Chapter III. Making a team
Chama sighed and turned in the incredibly comfortable bed to look at the clock. It was early, but the day was very likely to be long. She sat in her bed, waiting for the dizziness to fade, grimacing at her many wounds that had re-opened during the night. Facing the facts, she was going to be forced to stay in the city a few days. Her body did not take kindly to the treatment she had received throughout Undermountain, not to mention Halaster's geas.
Again, she cursed her female body's weakness, but pushed the rage, humiliation and violence aside. She had strength of mind and determination. It was enough for her to make of her life what she wished. And she did not wish it to be rage, humiliation and violence.
She dressed in the Nathyrra-style clothes again, and then went out of her room. When she reached the temple's main room, overlooked by the Spider Queen's statue, Valen was pacing back and forth, his tail lashing angrily, Deekin was careful to make himself forgotten in the furthest corner, and Nathyrra was practicing her throwing of a dagger on a target.
Here it goes, Chama thought with some nervousness at facing her would-be team.
"Good morning. I see you're up early."
Valen stopped pacing and fixed his intense and unsettling gaze on her as she was coming closer to him and Nathyrra. Deekin hurriedly skittered closer.
"Good morning, Chamaedaphne," Nathyrra greeted, retrieving her dagger. "I guess you came to hear about the Valsharess's army?"
"I guess now would be a good time to begin to know of her, yes. But first, you can call me Chama, you know, it's much shorter and more practical. And I don't care much to bear the name of a flower."
"Have to note that about Boss' name," Deekin muttered. "Where did Deekin puts his pencil?"
Valen raised an irate eyebrow at the kobold, but turned back to the elf. "A chamaedaphne is a flower?"
"That's not one I know," Nathyrra added.
"You don't have to," Chama replied. "It's the elvish name for a remarkably unremarkable flower. It has small greenish white flowers, does not smell particularly nice and does not bear edible fruits. Of course, my mother always tried to make me recall that it will survive in poor conditions, is not demanding for water or sunlight, and is used in many useful folk remedies. But I always stayed stuck with the idea that it's just some ordinary flower."
There was a dark look on her face at the mention of her mother, but she chased it away with a kind smile.
"Anyway, I don't think you need a lesson in surface flowers this morning. I'm here for information. The Valsharess. Her army. What of her allies. What of ours. How long before she moves. Any information on so-called 'dread Mephistopheles'."
Mephistopheles?, Valen thought in surprise, but kept silence. How had she learned the arch-devil's name? Nathyrra too quirked an eyebrow, but answered, "You should see Commander Imloth for information on troop movements, and maybe the Seer if you wish to discuss the arch-devil. I can tell you of the Valsharess's allies."
"Please do. Can I call you Nat? I'm pretty lazy when it comes to names."
"You can call me Nat," the drow smiled. "The allies we know of the Valsharess, besides the powerful drow Houses and duergar servants that she directs and cannot be swayed in so little time, are undead, beholders, and illithids."
"Start with the undead. What kind of undead? Numbers plausibly raised by priestesses, or something graver is to be expected?"
"Something graver, I'm afraid. The undead creatures are mostly zombies, skeletons and mummies."
"Nothing too exotic," Chama said. "Vampires likely to be expected? Liches?"
"As far as we know, nothing of the sort. We are told a cult of necromancers exists, but it is just second-hand rumour. Since we ignore the true source of those undead, we cannot eliminate any possibilities. "
"Sound precaution. Do you have any information as to their origin?"
Nathyrra sighed. "This answer is going to be repetitive, but it is somewhere in the Underdark area adjacent to Lith My'athar, somewhere to the west. We don't know for sure. The same is valid for the two other allies."
"Very well. The beholders?"
Nathyrra explained that the eye tyrant of the closest hive had been recruited by the Valsharess, by unknown means.
"At least," Chama concluded, "if I clean their nest nothing much should come from their hive. I would expect the illithids to be another story though. What do you know of them? How were they convinced into the Valsharess's service?"
"We don't know. We know that the drow queen likely recruited the service of many Overminds… I'm sorry. You seem to know illithids, but maybe not as well as I suppose. Am I getting ahead of myself?"
"No, I know quite well what an Overmind his – in theory at least. I could go and try to negotiate, but mind tyrants will likely ask a high price to remove their promised help from the Valsharess."
Nathyrra nodded, while Valen listened silently. At least, she was not some stupid hot head who would run into a fight without caring to design a battle plan. She was perceptive and carefully appraising about their situation. The tiefling let out an inaudible sigh. He was cynically relieved that his job of protector to the Seer would not include rescuing the army from the stranger's foolish orders.
"So, besides Imloth who can likely give me more pragmatic advice on fighting those creatures," Chama concluded, "you don't have anything else to say than exploring the surrounding caves to the west of Lith My'athar."
Nathyrra smirked. "My spies have already told me this much, Chama."
"I know it's much," the wood elf corrected quickly. "I couldn't have simply guessed this information. I had just hoped for something a bit more specific, but I imagine I'll make a plan as I go. Besides, it's nothing I've never faced before."
"I would advise to visit a few other places also," Valen chimed in.
"Very well. What locations do you have in mind?"
"Recently, I've heard tales of some strange islands nearby. Based on the legends, there may be something on these islands that could help us against the Valsharess."
"Tell me about these islands then. But I thought the river was impossible to cross."
"I will get there," Valen replied. At least she seemed to have a memory, doubly fuzzy or not. He proceeded to explain to her what he had heard of the Isle of the Maker and the town of winged elves.
"Winged elves? Avariel?", she asked.
"I'm not familiar with the term you use for them, but I've heard they are winged elves. They likely appeared there by the magic of a powerful artefact –"
"It would take no less for a town of Avariel to end up in the Underdark."
Valen glared at the interruption and went on, "– that we might use in our fight against the Valsharess."
"But that she's also likely to want for herself."
Valen nodded. "As for crossing the river, we can request the services of Cavallas, the boatman."
The tiefling tried to explain as best he could the strange being that was Cavallas, and the support he lent to the Seer without disclosing his reasons. Chama frowned slightly, but nodded at Valen's explanation. It was late enough in the morning once Valen and Nathyrra were done showing her maps of the surroundings and the four of them had heard the latest reports on their army's state.
Chama pushed back the maps.
"I really am impatient to wear my circlet and ring again. That's such a temptation… Please change my mind. Tell me, if I am to venture out of this town to the west, I would appreciate a guide. More than a guide, a companion to fight at my side."
"Boss not be forgetting Deekin?", the kobold suddenly chirped, tugging at her sleeve with a distressed expression.
Chama beamed at the kobold. "Of course not, Deekin, but you can hardly be my guide in the Underdark… I need a companion who knows this place."
The kobold nodded wisely, sliding back into silence, soon forgotten by the others.
"I'm not sure how these things work in the Underdark though," Chama confessed and turned back to Nathyrra and Valen. "Do the drow function as mercenaries, or as parties? Who would be willing and skilled enough to accompany me?"
"I was hoping you would ask," Nathyrra grinned. "I would gladly journey with you. Far better to be active than to wait here for the Valsharess to act."
Chama shook the drow's slim hand. "I'm glad for your presence, Nat. But… between the two of us and Deekin, we're embarked on a journey to death. We need someone to take the brunt of the fight, because summons can only do so much, and I doubt that, with the Valsharess on the move, we can afford to rest every five hours to replenish our spells."
That's when Valen spoke, his voice low and measured.
"I don't believe in the Seer's dreams, Chamaedaphne."
"Chama."
Valen glared, irritated, at the interruption, but Chama just kept smiling at him in a sunny manner. His irritation had melted down in good part under that smile when he continued. "Though I do believe you want to stop the Valsharess. Yes, I think it would be to everyone's advantage if we were to join forces."
She shook his hand, with a great smile.
"I'm glad you accepted. Now I feel like I have a team with a chance for survival."
"How optimistic of you," Nathyrra observed with a giggle.
Deekin started humming the Doom Song, and there was some wicked sense of humour in his timing that did not escape Chama.
"I'm serious," Chama countered, even if she repressed a smile because of Deekin's antics. The kobold really did not look like it, but he knew he could make her laugh and always tried his best. "We'll train this afternoon, and you'll see why I don't have much trust in my survival if I go alone. But first, let's see about your equipment. If you will wait for me a few minutes, I will retrieve my pack from my room, and we'll see if anything can be of use to you."
Valen and Nathyrra waited, still discussing the Valsharess's allies, while Deekin stayed there, inconspicuous and forgotten, until Chama came back, carrying her pack. It was, unlike a warrior's more voluminous bag, a little leather bag that she could strap to her back. Warriors and thieves were more of the habit of something to be slumped over a shoulder and hastily dropped as combat was beginning, because a heavy weight on the back is hurtful for balance.
She set the bag down and opened it. In it were many bags of holding, six of them. She took the first one.
"Armour and weapons. You might want to look through it, Valen, and then hand it over to Nat, I think there's a dagger or two."
She got another one out. "Potions and healing kits. I need to sort it out and see what we won't need. Your opinion, Nat?"
The drow took the bag and opened it. "Well, you've got pretty much all kinds of potions."
"Yes. What I usually do is sell all those that enhance attributes such as strength, because magical equipment will play that role. I usually sell lore and speed also, since I have a few pairs of boots with that magical property, but perhaps you'd like one?"
She was looking critically at Nathyrra's boots and it was obvious that she knew what their enchantment was without the need to examine them closely or flip them over.
"I could keep a few ones, yes," the drow added, then stashed them in her belt.
"I'll keep the most powerful healing potions for Valen and a few less powerful for us. We'll keep the healing kits and antidotes, and then sell the rest."
"I agree. I don't think we would have much use for the rest."
Valen had been oblivious to that last exchange as his awed eyes slid over the sleek and glowing lines of the three armours ensconced in the bag of holding.
"Where did you find a red dragon scale?", he asked.
"Oh, well… I killed a red dragon, why? I know it's grand and glorious, but you'd probably be best served by the chainmail of speed. That is, if you're willing to stop wearing the one you have now, and I know it's symbolic to you."
Valen looked over the other chainmail, which was also red in appearance. It was indeed better than the one he wore.
"I can never give up my armour," he declared.
Nathyrra clucked her tongue impatiently. "You don't have to give it up, but it seems to me that it's wiser to wear the best equipment you have. It's a rare engagement when you don't have to use every edge you have."
Chama lifted an eyebrow. It was the assassin within Nathyrra who had spoken, but she had given sound advice. "She's right. You can still wear your armour most of the time, but I think it would be safer, for the four of us, if you wore the most powerful armour when we are to face a dangerous battle."
Valen nodded. "I will try it on this afternoon to train, and will ask Rizolvir about any adjustments if necessary. Thank you, Chama, for this armour."
"My pleasure. Do you think Imloth would like the red dragon scale? I'd offer it to Rizolvir, but I suspect he would hang it to expose it in his forge but do little use of it."
Valen and Nathyrra laughed. "Imloth would not like a red dragon scale," Nathyrra finally exclaimed, "he would drool over a red dragon scale."
"Very well then. But maybe it would be better if… if it is one of you who gave it to him? I am still new here, and I don't know how giving such powerful armour to someone is going to be perceived."
"As the new leader of our forces, it will show that you take your officers seriously if you give the armour to Imloth personally," Valen said.
"The new leader of your forces?", Chama repeated. "The Seer made it pretty clear yesterday that it was your battle prowess that kept you all alive up until now. I don't see why I would suddenly be the new leader of your forces."
"Because of the Seer's visions," Valen spat.
"Are you questioning the Seer, Valen?", Nathyrra demanded, her tone cold and sharp as a blade.
"Not yet, Nathyrra. Not yet."
There was a moment of silence.
"So… here are the wands and magical scrolls," Chama announced, taking another bag of holding out of her small backpack to change the subject. "I was thinking of selling all the parchments and rods but resurrection, summon creature of levels seven, eight and nine, and Tenser transformation. You can pick the rest if you think you will use it."
She took another bag out; this one was smaller, but not as heavily enchanted as the other true bags of holding.
"Gems, rings and amulets. There are a few among those that are magical. You can pick what you will. Oh, all but the Amulet of the Master. I need this one on occasion."
She tossed the bag to Valen, who opened it and looked at the contents.
"A ring of clear thought!" Nathyrra suddenly squealed and jumped for the ring in the middle of the bag. Then she looked up to Chama. "I'm sorry, is this yours?"
"Not anymore, Nathyrra. You can take it, but I think Gulhrys has others, more powerful. I'll check with him tonight. Which reminds me, I need to speak with you privately."
Valen growled. "You had better warn her well, Nathyrra. She's been invited by Gulhrys for dinner tonight."
Nathyrra arched an eyebrow. "The high wizard invited a female to dinner? He's bolder than I gave him credit for. But Valen's right, there are a few things you should be warned about."
"Later, in private, please, Nat."
The drow nodded.
"What is in this last bag of yours?", Nathyrra inquired, curious.
"My spell components. It's rather smelly, so I don't open it unless forced to."
The drow winked. "I understand. I know all to well what a bag of spell components smells like."
Once her two new companions were done donning their new equipment – with the exception of Valen's armour – Chama eyed them.
"You two need gauntlets. But it will do for now. I'm a bit hungry now. It would be nice if Nathyrra would show me to somewhere where I can eat and warn me enough to ease Valen's worries during lunch, and we could train this afternoon. We need to know how each other fight and the team needs to practice a few basic tactics."
"I agree," Valen concurred. "I need to try this new armour too, and Nathyrra should also familiarize herself with all her new equipment."
The drow nodded, and then helped Chama to pack her things back up. She stood up gracefully. "Let's lunch and discuss, and after that we will shop a bit – we need to empty this bag of yours if we are to bring back spoils from those many glorious adventures awaiting us."
Chama stood in her turn.
"Hm, Boss?"
"Yes, Deekin?"
"What should Deekin do while Boss speaks with drow lady?"
Nathyrra smiled, flattered to be addressed as "lady".
"I don't know, Deekin… What would you like to do?"
"Deekin is a bits hungry…"
Valen saw it coming, but still growled when Chama turned to him. "No," he muttered.
She glared at him with narrowed eyes. "Yes," she whispered, and turned on her heel before he could protest, leaving him baffled and alone with the hungry kobold, to find suitable food for such a creature.
After two seconds, he overcame his shock at being treated so forcefully and how she had dared to so blatantly ignore his opinion. His eyes flared red and he glowered at the kobold who, surprisingly enough, did not skitter away as was intended. The kobold looked at him patiently and, if Valen could read reptilian faces better, he was sure he would have seen amusement there. It baffled him even more and he growled, getting to his feet, "Come on. Let's find something you can eat."