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dnd_drow

Dataset card Data Studio Files
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They told Raphael to make his move sooner rather than later; less someone snatched her away.
Now, Haarlep was cleaning up his mess – again.
Picking up the pieces and rearranging them how they should have been this whole time.
Tav with them, her band of misfits under their thumb – or eliminated – the Crown of Karsus on the horizon. Raphael would make sure her group finished their little quest to slay the Elder Brain. Tav may even be allowed to join them; but in the end – she would return here.
The House of Hope would be her new permanent home.
It was a perfectly devious plan, with only one possible flaw.
Astarion may pose an issue. The Vampire Spawn was far too attached, had the potential to be an irritating thorn in their side. Haarlep toyed with a devious plan – should the leech step out of line; they recalled a Vampire’s inquiry about his precious missing Spawn.
Haarlep hummed low enough not to disturb their guest; walking over to secure two robes and lay them over another chair besides the entrance to Raphael’s personal bathing quarter. A leisurely sigh left their lips as they basked in the memory of Astarion’s horror as they sauntered into the cells block. Each member of Tav’s party chained or caged, guarded by Beholders and other Aberrations – awaiting Raphael’s retribution.
Tav had still been out cold, all alone, and wrecked from her little battle.
All members of her party were worse for wear.
Flies that willingly entered the spider’s web.
The look on the Vampire’s face when Haarlep slipped into her cell.
The sound as his chains snapped taunt, the absolute frenzied wrath that painted his pale sharp features when they picked her up, cradled her against their chest. Her, now ex, paramour had raged against his restraints. The Imps hovered about, ready to intervene should the threat to the secondary Master of the house escalate.
It was delicious.
It served the scum right.
Astarion should have known what was to come – he had hidden away in the shadows as they had their wicked way with Tav. The knowledge elated them, drove them to kick up the act; really pick the pretty rare Drow apart at the seams. Just to hear the barely audible hitch in the Spawn’s false breath – the stench of jealousy tainted with the tang of envy, permeated the air from his hidden alcove.
Haarlep would bet good coin Astarion did not reveal his voyeuristic conduct to Tav.
Should they be the ones to tell her, her creature of the night took pleasure in her defilement?
Haarlep stilled themselves. Infernal sense of hearing strained to its limits. They could almost imagine the sound of the Vampire Spawn’s howling in the lowest levels of House of Hope.
How delightfully heartbreaking.
When they were done with their little thief, she would not even remember the name Astarion.
That doomed little affair held the same tragic flavor as those absurd poems and narrative fiction Raphael hid in his desk.
For such a fearsome Cambion, their Master was such a romantic at heart.
It was a side of Raphael, Tav would not be privy to for a while, they feared. Their triad had a long road ahead of them; and Haarlep could still taste the fight in her – dormant as it was at the moment. They dreamed of a future where the three of them could curl in Raphael’s enormous bed – lazing about, filling their days with carnal feasts and enthusiastic debauchery.
Haarlep knew Raphael wanted the woman, as annoying as the information was initially. They saw the contract he had preemptively drawn up and at the ready – just waiting for the perfect moment to sink his claws into her flesh.
Their Master may be....cross – when he realized they stole the little mouse away, but It was a risk they were willing to take. Raphael’s pride was too damaged, and his temper too volatile. He had the potential to cause irreversible damage to Tav and ruin any hope of a more ambrosial future.
It would have been such a waste to leave her rotting with the others; would be easier in the long run if they spared her some of Raphael’s more – demoniac – attentions in turn for breaking her in and getting her used to them; her new place in life.
This way, the control was in Haarlep’s corner – they were an Incubus after all. They would be able to redirect if Raphael’s play danced too far towards the edge of irreversible damage. It was their job; provide a distraction and cull the more heinous of their Master’s inclinations.
Haarlep could not wait.
Excitement thrilled through their veins, curled deep in their feminine form.
Haarlep silently sauntered towards the bed; bored – eager to see all the lovely sounds they could pull from their thief. Eager to surprise Raphael with their prize.
Golden eyes slanted to the figure on Raphael’s bed. 
The Incubus stalked closer towards their new pet – found themselves rather fond of the idea of having her by their side.
They knew how mailable she was, had a taste of it when they solidified their pact with sex.
Oh yes, It was very naive of her to think they would let her off the hook so easily. One does not tempt an Incubus, seduce the soon-to-be Archdevil Supreme and simply walk away.
Tav floated in the darkness of her mind.
She tried to claw her way into the waking world.
Every nerve screamed from magical exertion. Her muscles were overused and felt weighed down by the gelatinous sluggish flow of blood pulsing through veins. The soft sting of lacerations yet to heal; only just scabbing over – pulled and yanked with every minuscule movement.
She felt like a broken doll with its severed strings – trapped and immobile. Her skull pounded with every beat of her heart.
Louder and louder.
It was hard to register anything other than pain.
She remembered pieces of the battle with Raphael – the jibes Astarion made about the great self-proclaimed Archdevil being a disappointment in bed; both to make fun of and distract him during battle.
It worked for a time, until the very end.
Tav did not know where they went wrong – which spells critically missed, what weapons broke or who did not cast healing enchantments quick enough.
It may have been when Korrilla fell, cut down by Yurgir. Shortly after, when Hope registered the loss of her sister – the Gold Dwarf lost her concentration. One of Rapheal’s Cambion followers reflected her radiant damage from Divine Intervention back as fire damage. It had all happened too quickly for any of their party members to intervene.
After that blow, their party lost their edge.
Tav tried to compensate by quickly picking off the minor Cambions and turning her attention to Raphael; so, she could strengthen their unified front against him.
She should have been more aware; should not have let her guard slip.
Tav could have never anticipated the phantom sensation – a tingle from afar – a warmth that curled around her breasts and settled low in her womb. The reaction had been so...misplaced – ludicrous in its intensity – that it shocked Tav long enough for someone to get the slip on her.
She recalled the sharp flash of pain along the back of her skull; her conscious snuffed out like a flame pinched between two fingers.
Tav inhaled, pulling herself from the fractured recollections.
Fingers curled against the plush velvet beneath her. The softness surrounding her caused apprehension to bubble to the surface. She should feel the dirtied floor of that dank cold, yet sweltering, cell; could vaguely recall glimpses from fleeting moments of consciousness. Cold cobbled stone, the electric snap of magical restraints, angered voices of her friends, the creak of metal gates slamming shut.
Instead, she felt the pillowy mattress and familiar thick velvet duvet cushioning her shoulders and hips, the luxurious fabric pressed into the strips of bare flesh left vulnerable from the slashes along her under clothes. Gone was her hard earned, pillaged, armor; destroyed in battle.
She inhaled again, caught the faint combination of sulfuric cherries.
Tav was alive, but she might have been better off dead.
She swallowed the bitter truth of her situation.
She tried to open her eyes but found her lids heavy, felt as though they were weighed down by bags of sand. She struggled to gain her bearings. The echoed memories before absolute darkness were filled with flashes of spells, the sound of blades clashing and Raphael’s bestial roar.
The only sounds she could make out now, was the soft crackle of wood; the rhythmic pop and snap of burning sap, enhanced and too distinct to pass as a campfire.
The muscles along her shoulder and spine contracted. the action caused the sourness to spread and a small whimper to leave her split lips.
The phantom feel of nails scratching along the base of her skull paired with the tactile feel of hair flowing through her own fingers etched goosebumps across her sore flesh.
Tav shivered involuntarily.
There was only one Fiend gifted enough to pluck such a reaction from her.
A small sense of panic took root in her stomach and spread like a virus.
She willed her magic to her fingers but was too exhausted to pull anything to the surface. Her connection to the Weave was blocked – the small amount she was able to scratch lacked its usual intuitive intoxicating flow; instead, the arcane magic burned as if the magical core she cultivated rejected it – her.
Her distress rose to new heights.
She was so fu –
The bed dipped beside her.
Warm fingers reached over her shoulder to pull the curtain of hair away from her face. The actions tingled along her own digits.
"Poor, little thief." Haarlep hushed in her voice. "Your eyes got bigger than your stomach – didn’t they." The Incubus continued, fingers brushed the rest of her hair out of her face, revealing her bare shoulder. They leaned closer – Tav could feel their breath caress her ear; tone dipped low. "Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we."
There was a small barely audible "click,’ and a tension Tav had not been aware of was released from her neck. Arm’s slid under her shoulder and knees. Haarlep rolled her into their arms as if she weighed nothing. Lifted her dead-weight and walked away from the bed.
Tav whimpered as her body lightly jolted with their actions.
"Shh – it will be ok soon."
Tav knew nothing would be ok, ever again.
The crackle of fire faded; replaced by the soft trickle of water and a humidity in the air. Tav could smell the faint whiff of the cherry scented oils she associated with Raphael’s bath water after their initial minor battles; each a precursor to their doom.
Tav tried to open her eyes – wanted to struggle; but she was too damaged. Shadowheart had spoiled her with her quick healing and attentiveness. Tav was no longer used to being worn down for so long. It was like moving through quicksand; and she was sinking.
"Here we are." Haarlep slowly walked them both down the steps and deeper into Raphael’s rejuvenating bath. The water bordered on too hot – but the effects were instantaneous. The burn left her muscles, lacerations and scabs prickling then the sharp stings faded to nothing – not even the residual memory lingered on her skin.
"Take a breath." Haarlep instructed.
Tav went rigid. Her hands flew to grip the mirror image of her own that pressed against her clavicle.
"Hush now, drowning you is the last thing on my mind, my sweet little thief." Haarlep rasped in amusement. "Now, take a breath."
Tav relented. Inhaled and prayed to her patron – there was only silence.
Haarlep’s other hand cupped the back of her head as they balanced her weight on their knee; using the buoyancy of the water to assist them. The hand on her chest pressed down and they dipped her below the surface – the entire ordeal felt like an unholy baptism.
Tav thought she had been held underwater for an eternity; but it was only seconds. Haarlep help lift her head out of the water, brushed the rivets of rejuvenating liquid from her eyes and cheeks.
All the pain and soreness dissipated. Tav could open her eyes, felt the heaviness leave them the moment Haarlep submerged her, but she was too scared to open them; did not want to face reality.
"Open your eyes, little mouse." Haarlep stated softly.
This was a trap. Tav hoped for oblivion – wished to go back in time and choose another option – find another way to get the Orphic Hammer.
"I will not ask nicely again, Tav." There was a sharp edge to Haarlep’s voice. An edge Tav was sure she would not be able to replicate with her own vocal cords.
Tav’s eyes opened. Vision blurred then slowly her surroundings came into focus.
She floated in the huge octagonal bath within Raphael’s quarters, propped on his personal Incubus. An Incubus that was wearing her recently acquired form.
Tav swallowed thickly – found her mouth to be less tacky than moments prior.
"Haarlep – why am I here." Tav could only assume; but would rather not – preferred to avoid stewing in her pessimism.
"Where else would you be?" The Incubus tilted their head – her head – to the side. Voice playful, eyes sharp like daggers.
The entire experience was jarring – set Tav further on edge and made it hard for her to think.
"Could you not..." Tav hesitated, felt crazed for even having to ask. "Use my form when we talk? It’s too – It’s too much."
"Does the little mouse prefer Raphael’s form?" Haarlep’s chest rumbled with their low chuckle. Amusement chased that dangerous look away. "Oh – he is going to eat that up."
Tav did not understand what they insinuated but was grateful when the form beneath her morphed. The muscles she sat on grew in size and felt firmer. Breasts faded to hard pectorals, soft stomach melted to the chiseled abs and ribbed flesh of the Incubus’ Cambion Master. Horns curved from their skull, wings elongated and flicked out as if her form somehow caused the bat-like appendages strain. A tail curled under the cuff of her drowned pant leg to twine around her ankle.
Tav moved to push herself away from the Incubus. Intent to eliminate the intimate position and gain some mental clarity; unconsciously reaching out to the Weave only to come across a void.
Haarlep’s arms curled around her. Tightened to cut off her retreat.
With a small "tsk’ sound; they maneuvered her to sit with her back against their chest. Tail released her ankle to curl around her waist and arms – managing to immobilize her. Their fingers went to work plucking at the strings of her shirt  until it dipped loose and low. That damned tail unwound and Haarlep yanked the material up and over her head before she could react.
Intuitively, Tav’s hands rose to cover her breasts, turning around with a gasp.
Haarlep let her react – used that momentum to hook their fingers under the elastic band of her trousers and slide them off her as she shoved away.