Chapter Three
Part II
Rilian rushed in, and thrust out with his sword, Ascord deflected it and Rilian spun backwards, slamming his dagger into the other drow's back, but feeling the bite of the two-bladed sword cutting into his own.
They separated, laughing, "Well how does it feel to be dead, Rilian G'kar?" Ascord asked him as he threw the dulled and blunted training sword aside to be handled by a common servant.
Rilian laughed and said "For the fifth time today? I am beginning to get used to it."
Ascord's laughter however died and he drew out his true weapon. For an instant Rilian almost believed his trusted friend meant to attack him.
But Ascord said "How is it that I slew so many foes on that night of battle and you claimed only one? You and I are equal, five out of five matches here have ended in a draw, why did you not excel as I have? Is there something you are not telling me?" he demanded bluntly.
Rilian did not know. That was part of the reason he'd asked Ascord to practice with him now, he wanted to see if there was such a gap between them as he suspected.
And there was not.
They were still equal, as Ascord had said. This meant that whatever had happened on the field of battle had somehow been due to some other incompetence on Rilian's part, not that he could ever admit that aloud.
"I suppose," He said, "I was nervous. It was the first time that we had faced drow opponents with true intent to kill."
Ascord gave him a doubting look, but said "You did seem to slow once the slaves were all gone." The larger male laughed and said "Just remember my friend, drow or goblin they are all but pieces of meat once you are through with them, it is the skill that differs but we learned how to assess opponents in the academy, not so? When the time comes, do not hesitate."
"Indeed we did learn much in the academy, and I will never hesitate again, I assure you." Rilian laughed, "Next time it will be Rilian G'kar who takes the head of a matron mother."
Ascord put his swords down and smiled at Rilian, "I will be there to watch, and laugh as you learn that it is far more difficult than you might believe."
They both laughed for a moment, it was weak, forced laughter.
Rilian frowned and turned to his friend, "Ascord, would you ever kill a child?"
"I suppose I would if it were a threat." Ascord said.
"And if it was not?" Rilian asked. "Would you kill it simply because it was . . . convenient?"
"If it is convenient, then I do not see why I would not if it is my desire to do so. It is hard to say, I have not yet met a child whom I wished to kill. Let alone without motive." Ascord said. "Are you thinking of fighting children until we become even in the number of heads we have taken?"
"No, I only . . ." Rilian frowned and shook his head, "Never mind. It is nothing."
Ascord smiled, he seemed about to say something else when a guard spoke up, "Ascord Ublaz, the high priestess Qillathe G'kar commands you present yourself before her this instant."
"Where?" Ascord asked, sounding puzzled, after all he was a rank and file soldier in the house ranks, why should the first princess want to meet with him?
"She requires your presence in her personal chamber." The guard said with a sly wink.
Rilian tilted his head to the side and smirked, "Ah. I wonder, what ever could she be calling you there for?" Ascord looked slightly pale, Rilian laughed and said "Remember what you've learned about assessing your opponent . . . and do not hesitate." Rilian laughed.
Though the situation might have amused him in the past, yet again today Rilian's laugh was forced.
Alloran Firehammer sat reclined on a throne of hard stone.
It was in fact, just hard stone. A boulder, no true throne. But the way he sat there, like a king looking down on his subjects, the odd shaped rock almost resembled a magnificent seat of authority.
Alloran was bald, like any other Duergar. His scalp was covered with magical tattoos, he could make them faintly glow various colors, though beyond that there was no magic to them.
He only made them glow during negotiations when he was upset, or angry. It aided in intimidating the person he negotiated with.
The tattoos were glowing furiously now.
The drow messenger stood proud and tall before him, one hand resting on the hilt of his rapier, the other behind his back in a dignified manner. It didn't impress Alloran, in fact it annoyed him. "My mistress has agreed to your terms, mercenary. She will pay you what you ask."
Alloran nodded, "Good. Now where is it?"
The drow seemed a little surprised, and that by itself was almost worth the trip to Menzoberranzan. Or at least, the tunnels nearby. The Firehammer clan (or at least the portion of it that had come with Alloran) would not have been a welcome sight inside the city of Menzoberranzan.
As it was, Alloran would have to put down any patrol that stumbled upon his band. However the natural ability of the duergar to turn invisible, as well as the Firehammer clan's skill with stealth allowed them to simply avoid detection all together thus far. It prevented needless bloodshed, though any patrol worth their salt would likely have a wizard capable of seeing them.
But so far the tunnels were quiet. It was really quite boring. His boys were spoiling for a fight, and this pompous messenger was only reminding them just how much the gray dwarves hated the dark elves. Reminding them that though the drow paid well it would not be hard to turn on them without a second thought.
One of the reasons Alloran usually tied to get as much of his fee in advance as he could when dealing with drow. Though there was fun to be had in taking the remainder from stingy clients.
"What do you mean 'where is it?" The drow messenger demanded.
"Exactly what I said. Where's me money? Ye said yer mistress agreed to the terms, so where's the advanced fee?"
"She never mentioned an advanced fee." The drow snapped.
"Then how much ye got on ye now, lad?" Alloran smirked.
The drow's eyes flashed and he drew his rapier. Alloran moved before the blade was half out of its scabbard, he lashed out with on of his hammers, hitting the drow in the face and likely breaking his nose. The drow rolled on the ground, dropping his rapier and crying out in pain.
The gray dwarf mercenaries knew better than to interfere with their chief's play, and though many of them practically salivated at the hope that they might get to finish off the dark elf, not one of them so much as raised an axe.
Alloran allowed his tattoos to flare as he said "Take this dark elf trash away from me sight, I'm bored with him." The drow looked truly shocked, even confused as Alloran's guards shoved him away. Trying to regain his dignity he mounted his riding lizard and began to set off, nose bloodied but in the air. That is until he found that one of Alloran's mercenaries had tragically cut the harness strap to his lizard while the elf had been meeting with Alloran.
Alloran's duergar made threatening growls and began to put their hands to the handles of their axes and hammers when the drow fell from the back of his mount and cursed the dwarf he'd left it in the care of. The drow then decided to very promptly exit the scene, and seeing him run off, perhaps even faster than his own mount could have carried him did make the trip worth the trouble it had been and the boredom it had caused until now.
"Should I get the boys ready to move out? We'll be wanting to get there before them drow." His second in command, Benmik, a priest of the Duergars' deity, Laduguer, asked.
"Nah. Just ready a score and a half of them, and twice that in goblin battle slaves. That'll be enough."
"Am I to be leading them?" Benmik asked. The priest did so love to kill drow, his heavy full plate armor was adorned and decorated with the jaw bones and ribs of several dark elves, upon the helmet he now had tucked under his arm was the complete and polished skull of a drow matron mother. An extremely low ranking one, but none the less it was quite a kill for the priest, one that many fighters dreamed of.
Alloran however rather liked smashing and crushing a drow skull himself, unlike his tattoos the twin duergar war hammers strapped to his back weren't just for show. One of them was enchanted to catch flame with but a single word from Alloran-and Alloran alone-and it served as something of a banner for his clan, which had been called Fire Hammer long before the weapon came into Alloran's possession.
His second hammer was an ancestral weapon passed down to him from his father, it was mighty indeed and, Alloran had been told was infused with an unholy energy. Alloran was beginning to hunger for a chance to put both to good use.
"Ye ready up the number I telled ye, but I'll be leading them. Ye take the lads back home." The duergar mercenary held up a gauntlet clad hand, "I know yer spoiling for a fight much as anyone so once we're away ye take the next drow patrol to come through here and have yourselves some fun."
"Aye captain." Benmik nodded, "I'll pick ye out the very best of the lads."
"The best," Alloran affirmed, "the best at killin' drow besides yerself . . . may be hard to pick, all our boys is hard, trained killers."
"I know these boys," Benmik laughed, "I know which of 'em ye need for killin' drow, I know which of 'em ye need for killin' orcs, I said I'd pick ye out the best, and ye wont be disappointed with what I give ye."
Alloran smiled and nodded. To the drow, having a second in command who knew the troops nearly as well as Alloran himself, and believed that he knew them better than Alloran did would have been dangerous. To the duergar it still was. But duergar were not such a chaotic race, they were lawful and just, or at least Alloran believe that they were.
He knew if Benmik wanted his job he'd challenge him for it openly, not stab him in the back.
This made his clan stronger than drow, Alloran thought. Had he been a dark elf, he would have already had to kill many of his finest subordinates out of sheer paranoia.
Just like the drow.
The raid on the surface was quickly, but quietly planned. A score of slavers, accompanied by half a score of Gauban's mercenaries would go to the surface mounted on riding lizards, they would bring back sixty or more goblin slaves.
It seemed a lot of trouble for less than a hundred slaves. But Talia made the decisions, Rilian did not. But there was no sense of impending doom this time, Rilian was confident, and even looking forward to a chance to test himself on the surface.
He wanted to fight again, wanted to show his matron and his sisters that inexperience was not weakness. That he was going to become an excellent weapons master.
He felt Tak'Hera wrap her arms around his waist and put her head on his shoulder, apparently despite all the time Matron Talia spent with the youth personal boundaries had never been discussed.
"You look positively fearsome, dear Rilian." She told him, a slight sigh in her voice. She handed him the dagger she had given him, "But you have forgotten this."
Rilian smiled as Tak'Hera moved over to his bed and lazily fell down upon it. A second time with that dagger she could have ended him but had not. Perhaps it was a matter of having no motivation on her part, or perhaps he was paranoid.
He had not forgotten the blade, he simply did not yet trust it. He had had no opportunity to inquire about it with Borrakul. If it were enchanted its magic might hold a different effect on the surface, as Rilian had heard was the case with most drow magic.
His sword was a different matter as it had come from the surface to begin with.
But he nodded to Tak'Hera, he'd take the dagger, there was always the chance that it too was of surface design.
But it was hard to believe anything so dark and twisted could be made by the weak surface beings.
He checked all of his weapons and nodded, "I suppose it is time then."
"Bring something back for me." Tak'Hera said.
Rilian frowned, "What?"
"I do not know what you will find up there. But if you should see anything nice bring it back for me if you can." Tak'Hera commanded.
Rilian nodded, "Very well . . . if I see anything of value."
"Not value. Interest. Something strange and new. Gold and jewels are all too common here." The lithe female said as she rolled out of the bed and came up on her feet. She cleared the distance between them in a skip and said "But even empty handed, return swiftly and safely, Rilian G'kar," before lightly brushing her lips up against his.
"What was that?" Rilian gawked at her.
"Incentive. To be sure you remember to return to me." Tak said simply.
"That is not the sort of incentive a sister offers her brother."
"No. It is not." Tak agreed. "But I am not your sister. And on the subject of things that are not, this is no mere slave raid. Something is not right. Without you, life in this place would be even more unbearable."
"It is just a slave raid." Rilian told her.
"You know better. A drow child would know better. I cannot go with you, if anything should happen-" Tak'Hera began but Rilian held up his hand.
"Nothing will happen." Rilian assured her. There had been no sense of impending doom . . . until now. Now Tak'Hera was bringing it about with her worries. But for what? What did it matter to her if he came back or not?
"Rilian, we will be late if we do not go now." Ascord said, leaning in the doorway.
"I uh . . . have to go." Rilian said.
"Yes, I gathered that much." Tak smiled.
"I will return." Rilian assured her. And the time it took him to reach their destination and then return would allow him an opportunity to try to determine just what exactly Tak was up to. What she hoped to gain through this obvious manipulation.
Tak looked at him. It was a strange look. "I have lost too much in this life. Do not allow yourself to be lost to me as well."
Rilian smirked, "Enough games. No one would miss me if I never came back, not even you."
"That is not true." Tak said softly. "You know that I would."
Rilian nearly said something to her. But he wasn't sure what to tell her.
Emotions like those were a weakness, if she was not just playing some game she had to remedy those feelings.
Maybe going to Arach Tinilith really would serve her well.