My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 192 Fleeing The Bedchamber Part 3

She took a step that direction, and then hesitated. She didn't know what to expect down below, but it was a certainty that she'd have to pa.s.s through the gnolls before she made it to anyone who might be more friendly. Perhaps it might be best if she disguised herself as one of the furbags, if for no other reason than to avoid drawing attention on her way. One thing she was sure of, at least, was that no one was immediately on the way to check on her. That meant she had more time to prepare.

Eleanor ducked back inside the bedchamber, and set about gathering anything that would be of use to her in the coming encounters she was likely to have. In addition to the components she'd taken from Jaang'faz's necklace, she quickly scanned the shelves and racks of alchemical and arcane supplies, grabbing whatever she thought might be of use. To her surprise, there were components she'd not seen since her time at the Academy in some of the bottles, including treant sap, manticore blood, and shade ashes. The rarest she took on principle, grabbing a small satchel from the chest at the foot of the bed and throwing everything inside. She then set about tearing through the bookshelf, where she found several useful arcane scrolls, as well as a couple spellbooks. She swept the lot into the satchel. Finally, she bent down to one of the pelts on the ground and inspected it. Once she was closer, there was no doubting that the pelts were gnoll pelts, perhaps of those who had made a point of opposing him. She had to hand it to Rawg'faz… making a point of decorating with and walking on the skin of his enemies had to be very effective at keeping the rest in line.

She reached out to pull a tuft of fur from one of them, and stopped short when something struck her. Something about them seemed familiar, although she couldn't place why. As she looked at them further, both of the pelts looked pretty small, by gnoll standards. And then she saw a spot of fur on the smaller of the two pelts, near what would probably have been the shoulder of its previous owner. There, plain as day, was a dark patch in the distinct shape of a crescent moon, identical to the crescent shape of the earrings she was carrying. And it was in that moment Eleanor knew why something about them seemed familiar. She was looking at the pelts of Marg'faz and Jaang'faz.

Eleanor reeled back in horror, nearly falling over herself into the door behind her. She grasped onto the door latch to steady herself, the sense of rage that she'd thus far tamped down frothing over into a seething fury.

She may not have known them in person, in real life, but real or not, she owed each of them a debt. While Rawg'faz may not have known it, having them in the deception to help her had given her just enough support and connection, just enough hope, and just enough resolve to make it through thus far. Without them, if she was honest, she would have despaired a long time ago.

She didn't know what she'd expected, but seeing them disrespected and degraded in such a brazen manner was unconscionably evil, even for a creature as sick and twisted as Rawg'faz had shown himself to be. She let go of the door latch, leaving a crushed handprint in the metal, and bent down, plucking a tuft of hair from Marg'faz's skin.

"I'm sorry, dear friend. Thank you, for everything."

With a flourish and a flash the Polymorph spell took effect, enlongating and distorting her body and face until she found herself wearing the skin of a gnoll for what felt like one too many times. Glancing at her shoulder, she saw the distinctive dark crescent on her shoulder. Something about that gave her hope, and steeled her resolve. She wasn't just doing this for herself. She was doing this to make their deaths mean something more. And what could be more meaningful that by bearing their emblems, items, and appearance into battle against the monster who'd tried to destroy them all.

Now that she was wrapped in mottled fur and had grown a bit, she adjusted the clothes she was wearing. They were still baggy, but no longer threatened to drown her in fabric or tumble off her at the slightest movement, belt and knots non-withstanding. Once he was prepared, she pulled a red gla.s.s bead out of her components pouch, stepped out into the hallway again, and turned towards the open bedchamber. Rawg'faz would not disrespect another in this room again, living or dead. That much, at least, she could make sure of. With a flurry of sigils and a snarl of deviltongue the bead flared to life in a sphere of crackling sky-blue fire before she hurled the fireball into the middle of the room. The bedchamber exploded in a cacophony of noise and light and hurled fragments of wood and stone in a jet out of the doorway. Almost non-chalantly, she made a barrier sign with her off hand, causing the debris to slam to a stop against and invisible wall a foot or so in front of her.

Satisfied that the room was now thoroughly a crater, she set off down the corridor, giving one final glance behind her before she turned down the descending slope and out of sight of where she'd just been.