DC/RH BK II, CH 21: The Lord of Delirium

Chapter Twenty-one: The Lord of Delirium

In all the ways that truly matter, the faerie are akin to nature  spirits. Leonard Thurnstein, Court Mage, Magister of the Mages Guild and  renowned authority on all things faerie describes the fae as truthful  though sometimes distorted, reflections of the world around them.  Sprites embody the features of their land. Pixies reflect its mana.  Other fae, reflect the seasons and the passage of the times. While the  elements are the domain of elementals, there is no shortage of fae with  elemental abilities. Some faerie creatures represent not the physical or  the mystical but the conceptual.

Despite Thurnstein’s great work, the faerie by their very nature defy  classification. Sure, his research made some sense against the backdrop  of pixies and sprites but what of brownies? Or the boggarts and  gremlins? All three defied his nomenclature. These were even the lesser  uncomplicated faeries, what of the greater fae, the ones who came  shrouded with the bloom and gloom?

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The stag snorted, its huge nostrils flaring even as it shook its  head. Something was wrong. It could feel it. The air was thick with musk  and the walls were closing in. That couldn’t be right. Why were there  so many two and three-headed animals? Trying to move back to clear more  room for itself only saw it misstep and sway in a manner that threatened  to bring it to the ground. The adventurers were not much different.

Jeanette leaned back against the cavern wall, closing her eyes to  stop the spinning. It worked somewhat. No more spinning but she still  felt heady. The pounding in her chest didn’t help. Next to her, Bofur  leered, his eyes bloodshot, jabbering about something she couldn’t quite  make out. Another member of her team had long bared herself to the  world, howling and gyrating like a fiend.

Something was clearly wrong. Jeanette could not quite put her finger  on it. Maybe it was her staff slithering away from her. Maybe it was the  pink elephants. Those weren’t there earlier, were they? She turned to  ask the cavern wall but it wasn’t sure either. The floor was angry she  didn’t ask it first so it tilted under her. Jeanette fell. Luckily, her  new friend the cavern wall caught on quickly and tried to catch her in  its arms. Silly wall! Its hands were too hard. Now her head was  bleeding. She put her hand to it and it came away bright red.

“Hey Bofur!” she called out, her voice strangely distant.

“Why does blood have to be so red?” she asked, wiping it off on her cream frock.

‘Damn! That’s going to stain!’ she realised. Red stains too. Purple and blue stains would have been so much better.

Bofur did not answer. He pointed at Theresa, their companion and  jabbered on. Jeanette turned to look and would you know it, the naked  woman was trying to force herself on a very confused and upright badger.  Speaking surprisingly good common, it refused her advances and tried to  run off, stopping only to pick up her discarded armoured jacket and  wear it like a coat. Theresa yowled and yipped before taking off on all  fours after her new, two-legged mate. The deer gathered to wish her the  best and sing wedding ballads.

Watching this, Jeanette couldn’t help but giggle. Giggles became  full-blown laughter. Soon, she was laughing so hard she was having  trouble breathing. Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one. Together, she  and her friend, cavern wall linked arms to steady themselves as they  laughed. Inane laughter resounded through the cavern. It was nearly loud  enough to drown out the furious pounding of Jeannette’s laboured  heart.

Not even the plants were spared. A growth frenzy spread through the  first floor of the dungeon radiating from the third chamber. Grasses  shot upwards, growing till their weak spines and stems collapsed under  their own weight. Being relatively simple organisms, they did not  display as many varied behaviours. What they did do was twist themselves  into deranged shapes and fill the air with flowers and pollen.

Slowly, but surely, the introductory floor of Brandr’s dungeon was  being distorted. This distortion spread in waves from the third chamber  or more specifically, one individual within it, Duke Galronde, an  Archfae of the Summer Court. The Lord of Passion, Ecstasy and Delirium.

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Thorn groaned, fighting to keep his knees and mind from buckling  under the pressure of the Faelord’s aura. He held on, not under his own  power but through his connection to the dungeon core. No matter how the  Archfae assailed him, Brandr’s power kept most of his influence at bay.  Nevertheless, that left the poor dungeon knight caught between a rock  and a hard place. On one end was the Faelord of Delirium, a being who  had ascended to power in the Age of Heroes. His every presence demanded  obedience from all lesser fae. On the other end was Brandr, the Dungeon  God, the will of his home and the being to whom he had pledged his  allegiance. Right now, the dungeon core held the upper hand but Thorn  know just how tenuous that lead was.

One by one, the fae that accompanied him crumbled. Flix and  Proudsprout were taken at nearly the same time, kneeling with  conflicting expressions of joyful awe while tears of unworthiness  streamed down their cheeks. Together, they gazed at Duke Galronde in  blissful rapture. Nettle held on the longest but after mere minutes, he  too succumbed, only possessing the wits to knock himself out before he  embarrassed himself. Soon, only the dungeon knight was left holding out  against the fae lord’s attempt to dominate them.

By all accounts, Brandr should hold the upper hand. This was the seat  of his power. These were his people. Yet, the insidiousness and  multifaceted nature of Duke Galronde’s power made it shockingly  effective. First, it hit the body like a drug, inflaming lusts and  desires. Second, it overwhelmed the senses. Suddenly, it was too hot or  too cold or both at the same time. The feel of your own sweat made you  feel like you were swimming, then drowning. Everything was too loud or  too quiet. The shapes and dimensions of the world no longer made sense.  Your surroundings began to change into a twisted faerie land. All the  while, it whispered to you.

GIVE IN!

Embrace Rapture!

The madness awaits!

Thorn could feel it working deep in his subconscious, scratching away  at his mind and will. It didn’t beat down his walls, it wormed its way  in. It didn’t break the locks, it asked him sweetly to open the doors  and let it in and despite everything he knew telling him not to, Thorn  was tempted to obey. If not for how precarious his situation was, Thorn  would have laughed at its sheer ridiculousness. He knew full well that  letting Duke Galronde into his mind would be inviting a very real chance  of madness. It literally told him so and yet, the pleasures it  promised… the bliss… the ecstasy.

When was the last time you were truly happy, Thorn Clearwing?

Visions of joyful days as a young sprite filled his head. His first  adventure outside his original commune. The world had seemed so bright  and new then.

It could be that way again.

All these years of drum servitude to your people. You haven’t lived in centuries, Thorn.

Don’t you want to feel alive? Don’t you deserve happiness?

Ask yourself this, where would you be happier… under the dungeon  core’s boot or at the feet of a bonafide Archfae? A fae lord who could  make you feel pleasure so great it would break your mind.

Imagine that Thorn!

Endless pleasure! Endless Bliss! Ecstasy, forever!

No more responsibilities. No more danger. No more worries or sorrow!

Embrace Rapture, Thorn!

Then, there were the thoughts that weren’t his own. They rang in his  head with his voice but the dungeon knight knew, with some help from his  master, that they were not his.

Duke Galronde is my friend. He is my liege for goodness sake. Why  am I just standing here? This is beyond rude! I should be showing him  around right now instead of fighting him. What if he gets mad? Wouldn’t  it be better to give in?

This was why Brandr’s power proved so ineffective. The dungeon core  could put as many obstacles in the way as he wanted. He could bar access  to the minds of his creatures but what good did that do against a foe  that they purposefully let in? The dungeon could shield Thorn’s body but  not his mind– not from this. For that, the former sprite had to rely on  himself. This was easier said than done. ‘To think is to imagine. To  imagine is to dream.’ The archfae’s powers seemed to disproportionately  affect thinking entities. That combined with his authority over lesser  fae made sure that ignoring those whispers was one of the hardest things  the dungeon knight had ever had to do. Somehow, Thorn soldiered on.

By this point, the self-assured smile had fallen off the Faelord’s  face. Instead, he watched Thorn with a sort of intent curiosity that was  frightening to witness. It was the sort of look one might find on a  child tearing the legs off a spider to watch how it would move without  them. Even his entourage had backed off at this point. His aura was that  intense and most of it was focused on the diminutive fae in front of  him. All the happenings outside this chamber were merely side effects.

Finally, the horned fae lord spoke. “Thy son spake highly of thee.  Ere coming hither he recounted to me many tales of thee. Tales of the  hero Thorn clearwing and his dashing deeds. Hither I find upon meeting  thee yond the real thing is much moo impressive than I first hath  believed.”

Coming from an archfae, this was high praise indeed. Everyone present  could tell that he meant it too. Thorn was reminded of the folk tales  that told of the archfae’s might, of the armies he had driven mad before  him in the Age of Heroes. At once, new thoughts came upon him, driven  by the mad whispers of the Faerie Duke’s powers.

He can’t possibly be resisted.

Kings and Heroes have fallen before him.

You’ve done so well already.

Your master can’t blame you. NO ONE would blame you.

Aren’t you tired?

Why fight when it would be so much easier to give in?

You know you can’t win. Why not give in sooner and save yourself the effort?

It will feel so good to give in.

JUST GIVE IN!

WELCOME ECSTASY!

EMBRACE THE MADNESS!

Thorn shut his eyes and his ears to the fae lord. His sweaty brow  furrowed in concentration as he hastened to beat the entreaties away  from his mind.

“Truly, truly impressive”, Duke Galronde announced appraisingly.

“Indeed!” Came a voice from behind him. “He is.”