Disclaimer: I've said it before and I'll say it again. I DON'T OWN.
AN: I have a poll on my profile as to which fic I should focus on when I finish Swordmaster. Feel free to vote.
"Seize her!" Phobos yelled angrily, pointing at Taranee, a fierce look in his eyes. "She has touched the royal personage far beyond her station and is no doubt in league with the assassin!"
"Brother, this girl has just saved my life. Do you really think that she would have done so if she were in league with the assassin?" Elyon asked with an equally fierce look in hers. "Would you be so foolish as to arrest my rescuer? Would you make a mockery of the fairness of the Elven justice system and undermine the divine right of the elvish monarchy?" she paused and turned to face Taranee, her face taking a calmer, friendlier expression. "I thank you for saving my life young drow and I will happily grant you your freedom."
"I'm not a slave!" Taranee hissed angrily, before storming out of the hall. On the way, she almost collided with Cornelia who was going the other way.
"I heard the commotion. What happened out there?" Cornelia asked in a condescending voice. "Did you lose your temper and kill one of the serving staff?"
"I'm not some savage!" Taranee hissed. "Unlike you elves with your assassins and double-dealings and your ridiculous accusations. I am not a fool or a violent savage who can only respond with mob justice and heavy-handedness." Taranee paused for a moment to nod her head towards Prince Phobos. "Although with idiots like him as your future ruler, I shouldn't be surprised that the elvish court is filled with bimbos like you."
"I am no bimbo!" Cornelia snapped angrily and for a moment Taranee could have sworn that Cornelia's eyes changed colour from icy blue to a blank white, but if they did change, it was only for a second. "And I would prefer you not to talk about my fiancé like that!"
"Your fiancé?" Taranee asked in shock and Cornelia sniffed.
"Yes, my fiancé. Our two families arranged our match when we were children," Cornelia said with a sniff. "So if you'll excuse me, I must return to the meal."
Taranee continued walking away, her anger stopping her from thinking of anything other than how much she wanted to punch that arrogant prince and his pretty little fiancé with her pretty little nose. In her opinion, there had never been a better match between two people. Both were selfish and stupid and bigoted and nasty. Reaching the dojo, she pulled out her training blades and began a simple kata. She was so wrapped up in her anger that she failed to hear a knock on the door.
"Hello? Can I come in?" a girl's voice asked, although she couldn't tell whom. "I need to talk to you."
"Come in!" she shouted back and the door creaked ever so slightly open and with all the presence and authority of a mouse, Princess Elyon slipped into the dojo. Taranee was so stunned by the completely different attitude shown that her brain refused to believe that this was the same girl she'd saved earlier.
"I wanted to apologise for what I said earlier. It was…" she paused as she fumbled around for the right word. "Wrong." She finally said, as she looked Taranee in the eye. "It was wrong and I shouldn't have said it." Taranee raised an eyebrow and Elyon continued. "The only drow I've ever seen before today have been slaves of one kind or another, mostly from the war."
"Aren't you worried that this big bad drow is going to try killing you too?" Taranee asked sardonically and Elyon chuckled.
"I think that if you wanted me to die, you would have just let me be killed as I ate," Elyon pointed out, before extending her hand. "Besides, there has been too much hatred and war between our two people."
Taranee was stunned. To encounter a wood elf who didn't hate the drow on principle was rare, but to hear this coming from the mouth of a member of the elf royalty was as unexpected as seeing a flying pig.
"Thank you again," Elyon said, before turning to leave. "Just remember, we're not all so viciously anti-drow."
"Yes, I see," Taranee, said in a slightly dazed voice.
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Miranda tapped her foot impatiently as she read the reports about the Formorian activity on the borders of drow territory. The formorian's actions would make the council even less likely to agree to a conflict to retake the Eryn mines. There was little point in waging a war to retake lost territory, if the lands at home were threatened. Perhaps new allies could be found, or at least another enemy of the dwarves, giving the drow the opportunity to retake the mines with minimal effort, could distract the dwarves.
Sitting down, Miranda began to mentally list all of the underdark species that might be persuaded to join in such an endeavour or at least could be tricked into going to war with the dwarves.
Firstly were the formorian's of course. Their aggressive approach to other underdark species and a desire to regain their former glories meant that there was little doubt that they might easily take the opportunity to attempt to take dwarven territory if they thought they could. Miranda quickly dismissed the idea. The formorian's might be expansionist, but if they could take the dwarf mines, then they would move on to drow territory and the rest of the underdark. Besides which, if there was even a hint of drow involvement with the formorian's, then the rest of the underdark would no longer trust the drow and that would scuttle any plans Miranda had.
Then there was the illithids. The mind-flayers were notoriously slow to come to a decision on anything and they were still on the fence when it came to joining the Underdark Alliance. Shar only knew how long it would take to persuade them to actually agree to be the aggressors in a conflict.
There were the aboleth who were strict isolationists. It was doubtful if they could field much of a fighting force on land anyway and the azer who were cut off by the ocean. Miranda's face soured as she continued mentally listing the species that she could recruit from the underdark.
The dark ones had recently joined in a strictly defensive alliance with the drow, but the treaty was strictly defensive, they couldn't rely on them to join a war of aggression, even to retake lost territory.
The marilith always welcomed the opportunity to fight. As a strongly martial people, they relished the chance to fight, but there were only a handful of them in the whole underdark. During the war they had amounted to a single regiment, barely worth noting. The beetle-like mezzoloth were little better, they too fielded a mere handful of available warriors and unlike the marilith, they were strictly mercenaries who demanded to be paid and the dwarves could probably hire them to fight against the drow.
Miranda continued angrily tapping the floor, while all around the temple, novices and priestesses alike found reasons to avoid her office. Miranda however didn't notice the absence.
The grimlock, troglodytes and without a king, the kobolds, were divided into many tribes and were so primitive that it would hardly be worth enlisting all of the tribes, even if they could be persuaded to avoid killing one another.
Tap, tap, tap. Miranda's leg continued to tap as she continued counting down her options. The kuo-toa had just finished a bitter civil war only a couple of years ago. There was virtually no chance of them joining any such campaign, while the goblins knew full well that there were easier pickings to expand their empire than the dwarves.
In short, there was no species or people who could help her obtain her goal in the underdark. The only way that the drow would fight such a war would be if…Miranda's eyes suddenly widened and a devious smile appeared on her face. Yes, that way would work. Pulling a travelling cloak onto her shoulders, Miranda walked out of her office and walked up the wall to talk to the head of special operations.
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Hidden in the shadows, a female figure with long hair watched as Princess Elyon crossed the courtyard, flanked by her two bodyguards. Making a killing shot as she passed would be suicidal. Not only would her bodyguards probably stop any shot hitting her, it would also certainly draw the fire of her other protectors and probably result in her death. With a sigh, the figure pulled herself back onto the roof and ran a hand through her hair. She needed to work out another means of killing the girl, but until a new opening presents itself, there is little that she can do. Suddenly a blade flashes in the darkness as another shadowy female figure suddenly catches the first and with a sharp swish, a knife slashed her throat open and with a gurgle, she died.
"You should not have attempted to kill the Princess!" her killer hissed angrily, before disappearing into the night.
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"Is it safe to approach my Lord?" a hissing voice asked Prince Phobos in his quarters and he swiftly cast a spell of none-observance.
"Cedric, your report!" Phobos snapped out and a long figure of a long green yuan-ti emerged from an alcove behind him and on his face was a red mask across his eyes, a mark of dishonour amongst the yuan-ti.
"My Prince, I have found a number of rare texts that refer to the magic that you seek and I believe that I have located seven parts of the spell," Cedric hissed and Phobos smiled.
"Good news indeed. But surely they must be fewer in number than seven parts. Even the most complexed of spells only require five parts at most."
"That is true my Prince," Cedric said with a bow. "But this is a spell of unusual and great power, far more than that of a normal spell."
"Where are these parts of the spell to be found then?" Phobos asked impatiently with a wave of his hand. "I assume they are not easily found."
Cedric nodded. "They are indeed hard to obtain for the ordinary folk, but for us I have no doubt we can obtain them." He paused for a moment. "There is one located in the Royal Library in Meridian, under the protection of at least a dozen magical guardians and several protection spells that I have yet to discover. One is located in the vampiric wastelands of the East, property of the formidable vampire lord Dy'ashra, a powerful foe even by the standards of vampire lords. The aboleth Temple of Many Tides holds yet another piece, however I have discovered that the temple was abandoned some time ago and the aboleth have forgotten the purpose of the spell."
"A clearly negligent mistake. We should have been granted to take charge of all seven pieces from the start," Phobos said angrily.
"I am surprised that the Harpers didn't try to destroy the spell," Cedric admitted and Phobos laughed.
"They lacked the power to perform such a task and the wisdom to use it properly," he said. "Those Harpers were weak fools. The world lay at their feet. They could have built the greatest empire ever known to exist and instead they break the spell up." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "Such a waste."
"I see my Prince," Cedric replied respectfully with his head bowed and Phobos looked at him.
"You said there were seven pieces. Where are the remaining four?" he asked and Cedric bowed his head once more.
"The Medusa Temple on the far side of Vampiric Wastelands hold a part of the spell and it is guarded by an extensive network of defences that remain hidden to the eye and the shadar-kai hold another as a trophy of war and although they don't know the history of the object, they regard it as precious. The Great Library of Candracar has a part of it in the vaults and it is arguably the best defended part of the spell." Cedric paused as he considered how to mention where the next part of the spell was kept.
"And where is the final part Cedric? Tell me where it lies?" Phobos demanded and Cedric's face took on a look of disgust.
"It is held by the drow Temple of Sharess, my Prince," he said and Phobos's face curled up with disgust.
"Drow!? They gave a part of the spell to those vermin!?" he shouted and Cedric nodded.
"Yes my liege. The council agreed unanimously to that," Cedric said with a nod and Phobos spat angrily.
"To separate the spell was bad enough, but to give it to those worthless creatures was a crime of epic proportions!" he hissed as he hit the wall with his fist. "Our degenerate cousins are hardly suitable hosts for a part of such power." He snarled again and spat angrily. "The drow are nothing but a race of schemers and traitors
"Perhaps I should be the one to obtain the objective my Prince?" Cedric suggested with a bow and Phobos shook his head.
"No, there are other plans coming to their conclusion that will require your presence here," Phobos said firmly. "Plans that concern my sister."
"Very well my Prince," Cedric replied with a low hiss.
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"Will, Taranee, have you heard the news yet?" an excited voice practically screeched at them and Taranee winced. There was only one person who that voice could belong to and she was not surprised to see the shocking pink skin of the temple's resident teenage doppelganger, Searra Kento as she bounced into the room.
"What news?" Will asked groggily as she squinted at the vivid colour Searra's face. "And can you please pick a less bright colour this early in the morning?"
A wave crossed Searra's face and her skin changed colour to a deep violet.
"Is that better?" she asked, before continuing anyway. "A body without a face has been found in the monastery!
"A body without a face? Do they know who it is?" Taranee asked as her mind began racing and Searra shook her head.
"No, but I've heard rumours that one of the elves from the Royal Court is missing. Apparently Prince Phobos is ranting to the head of the order about how this place is unsafe for anyone of elvish origin, with doppelganger spies and the like." Searra paused and giggled girlishly and Will let out a low whistle.
"Bet that went down well," Will said in a low voice and Searra giggled again.
"So well that Luba threatened to kill him I hear," she said with a smirk. "Apparently he wants everyone to be subjected to a reveal spell on everyone here." Searra paused and made a face. "I hope they don't. I hate the way reveal spells set my teeth on edge."
"You said one of the elves is missing. Do you know which one?" Taranee asked and Searra nodded.
"Oh yes. It's supposedly Prince Phobos's fiancé, the Lady Cornelia Hale," she replied and Taranee grimaced. This was not going to be easy to defuse.
