The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[NPCs]

"Rightly so," Feythal says firmly, eyes glinting. "Our culture embraces pain as pleasure and release, and we have no laws for gentle admonishment like may of the soft surface races do, but there is a line. And the penalty for crossing that line is very dear."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Pain is all well and good when it is called for, in play or in punishment. But not torture. Nor rape. I will of course submit to my wife if it is called for, but I will not submit to strangers on a whim, nor have my husbands used against me."

[NPCs]

Feythal's eyes narrow. "Did Varisia use you as... barter?" she asks, voice empty and overly precise, a sudden shift that drives home how more living she had been acting until just this moment.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"No," says Noire, her voice chilled. "But when she was done with me, she used me as a reward for her guards. Males, not even husbands. Lesser males with no mates of their own."

[NPCs]

"I see."

Feythal is silent a moment, then carefully chews and swallows the red orb she'd selected. "What are your sexual inclinations? I will freely admit I rarely care about such when making a political motivated match, assuming that they will see to their needs should they prove motivated enough by the need to do so. But this is... that rarity."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"You won't have trouble with me. I am primarily attracted to women, but willing to engage with men. I prefer to top but realistically am used to bottoming, to pain, to degradation."

[NPCs]

"Only drow? Or are you interested in other races?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Drow are, of course, superior, but my other husbands were of inferior races, and we got along as well."

[NPCs]

"Good," Feythal murmurs. "If you are amenable to gnomish bodies and culture, that expands options nicely."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"I will admit, gnomes are an odd choice of ally. It seems to be working well, but not what I would have predicted. Still, I have nothing against the race."

[NPCs]

"They were desperate and in a way that I-- we-- could assist with," Feythal says simply, a thin smile forming briefly. "They are naive, prudish, sentimental and too easily distracted by their curiosity, but... yes, it is working well. Thankfully they understand the value of rules and duty, and their own extended family culture adapted easily to that of Familigas. Do you know the history of our Enclave? How it was formed?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Only what Sir Williams wrote in his travelogue."

[NPCs]

With no change in expression, Feythal turns her head and spits. "A fool and a bigot. Two hundred and seventy-one years ago, I came to the surface with my Famigila and my remaining allies. Two hundred and sixty-four years ago, our group decimated by strife and ill luck, we arrived here. An admittedly smarter than typical ogre by the name of Jackbone Thrawn had gathered a horde seven hundred strong of orcs, goblins, hobgoblins and gnolls. He'd made good on his promises of plunder and rapine, but had also drawn the ire of many, among them a few nobles of Nyra and Glaley. He fled into the wilds, to here. At the time, this was more mine than stronghold, with a modest village on the surface that housed the Robijin and Cappos: gnomish miners and artists respectively."

She shakes her head a little. "The Robijin were wiser and luckier; most of them were in the mines, and Thrawn's choir-- his apprentices in orcish magic-- realized that having slave labour and local guides would be useful. The Cappos were killed, most of them eaten. Six survived the first attack and only two still lived by the time we arrived, both later marrying and leaving their names. We slaughtered Thrawn's army, though admittedly with losses, and rescued the Robijin. In exchange for allowing us to not just stay but assume shared leadership, we didn't simply claim the mine for ourselves. Many argued we should, especially Derinas-- crusty old fool, as if zombies and skeletons would be anywhere near sufficient as servants-- but I convinced them that if we were to live on the surface, we needed to gain at least indifference, tolerance, from the major powers around us. Having the Robijin alive to speak well of us and on our behalf..."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"And so you intermarried with them instead. Clever."

[NPCs]

"Indeed. A careful dance of intermarriage, alliance and distance has brought us from near-invaders and hostages to a true, combined village. But the dance must continue, even now."