Disclaimer: Of course none of this belongs to me. All characters/places etc. belong to their creators. The only one who is mine is Shi'van… and well, you know the rest.

Yeah, I blab a lot, but this is important, both for this and for some of the following chapters: Language is a fascinating thing. If you speak the language, then you also understand the culture that's using it… or so they say (check Samuel Dileny's "Babylon 17" for more on the topic!). You don't agree? Well, let me put it like this: in every language, you have words for what, in your culture, are every-day common things, such as "family," "friends" and so on, and you all know what those words mean. Drow, on the other hand, have words such as "medri", meaning "death bringer" or "jiv'elgg" meaning torture (with the root "jivvin" which means "fun, play, amusing cruelty") and those are perfectly sensible, every-day things to them. See what I mean? I think it speaks volumes about their culture and their way of thinking.

Anyway, I sometimes use drow words in this fic. Most of the time, I manage to squeeze in the translation right on the spot, but sometimes, I just can't. As far as this particular chapter goes, "ssussun" means "light" which is also a curse a drow might shout at another drow – "Ssussun pholor dos!" (or just "Ssussun!" for short) – "Light upon you!", as opposed to what a surfacer might say (like "Darkness upon you!") Oh, and if you ever wondered just what the hell is Valsharess shouting at you while you fight her… that "Vith oss!" thing… Well, believe it or not, but it means "Fuck off!" Hey, if you don't believe me, check the drow dictionary… And not that short version found in "Drow of the Underdark" but an expanded one – if you can't find it, let me know, and I'll send it to you. ;)


The Clash of Shadows

chapter 7

Death lurks in the shadows…

And that death is me

( Elghinn gulu'dae l' veldrin…Lu' nindel elghinn zhah uns'aa )


"The stalker / In mist of whispers / On road to oblivion / Unseen

Forgotten / Embarced by shadows / The weaver of darkness / Unleashed

The nameless / The haunted hunter / The silent inciter / Of screams"

"Shadowdancer," Shi'van Darkblade


Lith My'athar...

Rizolvir whistled as he worked. He had a freshly made scar on his cheek that was pulsing brightly when viewed in darkvision. It was unmistakably made by sharp nails, but Rizolvir didn't seem to mind. Imloth observed him from a distance and grinned.

"What do you say, Imloth? You think I should keep him?" Nathyrra too had a wide grin on her face.

"Watch it there, Nathyrra. Maybe our Rizolvir will turn out to be a bigger bite than you can swallow."

"Maybe… But I think I'll keep him anyway."

Imloth chuckled and turned to regard the grinning female. She had an air of a satisfied cat about her. Imloth hasn't seen her so relaxed in days.

"Any luck in handling some other 'love affairs' aside from your own?"

A dark cloud instantly settled in Nathyrra's eyes and she sighed deeply.

"Maybe. I hope so, at least. But I have to wait for Shi'van before I can test it."

Ever since the shadowdancer managed to get her the sample of Ut'silt-elg'd'sinss, Nathyrra was busily working on an antidote. It wasn't an easy job, even with the Seer's help. Nathyrra was still far more proficient in poisoning people, than in curing them. Still, she and the Seer did the best they could and the antidote they came up with recently just might prove to be efficient. Of course, with so little time on their hands, it was far from the potent thing they really needed, but it would have to do. If taken regularly, it should help break the addiction somewhat and up to a certain point dispel the suggestive effects that Ut'silt-elg'd'sinss had on it's imbiber. But the antidote could only give Valen a head start in the healing process. Their prime hope remained that Valen's own body was strong enough to fight Zesyyr's poison. And, of course, there remained Zesyyr herself. No antidote could repel that one. Poison maybe, but an antidote definitely not. Which was why they had to wait for Shi'van. Right now, Valen was safely out of the way, waiting in front of Zorvak'mur to organize the attack as soon as the golems arrive. Hopefully, by the time he returns to Lith My'athar he will already get his first few doses of antidote and will begin to fight the poison himself. However, it was Shi'van who had to deal with Zesyyr before Valen's return, for if she dragged him back in her House, then all their work would be in vain.


Shi'van stepped out in the courtyard. Swiftly, she made her way to the city taking care not to be seen and soon, she met with Nathyrra.

"Is it done?"

Nathyrra nodded and handed her the antidote. Since Shi'van was going back to Zorvak'mur it will be her who will have to give Valen the first few doses. She studied the shadowdancer carefully. How much she had changed in the past two weeks. She used to be cynical and bitter before, but not unbearably so. Now, she was simply dark, and few would not find themselves uncomfortably backing away from her shadowy dead-gazing eyes. It was clear to Nathyrra that something else has happened during these last few days in Underdark, but once again decided not to ask. Shi'van didn't seem in the mood for answering questions. She seemed more in the mood to kill.

"You'll go to Zesyyr now?" she asked her, though she knew the answer already. Shi'van just nodded grimly and turned to depart.

"We need her alive. Remember that." Nathyrra called after her. She had to remind her of it. The half-elf was really in the killing mood.


Zesyyr stretched lazily in her bed. She missed Valen. She honestly hoped he'd be back soon. A full week had passed since his departure and she began to worry what effects on his health the absence of Ut'silt-elg'd'sinss was having. Nothing too serious, she knew. After all, he was as strong a male as she had ever seen, but still… Should he prove to be strong enough, the effects of her drug might begin to wear off somewhat. She didn't like that idea. She'd have to increase the dose once he comes back.

She got up and walked over to her night table, then sat herself in front of the mirror and begun arranging her hair. Oh well, things weren't so bad after all, she grinned to herself, and they might turn even better soon. Before his departure, she spent a few days secretly casting subtle suggestion spells on Valen, gently coaxing out his far-from-anything-nice feelings he had for that damnable iblith. With any luck, that should prove enough to make him even less tolerant to the iblith's presence and once he snaps …

She smiled to herself again. She was so perfectly wicked. In a single strike she was going to get herself rid of the threat that that iblith presented to her, coax more of Valen's demonic blood out and, in doing that, also draw him even further away from the Seer and, in turn, closer to herself.

"Ah, my dear tiefling. You bring so much pleasure to me," she purred. "And how much more useful you shall be when this whole thing is over and…"

"Dream on… bitch."

Zesyyr jumped from her chair and spun about. Who the…? And then she saw a shadow emerging from a shadow, a red-glowing blade in her hand and dark fires burning in her eyes. The iblith! How the hell did she get here?

"The tiefling is mine." came a hissing growl "And if you ever lay your filthy paw on him again, so is your head, Zesyyr."

Zesyyr was dumbfounded for a second, but regained her composure quickly and tried to call out to her guards.

"Nothing doing, little matron" the shadow mocked her "No sound can leave this room, and it's just you and me now."

Little matron! Zesyyr's face turned bright with outrage. The initial confusion she felt was far outweighed by this blatant disrespect …and from a mere iblith! This insolent creature just popped up in her own private bedroom with swords and threats, daring to lay claim on her male and, above all, mock her? That is NOT how you address a Matron Mother! With a curse and a growl, Zesyyr reached for her whip.

Normally, the snake-headed whips were the personal gifts of Lolth herself to her priestesses and functioned as the extensions of their wielders' will. Now that the Spider Queen was gone, no priestess was supposed to be able to wield one, but late Matron Muryne had her house wizards create for her and her daughters the wizardly equivalent of the items and so the females of the House Maeviir continued to wield those dreaded weapons as a sign to their goddess that they didn't doubt her return.

"Now, I shall teach you the proper respect, iblith!"

The shadow grinned. "Asanque…"

Asanque? Zesyyr's face turned heated fury. What the iblith just said (and when the hell did she learn drowish anyway?) meant both "as you wish" and "likewise".

"Oloth plynn dos!" she screamed, "The darkness take you", and lashed out with her whip.

"Ol jal'yur xunus", the dancer replied sliding back into the shadows. "It already did".

Zesyyr smiled. True, this iblith has killed both Tebimar and her mother, but those two weren't prepared as she was. Stepping back instead of pressing forward with her attack, she quickly launched herself into fast silent casting.

"Ssussun!" she finished an instant later, and suddenly, the entire room flashed in a burst of bright light. "No shadows to hide in them now, little dancer." Zesyyr grinned to herself, completely undisturbed by this sudden brightness. She always found this particular spell to be useful when dealing with the various denizens of the Underdark, so she made her point to wear a magical ring that protected her eyes at all times.

Shi'van's eyes however, were completely unprotected and they were now filled with tears and hurt profoundly. With no shadows in which to hide, she now drew her other blade as well. Zesyyr's next attack came in the form of a magical beam that was supposed to stun her on the spot. She closed her eyes and fought through the pain as she tried to duck away, but she wasn't fast enough. She resisted the spell, but it still slowed her down long enough for Zesyyr to come on with her next attack.

"You cannot win this fight." Zesyyr taunted, quoting Valen's favorite battle cry. She drew a thin purple wand from her belt. It was a single-use summoning device and Zesyyr hoped to save it for some special occasion, but the sight of an impudent iblith being stomped to death by whatever creature answered her summons will be well worth the waste of the item. Grinning widely, she said the triggering word.

In a swirl of small purple lights, a shape of a giant hunting cat appeared in the middle of the room. Before it could gain it's full form however, Shi'van countered the spell with one of her own. A ray of energy shot from her ring and dispelled the summoning. Zesyyr growled in anger. Is that how you want to play, iblith? So be it. We'll see if you can dispel this …

During the next couple of minutes, Zesyyr launched spell after spell Shi'van's way, never giving her time to gain her footing, always keeping her ducking and in defensive. Much to her credit, the shadowdancer managed to either dodge or resist many of the spells, but she still got hit by more than enough for Zesyyr to be certain that this battle wouldn't last much longer.

Shi'van knew she was in trouble. Not only that she's been fed with more magic then she ever cared to see, but also the sound-blocking enchantment that Tarnash has placed in front of Zesyyr's room will soon wear off, and once Zesyyr's guards start pouring in here, her life will be forfeit. She had to force her way into close combat, and she had to do it fast. Ignoring the painful burst of the flame arrow that caught her squarely in the chest, she dived into a forward roll and slammed straight into Zesyyr. All five snakeheads lashed out at her at once.

Quickly recovering from the blow, Zesyyr grabbed a dagger in her left hand and stabbed savagely. With that acid-dripping dagger in one hand and her five-headed whip in another, she was confident that the iblith would go down in no time.

Her surprise was indeed great when in a matter of seconds only two snakes remained attached to the handle. The remaining heads still hissed and bit the shadowdancer furiously, but she didn't even try to avoid them this time. Taking one after another painful bite as if they were nothing, she danced around Zesyyr following some private rhythm only she could hear, her movements not completely unlike those of the snakes themselves. In few swift strikes, Zesyyr found herself pinned to the ground, both of her weapons out of reach and with the tip of a black-red sword at her throat.

"The tiefling is mine, Zesyyr." The shadowdancer whispered leaning close to her. Zesyyr felt a thin line of blood being drown from her neck and, at the same time, her very life force being violently tugged at and transferred to the sword's wielder. She watched mesmerized as Shi'van's wounds begun to close and she stared even more pointedly into the dancer's eyes. They were colder even than a Matron Mother's heart; two deadly orbs of deepest darkness staring straight into her soul and drawing her into the void. Zesyyr shuddered, suddenly more afraid than she could remember ever having been.

"Mine" the dead-eyed dancer repeated, "And if I ever see you even looking at him, you sorry excuse for a priestess of an impotent goddess, I will kill you. But before that, I will make you know the real meaning of pain, and by the time I'm through with you, you'll be begging me to kill you." She tugged at her life force even more forcefully "Remember, Zesyyr that I'll be watching you, always. Even when you think I'm not there, my eyes will be somewhere in the shadows, counting your breaths." her whisper was barely audible now "Fear the shadows, Zesyyr. You'll never know in which one you may find me. "

Just to underline her threat further, Shi'van reached for Zesyyr's dagger and marked her cheek with a painful cut starting at the cheekbone and going all the way to her chin.

"Never forget - Death lurks in the shadows… And that death is me."

By now Zesyyr was too weak to even whine, let alone scream. Long after the shadowdancer was gone, she was still lying on the floor, fighting for breath and shuddering. She knew that it would be a long time until those eyes stop haunting her dreams


Shi'van moved quickly through the streets. She knew she must not slow down, for if she did she would fall. The heat of the battle still hadn't left her body, but once it did, all the pain of her wounds, especially those wicked snake bites, would rush up to greet her. And considerably resistant to pain though she was, (and it was very considerable indeed), she knew she couldn't take that greeting standing up. Yes, the sword did heal her somewhat, but it was far from enough and anyway, Ensserick's enchantment couldn't do much about all that magical damage she had sustained.

When she was almost in front of the courtyard, she stopped for a second to swallow a healing potion. It wasn't much, but it was going to keep her on her feet for now. By the time she transported all the golems and before the attack on Zorvak'mur began, she might find some time to swallow another one… On the second thought, better make that two.

But her wounds were only of secondary concern to her now. She still couldn't shake off the mind effects the battle had had on her. First there was Eldath Ra'sin, then that thing with Valen and now this. She felt she was losing herself in the void again. No matter how desperately she struggled against it, her mood inevitably drew her further down that road. Just how in the world did she become this vulnerable so quickly? Damn it, if she doesn't brace herself, soon she might find that her last words to Zesyyr held more truth in them then she wanted them to.

At the memory of those very words, the part of her that was still in charge of trying to find the bright side to everything snickered. Gods, she sounded so theatrical there. She had to remember her exact words, Deekin was going to love them. She was certain that her friend will undoubtedly find some way to squeeze them into his book.

And speaking of Deekin, once this illihtid business is over she must make sure she spends as much time with him as possible. She was on the very edge of crumbling down and breaking into little pieces and only the little kobold's cheerfulness could get her out of it now.


Zorvak'mur...

The following morning, the attack on Zorvak'mur begun.

The battle was hard. It took the golems several hours to storm through the central settlement and reach the lower chamber of the elder brain. Out of the ten drow that went with them, six survived. Valen led the charge on the arena while Shi'van and several drow managed to sneak into the slave pens and release many of those who were still not brain-washed by the illihtids.

The fight in the lower chambers didn't last as long but it was at least three times harder, for most of the illihtids together with their most powerful thralls were located there. Still, after Valen, Ferron and, up to a certain degree Shi'van, finally managed to kill the central brain, things became much easier for the attackers. By the time they were out of there, not a single illihtid remained alive.


Shi'van watched as the last group of golems departed. With so many slaves released, it would take her days to get them all through the binding. Eventually, it was agreed that most of the slaves would go to Lith My'athar on foot, led by one drow scout and accompanied by golems for protection. Only those who were most grievously wounded were going to be transported through the binding. Which was just as well, as far as Shi'van was concerned. She could pull only up to two people at the same time when she went through the binding. Two normal sized people, that is. Since the golems were most definitely not in the normal-size category, she could only pull them through one at the time, and it took her almost a full day to bring them all here. It was all in all very time taking, not to mention the strain it caused her.

Fortunately enough, there were only three golems too damaged to go back on foot, and she took those three first. After that came a number of slaves, but that was much faster and much easier to do. Finally, after few hours, only she, Valen and another drow remained.

Shi'van observed Valen carefully. It had been a week and a half since he had his last dose of Ut'silt-elg'd'sinss and his third day of taking the antidote (though the tiefling didn't know about either one of the things he was being fed lately). Likely due to his incredible stamina he was not only still on his feet but also more than capable of running and fighting as well, as many an illihtid of Zorvak'mur recently found out. Still, it didn't have to mean a thing since the tiefling was as likely as not to collapse any minute now. In fact, he was already swaying on his feet, but whether it was due to the hard battle he has been through or the mixed effects of the poison and the antidote coursing his blood now finally catching up with him, Shi'van couldn't tell. Well, at any rate she did what she was asked to do. Zesyyr was taken care of, the antidote given and the rest was now up to Nathyrra, the Seer and above all Valen and the ability of his body to survive all this. In the end, she gave it all one final shrug, grabbed Valen and the remaining drow and stepped into the binding.


The Reaper's Realm...

Valen stared around him dumbfounded. Not that he didn't see his share of strange places by now, but this one certainly counted among the weirdest ones on his list. And nothing less could be said about the tall, hooded figure that peacefully stood in the center of the errr …room. Even Cavallas didn't seem so strange compared to this one.

"Well, Reaper" Shi'van greeted the tall figure familiarly "That's the last of it, and I'm erasing this binding."

"Very well, sojourner." The figure replied.

It nodded to Valen and the other drow as they passed by. The drow, already seeing the Reaper on his way here, returned the nod. Valen was about to do the same when a sudden rush of pain and nausea swept him over. He felt as if someone just hit him in the head with his own flail and the very next second, the floor rushed up to meet him.

The last conscious thought that passed through his mind was the image of Shi'van pouring something into his drink on this very morning…


Right, that clash between Shi'van and Zessyr was my first attempt at writing a relatively detailed combat scene. I'm pretty happy with how it came out and I think it also shows that spell casters are not minor opponents. Oh, and in case you're wondering how the hell is Zessyr (a priestess) casting with her goddess gone… Well, she's also a wizard, so there you have it. Oh gods, I am a sucker for details… I kept the illihtid fight short though. I mean, what's to tell really? I guess there are only so many ways one can describe hacking and slashing before it becomes too boring.

Oh, and one more thing about the language – What you've been reading right now (and so far) has been thoroughly checked by Vesna… which, of course, resulted in me spanding a whole hour correcting the text. I think she said I have "problems with narrative past perfect " or something like that… whatever that may mean… ;) And another credit to her – I based Zessyr on one of Vesna's old PCs, namely Sylinre'lyn Kenafin, as wicked a priestess of L'loth as you've ever seen, and that part in the previous chapter where Valen says "…he wasn't quite sure what her arguments were, but he knew they were sound when she presented them." Is also me paying homage to Vesna herself. Gods, you can argue with her for I don't know how long, she'll prove her point of view to you, you'll walk some 50 paces away… and only then will it dawn on you that she actually convinced you that black is white! Well, what can I say – she can sure make her arguments sound when she presents them… ;)

shadow0015: Oh, how I wish I had the tongue half as poisonous as Shi'van's… ;) And yeah, after all that happened to the main protagonist of HotU (crazy medusas, floating cities, Undermountain…) the Reaper really is just another weird thing along the way, but not much more then that. Hmmm… it appears my so-called poetry isn't that lousy after all. Hope this one hits the spot too. ;) And yeah, in fact I find Deekin's voice from SoU much better then this one

Penname wa Silver B: Well, I had to wait untill those two a sufficient reason to have a go at each other again. After all, they ain't rabid… though they do act like they are most of the time… ;) Hmmm, I was thinking about including the full gory description of Ra'sin somewhere along the lines, but I decided against it – I like gore too, but that "…and about to hang Deekin's underpants to dry" simply sounded too good. Oh, and the golems – well, that's a joke on me really – I think I could be perfectly capable of taking heads off of anyone (golems included) trying to wake me up before early in the morning around 3 PM, chockolates or not. ;)

Essence Silverdragon: No, he didn't. I need those two to stay alive a while longer… :) As for their pride and so on – frankly, I don't know what's really to respect about those crack-pots. Just kidding – I'll get around to that part too… some day. Glad you too liked the poem – unlike "Shadowdancer", "In the Mirror" was originally written in my native tongue and I had to translate it, so… And anyways, none of the poetry here was originally written for this fic, it's just some old stuff I wrote ages ago, but it seemed fitting. Sometime, I might post just those poems appearing here seperatly and in their full versions. We'll see…

Night Vendiviel: Don't worry, I won't abandon this story. Dunno if I made it clear, but I don't post it as I write it - the story's been written for almost a year now… well, at least two-thirds of it. But you'll be glad to know my writer's block seems to be finally over (or at least, I hope so). I continued writing last night and with all the ideas I got, it seems that there'll be at least 50 more pages to add to the already existing 100… And those hundred I already have will be 20 chapters all in all, so by the time I post 20th chapter, I'll likely have chapter 21 ready. Well, if Penname wa Silver B doesn't post any more chapters of "A Dark Shadowy Heart And Stuff" in which case I'll likely end up in a hospital giggling uncontrollably and not being able to write another word. ;)