Chapter Seven
Councils Light and Dark
Barundar Brottor sat on the council of the town of Waywocket.
A town that was home to three different kinds of beings, shield dwarves, rock gnomes and humans, it had been decided by the founders a hundred years ago that there should always be a representative of the people on a council of equals, after all a human couldn't properly represent the interests of the dwarves on council.
With him sat Dumble the gnome, a priest of Garl Glittergold, the god of gnomes, and brother to mayor Dimble, and with them, representing the humans was Mortimer, a wily old merchant.
Barundar glared across the table at the drow youth standing before the council in their chambers in the upper town.
He was not at all pleased about having been marched through the town in broad daylight, drow eyes were quite sensitive to sunlight, as Barundar knew, and the drow might still have been rubbing his eyes had Mortimer not ordered his hands be tied behind his back.
So now the drow stood there, glaring at them.
"Well lets begin," Mortimer said, "Introductions are in order, ask him his name."
"It is Rilian G'kar, of House G'kar, twentieth of Menzoberranzan." Khondar translated both Mortimer's question and then the drow's reply.
"Charming. Now ask him why he's here." Mortimer said coolly.
Khondar translated the human's words, the drow answered without hesitation.
Khondar growled something at the drow, but Dumble reproached him, "Tell us exactly what he says, no matter how rude or profane."
"He says he's here because we're holding him here, your honor." Khondar said, bowing in apology.
"Perhaps we were not clear in our questioning." Dumble said, nodding slowly.
"No, ye were, and I were clear in me translation but he's being difficult."
"Ask him if he knows what we'll do to him if he continues to be . . . as you put it, difficult." Mortimer said.
Khondar translated and the drow just shrugged and winked at Mortimer.
"Now ask him why he has come here."
Khondar translated again, and the drow responded, "I was separated from my patrol," he says. A slaving patrol."
Dumble wrinkled his rather large nose, "Oh I say! To make slaves of any creature, what a horrible thing to do!"
"He mentioned House G'kar. What is that?" Mortimer said.
Barundar answered that question, "Drow nobility are arranged into Houses, much like dwarven clans. It isn't unusual for drow to either serve or be part of a house, but for this lad to have the surname suggests he's a member of the noble family."
"So we have a drow noble in our grasp." Mortimer said with a greedy look in his eyes.
"Lad says he's a prince." Khondar nodded.
"For what that's worth," Barundar said, hoping to kill any thoughts playing through Mortimer's mind of trying to ransom the drow prince, "in drow society it's the women-folk that rule, males are good for breeding and sacrifice, being a prince he's slightly more valuable than the average male, but not by much."
"I see . . ." Mortimer nodded slowly.
"Ask him about the orcs that Holdan found with him." Dumble said.
"He tells me that they attacked him and he killed them all himself." Khondar said.
Holdan, who stood in a corner near Mortimer nodded, "That's possible. It'd also explain his injuries, he literally dropped once I got there."
"Very well, we've established that he can fend off orcs." Barundar nodded. "But that doesn't leave me feeling any more certain that he's got nothing to do with 'em."
"Nor I," Mortimer said, "but I do fear the retaliation of his household should they learn we have him."
"I telled ye, males are worthless to the drow, they wont come for him." Barundar said.
"Well it seems to me that he's of no use to us." Mortimer shrugged, "He cannot be ransomed to his household and he cannot offer us information about the orcs. I suggest we simply execute him."
"Now now, there's no real reason to just kill the boy!" Dumble cried, "Why not let him go?"
"Because if he finds his way home he'll be coming back if he can, with an army at his heels. Drow won't forgive indignities like being captured." Barundar shrugged.
"Besides, he said he came for slaves did he not? There are many women and children in this town that would made adequate slaves." Mortimer said.
"Aye, that's fact." Barundar said, "The elf is too dangerous alive."
"W-wait!" Khondar said suddenly.
Barundar raised his eyebrow, "Aye, Khondar, what is it?"
Barundar knew the look on his blood brother's face was one of determination.
"Barundar me chief, I have a plan . . . let me take the lad."
"Master Steelshadow we have professional executioners." Mortimer said.
"That is'na what I mean!" The duergar said to the human, though he did not take his eyes off of Barundar.
Barundar understood. He looked at the young drow. He stood there masking his fear with boredom and the shield dwarf would be lying to himself if he tried to deny finding a certain pleasure in seeing a drow elf trying so hard to deny the fear they were feeling. Barundar hated drow as much as the next dwarf, and he had no desire to let this one live.
But Khondar . . .
"What's your suggestion, Khondar?" Barundar asked.
Khondar ran his stubby fingers through his white beard, "Release the drow to me care, he's more like to trust me than any of ye."
"To what end?" Mortimer asked.
"He can be spared to live here." Khondar said firmly.
"No he cannot!" Mortimer laughed.
"Yes!" Dumble cried happily, "I can see it now, Waywocket, home of gnomes, dwarves, men and elves!"
"Elf. He is one, and I'd not tolerate a second." Barundar said coolly. He glared at Khondar not with anger but with concern. What was the gray dwarf playing at requesting mercy for a drow?
"You speak as if it had been decided." Mortimer said, "But I'll not have a drow roaming this town."
"He'll not be out of me sight for an instant." Khondar said firmly.
"That is not the point, I would not sleep well at all knowing there was a drow elf in my town who wasn't properly chained, or better still properly slain." Mortimer said. "I doubt there are many who would not feel the same."
Barundar had to agree. He was one of those people, except unlike Mortimer he'd set out to correct the problem personally with the help of his axe.
He knew many of his dwarves would do the same. He shook his head at Khondar, "The drow'll be slain."
"No!" Dumble protested, "He's just a boy!"
Barundar shook his head at the little gnome priest, Dumble was not usually one to be so nieve, he was a very wise old gnome . . . but he was not showing it now.
"He's a dangerous boy." Mortimer said.
"The man speaks sense, we cannot have a drow roaming this town. You've children Dumble, would ye like the drow to murder them in their sleep? Would ye like him to murder you and deprive those children of their father? He cannot live here with us, it is not his place." Barundar said.
"It could be argued that this was no place for a duergar either." The little gnome said.
"Watch yer mouth, or I'll punch it in!" Barundar roared.
"But he's right." Khondar said, and suddenly Barundar understood where the gray dwarf was coming from. "A being's race doesn't define them, I can prove it. Let me take him in, let me teach the lad."
"Ye've got nothing to prove Khondar." Barundar said.
"Certainly not, master Steelshadow!" Mortimer said with a surprised look on his face, "We all know your quality."
"But then again," Dumble said, "If we know master Steelshadow's quality why do you now doubt his judgment?"
"The lad deserves a chance. And I can make it worth the risk." Khondar said.
"Really?" Mortimer asked suddenly, eyes alight with greed again.
"Aye. I can." Khondar said, arms crossed. "The drow is our key to the orcs."
"How so?" Holdan demanded suddenly, standing up from the wall against which he'd been leaning.
"Give me a chance to gain the drow's trust," Khondar said, "Then let me appeal to his mercenary nature, the nature of all drow. Let me use him against the orcs."
"How?" Mortimer demanded.
"The lad wants to go home. He'll never make it by himself, give me time to convince him of that. Shouldn't take long if he's got any sense at all. So I convince him that I've got a way back to the underdark, one that'll get him home safely, but in exchange for it I want to know all about the orcs movements. Maybe, if they're hostile, we ask for the head of their chief to boot."
"I s-say master Steelshadow . . . do you have a secret path through the underdark?" Dumble asked, wide eyed.
"Of course not. even if I did it would not be towards any durned city of the drow. But it's not me plan to really let him reach his home ere again."
Barundar was surprised. Surprised and impressed by Khondar's declaration. "And what'll we be doing when he's brought us the head of an orc chieftain and demands a map or whatever it is ye'll promise him?"
"When the lad's outlived his usefulness? Well we'll examine that when we come to it I think." Khondar said.
"I agree, maybe he'll even become a welcome member of the community!" Dumble cried.
"Not likely." Mortimer said coldly. "But if he is kept under guard I will agree. Until such time as he becomes too great of a burden. One mistake and I want him dead."
"I'll keep a pair of me best boys with him." Barundar assured the human, "if Khondar believes it's worth the risk then it's worth the risk."
"I'd be of little use belowground," Holdan spoke up again, "but when the time comes I can track him aboveground. There's not a single spot in the whole forest surrounding this village that my "eyes" cannot see."
"In that case why can you not track the orcs?" Mortimer asked.
"I can, and I shall once they commit to entering the forests. They've slain too many of my allies that have strayed outside the safety of the woods into the open plains." Holdan shrugged, "But it would be difficult, likely impossible for me to infiltrate their actual camp as the drow could if master Steelshadow's plan works. I support it."
"Very well then . . . I suppose I shall as well." Mortimer sighed.
"All right drow," The duergar said roughly, "Council's been generous. Ye wont be killed."
Rilian scoffed. "Well good. I am glad to see you've come to your senses. Now release me."
"Not so fast." Khondar scowled, "Ye ain't being released."
Rilian's eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"
"Ye're mine now lad. I've been needing an apprentice, ye'll do fine."
"Oh I should say not." Rilian scoffed, the very idea of serving a dwarf in any manner disgusted him.
He'd always been told that duergar were a lesser race. They served the drow, not the other way around, if his family came for him and found him the slave of a duergar they were terribly likely to just leave him on the surface and return to Menzoberranzan laughing.
No, they wouldn't come. Ascord would say he was dead if he got back at all. Rilian scowled, no one would know he lived and really who would truly care? The only person who'd get him back to Menzoberranzan was himself, and if he had to serve the duergar for a few days, months, decades even in order to find a good chance of escape he would do so . . .