xxxxxx

Chapter Thirty-Eight:

The Drow's Plan

xxxxxx

Jaelyn's scent was leading them on a true path for the drow stronghold, Quin was sure of this now by the fact that he could see the temple's stone tower above the trees.

The halfling had spent the previous night at a campsite that had obviously been abandoned by his companions. A solitary bed roll had been left behind, half rolled up, with Jaelyn's scent on it. The fact that they hadn't taken down camp left the halfling unsettled. Neither ranger ever left anything of themselves behind and they never traveled without the necessary equipment, so this was unusual. It was almost as if it didn't matter, or perhaps they had left in a hurry.

He didn't like any of this. He couldn't figure out why Bishop would take Jaelyn to the drow stronghold. It didn't make sense. Even if he was just getting rid of a witness, Bishop was perfectly capable of eliminating her on his own. If there was a chance the ranger actually cared about Jaelyn, Quin doubted Bishop would let that get in the way if she proved to be a threat to his survival. And then again, Bishop wasn't very predictable. There was no telling what he might do or what his reasons might be for doing it.

Thinking about it, trying to guess what might be going on was only proving to make Quin more frustrated and worried. Whatever the situation, there was only one clear fact that mattered: his friend was in trouble and he and Feral were her only hope.

Feral was impatient for them to get moving. He was sitting near a tree around the camp, staring fiercely in the direction of the stronghold.

With his things finally packed, Quin approached the cat-bear and knelt down to him.

"Now, listen," he said, as he gave the creature a gentle scruff on the neck. "You can't just run in there and attack, all right? We can't be seen or we'll never get in the stronghold alive. She's counting on us."

The cat-bear stared back at the halfling, his head turned a bit to one side. This pose was the cat-bear's 'I'm listening' pose, Quin knew, but it wasn't necessarily an 'I understand what is expected of me' pose, as most would think. If the cat-bear understood and would refrain from attacking, Quin couldn't tell. All he could do was hope.

The halfling stood and lifted his head toward the sky. It was as dark and ominous as it was yesterday, if not more so; it looked as if there would be a downpour any minute. Quin was no child of nature; it was impossible for him to tell what time of day it was without the presence of the sun, but the halfling guessed it to be late in the morning.

He started off in the direction of the stone tower looming above the trees, Feral bounding along after him.

They traveled quick and encountered no obstacles on their journey. Within an hour of their departure from the camp, however, the wind had picked up, carrying with it the scent of the ocean. Some time after that, there was a brilliant, purple flash of light across the sky, and then a boom of thunder followed.

The halfling picked up his pace and soon he came to the large clearing where the temple was.

Quin ducked down behind a tree just on the border of the clearing, trying to keep himself as camoflauged as possible. He peered around the temple, noted the handful of drow patrolling the perimeter as Feral hunkered down next to the halfling, his ears flat against his skull.

Quin also noted the drow guarding the doors to the temple.

The place was well protected as they all had known it would be. Quin had no idea how to go about getting inside without being seen.

Getting himself captured was out of the question. There was a good chance the drow would kill him on the spot. He needed to create a distraction, one big enough to draw all their attention, or at least the ones that were near and at the front doors.

He looked down at the cat-bear and smiled faintly.

The creature would be a big enough distraction. With his unusual speed, Feral stood a good chance of surviving and Quin knew without a doubt that the cat-bear would do anything for Jaelyn. The problem was getting him to understand what Quin wanted him to do.

The sound of the temple grinding open pulled the halfling's attention away.

Quin lowered himself to the ground, hiding further under the large ferns he was using for cover. He laid a hand on Feral to keep him still as he peered through the foliage.

A large troop of drow marched out of the temple and down the steps. They were all dressed and armed for war. Quin also saw that every last one of them were wearing some kind of blue-glowing pendants around their necks.

The troop headed out into the forest, hardly making a sound as they passed and disappeared beyond the trees.

When he was sure they were gone, Quin sat up and ran a hand through his hair, a deep frown on his face.

This was bad, really bad. The drow were undoubtedly marching on the village and there was nothing Quin could do to warn the natives. Even if he ran back to the village(which would be impossible without succumbing to exhaustion), he wouldn't make it in time. The natives' lives were now in the hands of Gulaonar and themselves. Quin hoped they had learned something from all their training; their final test was approaching.

There was strong doubt in the halfling's heart. Even with Gulaonar on their side, the natives' chance of success was low. They had never undergone any battle training exercises and hadn't even formed a plan yet for if the drow attacked. They knew how to use their weapons, but that was it. The drow knew so much more, and with no warning for the natives, this put their chances of survival down even further.

Quin shook his head. He couldn't think like this. It was time to act. He had to hurry and free his companions. The natives might have a chance if he could get them out.

The halfling picked up Feral and lifted him until they were eye to eye. Slowly, he began explaining what he needed the cat-bear to do. Feral listened, intently.

xxxxxxxxxx

Dresmor stood in the drab, cold cell, looking over his captives where they were chained against the wall.

He was particularly interested in the female drow. She had eyes that were hauntingly familiar and he wanted to know why. He also wanted to know how and why she was here.

He stepped toward her, but she refused to look at him, her face tilted down. Her white hair made a veil over her face, hiding it from his view.

Dresmor reached out, taking her chin in his hand and jerked her head up. Her pale green eyes, filled with fire, fell on his. The expression in those eyes, that fire, deepened that feeling of familiarity in him, so much that it nearly startled him, but he'd learned over many years how to control his emotions and as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone, buried effortlessly in the darkness of his soul. But Jaelyn hadn't missed how he looked at her, how he studied her.

"How did you come to be here?" he demanded.

Jaelyn attemped to free her face from his hand, but his fingers dug painfully into her jaw. Out of her mouth came one of the vulgar phrases she had picked up from Bishop.

"Fuck you. I'm not telling you anything."

Dresmor stared at her for a moment and then let go of her chin.

A smack echoed in the cell, followed by Jaelyn's pained gasp. Blood ran down her chin from her now split lip. Her ears were ringing from the blow and she hardly registered the violent rattling of chains to her left.

Dresmor spared a glance at the ranger to find him glaring in his direction with an enraged expression. Bishop fervently attempted to free himself from his shackles. It was all in vain and only caused the metal to dig into his wrist, drawing blood. Bishop hardly felt the pain over his own anger.

Dresmor smiled and laughed. "Ah, I see. Spare yourself the trouble, human. It is a useless and dooming emotion you feel for her."

Bishop scoffed. "If you think you can get at me by using her, you're wrong."

Dresmor grinned. "Oh, indeed. One slap to her pretty face and you're ready to rip out your own limbs just to get at me."

He grabbed Jaelyn under the chin again and turned her face toward Bishop. She avoided the ranger's gaze and her hands were clenched into tight fists. Bishop clearly saw what she was attempting to hide from him: her fear.

Dresmor pressed his thumb and nail into her split lip, causing a wave of pain to course through her entire face. He dug deeper until she couldn't stifle a moan, her brows drawn together in an expression of pain. She tried to draw her face away again in vain.

It all succeeded in doing what Dresmor had wanted it to do. It fed the fire already raging within Bishop. Fed a little more and that anger mingled with the deeper feeling of helplessness would unhinge him if he couldn't control it. All of it also proved Dresmor's point.

Dresmor laughed. "She has already made you weak. It is what the female does. No matter how pretty and gentle they are, they strive only to weaken their males and they have the power to do so."

He waited for the ranger's reply and got none, so he turned his attention back to Jaelyn.

"Let's start with an easier question, then. Your name."

"Go to the hells."

"Stubborn one." Dresmor noted. "We shall do this another way, then."

He motioned for one of the drow standing outside the cell to enter. The drow strode across the cell and stood before Bishop, smirking up at him while he drew a curved dagger from his belt. When Dresmor nodded at him, the drow sliced open the ranger's leather armor, exposing the poison-filled contraption still embedded in his chest.

"Do not test my patience." Dresmor cautioned Jaelyn. "Should you still refuse to answer my questions, I will instruct him to end your friend's life. It will take little more than the press of a button, this I'm sure you're aware of."

Jaelyn rose her head to look at him, an overwhelming turmoil of emotions causing havoc inside her.

"Your name." Dresmor demanded once again.

Jaelyn lowered her head. "Jaelyn. Jaelyn Sharpshadow. I'm your daughter."

Her words had an effect on Dresmor that none of them expected.

He took a step back, his brows drawn together in slight confusion. He folded his arms across his chest as that confusion, too, was buried deep as soon as it had been birthed.

"What game are you playing at, girl? I have no children."

Jaelyn looked at him, met his gaze. "And yet you see something in me, something familiar that you can't place." she said, seeing her chance to destablize his calm. "You haven't truly forgotten her. You may have tried to bury her and what she did to you, but she's still there. She made you what you are now."

Dresmor glared at her and showed his first true emotion: anger. And to the surprise of everyone there, he said nothing.

"You know of whom I speak." Jaelyn went on. "The wood elf you came upon in the wilds when you left the Underdark, the one you fell in love with. Nanethiel Sharpshadow."

Dresmor's face contorted with rage. His hand shot out and wrapped around Jaelyn's throat, tightening upon it until she couldn't breathe.

"How do you know that name?" he shouted into her face.

Jaelyn made a choking sound as she tried to draw breath.

"You...raped her." she was able to get out in a strangled voice. "I...was the...product."

Dresmor released her and backed away. Jaelyn caught the horror on his face as she gasped for air, but it lasted for only a moment before being replaced by that look of anger.

That bitch surface elf had ruined him and she had never paid for what she had done. Now part of her was here in this drow. He would get his revenge at last by exacting it on Jaelyn.

Dresmor turned to the other drow. "Take the human down. Torture him to his last breath."

He faced Jaelyn once again, staring straight into her widening eyes. "I want her to hear him scream before he dies."

Her heart stopped cold in her chest. What had she done?

"No!" Jaelyn cried in horror as she jerked against her chains. "Wait! Don't do this! Please!"

Dresmor paused at the cell door and looked back over his shoulder at her. She held his gaze, pleading with him.

"I'll do anything." she went on, desperately. "Anything. Just don't hurt him, don't kill him. Please. If you want me to pay for her crimes, then torture me, kill me! He's innocent."

Bishop could hardly believe what he was hearing. He never saw this coming; he had never thought someone would be foolish enough to actually give their life for him, and now that it was happening, he had no idea what to think. It moved him in a way he couldn't explain, but it also angered him to the core. He knew she had more sense than this, so why was she being so foolish?

It hit him with the force of lightning.

Those words she had been trying to speak before they were captured, those words he wouldn't let her speak, no matter how idiotic he had thought it would be for her to say them, he saw now that she would've meant them, she would've understood what they meant. They wouldn't have been just words.

She had been right, too. He simply didn't want it to be real, because he knew it would change everything and it would eventually come to this, one of them dying for the other. No matter how hard he tried to prevent it from happening, there were just some things you couldn't fight and control.

Damn all of it.

Standing at the cell door still, Dresmor was numb to Jaelyn's pleas. "Oh, I plan to have you tortured and killed, as soon as you've outlived your purpose."

He shifted his gaze to the other drow. "Leave his corpse at her feet."

With a final smirk in Jaelyn's direction, he left the cell and departed the chamber.

Jaelyn could not describe the horror she felt the moment Gulaonar had told her that Dresmor was her father. The horror was made even more indescribable by seeing and hearing him now. Though she'd heard plenty of what he was capable of, she had a foolish hope that what she heard wasn't possible, or perhaps there would be some reason for it or maybe he could be saved from himself, but it seemed the drow he once was, the one who had left the Underdark with hope was completely gone. There was not so much as a spark of goodness left in him.

She heard Gulaonar's words ringing inside her head.

The only way to stop him is to deliver his death.

She saw that now, more clearly than anything else. She could not save her father, for he was already dead. And she mourned for him, not for the drow that had stood before her moments ago, but for the one he had once been.

The drow in the cell with them gestured to his comrade outside to help him. When he entered, Jaelyn began fighting against her chains once again, a fierce, determined look on her face. The metal cuffs cut into her wrists, but she didn't care.

"Save your strength." Bishop said to her. "You aren't going to free yourself."

She wasn't listening. She continued to yank and pull her arms and legs.

Meanwhile, one drow went to the far right wall where Bishop's chains were secured to keep him pulled up against the wall and off the floor. When the drow released the lock on them, the ranger dropped to the floor and immediately went into attack mode.

He was only able to get to his knees before a foot slammed into his side and pinned him to the stone floor. He felt his legs being unchained from the floor and although they were still shackled, that didn't stop him from trying to kick the closest drow. The other saw what he meant to do and put a stop to it. His ribs were met with another boot and a fist smashed into his face.

"Get your damn hands off of him, you bastards!" Jaelyn cried angrily as she continued to attempt the impossible and break her chains.

When the two drow finally got Bishop to his feet, he was breathing heavily from the exersion of trying to escape. There was a small cut on his cheek from where he had been hit.

He met her gaze. His intense stare made her pause in her attempt to free herself.

"Don't let them win." he said, firmly. "No matter what they do to me, don't let it get to you, don't let it affect you. Don't give them what they want. You hear me?"

A drow shoved him to get him moving. He tried to shove back, but they both had a piece of him, making it almost impossible for him to move against them.

"Bishop." She was on the verge of sobbing.

"Don't."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I got you into this!"

"Don't be." he replied, a hint of irritation in his voice.

He was forced over to a rack. He had endured rack torture before, but he'd also gone through much worse. Although he didn't have fond memories of the experience, it was still small time. Drow were masters of torture; Bishop knew this was only the beginning of what they planned to do to him.

Jaelyn said his name once more. He met her gaze again through the bars of her cell. She smiled at him. Her eyes were glittering, not with tears, but with something else, and then those words came to him, echoed inside him in her voice as if she had just spoken them aloud.

I love you.

He couldn't explain why he could hear them so clearly, or even at all, but it wasn't the first time something like that had happened. There had been other times when they would exchange a glance and know what the other was thinking without words being spoken. Maybe they did have some kind of connection, but how and when it had developed, he had no idea. It was just there, as if it had been there all along.

He gave his eyes a roll and shook his head, but he was smirking all the same.

"I know." he said as he was shoved onto the rack by one of the drow. "It just tells me that you really are a fool."

Her smile widened. "Maybe I am, but it doesn't change how I feel. Nothing will."

One drow held him down as the other strapped him onto the rack, securing his wrists and ankles. They then began their slow torture.

xxxxxxxxxx

As far as Quin could tell, the cat-bear understood what he wanted him to do.

It was a half-assed plan, but a half-assed plan was better than no plan at all. Time wasn't on their side so they had to rush. If the plan failed, Feral would still have a chance to get away and Quin's presence would remain unknown.

The first part of the plan involved Feral taking down a few of those orb staffs to draw the drows' attention to him. Quin had no clue what they were, but he assumed they were important. Once Feral had their attention, he would then proceed to attack one of them to keep them busy while Quin sneaked into the temple.

Quin assumed that since such a large number of drow were on the march toward the native's village, it would leave the temple somewhat unguarded on the inside. At least, he hoped so. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet. There was not much else he could do but fight, anyway.

As Quin got into position, there was another flash of light and crack of thunder, and then little droplets of rain began pattering through the forest foliage. He kept himself covered behind a tree. He drew his rapier and then bent down to Feral, laying a hand against the creature's neck.

"All right, get moving. And good luck."

The cat-bear pressed his face into Quin's hand and then darted off across the clearing, making a bee-line for one of the orb staffs.

Quin watched from behind the tree as Feral leaped and intentionally crashed into the orb, knocking it off its staff. The blue-glowing sphere dimmed and rolled onto the ground with a muffled thud. It didn't break, but Quin noticed that the other orbs set up around the perimeter were no longer glowing, either. It seemed they were all connected, most likely through magic, and must have created some kind of invisible barrier that repelled specters. Quin was curious as to how the drow had even come across such magic, unless they had found it when they claimed the temple or perhaps brought it up from the Underdark.

A call rang out across the clearing in a langauge the halfling didn't understand. It was followed by a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder. The rain came down heavier now.

One drow came running toward Feral. The cat-bear drew himself low to the ground, growling. He might have been bristling if his fur wasn't wet. When the dark elf was within striking distance, Feral leaped at him and attached himself to the drow's face before he could draw his weapon.

The drow yelled something in his language-probably a curse-and flailed about as he made desperate and useless attempts to remove the little monster from his face. Feral let out a sound Quin had never heard before. It sounded like a panther's roar. The moment it left the cat-bear's muzzle, he ripped into the drow's throat. There was a violent flourish of blood and bits of drow before they both went to the ground. Quin looked away in disgust.

The plan was working so far. The handful of drow patrolling the perimeter were rushing toward the gruesome scene to investigate, their weapons drawn. Quin noted that a few of them had crossbows. Hopefully Feral could dodge bolts. As it appeared, he could not only dodge them, but he could also use them to his advantage.

As a drow leveled his crossbow on Feral, the cat-bear darted behind another drow as the bolt was loosed. There was a cry of pain as Feral's shield fell back, clutching his leg.

Quin grinned and moved around the tree a bit to get a view of the entrance to the temple. The two drow guarding the door were staring in Feral's direction, talking to each other, but they had yet to move from their post, and after a few moments of waiting, Quin had a bad feeling they weren't going to.

"Damn." he muttered under his breath.

The halfling moved from his cover, keeping low to the ground, and headed for a tree that was closer to the temple entrance. He peered around it to see the two drow still looking off toward the commotion. It appeared the other drow were having some difficulty fighting with Feral. The archway blocked most of Quin's view now, but what he could see was a few drow flailing about, trying to avoid attacks, either from Feral or each other. Eventually, Feral was going to grow tired. Quin had to hurry.

He searched the ground for something blunt and found a good sized rock half-buried in the ground. Quin bent and dug it out. It was easy with the ground wet. With the rock in tow, he moved out from his cover and into the clearing. As luck would have it, the drow guarding the door were still too immersed in what was going on near the archway to notice him. Quin inched his way closer, drew the rock up over his head with both hands and launched it.

The moment he heard the emphatic thud and saw one of the drow go down, Quin rushed for the stairs. They ascended over his height, so he was forced to leap through the air in order to reach the ledge. With the rain, Quin struggled to keep his grip on the ledge, but he eventually pulled himself over it. He got up just in time to see the last drow barreling in on him with his sword drawn.

Quin threw up his rapier to parry the incoming attack. When their blades came together, the drow effortlessly kicked Quin back. The halfling's foot slipped off one of the steps and he lost his balance. He rolled down a couple of steps before he finally got in a position to slow himself down. His side was aching, but nothing was broken.

The drow was already to him, a look of rage on his face. Before the halfling could move to get up, the drow's sword came down quick. Quin rolled to the side and barely missed being impaled. The tip of the blade clinked into the stone steps inches from him. Quin lifted a foot and slammed it into the drow's knee. It didn't break, but his kick did what he wanted it to do. When the drow landed hard on his hands and knees, Quin used both feet this time and launched him over the side of the stairs. It wasn't a long fall, but it would give Quin enough time to get to the temple doors.

The halfling got to his feet, holding his side, and hurried toward the enormous stone doors. The moment he reached them, a high-pitched howl rang out from somewhere behind him. The sound froze his heart; it had not come from any drow.

Quin spun around and saw the drow standing around something. He couldn't see what it was, but he didn't need to. He knew. Feral had lost his battle against the drow.

Anger and despair filled him. His eyes burned with tears and one hand clenched tight around the grip of his rapier and the other made a tight fist. As much as he would've liked to rush down those steps and slaughter the lot of them for what they'd done, he knew it would be foolish. He was outnumbered. If he got caught, Feral's fight and his death would all be in vain.

Quin turned away and shoved against the stone door until it opened. He peered inside first, a long dimly lit stone corridor greeting his sight and nothing else. As he made his way into the temple, Quin wondered how he would tell Jaelyn that her animal companion, her friend, was gone.

xxxxxxxxxx

Jaelyn wept for him. She yelled herself hoarse, trying to get the drow to stop, even knowing it was useless. She bargained and threatened to no avail until eventually, Bishop told her to shut up and stop wasting her breath.

She had no idea how long the drow had been torturing him.

There were no windows to the outside world to tell her how much time had passed. The only thing she knew was that seventeen torches had been exhausted since they started. She had no idea how long a torch burned for.

What felt like hours to her must have felt like days to Bishop. He endured everything they could think up using what equipment they had available, everything from cutting him up slowly, to shoving sharp, hot pins under his fingernails, and even dislocating one of his shoulders. She was surprised they hadn't resorted to breaking something at this point.

To the drows' frustration and to Jaelyn's utter shock, he never made a sound, not even when they stabbed into his body that same drow poison he had endured before when they had gotten ambushed by the drow in the forest. He grimaced, grit his teeth, convulsed with the poison's searing passage through his veins, and nearly blacked out once, but he never cried out in his agony. This was a strength that had not been in him before, for Jaelyn remembered the effect that poison had on him. He was fiercely determined not to give them what they wanted. Regardless of his iron will, he was only human; how much more could one man take before he shattered?

With tear blurred eyes, she watched him through the bars of her cell. He was bruised up and bleeding in several different places, perspiring from the pain and the efforts of keeping himself from breaking, and though his entire body was tense, he was trembling. He was barely conscious, his eyes half-lidded and his breathing slow.

The drow succeeded in one thing. They had weakened him physically. Mentally, they had yet to touch him at all. Jaelyn wondered what was going through his head, what thought, what memory, what idea, if anything, was keeping him alive. Perhaps it was simply the desire to survive.

One drow hovered over him. The other was preparing something, but Jaelyn couldn't see what it was.

"Why do you fight it?" the drow asked him. "In the end, you will die. And so will she."

Jaelyn was surprised when there was no cutting barb or retort from the ranger. Either he didn't have the strength to speak or he was determined not to let the drow get to him.

"We should just kill him now." the other drow said. "This is a waste of time."

Jaelyn stared at him. That was an odd statement for a drow to make. They loved torturing others; it gave them pleasure.

His comrade glared at him. "Our orders are to torture him until he screams. Dresmor would be...displeased if we killed him before that. You know this."

"Do you always do what Dresmor tells you to?" Jaelyn spoke.

The drow near Bishop looked over at her with a sneer. "He is our leader."

"He is a tyrant." Jaelyn corrected. "There's a difference. A true leader doesn't kill off his own."

"What would you know about it? Dresmor does what he must do. Those who fail are weak. They must be eliminated. We will not survive the coming war with weak soldiers."

"Weak? The natives on this island are inexperienced in battle. It would not take much to defeat them, as much as it pains me to admit it." Jaelyn replied with a frown.

"Natives?" the drow laughed. "It is not a war with the natives that I speak of."

Jaelyn blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"Enough!" the other drow interjected, glaring at his comrade. "Don't speak another word, fool!"

His comrade rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter whether she knows or not. She cannot stop it. No one can."

"What do you mean?" Jaelyn asked.

The drow stepped away from the rack and approached the bars of her cell. He peered in at her with a smirk.

"Dresmor intends to return the Underdark." he said.

"After all the trouble it took to escape it? Why?"

"To invade and conquer it. To purge it of the matron mothers. With them out of the way, it will make it easier to take control. Those who refuse to join him will be purged as well."

Jaelyn shook her head. "Conquer the Underdark? But why bother? There's nothing there. It's just a cesspit of evil."

The male drow shook his head with a smirk. "The claiming of the Underdark is just a small part of a much greater plan. It is merely a resource, where our army will gain more numbers. Then when our army has grown to its maximum strength, we will storm the surface and destroy our enemies and any allied with them."

"Enemies?"

The drow shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. "The elves of the surface."

Jaelyn's eyes grew wide. "But...that's insanity! Dresmor can't possibly wipe out the matron mothers, let alone all the surface elves."

The drow smirked. "That's where you're wrong. The magic at the heart of this island will give us a strong advantage over the matron mothers and the rest of the Underdark. If they don't stand a chance, neither will the surface elves."

"Why are you so sure? You can't know how powerful the magic of this island is."

"No? We know the magic is the reason why the island is 'alive', why it moves. Magic that can move land is undoubtedly potent. And Dresmor intends to harness it."

"How?"

"He...inherited from his ancestors a spell that can absorb a limited amount of magic from any magic source and transfer it to any intended target. He will absorb that little pool of magic and transfer it to himself and to us. And then...there will be no stopping us."

Jaelyn shook her head in disbelief. "Yes, there will. And you'll do it yourselves. You can't absorb magic like that, it'll kill you. What Dresmor plans to do, it's suicide."

The drow smiled. "That's why he intends to test it out first."

"How?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Jaelyn heard Dresmor's voice, then, inside her head. It was something he said before...

...as soon as you've outlived your purpose.

"Me? He intends to use me to test it out? That's why he had me brought here."

The drow gave his hands a few mock claps. "Very good."

Jaelyn smiled, darkly. "And if it works, I can use that magic to destroy him...and the rest of you."

The drow laughed. "If you can cast magic. You're a ranger. Any spells you can cast comes directly from your deity or nature spirits. Quite different from casting from the Weave. Besides, once we're done with your companion over there, I doubt you'll have any fight left in you. You may even come to thank Dresmor. He'll be doing you a favor by killing you."

"No, he'll be doing all of you a favor." she growled at him. "If my friend dies, nothing will get in my way of destroying every last one of you."

"We're about to see if that's true or not."

The drow stepped away from Jaelyn's cell and went back to the ranger, only to find that he had lost consciousness sometime during the conversation with Jaelyn.

The drow scoffed. "Humans are so weak."

He backhanded Bishop across the face a few times to bring him around. Eventually, the ranger opened his eyes, looked around, and realized he was still in hell.

His mouth slowly curved into a tired smile and he was able to gather enough strength to speak in his well known sarcastic manner.

"Dozed off there for a minute. So, when's the real torture going to start?"

His comment might have had more impact if his voice didn't sound strained and exhausted.

The drow leaned over him, smirking malevolently. "Tired, are you? Don't worry, human, your sleep is about to be permanent."

His comrade turned to him then. "I thought you were going to torture him until he screamed?"

The drow shrugged. "I don't care if he screams. I want to hear her scream. I want her to watch him die slowly."

There was a violent rattling of chains from the cell and they both glanced at Jaelyn. Her face was hard and determined. Though there was a fury in her like she'd never felt, it was focused and it somehow strengthened her.

Or maybe she just wanted to think it did, for the next time she jerked her chains, the stone around where the hook her chains were linked to began to crack. A few pebbles broke off and landed on the floor. She gave a growl of effort when she pulled them again and the hook began loosening from the wall.

The drow hovering over Bishop turned fully to see what she was doing. He noted the hook near to coming out of the wall. Even if she broke it, it wouldn't free her completely. Her wrists and ankles would still be shackled, but she would be free to move about her cell, and Dresmor would wonder why.

The drow gestured to his comrade. "Deal with her."

He nodded and hurried to the cell, unlocking it. The moment he stepped in, the door to the chamber swung open.

They all stopped to see who it was. It was not who they had expected.