Sunday, March 15, 2009

T'risstree - A Tale of Silver, Onyx and Rubies - Part 1

Note: This is the first few chapters in a short story I wrote about T'risstree, who is a drow character I used to play in various games though the years. For anyone who is unfamiliar with the drow, they are an evil race (although some "good" drow have sprung up through the years), which is why this story is on the darker side.

For further information on drow, you can google them. Some of the language in this story is also drow.

Zebeyana took a last quivering breath. She felt as if she was ripped in half for a second, and then there was nothing but peace and quiet in the room. A sharp cry penetrated the quiet night, and Zebeyana was afraid to open her eyes.
What was it? It had to be a girl. It had to be.

“Ol zhah natha jalil!”[1]

With a big smile, Zeby opened her ruby colored eyes and welcomed her newborn baby girl into her arms. The future of the House of Xyldynn was finally secured, and so was her own life. She peered down at the tiny body that was lying on her chest. The baby’s skin was black like onyx and a pale trace of silver white hair was showing itself at the top of her head.

“T’risstree,” Zeby whispered. “We have been waiting for you.”
She let her fingers run across the tiny face, tracing around her small pointy ears before she embraced the little one completely and hugged her carefully.
The baby was so tiny, Zeby was afraid she would break if she hugged her too hard.

A door flew open, and in walked another dark skinned elf, followed by a cold wind gust. Zeby lifted her eyes to examine the visitor. The only telltale of her current emotion was her red eyes, which were reduced to glowing embers, expressing intense hatred. Apart from that, she kept a cool ice-queen posture.

“Ph' dos kr'athin?”[2] He sounded impatient.

Was she ready? Would she ever be?

Softly she planted a kiss on the baby’s forehead and handed her over to the male. She was determined not to break down in front of anybody, but felt as if she was being ripped apart for the second time that morning, and this time there no remedy for her pain. As she saw him walk out the door, carrying her baby girl, a cold, empty void spread within her and even though giving birth to a girl had saved her from a certain death, she felt as if she had nothing left to live for.


“Vendui’ dalnilnuk,”[3] T’risstree greeted her fellow study companion with a fake grin.
19 years, in human time, had gone by since she was born and she was now a young woman.
“Vendui’” Malice muttered.
The two exchanged a look that was less than friendly and sat quietly side-by-side waiting patiently for matron Viconia, who normally taught them the ways of the arcane circles.

What Zebeyana had been unaware of at the time of T’risstree’s birth, was that another female drow had been born only minutes before T’risstree entered the world. The matron was pleased to see more females in charge. She had feared for the future of Xyldynn and now she was certain that the House of Xyldynn would continue to grow.

“Vendui’ dalharen,”[4] Viconia strutted into the room and T’risstree focused her attention on her teacher, following her every move with her piercing red eyes.
“Vendui’ jabbress,”[5] Malice smiled and T’risstree rolled her eyes.
“What are we learning today?” T’risstree asked.
“Ladies, I’ve brought along one of our males to teach you how to hand the blade,” Viconia said. A silent movement in the doorway caught T’risstree’s attention.
“Usstan tlun Amalika,”[6] he said with a gleam in his eye. Confidently he pulled two swords out and juggled them around before handing one to Malice and one to T’risstree.
“Showoff,” Malice muttered and T’risstree chuckled.
“Takes one to know one,” she whispered before she got up from her chair, waving her sword in the air.
“Careful jalil,[7]” Amalika warned her and grabbed her arm.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” T’risstree snapped at him.
“If you wish to kill yourself, go ahead and do as you please. If not I suggest you listen to him,” Viconia said and Triss could hear Malice snickering behind her.
“Fine,” T’risstree muttered, angered over having been reprimanded in front of the male.

The next few days Amalika taught T’risstree and Malice how to swing their swords. T’risstree found herself enjoying these lessons far more than the arcane studies, whereas Malice was rather clumsy with the knives. She had cut herself three times already, whereas T’risstree was pleasantly scar free so far.
“You are ready for a second weapon.”
Amalika came up to her one day as she was practicing, and her eyes lit up at the compliment.
“Really?” she smiled.
“Really,” Amalika said.
He brought a shorter sword out and presented it to her.
“Bel’dos,”[8] she purred and let a finger run down his chest. Her red glare looked up at him, glowing with lust. Amalika seemed flattered by her come-on.
She had grown up to be a beautiful young woman. Her long hair was thick and silver-blonde in color, her body was tiny but curvaceous still and everybody had a hard time resisting her sparkling ruby eyes.
Amalika went on to show her how to fight with both hands. He wasn’t unaffected by her advances. She was constantly rubbing herself against him, and he simply wouldn’t have been a man if he showed no reaction.
Quickly she chopped through the air with her swords, then spun around to face him.
“Do you want me?” she cooed.
“How could I not want you,” he gulped.
“Then let’s put our swords away,” she smiled and he could do nothing but obey.
T’risstree tilted her head and glanced up at him with her irresistible smile, and he knew he was lost. She kissed him before plucking her clothes off one by one, revealing her perfect dark-skinned body to him, then she moved on to his clothes, and soon they were naked and passionately committed to one another for the three nights that followed.
On the third night, Amalika exited T’risstree’s room, still in a state of lust and unaware of the piercing look that was following him as he quickly walked down the corridor.
“Whore,” Malice sneered as she turned away in disgust and envy, but the plan that was brewing in her mind made her laugh.


T’risstree was sparring with Malice. It was a boring task, but someone had to do it. Malice had improved her sword skill, but was no challenge to Triss. To make better use of her time, Triss automatically swung her sword from side to side while daydreaming of what was to come later that night. She had grown fond of Amalika and they had made a habit out of meeting every night.
“Ladies, you’re looking good.”
Amalika emerged from the hallway and studied the two women dueling. For a second he pretended to be interested in the actual swordfight, before he shoved all pretences aside and openly stared at T’risstree as she gracefully swung her petite body out of the way of Malice’s attempted attacks.
“I’m tired,” Malice yawned and lowered her sword.
“Finally,” Triss commented and put on a sexy smile before turning towards the drow male. “Do you have time for some more… exercises?” she grinned as she slid towards Amalika, halting only inches away from him.
“Always,” he smiled and glanced quickly to the side, making sure Malice vanished out the door, before he melted between Triss’ hands and lost himself to her.
They had just gotten dressed again when Malice stormed back into the room.
“I must have lost my amulet,” she excused herself. “Do you mind if I look for it?”
“Not at all.” Triss pretended not to care about the interruption.
“Did you see it?” Malice asked them. “It was silver with a red stone…”
While they watched Malice search for her necklace, Amalika boldly placed a strong hand on Triss’ thigh. She looked up at him with a sensual smile while grinding against his hand.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she purred.
“Yes my mistress,” he pleaded and she locked eyes with him and knew she owned him.
“I can’t find it,” Malice pouted.
“Come with me male,” T’risstree commanded Amalika and he bowed his head and followed her out like an obedient puppy. They reached her room and she started removing his clothes for the second time that day, when an amulet fell out of his pocket.
It was silver with a red stone in it.
T’risstree gasped.
“Amalika?” She looked at him.
“I don’t know how that got there,” he stuttered.
“She placed it there,” T’risstree frowned. “She’s a jealous bitch… she has every right to be.” T’risstree grinned and clung to his body.
“Get rid of it and come back to me,” she said and he nodded and vanished out the door.

Minutes later a scream sounded from the hallway and Triss stormed out of her bedroom, just to see Malice lecturing Amalika.
“Thief!” Malice turned triumphantly to Triss, before quickly replacing her triumphant expression with one of despair for the rest of the crowd to see.
“Thief! He stole my amulet!”
Other curious drow had arrived at the scene when Matron Viconia made a graceful appearance.
“Young lady, what happened?” she asked Malice.
“This thief stole my amulet!” Malice pointed at Amalika.
“No I didn’t, I didn’t take it…” Amalika’s onyx-colored face was drenched in sweat and he was tugging at his white hair in frustration.
“He did take it! I had it before sparring class this morning and all of a sudden it was gone. I caught him with it, he was carrying it in his hands!” Malice was furious.
“What punishment do you wish for?” Viconia asked the young female drow. Malice’s eyes were glowing bright red as she turned and looked T’risstree directly in the eyes.
“Death,” she said. “A lesson needs to be taught!”
Triss gasped.
“He didn’t take it!” T’risstree sprung to his defense.
“You choose to believe the male over me?” Malice sobbed and put on an extraordinary performance, highly believable to everyone else. “Are you insane? He’s scum.”
T’risstree looked at Amalika who shook his head and put his finger to his lips, quietly telling her not to defend him. Her body trembled as it restrained itself from crying.
She would get in trouble if she chose to be on his side over Malice’s. It was his word against Malice, a male drow against a female drow, and there was no doubt whose word carried more weight.
Quietly he sunk down to his knees and put his swords on the ground.
“T’risstree? You’re good with the sword, maybe you could do the honors?” Malice’s cold eyes were staring right at her.

T’risstree looked at the crowd gathering around them. One day she wished to be head of this house. If she walked away from this, her chances would be greatly diminished, and they would have Malice in charge of their lives, which would be worse than death.
Proudly she swallowed her tears and her fear while calmly approaching Amalika, who was kneeling before her. Her voice was crisp and clear as she spoke.
“You shouldn’t have taught me quite as much,” she said as she grabbed one of his swords from the ground. He looked up at her with a smile and winked at her. She wished she could close her eyes, but she had to look in order to aim properly. They locked eyes and with all her strength and great speed she swung his sword, aiming for his neck. She watched in horror as the sword penetrated his skin and heard the subtle thump as his head hit the floor and it was over. Quickly she gathered his remaining swords from the ground before she ran into her room and threw up.

“It’ll be easy from now on,” she thought to herself. “Because from this day and forward, the only emotion that is allowed to penetrate my shell, is hatred. And I hate! I hate! I hate!!”
She was chanting to herself while staring into the mirror. Her eyes never shone so bright before but they were cold as stone.
“I hate…” she whispered.

To Be Continued.........

(Translations for the drow sentences used above:)
[1] “It’s a girl!”
[2] “Are you ready?”
[3] “Hello sister”
[4] “Hello children”
[5] “Hello mistress”
[6] “I am Amalika”
[7] “Girl”
[8] “Thank you”


Connie's Poems Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Connie's Poems Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ said...

Congratulations! You have just been awarded the "Honest Scrap" Award.
To view your award and claim it, visit

I would like to invite you to follow my blogs at my blogsite. Thanks :)

Connie's Poems

Ororina said...

Loved it! More, more, more!