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.

Regarding the fight scene here: Yes, I believe it's a rather hilarious one. The reason for it is that I think in the face of such overwhelming odds everybody, Blood War veterans included, is bound to simply snap. And once the snapping occurs, there a re only two things you can do – either sit down and cry or laugh your butt off at the ridiculousness of it all (though, the said laughter is definitely very much on the histerical side). Well, that's what I had in mind here – after a whole temple of Cult Knights and a basementfull of vampires, you find yourself suddenly staring at a dracolich? My guess is that, if any of the characters were ever to tell you about this fight in their own words, this is how it would sound. Alternatively, you can just blame Terry Pratchett again, for I was still reading his book when I wrote this. ;)

Important! Ok, there is something I woved to say, so here goes: I recently ran into a stunning piece of work here on in Forgotten Realms section. The author in question is euphorbic and the stories are: "Leopard Among the Jackals," "A Taste for Dissonance" and "Devil Takes Hindmost" Now, I'd like to point out that: One – it must be the most literate stuff that was ever my pleasure to read. Two – It must be the most original stuff that was ever my pleasure to read. Much to my eternal dismay, I found that the stories received almost no reviews, so I will kindly ask yu all to go, read and review them! Yes, I'm plugging in for another author – But I'll have you know that it was those stories (and Lord Onisyr's "The Lesser Evil") that finaly made me decide to write a sequel to Shadows, so…

The Clash of Shadows

chapter 13

Join Me In Death part three – Let Sleeping Dragons Lie

Some time later, cavern below the temple…

Four pair of footsteps – one fairly quiet, but implying that the person doing the walking is rather heavily built; one very soft, as if walking silently is the walker's second nature; one fluttery, almost with a feather-like quality; last one… Well, last one goes unheard really, but had it been heard, it would probably be the sound of a shadow walking… provided anyone could hear such a thing.

Then…

A clattering sound, the kind one might get if one throws a handful of bones on the hard rock.

Four pair of eyes looking about nervously. One pair squints red; the other one cold blue, but with deep infernal crimson flickers. Third pair, angelic gold, darting about as if on butter. A shudder and several feathers land on the floor. Foruth pair… just a flicker of black fire quickly slipping back, further into the darlkness.

Then…

The clattering sound grows louder…

The clattering sound grows closer…

And then…

"ROAAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHH!"

A growling "What in the Nine Hells…!"

A stunned "By Elisium!"

A very sour "Vith!"

And a rather shadowy "Gulp."

As a rule, beasts don't take kindly to intrusions into their respective lairs. As a rule, the intruders into the beasts' lairs are quite aware that something nasty is bound to happen to them, just as the beasts are aware that something even nastier, like said intruders for instance, is about to happen to them.

But when the intruders happen to be a Blood War veteran, a drow weapon master, a celestial and a sneaky little shadowdancer (well, not that the last one matters much really) and the "beast" in question happens to be of a dracolich-ish kind… Both the intruders and the beast are usually into just one collective:

"(RRRoooOOOOoo)AAAaaaaaAARRRrrrrGGHhhhh!"

Shi'van jumped backward.

"Must be I'm on the right track," she mumbled to herself.

"Definitely right," she added as she danced away from another shower of blades and flaming missiles.

Moments ago, as Vix'thra almost snapped her upper torso in two (but, unfortunately, failing in the attempt), the whining celestial screamed that there's gotta be a phylactery around here somewhere. Since she had no business whatsoever joining the fight against a dracolich, Shi'van went looking for it. After she recovered from being scared shitless that is. Hey, it's not like that a huge dragon-shaped mass of bones is something you get to see every day …let alone see it up close and in person as the aforementioned creep is trying to turn you into a crispy little stain on the floor. And so, while the other three kept the fear-spreading bone-thing occupied, mostly by their attempts to stay alive somehow, Shi'van crept away from the battle and went in search for that… well, that "I'll know it when I see it" thing the deva had yelled about. Bah, seems that the presence of that planar feather-bag did wonders for her cynism. It returned it ten folds. But then again, that was always the case, wasn't it? She'll have her claws out and teeth ready in a snap, just give her something to sink them into. And all the venom available following right behind and… OUCH!

Damn it! If she was gonna pass through this trap-littered corridor, she'd better stay focused on where she steps! Now, wait a minute. Was it just her impression or that curved part of the wall isn't all that natural after all… Now, perhaps if she just twists that loose-looking rock and gives it a little push… right here…

/SCREEECH/

Moments later, Shi'van emerged on the other end of the secret passage.

...X

Meanwhile, the battle in the main cavern raged on. Valen slammed his flail relentlessly into the beast, completely forgetting about anything or anyone else around him. Imloth tip-toed around, trying hard not to get hit by both Vix'thra and Valen alike. Lavoara fluttered above them, driving the creature's attention away whenever possible and waited for the right opportunity to cast a healing spell on it – a very nasty thing to be done to you …if you happen to be an undead.

Vix'thra, on his part, was not idle either. He breathed huge cones of concentrated lightning in order to bring the escaped celestial down from the bloody ceiling already, lashed out wildly with its front claws, trying to pin the elusive drow to the ground and went through a pretty wide selection of spells in between… In hopes that at least some of them would be at least noticed by that nut-case of a flail-wielding tiefling!

In spite of being kicked hard more than a few times already, Vix'thra was actually enjoying himself. He hadn't had so much fun in years!

...X

"Oh, swell."

Shi'van emerged from the secret passage only to discover that the thing she was looking for was guarded by…

"Freakin' bone fuckin' golems! Gods damn it! I knew I should've drained that little sissy while I had the chance! At least now I'd have a golem of my own to send against these… "

She pulled that "golem-ass-kicking" shortsword she had out of her bag and flipped it in her hand. "Nah." She gave it another flip and sent it in the bag again. No way she was gonna try her luck against bloody constructs again. Besides, she just got another idea.

Swiftly stepping back into the passage before either one of the two golems noticed her presence, she dipped her hand deep into the bag and begun fishing for some things. First, a small but wicked-looking crossbow came out. Then, and out of her belt this time, a bunch of strings and wires appeared. Placing it all on the floor with one hand, she resumed rummaging through her bag with another. Carefully, she pulled out a couple of flasks and laid them down gently. Then quickly, she fastened several thin wires to a crossbow bolt, leaving a couple of nooses loose.

After few seconds of furious work, Shi'van retreated further back into the passage and knelt on one knee. She took another second or two to carefully aim at the very bottom of the pedestal that held the phylactery, took a deep breath, and – fired!

KA-BOOM!

Well, even if two high-speed fire-bombs and an acid bomb on top don't destroy the phylactery, the wall impact surely will. Hopefully, the ceiling will hold – 'twould be quite inconvenient to have to dig through a half o' ton of rocks to get to that treasure hoard.

...X

A thundering explosion and a violent airburst shook the cavern and nearly swept Valen off his feet. Imloth staggered backwards and landed on his butt. Lavoera went flying straight into a stalagmite. Vix'thra lay still.

Lavoera was the first to come back to her senses. Recovering from the initial shock of the blow, she un-glued herself from the rock she was hugging and flew through the narrow passage in the back of the cave from which, apparently, the explosion came in the first place. After a long moment of complete confusion, Imloth and Valen struggled back to their feet and followed suit.

It soon turned out that wasn't such a good idea.

The dust didn't even settle down yet and an occasional flicker of flame could still be seen coming out of a ten feet deep crater where the pedestal with the phylactery on it once stood. None of that however stopped a self-satisfied shadowdancer from already being nose-deep into the treasure pile. Few moments later, her relatively good mood was spoiled by the sound of a pair of wings fluttering in. Soon after, just as that golden-haired bird-brain was about to say something (and it would, beyond any doubt, be something very smart, probably along the lines of "What happened here?" or "Did you find it?"), the sound of running footsteps came from the…

…CORRIDOR!

Ooooops! She'd completely forgotten to flag those – "AAARGH!" …traps.

"Do be of some use birdie – go tell the boys to use that secret passage instead."

...X

After a while, a smoldering drow came in from the passage, a smug looking tiefling behind.

"All right, young lady" Imloth said, tapping his foot "What's the big idea of not disarming those traps?"

Shi'van shrugged, pointing her thumb to the smoking crater behind her.

"Been busy."

Valen couldn't help but grin, especially because he was the one who did manage to dodge the trap in time. He patted Imloth on the (kinda dusty) shoulder and limped into the treasure room.

Lavoera, however, wasn't smiling. Instead, she frowned and replayed the events of the past minute or so in her mind.

"Errr, Shi'van? Just when, exactly, did you blow up the phylactery?"

A sour look crossed Imloth's face. It became even more sour when, an instant later, he heard the all too familiar sound of creaking bones in the large cave behind. Next second, a very angry dracolich popped it's head in.

"Oh, shit. Not again..."

...X

Much later, the party of four tired, bleeding companions was leaning on the walls, struggling for breath. Vix'thra lay dead – this time for good. How they managed to defeat the dracolich for the second time in a row, no one knew. And no one cared, either. Was it Lady Fate that smiled on them this day, or was it someone else, it didn't matter. It was just important that someone did.

After some time that they spent gulping the last of the healing potions and bandaging what wounds they could, Imloth suggested that someone should go and inform the people of Drearing's Deep that the undead creatures were no more. Eventually, it was agreed that Lavoara was the best choice for the task and Imloth gallantly offered to accompany her. But that would have to wait until they all got some rest first. The deva did have some healing magic at her disposal, but she had already used most of it while fighting Vix'thra. Imloth was fighting hard just to stay on his feet, and even for a Blood War survivor such as Valen, two battles in a row against a dracolich were a bit too much (with that "a bit" part being a masterful understatement, if there ever was one). Confident that there were no more enemies left, all four were soon sound asleep.

Imloth woke up and found Shi'van on top of the treasure pile again. She hadn't joined in the earlier conversation, but rather busied herself by disarming the traps on the five large treasure chests that were stashed further behind the hoard. Right now, she held her Bag of Holding open and was (literally) plowing through the pile! Imloth observed her for a while. Even though she was the least wounded among them, she was still far from being unharmed. But in spite of the wounds, she somehow seemed more alive then she ever was during these past few weeks. Imloth smiled sadly. He has seen her kind many times before – people alive only when there's danger ahead, alive only when they're facing death.. But was that really all there was to it? Or was there something much more complicated than that behind the shadowdancer's troublesome mood shifts? Imloth suspected there was, but just what exactly, he could not say. Taking care not to wake up his sleeping companions, Imloth carefully made his way through the treasure pile and sat beside Shi'van.

Off to the side, Lavoara stirred in her sleep. Imloth noted a brief scowl pass Shi'van's face. Well, maybe he didn't know why Shi'van decided to show her bitter, cynical face again, but he was sure he could pin point exactly what triggered it.

"The Seer's army is a rag-tag mix of outcasts and misfits. I think that Lavoera will fit in quite well," he stated casually.

Shi'van fingered a necklace she just pulled out of one of the chests. "Stupid goose would fit far better into some pillow."

A chuckle escaped Imloth's throat. "What do you have against her? …Really?"

"Nothing efficient… Unfortunately," the dancer answered sarcastically.

Imloth gave her blades a quick glance. They looked pretty efficient to him. And in truth, he wasn't sure if the troublesome wouldn't decide to use them on the deva after all. He had gotten to know Shi'van well enough to know what she was capable of.

"Why are you so quick to judge? And wrongly at that. You know she is not half as helpless as you make her to be. Besides," he added, "She's still quite young."

"And that justifies her? Youth is no excuse for not being able to wipe your own ass without a map and three cartographers to read it to you." Shi'van grumbled, stiffening slightly.

Imloth observed her for a moment. Her sudden stiffness didn't escape him. Nor did the way she absentmindedly patted one of her daggers. "You hate her?" It was a question as much as it was a statement.

Shi'van breathed in deeply, let go of the necklace and turned to face the drow fully. A dark flicker in her eye hinted at something deep and angry inside. "I don't hate her Imloth - I despise her."

Imloth frowned. "Despise? And just what do you despise about her? Her asking for our help? Surely you can't hold wanting out of that cage against her."

"I can and I do!" she said sharply. "She fluttered into this mess herself, it's none of my business if she couldn't get herself out of it. Besides, she's got the attitude that drives me nuts."

Imloth chuckled. "Many would say that about your own attitude, you know."

"So they would. So let them. If people can't stand my presence, it's fine with me. Just let them stay out of my way. But at least I am not going around landing myself in shit and then expecting someone else to get me out of it."

Imloth eyed her seriously. He was a follower of Ellistraee and the idea did offend him. "So, if you happen upon someone in need, you'd just let them fry?" But he was also a drow, so he could understand it too. "And what would you do if you were in her place?"

"I'd die," Shi'van answered flatly. "But you wouldn't catch me sinking so low as to sob and whine about it. And definitely not the way she did. I mean, hello! 'Free me!' "she imitated the deva's voice mockingly, "As if it is her gods-given right to be released and we're all like supposed to be honored to be given the chance to do it! Come on, damn it! Just because she happens to have some pillow-stuffing dangling from her back, she's entitled to anything she wants? Just a blink, and the world's gonna start spinning around her? Forget it!"

"She didn't act like that," Imloth argued.

"Oh? Yeah, right. She was just sitting there like a little angel she is, blinking her big goo-goo eyes and playing damsel-in-distress in hopes someone would take pity on her. …Pity. Bah," the way she spoke the word made a pile of rothe dung sound better. "Those craving pity deserve to be kicked in their pathetic asses … hard. "

Oh? Now that was a topic that could be discussed for quite a while, but Imloth decided to let it go… for now. Before he could say anything else though, Shi'van cast a sideways glance Valen's way and added with a snort: "And while we're at it, a kick in the ass could just as well be served to some eavesdropping tieflings."

Valen sat up sharply. Imloth shot him a mischievous grin before turning back to Shi'van. "Maybe so," he said "But you could still give her a break."

"Why the hell should I?" there was definitely anger in Shi'van's voice now "I was never given any. But then again," a cynical half-smirk found it's way to her face, "I am not a bright little angel, am I? And that's the way things go, right? Helpless cutie-pies get all the breaks they want – And the rest of the crowd can stuff it."

"It is not about her being a…." Valen growled, his blood already beginning to boil.

"It's about her being a nice, lovely girl who gets to get anything she wants just because she's cute and shy!" snapped Shi'van. "The fact that she is one completely incompetent creature who doesn't even know where she's going or what the fuck she's doing, aside from landing herself in shit, doesn't really matter to either one of you, does it!"

Before soon-to-be-steaming-again tiefling could say something that was bound to initiate another fight between him and Shi'van, Imloth cut in, cocking his head curiously.

"So is it about her being helpless or about her being pretty?"

"It's about her being both! …And either way, the stupid bitch got exactly what she deserved!"

Before either Imloth or Valen could say something, Shi'van's eyes suddenly turned into two bladed slits. Imloth turned around and saw Lavoera, by that point fully awakened by Shi'van's yelling, approaching them.

Valen's eyes darted from one woman to another. The expression on Lavoera's face implied that she wasn't sure if she was more hurt or angered by all the things she just heard being said about her. The expression on Shi'van's face was one of murder.

"Maybe I'm just a stupid tiefling," Valen growled, rising to his feet and placing himself between the deva and the shadowdancer, "but I can never be sure of what you'll decide to do next. So," he went on, an edge in his voice even sharper, "What will you do? Will you maybe decide to kill a celestial solely because she annoys you?"A vivid memory of a past event came into his mind. "The way you did with that Talona priest back in Shaori's Fell? And who will meet their death from the shadows next?"he added, "And when? …I won't even ask about why and how."

Imloth looked at the tiefling sharply, but realized that the same thought passed through his own mind barely moments ago. Given Shi'van's mental state, which was always problematic, his friend's question was more then sound, so he decided to bak him up.

"With the last of the Valsharess' allies apparently defeated and the final battle approaching fast, we do need to know just what to expect from you."

Shi'van glared hard at both of them. Their questions were sound. And besides, she couldn't deny that she was sorely tempted to do exactly what Valen implied… But that wouldn't be a tactical thing to do, would it now? She snickered slightly as the thought came to her, realizing her mind was suddenly perfectly clear, focused, and, above all, purely pragmatical. It never fails, does it? As soon as her back gets pressed against the wall by her own emotions, she instantly retreats to cold calculation… And that was but a small, treacherous step away from the ever-beckoning void - the fact that stifled her snicker instantly.

"No. I don't plan to kill her," she said flatly, not even looking at the deva in question."If I went around offing everybody I find annoying, this world would be a much quieter place by now… And I would be one very busy person. So no. No pillow stuffing for me this time. Not that I wouldn't enjoy plucking her though," she added, shooting one venomous glance Lavoera's way. Without giving anyone a chance to respond, she continued. "And that loony priest got in my way. Thus, he's dead."

"Even though you knew he was not really evil," Valen seethed.

"So?" the dancer shrugged, "Good, evil… Makes no difference to me. And you all know it. Between taking his stupid challenge and a short-cut to the antidote…" she gave it another shrug, "I leave morality to those who believe it actually exists," she finished with sneer.

Valen clenched his teeth. Behind him, Lavoera almost choked at hearing such a blatant statement of what she considered to be pure evil.

Imloth leaned back on one of the chests and kept silent. He often heard Valen foam about how impossible it is to talk with Shi'van. This, he realized, was one of the rare chances to actually witness one such banter first-hand and see just how impossible it really was.

"And that answers your other questions too," Shi'van went on, addressing Imloth as well. "Whoever gets in my way will meet death. And whoever doesn't – won't. So basically, you just have to watch your step."

"Gladly!" Valen shot back. His gaze was so intense it could melt the rock. It could make the fire freeze. "But just what exactly will you decide to consider 'stepping in your way' is still beyond me. Hells, I can't even figure out where your 'way' lies, let alone how to avoid stepping in it!"

Shi'van looked at him hard. She didn't like where this was going. "And you're telling me you'd actually bother to do so?"

"Yes, damn it! I would! " the tiefling shouted.

Whatever Shi'van's answer was, Imloth didn't quite catch it, (though he did hear something along the lines of "I'll have Karandras mark it out for you, so you'll know when you misstepped…") for he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

"I… I'll go to… see to the villagers now," Lavoera said quietly.

Remembering his offer to accompany her, Imloth glanced at the raging duo and decided that it would be better if he forwent that promise after all.

"I better stay here, lady," he murmured to the deva, "In case my companions decide to revert to more…" he patted one of his blades, "…solid arguments."

Lavoera shot the aforementioned companions a brief, half-scared glance, nodded, and quickly headed into the passage leading out of the treasure cavern, eager to get as far away from the atrocious shadowdancer as possible.

Rested though she was, Lavoera still wasn't up to flying, so she made her way through the secret passage instead. Soon after, she emerged from Vix'thra's lair all together and proceeded up to the basement level of the temple. Once there, she picked up her pace, wanting to see as little of it as possible, especially that one spot where she had been held prisoner. Though the dracolich and its vampires were defeated, and the dark aura of the entire place had already begun to fade somewhat, she could still feel it keenly and she was in a hurry to get out of the temple as fast as her legs could carry her.

While she navigated the narrow corridors, her mind raced to catch up with all the things that had happened to her since she first arrived on this Prime. She was sent here by her peers to find… errr, someone and deliver a… Warning of some sorts? She couldn't really remember what it was all about. Not that it mattered. Such things had a way of sorting themselves out on their own anyway. Serendipity, right? And anyway, she was free now, and she had been asked to aid some rebels here, so it might as well be that that was what Fate had in mind for her all along. Though, while Fate liked to play some curious tricks sometimes, she would never have guessed that she would be rescued by a… Tiefling!

And not just any kind of tiefling. A Tiefling with a capital T! She wasn't sure if the mortals could even feel such things, but she, a deva, surely could. This tiefling was the child of a cambion - a demon with mortal blood, but a real demon nevertheless. Those sired by a cambion were the most powerful of all the tainted, just one step removed from the actual fiends… They were fierce… And evil. After all, what else could a demon child possibly be? But this one was different. She couldn't detect anything evil about him, neither in his aura nor in his behaviour, and that honestly puzzled her. It also worried her, for who was to know when might the demon in him awaken? When – not "if" – when would his suppressed nature burst? And what havoc will he wreak then? And then, there was this thing she overheard the drow saying about him - The veteran of Blood War! She heard there were such creatures, the veterans, but those were always more myths then actual people. No one survived the Blood War for long, no one save for the true fiends. And yet, somehow, this one had. And not just that. Not only had he survived - He had left! And now, he was here, on the Prime, helping those rebels and putting all of his power and battle prowess at their disposal… and for a noble cause. It was simply too weird, too improbable and out of place for the young deva to understand.

Still, the tiefling, much like his drow companion, seemed kind… Caring even, especially compared to that dark, shadow-dancing creature that accompanied them. But then again, compared to her, who wouldn't seem kind and caring? Lavoera stirred. That woman was indeed darkness incarnate… And blessed by an even darker Power. She had seen its aura around her clearly. And that artifact she carried? The one that originated from the shadow plane? It had the mark of the Masked God imprinted all over it. And Lavoera didn't like it one single bit.

"Squeeze out few drops of poison in rhyme
Don't be stingy, much will remain
In veins, below the tongue and on lips
Enough drops to crawl under your skin
In a green line with melodious hiss

String the tendons of pain through the rhyme
Despise yourself, grind your teeth
Behind the eyelids behold ghostly husk
Woven of shame and miserable weakness
Floating through bones to meet with your dusk

Tie up, bridle your rage through the rhyme
Bind your claws, don't growl now
Let the lava boil deep inside
On the surface, there is the hardened magma
Ashes remain, smoke is unseen, and the way out much too high

Squeeze out the poison and lava in rhyme
Cover them with spider silk
And swallow through mouth dried by flames
Thick and bitter liquid on palate
Slides down the throat and through your blood …
… until only a shiver remains"

"Nameless" Shi'van Darkblade

OK, I'll have you know that this and the following chapter were extremely difficult to write! It took more then two weeks to get them done and I'm still not quite satisfied with the results. Now, I know I'm always pleading (threatening, whatever…) for reviews, but this time, it's really important – I put so much effort and work into these dialogues and I really, really need to know how do they sound!

And as far as the poem goes, concider it a small prelude to a banter coming up in the next chapter. ;)

Penname wa Silver B: He-heh, mysterious drow chatting… But who are they? You'll see… Glad you liked that Sodalis scene… but somehow, I knew you would. ;)

Night Vendiviel: Why does Shi'van obey Imloth? Hmmmm… I don't think she knows herself. ;) I think it'll become a bit clearer later on. Oh, and just be grateful I didn't really kill Valen there – in the first draft, that was precicely what happened, but then I realized I need him alive… for a while longer, at least. (wicked grin) And Enserrick? There is a reason why he ain't talking, but there'll be more about it some time later.

Wolf-Kin: Yeah, I did try to make it funny (oh, and congratulations on passing that exam, btw.) Anyway, I was always freaked out by that Sodalis monologue and frustrated at having to listen to it all… Hells, who in the world would wait for the speech to end before attacking? And it wasn't like he had anything smart to say anyway. ;) Ulterior motives? Certainly! But I thought it was clear by now – Tarnash needs the Seer and her crowd in order to lead his own away and start a Vhaeraun settlement. But, they hold him responsible for Imloth's death, so they're not too keen on helping him. But, if Imloth's alive… moreover, if it's Tarnash's doing… See what I mean? Oh, and "shadowy" words? Well, that undead bugger was "a shadowmaster," whatever that may be, but I figure it's some sort of an undead assassin or something. Besides, the whole fic is called The Clash of Shadows, ain't it? ;)

shadow0015: How many fireballs is too many? Well, if you're on the receiving end, then - just one. ;) Yup, I guess little feathery whiner is still in training, though for what, I've no clue. Proffesional whiner, maybe? ;) Sooo… "time-stopping" scene did hit the mark? (is happy) Nope, no garlic around… and I had to save the acid for Vix'thra. "a tempermental boulder and callous hard place" – Im love the sound of it. Think I'll steal it. Imloth… well, he didn't really piss anyone off… it's a shitty job… but somebody's gotta do it. And NWN got rated teen precicely because Nat didn't say what drow girls like doing with Val's tail. A shame… I was really curious. ;) Anyway, you got away with not getting killed because you're my favorite reader and a regular reviewer – and you'll stay alive as long as you keep behaving. ;)