean passages lies Morgulthrendor, the enigmatic capital city of the dark elves. Carved from formidable black stone, its towering walls and spires seem to reach almost out of sight in their massive cavern city. The winding streets are bathed in the flickering glow of red and purple mystical orbs, casting ethereal shadows on the surrounding walls. Governed by a powerful matriarchy, the Shadow Fortress of the Hidden Depths is a realm where arcane prowess and noble lineage reign supreme, commanding both respect and authority.

The dark elves are a society that values strength and cunning above all else. They are known for their incredible magical abilities, which they use to manipulate the world around them. They are skilled in the art of illusions and can twist reality to their will. However, their magic is not the only weapon at their disposal. They also employ a variety of creatures to do their bidding, including hobgoblins, trolls, and goblins. These creatures are fiercely loyal to their dark elf masters and are used as both soldiers and workers.

Despite their strength, the dark elves are not a populous society. Their numbers are small, and they rely on the creatures they control to make up for their lack of population. This is especially true in the cities, where the dark elves are outnumbered by their servants. However, they are fiercely protective of their way of life and will go to great lengths to ensure that their society endures.

The dark elves are a secretive people, and few outsiders ever venture into their realm. They are suspicious of those who are not of their kind and view them with disdain. They are, however, expert traders and will sometimes deal with other races for goods that they cannot obtain on their own. However, such dealings are rare, and the dark elves prefer to keep to themselves.

The dark elf societies in the Dark Pathways are a mysterious and powerful force to be reckoned with. Their magical abilities, fierce loyalty to their matriarchal rulers, and use of other creatures as soldiers and workers make them a unique and formidable society. Despite their small numbers, they have managed to carve out a world of their own in the depths.

G was unsure of what to do. His first instinct was to trust the old woman because she sounded friendly. He started to move forward.

"Don't do it!" Tocai exclaimed so loudly in his mind his voice was almost causing him pain.

"It's fine. She's just an old woman," said G as he stood up.

"It's the ring affecting your mind again!" Tocai argued.

He felt confident about his decision. "So, does it matter?" He replied, dismissing his familiar's concerns.

"Ahh, there you are, dear," said the old woman.

The old woman's voice was gravelly and rough as if she hadn't spoken in ages. "Well, well, what do we have here?" she rasped as she looked at G. "A lost traveler, I presume?"

He nodded, feeling slightly intimidated by the old woman's appearance.

"She has some magic affecting her appearance. She isn't what she seems. We need to get that ring off you," Tocai warned, now shouting. G just ignored him, certain that this kind old woman wouldn't harm him.

The old woman cackled at his response. "No need to be afraid, young one. Come, come, I have food and drink inside. You look like you could use a good meal."

He hesitated for a moment, but the thought of a warm meal was too tempting to resist. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he said, following her inside the tower.

As they walked, the old woman's movements were slow and deliberate, as if every step took great effort. G noticed the cluttered chaos of the tower room, the window they had seen outside, and the faint glimmer of magical energy that seemed to pulse around the old woman in his magical sight.

Once inside, the old woman gestured for G to sit down at a small table while she bustled around the room, gathering food and drink. She brought a steaming bowl of soup from the pot on the fire and a crusty loaf of bread, a pitcher of water, and a mug.

"Help yourself, young man," she said, her voice still gravelly. "I hope you don't mind a humble meal, but it's all I have to offer."

As G took a seat at the small table, the old woman shuffled over with a steaming bowl of mushroom soup. The aroma of the soup filled his nostrils, making his mouth water. The woman placed the bowl in front of him, and he could see small pieces of boiled meat and chunks of mushroom floating in the rich broth.

He used the spoon to pick up a piece of the meat from the soup and looked at the woman quizzically.

The woman's wrinkled and wizened elven features turned into a smile, "Do not worry, young man, it is gretchik meat. I'm sure you have seen them in the forest, small, furry, with hand-like paws? It's one of the few things in this forest that isn't poisonous to eat that is not a mushroom. Oh, sorry, we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Phanvupu. Most people just call me Phanu or Phan." She smiled again at G.

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He didn't know if people shook hands here, so he just nodded and smiled back. "Oh, sorry, I'm G. That is my companion Crewton." Crewton came over when he heard his name and sat down beside his chair.

"Nice to meet you, G. It's a fine hour for new company. What manner of beast is that?" she asked, bending over to get a better look at Crewton.

"Oh, Crewton? He is a dog, a Boston Terrier. We have been friends a long time," said G, dipping the spoon back into the soup and taking a sip. The warm and soothing soup filled his mouth with a savory and slightly sweet flavor. The mushrooms had a soft texture and were cooked to perfection, while the meat was tender and juicy. The combination of spices in the soup gave it a unique tangy taste that lingered on the back of his tongue.

As he savored the soup, he could feel the warmth spreading through his body and the soft velvety texture of the broth coating his mouth. He looked up at Phan and nodded his thanks while tearing a piece off the hunk of bread on the table. She smiled warmly, and her eyes twinkled with kindness. He took another spoonful of the soup, savoring the rich and hearty flavors. He was surprised at how delicious the simple meal was and how much he had missed hot, cooked food.

"So why is it that a couple of strangers come to old Phan when there is a whole forest out there to travel? I don't get many visitors in these parts," said Phan as she turned back to the pot in the fireplace, throwing some dried mushroom stalks on the fire.

He considered telling her why he needed to get to Mirbor and decided it was a good idea to be honest with this new friend, despite ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind and Tocai's advice.

"We are looking for a way up to Mirbor, and I was hoping this tower would be that way. Perhaps you can help us?" he asked.

Phan smiled, stretching the skin of her face, then frowned. "Oh yes, there is a way up to the dark roadways again. And you were correct that there is a way up here in the tower. But why would two such as you want to go there? They are just as likely to eat you as greet you in that dark city."

Something she just said alarmed him; she had called him an elf outside, and now she said they would eat him. She knew he wasn't a dark elf for sure; somehow, she knew he was an elf. "Oh, well, I have a quest of sorts, and it takes me there. I have to find some people and—" His sentence trailed off as he suddenly became very tired.

"Ah, well, you just need to go up the winding stairs here to reach the top. It's a bit of a climb, but I'm sure you two can make it," she stopped speaking and watched G.

"G, stay awake! It's smoke, G!" shouted Tocai in his mind.

As G struggled to stay awake, he heard the old woman muttering to herself. He couldn't make out her words, but he could sense the inner conflict that seemed to be tearing at her. There was a sense of turmoil and confusion in her voice, as if she was struggling with a decision that went against her better judgment.

Despite his danger, G found himself feeling a strange empathy for the old woman. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about her that he found fascinating and intriguing. He couldn't help but wonder about her past and the experiences that had led her to this moment. He looked briefly at the ring on his finger.

As he drifted off to sleep, G felt a strange sense of sadness and regret, as if he was leaving something behind that he might never be able to reclaim. In the moments before he succumbed to the old woman's magic, he couldn't help but wonder what fate had in store for him and his faithful dog, Crewton, and whether they would ever make it to the ancient city of Mirbor alive.

***

Once G and his pet were asleep, Phan's form changed. Where there had been a wizened old woman, a younger version now stood, wearing dark black leather clothes that covered an equally dark set of leather armor. Her appearance was of a dark elf woman still in her early prime. Her hair was a sleek raven black, cascading down her back in loose waves. Her skin was a deep shade of grey with subtle blue undertones, unblemished by age. Her eyes shone with an otherworldly quality, a deep shade of purple that seemed to shift and change depending on the light. Delicate flecks of blue and gold swirled within the irises, adding an enchanting glimmer to her already striking gaze. Two daggers hung at her waist. The woman waved her hand, and the smoke stopped coming from the fire. She looked around the room once more.

She reached over and rolled G's face sideways, and pulled the cowl away. "Oh, disgusting, what kind of elf is this?" she muttered. She rolled his face back and forth and tried to pull the hood all the way back to look at his golden hair, but then she sensed magic roll through the hood and cowl, and they both affixed themselves back in place. That was odd; what manner of clothing was this? She could see the magic of enchantment on it, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen. At first, she had thought it was a dark elf master's robe, but once she pulled back the front for the brief moment before more mana pushed it closed again, she saw a jacket of some unknown cut under it and gloves. Dark-elven mages never wore anything like that.

She fingered her dagger a few times, contemplating whether she should dispose of this elf. The unknown was rarely a good thing in the dark pathways, and she still had her mission to complete. Now that the armies had stopped searching for her and were off on some other errand, she could go back and finish her assignment to kill the queen.

She looked at G again, about to pull the dagger, but something about this elf appealed to her on some level she hadn't felt before. She wasn't very old by elf standards, but she had seen her share of men of all races; not many piqued her interest, but something about this elf was different. She was having trouble understanding her feelings as she quietly fidgeted with her dagger.

She had always been proud to have earned the dagger called "Death's Kiss," a special weapon for dark elf assassins. The blade is made of top-quality obsidian, and the handle comes from the bone of a rare creature found in deep caverns. The handle was decorated with detailed silver patterns that wound around the bone and twisted into an elaborate design at the bottom. The very end of the dagger featured a small skull with glowing purple eyes that appeared to peer into the soul of anyone who looked at it.

The blade was narrow and sharp, with a slight curve that made it perfect for quick, deadly strikes. The edge was honed to perfection, allowing it to cut through flesh and bone with ease. The tip of the blade was long and pointed, perfect for piercing vital organs or slipping between armor plates.

But what made Death's Kiss truly terrifying is its ability to poison its victim's life force. The blade was enchanted with ancient magic that caused it to glow with a sickly green light whenever it drew blood. This light was the last thing many of the assassin's targets ever saw before they succumbed to the dagger's deadly power.

The Death's Kiss symbolizes fear and death to anyone who knows of its existence. Its reputation as a weapon of the most lethal assassins in dark elf society was well-known; even the most powerful nobles and magic users knew to fear it and those who earned it.

She thought about these unnatural feelings she was having about this elf named G. She pulled the dagger from its sheath, intent on fixing this problem, when a great bellow came from the doorway. Then a tremendous hammer blow hit the door, and the stones shook under her feet. She recognized that roar, having almost died when she had discovered that lost temple. Why was that creature here? She needed to leave, so she turned and pushed a lever on the wall, opening the hidden doorway to the stairs. Then she ran, no longer concerned with G and his dog, as the door behind her flew off its old hinges.