He flashed and flared, especially at points on his forehead and the crests of both cheeks.
Finally the glow stopped and he lowered himself to the ground.
"Whoaaaaa," said Ranma - and vanished.
The newly pandafied Genma looked around in astonishment. When had Ranma learned such an impressive manuever. And why did he feel furry?
"Many tragic stories here, Mister Customer, but that one I no hear of before now." The Guide turned the panda back into a human with a splash of hot water. "Not have any idea what go on here. Do you?"
With the priestesses no longer receiving spells, things would eventually become very different. The clergy of Lolth controlled all aspects of their civilization and kept the infighting among the Houses from getting out of hand.
The weak were culled, as were the diseased or cursed. Only the strongest and most ruthless, the cleverest and the cruelest, could thrive in the cities of the drow.
There were those who failed those tests. Some became drider, their bodies and minds twisted into shapes that would help to "test" unwary drow and keep them strong - as well as being a lesson of what happened to any with less than perfect loyalty to the spider-goddess. There were those who were taken as 'battle captive' and geased with powerful spells to be the slaves of the more favored. There were still others who successfully fled the Underdark for other parts, and found other divine patronage. These were rare, very rare, and their tales were not spread where others might gain heart from them.
Still others were outcast from their House and lived lives much like those teeming throngs of slaves and the hangers-on of the cities, their slums providing more amusement for the cruel masters who had not fallen from grace.
Finally there were those who were used in other manners, such as those who found themselves in the Arena.
Dirai was of no House, and of less than noble birth. She had been the child of a soldier of low social standing attached to House Svithrae. Svithrae had slowly built up some trade and developed some goodwill with trade partners in the Underdark, reasoning that it was in their best interests to offer something the bigger cartels wouldn't - fair dealing with the lesser races. When they began to generate greater profit and get better deals, the inevitable occurred. Two of the more affluent Houses manufactured a scandal and slew the matrons of the House, divvied up the wealth, and killed or enslaved the remainder. Life as usual among the drow.
Dirai, known in Chad Nespair as Dirai The Blade, was doing something that amused a number of cellmates. Praying, and not to Lolth.
That was okay amongst them - though forbidden by their jailors. They were a group of misfits, any hour might see them thrown into the Arena and slain for the amusement of the higher ups. They were Arena slaves, and any abuse could be thrown upon them and they had no say in it.
The others were amused because none of them knew the names of other gods to call upon them. Oh - there were whispers of Vhaeraun, who was Lolth's sometimes bed-mate. There were the gods of the various other slave races, but speak them aloud and at the very least your tongue might be cut out.
Dirai had recently gotten a nasty wound along one side and the priestesses had not bothered to heal it completely. As it would slow her down in the next match, it would likely kill her through that indirect means. Hence turning to prayer.
"I direct my plea to any god or goddess that might help me and my sisters to win free from this life, send us a sign that we may gain hope from it," said Dirai, kneeling on the cold stone floor.
thump!
A young human boy appeared in the center of the cell, scratching his head and peering around in what to him was nearly total darkness. Then, while thinking about it, he realized how he could adjust his eyes to see like the elves around him.
"Someone answered?" asked one of the astonished cellmates.
"That can't be," said another, though lowly so as not to attract the priestesses and their damn serpent-flails. "There are wards and protections against any teleportations within these walls."
Dirai swallowed nervously and approached the boy, her red eyes gleaming in the darkness. A human boy? Was this the messenger of a human god or some cruel prank of the priestesses?
The boy looked into her eyes, and Saw her.
He saw the young girl whose parents had been slain in front of her. He saw the girl trained to be a warrior and fight in the Arena against horrific monsters and other slaves. He saw her raped, beaten, raped again by male and female and monster and -
There was pain there, and while he was not very powerful at present, he could do a little now. Lord Ao had proclaimed that one's power was dependent on the number of worshippers, but he could accomplish a little at present.
"I can do this little for you," said Ranma, reaching out to the kneeling girl and touching her forehead. He thought he could do this at least, and he was the sort to do things as opposed to thinking them out beforehand. For now at least. "Be Healed."
The wound closed. Tissues reknit. The horrors of the past receeded within her mind.
Dirai blinked now blue eyes as she felt fresh strength flow into her. Strength and a purpose. "Hide him! He is our one chance out of here!"
Not all of the others were as ready to turn their backs on their heritage or culture, but all were heartily sick of being the lowest of the low. They hid him as the priestesses, agitated by something, marched past the barred wall of their cell.
"What is he?" asked one of the others after the priestesses had passed by.
"A newly forged god, I think," said Dirai. "A new Time Of Troubles or something else, I do not know. Yet I have some clerical spells now, and I can heal your wounds Iranae."
Iranae's eyes narrowed as she considered all the angles. Though by nature she was more like one of her captors than Dirai, she realized that here was a great opportunity. "Your eyes changed color, they are now the shade of bright sapphires. Are you taller now?"
"The mark of favor," said Dirai with confidence. "My prayers were answered by Wild Stallion, and as he grows stronger, so too may his priestesses."
Iranae looked first to the taller, blue-eyed, Dirai then to the tired looking boy. It was said that the strength of the worshippers gave strength to the gods they worshipped, which was why Lolth wanted only the strongest drow to survive. What she should do was:
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