A Mixed Meeting - Prologue

Drovus Arden sat with his "captive" by the fire, his anguish caused by recent events had finally retreated like the ebbing of a tide; the warm flickering of the orange-red flames kept the nights chill away. "You don't talk much do you Ke...Kell...Kellandura...?" he finally managed to remember his odd companions name. The charcoal colored Drow only stared at him with her dead black eyes, similar to the color of coal. "Ah, a touchy topic then. Well either way we are in quite a predicament with my master lost in the Astral Plane, you under Terdal's controlling spell, and me... well me being cast out of Turnsdell and now Luskan; really what shall we do?" This time the wizards apprentice spoke more to himself than the dark elf knowing that the underdark denizen would willingly gut him if she got the chance. Drovus was still fretting about the diminishing amount of travel rations they had left and how long his fellow students spell would hold Kellandura when his mind once again drifted back to the unfortunate event that had happened only a few weeks earlier.

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"Get up you slob!" Drovus was slapped firmly on the face by one of his pupils, Goridon, "the tower is under attack and Sacour is still in his trance!" The young Drovus shook himself awake, reaching for his staff, still bearly understanding the dire consequences of which Goridon spoke of. Goridon yelled at him to hurry and then ran out of the room likely continuing his alarm clock exercise on other sleepy students. Drovus being a fourth year student of the arcane, a powerful title in the small town of Turnsdell, threw his high ranking red robe on over his undergarments and grabbed a matching, comical-looking red pointed hat. His gear (although akward) afforded him quite a bit of respect in the local area. Tying back his midlength, brown hair he splashed some water on his face from a bowl. Drovus's dark green eyes blinked as the water dripped off his handsome, young face. "Now I'm ready Goridon" he muttered to himself and set off down the normally quiet hallway which was now filled with the sounds of hazardous explosions and screams of pain and fury. Drovus, ever the absent-minded student and a lover of peaceful times immediately grew worried by the battle cries arrupting out of thin air. He heard a "whoosh" and ducked as a professionally shot bolt flew through a window to his right. Drovus scrammbled up from his prone position and sprinted up the upcomming set of circular stairs (all were circular due to being in a wizards tower...) and headed for his Master Sacour's room.

Sacour was a survivor, not due to bravery, but by acts of cowardice and through his crystal globe he had seen the raiding party of Drow emerge from the shadows and begin their stealthy raid on the town of Turnsdell. Turnsdell was aptly named after its location, located in a wooded hollow along a bend of the River Mirar. Having spent several decades in the Hosttower of Luskan, Sacour knew how an effective city watch dealt with a problem, he also knew that there was no such watch in Turnsdell and quickly began casting a spell that would let him retreat into the Astral Plane. Sacour had not the magical capacity to bring his students with him and when he heard pounding on his bolted door he stopped his frantic chanting to yell, "you best fend for yourself I am off to the Astral Plane". "You can't leave us!" Drovus cried fully realizing the danger of the situation he was present in. "Oh but I can and will Drovus, sorry my very young apprentice" Sacour replied. He would mourn over the deaths of his students, especially Drovus, whom he grudgingly admired, the akward urchin he had dragged off the streets was now a young man and one of his finest students, but Sacour was never a man to tarry and continued his relentless chanting.

The cries from downstairs became more desperate and "Drow... a group of them!" was called from somewhere below. The young mage pounded on his masters door until his work-trained hands bled and he gasped out his frustration; tears of abandonment gleamed in his eyes. "No, not this time" Drovus panted, "I'm grown up and a Wizard, I can take care of myself now!". He took another breath to steady his body retrieving his fallen staff he turned and strode down the stairs bravely. Ready for anything.

Screams echoed in the cylindrical structure and Drovus saw to his right a breached door leading into a chamber. He heard a shout from this room and now determined, Drovus entered the room gripping his weapon firmly. His staff felt little more than a childs plaything as he entered the room to see a fully black-clad Drow warrior finish off a second student, it's sword crimson with blood. The final remaining student, Terdal, ducked as the dark elf's sword rushed overhead, barely missing. Steeling himself, Drovus felt the call of magic rush through his blood as he began vocalizing the archaic casting words to a powerful magic projectile. The room flared violet as his three deadly messenger orbs flared, spiralling through the room towards his unexpecting victim. The stunned Drow acted upon reflex, dropping to avoid the first, the second defltecting off of its battle trained, magic crafted armor, and the third crashing haphazardly into the chambers ceiling. The smug Drow instantly regained its veteran feet and began stalking toward Drovus, Drovus cringed raising his useless staff in defence. The Drow cackled evily saying something in it's violent Underdark language and then lunged towards it's latest victim, Drovus, with it's sword pointed at the young mage's heart. Unfortunately for the dark elf the third missile had found its mark and a load of rubble and mortar fell from the ceiling crushing the frail drow beneath its one tonne might.

"Nice shot!" panted the attractive female mage, Terdal, whom Drovus had just saved. "Thanks," grinned Drovus, "are you injured?" he asked with concern. "Nothing but fear ailes me" she replied, "come on lets help the others." Half way down the next set of curved stairs Terdal asked "have you seen Sacour?". "Yeah, the slime retreated to another plane." Drovus replied shaking his head. "Slime," agreed Terdal in disgust. The two wizards turned the bend to see another group of student working together to magically fry another Drow elf. They succeeded just before Drovus and Terdal arrived, the overcome Drow was blasted in the middle and tossed litterally flaming out of a high tower window, the only thing left was a smoking pair of boots. After a quick conversation with the new, ragtag party of students, the duo learned that the Drow had been a surface raiding party and now, overcome by sheer numbers and the breaking of dawn were retreating. Splitting up from the group, Drovus and Terdal continued down another flight of stairs, nearing the ground level the damage became more apparent, the Drow had battled furiously and the casualties were far worse for the town of Turnsdell. Mutilated bodies were strewn everywhere and when the two reached the ground level and exited the tower the air was heavy with black, billowing smoke from the smouldering town. "Hurry, mount up. Lets see if we can meet up with any townfolk and gain some more insight" Terdal motioned towards the stables just below the east side of the tower.

As soon as the two unaware wizards began to trot out the stable doors on their new mounts a pair of drow jumped stealthily out of the shadows, with full intention to grab these mounts and use them for their own escape they had bow and blade already drawn. Terdal's mount spooked and reered up, the surprised fifth and final year mage, cast a powerful spell of domination directed to calm her frightened mount right as she was blasted in the chest by one of the Drows black-shafted arrows. Her spell misdirected by her sudden, instantaneous death shot at the second Drow, a sterdy looking female, black as night, who instantly dropped her weapon and stood completely still, slack jawed. Her companion made their last mistake turning to gasp in awe at her partners strange behaviour. "No" screamed Drovus anger overcoming him, adrenaline rushed through his weary body as he pushed out with all his force sending the bow-weilding Drow flying into the ground with a magical blast. Drovus scrammbled off his horse and huddled by his friend, whose body was already beginning to lose the heat of life.

The mage cried for his lost friend, for all the tragedy that had befallen his peaceful world that night, for the townsfolk and for his second abandonment. He sobbed late into the morning and finally overcome, collapsed in the mud, darkness overtaking him. The sounds of battle eventually dimmed around the town, then shut off to allow for the quiet of mourning.

Drovus awoke later that afteroon, his grief still strong in him but for the first time he noticed the slack jawed Drow warrior standing wearily beside him. To his left he saw the other Drow completely crushed into the ground by his powerful magic blast. Rolling over to regain his feet, recognition hit home as he saw Terdal's spell effect on the Drow. He examined her muscular, wiry black body with attempted "sheer" hatred. However, this didn't work, he was angery and sorrow filled yet he felt no hate for this Drow, only interest and awe at such an awesome fighting force. With further amazement he noticed her dark, souless eyes and bone white hair. Right off the bat he had recognized something weird with the spell cast on the Drow it was incomplete, Terdal must had been in midcast when she was slain, he decided to finish the spell. To his surprise the magical tear was mended and the power of the spell was now his, the Drow now his prisoner. "Follow me," he ordered gruffly and she did. Drovus gawked back as his new companion followed him aimlessly through town. He was still undecided with what to do to her when he noticed his silent stalkers; eyes, full of sorrow peering out from every crack of every broken building. Suddenly the tired mage was surrounded by an angry mob.

"Look that mage has a Drow with him!" a fat old farmer yelled to the crowd, stirring their still fresh hatred. "It's not what it se--" "Get 'em, he must 'ave helped the Drow into town" an old, scarcely toothed hag yelled, interupting Drovus's explanation. Realizing he could not reason with this agry mob he turned to the Drow and yelled run. Even without the spell the Drow would have obliged, seeing the large, crazy mob sporting mottled weaponry, few wouldn't have. The two turned, pushing their way through the wearied crowd before the group got a chance to act. "After them" yelled a man near the back of the group, and so the chase began.

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The pair had been chased for a week on the road West to Luskan, before the mob turned back, now set on rebuilding their devastated homes. Drovus and the Drow were chased out of Luskan in a similar fashion by a group of fearsome guards wielding spears; this was of course due to Drovus's infamous friend. The party of two headed south on foot towards Neverwinter, and past that, to Waterdeep. Drovus had retired from the idea of abandoning his stupified companion, how could he ever do what was done to him to a helpless "someone else". Besides he was now growing to admire his silent, resilient companion for her constant radiance of strength and determination which was hardly dimmed by the commanding spell. A few days after Luskan the sun-weakened Drow began to lose her dark magic-crafted clothing and armor to the solar power overhead. Like all Drow equipment, which is not meant for long stays aboveground, the power of her armor decayed rapidly. The Drow who barely noticed through her spell caused stupor, continued walking. Her lack of knowledge towards covering her near naked appearance only more embarassed Drovus who could not peel his eyes off her perfectly crafted, ebony body. He quickly shook his head, snapping himself back into reality and ripped off his red robe, telling her to put it on. She obliged to her accidental "masters" whim and also pulled the hood up over her head to cover her eyes. Later that day he asked her name and she replied in rough common "Kellandura". The strikingly exotic name surprised him as much as her ability to speak his surface language Common.

What a sight they must have been a young man, stating himself a prestigious mage of Turnsdell walking in his undergarments donning a comical red pointed hat, striding next to one of the most feared denizens in Faerun, who was now heavily cloaked and pitiful. The two travelled this way for several days finally coming upon their latest camp ground. This is where the real story begins.

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Drovus's mind found it's containing body and flung itself back into his head, he noticed that Kellandura had fallen asleep without him needing to command her, he shivered realizing the spell was weakening. Huddling down, he pulled some leaves over himself, covering his cold body, luckily for him it was summer.

Drovus awakened to a painful itch on his neck. A cool blade rested against his jugular and glancing over to his companion he realized she was in a similar position (although she probably didn't even know what was going on). "Lookie here Took, I found a handsome young lad in his undies" said his captor, a beautiful young woman, with short blond hair and a second blade in a scabbard, a long oak bow hung across here back next to a fully decked out quiver, her striking blue eyes pierced his own green ones. To his right a short dwarf, wearing full plate armor held a hefty axe over Kellandura's neck he grinned, "Lor' me thinks this be a Drow from the underdark!". "Well isn't this a mixed meeting?" replied the dwarf's human companion.

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Hey everyone, this is my first story on the site and I hope everyone who reads it has something creative to say. I don't mind helpful criticism, but useless insults about something isn't going to make me do anything progressive in changing the story. Now, this is merely the prologue and I hope to write more soon, so that the characters will unfold as well as the story. Please get some reviews up soon so I can see what needs working on.

With many thanks,

-the Author

P.S. Sorry if their are ty&pos or Mispeeld words, I am using wordpad which doesn't edit for me (alas my word is not working currently) but am trying as hard as possible to make this story legible. Thanks again.

Rights to The Forgotten Realms and Dungeons and Dragons are owned by Wizards of The Coast and I only use this exciting fantasy world created by the aforementioned company to set my own story and characters in.