Tris was dreaming, or was it a vision? The colors and details of her surroundings were far too vivid for this to be a dream.
She was floating above a dark chapel; mage lights cast the room in hues of rich purple. Somewhere a set of delicate chimes sounded off a couple of notes every now and again. On one end an intricately carved statue of a half elven half spider monstrosity with a delicately beautiful female face stood facing a congregation of robed figures. Tris couldn't see their faces but she guessed them to be drow by the chamber's decor.
At the head of the crowd, kneeling at the altar was a female form, robed in a delicate web-like ceremonial cloak. Her silk white mane was adorned by an eight-pronged crown. As the priestess tilted her head back to offer a prayer to the spider-like idol on the altar, Tris could spy a brilliant oval sapphire gracing the center of her crown, bringing the eight prongs together in the form of another spider.
When the chanting stopped, eight drow males formed a circle in the center of the room and began chanting and moving their arms about in what appeared to be the start of a spell. Lights flared up around their delicate elven hands and engulfed them, then a single ray of light left each of them to connect at the center of the circle they formed just above a large round piece of polished obsidian stone.
Suddenly, Tris felt a tugging at her core and she saw that she was being pulled towards this obsidian mirror and for a moment she felt frightened. Did they know that she was here, that she unwittingly spied on whatever drow ritual they were performing and now they caught her? She tried to protest but felt no sound leaving her throat, and then she realized how absurd her logic was and decided that this was most likely a dream.
The priestess was eye level with her now and as she approached Tris to get a better look at her, Tris saw that she was truly beautiful. Her face was finely sculptured, her eyes glowed red like two flawless rubies and were framed by delicate white brows, her nose was thin and haughty. Her lips, bow shaped, curled into a cruel sneer. As she stalked closer, Tris saw that hidden underneath the gossamer robe was a shapely feminine figure, the priestess wore an outfit that left little to the imagination. At her hip rested a cruel eight headed whip, each strand writhing lazily about and as Tris focused to get a better look she saw that each head was a living viper.
The priestess stopped short outside the obsidian circle, "What? A surfacer female? Your spells are becoming faulty mage!" The drow spoke in a halting foreign language, but Tris understood her clear as day.
"I assure you Valsharess, my scrying spells have never failed you, this is the human your infernal servant spoke of." She heard a nervous male voice off to the side and assumed it belonged to the mage in question. "With the allies you have gathered, Valsharess, I am confident that his human has no chance of stopping you."
Tris understood now that this was neither a dream nor a vision, this was a scrying attempt and apparently she was witness to it. She didn't know what arcane trickery allowed her to look in on her observers like this but she knew it was significant.
"Enough wizard! I tire of your groveling adulations!" She spoke an arcane power word and pointed her finger at the mage. The mage managed to let out a short yelp before he was engulfed in flames, a moment later his lifeless body dropped in a smoldering heap to the floor.
"You there, male," she pointed at another of her servants, "gather this useless pile of excrement and feed it to the driders."
She then turned her attention back to Tris. "No one has the power to stop me, not even this scrawny human." She said as a wicked smile spread across her face. "Summon the Red Sisters, I shall have this one killed before she has a chance. Her sacrifice shall please Lolth greatly."
As the priestess said her last words she began to fade from view as everything else in Tris's field of vision. Eventually Tris found herself enveloped in complete darkness with nothing but the persistent whisper of the chimes keeping her company. She suddenly realized that it was her sixth sense telling her that she was in a presence of an immortal, a being from another plane. Master Drogan once explained it to her that it was her senses picking up the energy that emanated from such beings. He said that everyone's sense was different: for Master Drogan everything became enveloped in a thin halo of light when he was in their presence, Tris heard a set of chimes as if their energies were a breeze blowing against her inner sense. It was the same set of chimes she always heard when she was in the presence of the Reaper.
"Hello?" She called out, "Who's out there?" She turned in all directions in the void trying to locate the presence and when the chimes tinkled louder she decided that was the direction she needed to face. She saw a thin outline of a tall figure and strained her eyes to discern more, she started in the direction to meet the manifestation but suddenly stopped as she saw the figure stir and move towards her.
The first thing she saw was a pair of serpentine eyes looking back at her. They were two carmine pupils framed by crimson irises set in corneas so white that they appeared almost blue, giving them an unsettling look. A moment later a face emerged from the darkness, its features handsome yet diabolical as the skin was completely scarlet, and black scales framed its temples and forehead, dark lips comfortably rested in a lazy scowl. As the face stalked closer to her she could gradually discern the rest of the physique that emerged into her field of vision. His head was crowned by two massive horns that curved upwards and he wore his black mane luxuriously long. Powerful muscles lined his bare torso and arms and he carried with him a three-pronged ranceur. He wore a wide girdle on his waist, artfully etched in intricate runic designs and beset with priceless jewels, and a long leather skirt that allowed for a wide stride. A pair of black massive leather wings trailed behind him. His visage reminded Tris of the Reaper, the inhabitant of the relic that was bound to her, though the sight of this one was far more menacing.
"Did the Reaper send you?" She asked. His black lips curled into a knowing smile revealing pearly white teeth, though he didn't answer. Instead he reached out with his hand and gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She could see that his fingernails were black and long and talon-like and as he brushed his hand against her cheek she could feel immense and baleful power rolling off his fingertips. The chords of the chimes rang discordant within her being. She winced at the gesture though she didn't lift her gaze from his.
He bent closer now and she could feel his breath on her on her cheek and it sent a shiver down her spine, for a moment she thought she smelled brimstone. "Time to wake up Tristin," he whispered in a baritone voice that was deeply powerful and incredibly alluring, "you have a visitor."
"Who are you?" She asked once more, but he was gone and so was the chiming.
Tristin snapped open her eyes. She found herself staring at the ceiling of her room at The Yawning Portal, she was drenched in sweat. She didn't know what hour it was but the faint moonlight outside her window told her that it was still night. Her ranger senses told her that she was not alone. She heard a hushed whispering in recital of some spell, and then felt a faint presence of magic as the arcane words were discharged followed by a barely audible pop of the spell's completion.
She sensed the intruder creep closer to her bedside and knew she was in danger. She felt for the hunting knife she placed under her pillow and firmly gripped its handle. She closed her eyes not wanting the intruder to know that she was awake, leaving a slit open so she could see in how much danger she really was.
She finally saw a slender silhouette stand by her headboard, it raised its arms above the head both hands gripping an object. Tris saw the glint of steel just before a sharp dagger descended on her, she rolled out of the dagger's path just in time as it harmlessly struck into the mattress. The attacker knew that that the element of stealth was gone. Tris didn't waste any time and used the moment that the assassin hesitated, took one of her pillows and threw it at the attacker buying her time to run to her locker to retrieve her sword. To her dismay she found the chest missing and knew then that the earlier spell must have spirited her equipment away, leaving her practically defenseless. No matter, she still gripped the hunting knife and considered it better odds than having to face her attacker bare-handed. She whipped around and found the assassin barreling towards her with the dagger in front, aimed for her gut.
She pirouetted out of the way just as the assassin reached her and elbowed the attacker in the back of the head. The assassin stumbled but regained composure quickly and spun around to face her now; they both circled each other like two predators ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Tris locked her eyes with the attacker and saw two glowing red orbs behind the mask, a distinct characteristic of the drow.
The attacker lunged again to test her reflexes but Tris was able to deflect the attack with an easy parry. The attacker then came at her again in a series of short lunges with the purpose of keeping her on her heels. Tris had to admit to herself that the tactic was working because it kept her on the defensive and she was hard pressed to find an opening.
Struggling to keep the assassin at bay Tris didn't notice how dangerously close she was to the foot of the bed, her next step connected the back of her knees with the foot-board and she faltered onto the mattress. The assassin lunged then with full force with the intent to pin her down, but Tris was quick to react. She brought her knees up to her chest and kicked out with all her strength and it sent the assassin flying across the room.
The assassin crashed into the dresser on the other side of the room. The mirror that hung above it shuddered and slid off its hook, connecting with the dresser and tumbling down in a loud crash to the floor. Tris didn't lose her moment, she rushed at her attacker, but the drow again was quick to recover. The drow rushed back at Tris and they locked each other in a wrestling embrace, each holding the other's weapon hand in a tight grip. The assassin then surprised Tris and tripped her foot, she came crashing down on the floor and found herself pinned by the assassin's body. She wasn't about to give up and pulled one of her own tricks - she yanked her weapon hand to herself making the drow lurch to the side and she used the momentum to roll on top of the assassin.
She brought her head down to connect squarely with the drow's masked face and heard the distinct crunch of a breaking nose, she sincerely hoped that it wasn't her own as the move gave her a great deal of pain and for a moment she thought she saw stars in her vision. She didn't break her concentration though as she wished to end this fight quickly now. She saw that her attacker was stunned from the blow and she used this moment to bring her blade across the drow's throat and in one swift motion extinguish the assassin's life.
She pulled the mask free off the drow to find herself looking at a feminine face contorted in a dying grimace. The drow's eyes finally rolled to the top of her head as she chocked on the last of her breath and her body went limp under Tris.
The door to her room swung open and Tris saw Tamsil rush into the room "Are you all right miss? I woke up when I heard a commotion..." The girl stopped short in her tracks at the scene in front of her "Oh my!" Was all she could utter.
Tris gingerly felt at her nose, still reeling from the earlier impact and was satisfied that even though it was bleeding the bone was still intact; she wiped the blood off with the back of her hand and looked at Tamsil "I'm alive, though I didn't order the drow. Go wake your father girl; he'll need to know what happened."
Tamsil silently nodded, obviously unnerved by the scene of the dead drow and the pool of blood that was now spreading out onto the floor boards. She turned on her heel and ran out of the room to rouse her father.