It seemed to take Imoen an age to fall. Her body thudded against the ground with a horrible finality.
Rasaad stared at it, pain etched across his face. Yoshimo started to breathe again. Dorn and Jaheira wore satisfied expressions, though for very different reasons. With incredible stealth for a man of his size, the half-orc slipped out of the door.
Anomen was looking at Arowan almost pityingly, for he too had once slain innocents in a moment of madness. Viconia was watching the ranger with calculating ruby eyes. For the first time in the whole of their acquaintance there was a glimmer of something approaching respect.
Only two of them were moving. Arowan was already drawing another arrow, while Sarevok seized the sword from Imoen's body. The ranger would get one shot before he reached the door. He fancied his chances.
Yoshimo snatched up his katana and charged at Sarevok with a ferocity that they had never seen the good-humoured thief display before.
"Tamoko sends her regards you bastard!" he bellowed.
The naked warrior, who was already halfway to the door, parried him easily and sent him sprawling. Arowan's next arrow burned into his chest, and with no armour to block it the injury was obscenely painful even to a being of his power. Anomen was already after him. The Helmite may have been ready to save Imoen, and he fully intended to have words with Arowan about her death later, but there was no doubt as to what needed to be done about Sarevok.
Still comically unclothed, but with his deadly sword back in his possession at last, he sprinted away from them. Leaping the steps four at a time without the least notion of where he was going, he barged past the confused asylum inmates who were meandering out over the golden carpet.
"Get out of here, your jailors are all dead!" Arowan hollered at the incarcerated mages as she hurtled past them. "Run, before the Cowled Wizards come back!"
Sarevok reached the swirling blue portal and dived through it, having little choice. Yoshimo and Arowan were halfway toward it when each felt a hand on their arm. Viconia was trying to pull them back.
"Damn you!" spat Arowan and, forgetting that the gods would not permit the drow to die, turned her arrow upon Viconia.
"Hold it! Look where you're about to go!" the drow screeched, pointing. "That portal does not lead to Athkatla anymore!"
She was right. It was as dark as Irenicus's abandoned lair, but vaster and more feral. Stalactites the size of mountains hung from high above, illuminated by fluorescent algae that grew all over them. There was a grunt behind them, announcing that Dorn had reappeared.
"Where did you go?" Jaheira snapped.
"I retrieved this from the necromancer's corpse," Dorn grinned unpleasantly. He was holding up a ring set with two odd grey stones flecked with green. Arowan looked at it and flinched. "It belonged to your brother after all. I think you should have it."
"So that I can inherit Bubbles's geas?" Arowan sneered. "Nice try."
"My patron informs me that the geas is broken and gone Little Lamb, but Eric's dark power remains," Dorn rumbled, holding it out to her. "It is yours now."
"Oh well, if a demon says that it's safe to wear it then I can't wait to try it on," Arowan replied sarcastically.
"Only a fool would refuse such power," Dorn growled disapprovingly. "If I were you, I would relish this gift."
That made the ranger think twice. She held out her palm for Eric's ring and pocketed it quickly, but only to prevent Dorn from claiming it for himself. Beside her, Yoshimo began to look uncomfortable again, and her face contorted with alarm.
"We have to find Sarevok," she said urgently. "No matter what lies in this accursed cave."
"It's not a cave!" Viconia beseeched them, but they had already stepped through it and the others were following. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and followed them in. When she opened them she was home. "Welcome to the Underdark."
The great depths of the Underdark stretched out before them, and as their eyes adjusted to the dim light the reality of where they were began to sink in. Behind them stood the portal, but Yoshimo was bound by the geas until Sarevok died. They had no option but to go on.
"Viconia?" Jaheira found herself asking the drow's advice for the first time. "What do we do?"
"Die probably," the Sharran replied, though without conviction. Last time she had fled the Underdark alone and powerless. Now she had Rasaad, Dorn Il-Khan was with them, she was the Servant of all Faiths and once Sarevok was slaughtered they had an easy way out. She went on with more confidence, "We must tread with caution. Doubtless there are drow in this place alongside illithids, kuo-toa, beholders and perhaps even worse. The denizens here will expect no mercy and will offer none. If we are to survive long enough to find your Sarevok we must be stronger than any of them."
Treading with caution was not a luxury that Sarevok could afford. He had fled this way and that, losing himself but also his enemies amidst the cold rocky stalagmites. Something was dripping. He looked around for the source. The distraction cost him, for he ran straight into the web of a giant spider.
The silk was sticky but stronger than steel and he stuck fast. Wrenching and pulling at the threads only served to attract the creature's attention and it scuttled toward him, clicking its pincers excitedly. Concentrating all his effort into his sword arm, he managed to free it and hack at the arachnid.
It scampered back, watching him from a safe distance with its many eyes. Sarevok could not move his head so could only see the shadow of numerous legs scuttling at the edge of his vision. The spider had a rock-hard exoskeleton, but the sword of Bhaal was no common weapon.
The spider had stopped moving. It seemed content to wait for him to wear himself out struggling against the web. Only when he began to slice through the silk that he could reach (a feat no standard blade could have managed) did the creature change its mind. It lunged for Sarevok's immobile side, pincers opened wide, but he swung himself in a backward arc and struck it back-handed. His sword smacked it on the head and it retreated slightly, giving him time to hack loose a few more strands.
Perhaps he ought to have been petrified, but it felt good to finally confront an enemy against which he could fight back. He was exhausted and drained of his god-essence, but he was also alive again and he felt it!
Chopping himself loose, he tumbled to the floor, trying to rid himself of the shreds of spider silk that were impeding his movement. The spider, enraged at the sight of her spoiled web, made one last attempt on him. He ducked beneath the eight spindly legs and rammed his blade into her underbelly, where carapace and abdomen joined. The creature collapsed on top of him, but he kicked it off, wrenching out his blade.
The spider was injured and on its back, flailing desperately to right itself. He was about to finish it off for good when an angry murmuring came from the shadows, and Sarevok got the feeling that his fight was not over yet. Sure enough, a drow flanked by her two males emerged from the shadows wielding adamantine swords. They were speaking to him. He did not understand the words, but he had gloated his way through enough 'you're about to die' speeches to know one when he heard one.
"We'll see little elf. We'll see," Sarevok muttered.
He swung at her and she blocked his stroke, but it did not matter. Such was the difference in size and strength between them that he knocked her sword clean out of her hand and sent it clattering away into the darkness. She narrowed purple eyes at him and ran away, shouting an order to her escort as she did so.
"Xas Phaere," they replied.
The remaining drow were no match for Sarevok either, but it was clear that they feared their mistress far more than merely dying. So they fought on without her. One of the males tried to intimidate him by performing a sort of spinning sword dance before attacking. This achieved nothing more than to earn a swipe to the sword arm.
The drow screamed in agony. Sarevok hastily ran him through, but not before the echoing screams must have been heard by every hostile creature in the cavern, including his pursuers.
That ranger, he recalled now, was a Bhaalspawn. How could he have forgotten her? Easily. She was an ordinary looking little mouse with an unmemorable face. Or at least he had thought so at the time, during their brief encounter when Irenicus had brought him into the Candlekeep Bhaalspawns' dreams. He had been so preoccupied with Freya that he had barely noticed her. Something had changed in the weaker sister, and not just that she was catching up in charisma. The cold-blooded murder of their sister Imoen was not an act he would have predicted from her.
That meant that the drow with her must be Viconia, the Servant of all Faiths. Courtesy of Amauna, all of the dead Bhaalspawn knew who she was. He must be careful not to harm her.
Spider was up and about again. The last remaining drow had taken advantage of his distraction to flip it back onto its legs. Alas, this did not have the effect that he had intended. Swivelling its multiple eyes from one piece of meat to the next, the spider decided to settle for the easiest meal. It scooped up the armless, dying drow and carried him up the wall, where it could watch the show while it ate. His blood dripped like red rain over Sarevok and the last drow.
Sensing that the end was near, the drow began to talk quickly. Perhaps attempting to reason with Sarevok, whom he must believe to be an escaped slave. Maybe he was making an offer. Whatever he was saying, the Bhaalspawn neither understood nor cared. His slashing sword met with feeble resistance, and the other man's neck opened for him with a satisfying squirt.
Arowan and the others would be coming, but he was still unclothed and it was cold down here. Already his bare feet were blistered and bleeding from running over barren rock. There was no point escaping them only to freeze to death in his sleep. He hastily undressed the drow and forced on his clothes and armour. It was not easy. He was much bigger than the dark elf and he could fasten only one clasp of the armour. It crushed him like a lady's corset, but some protection was better than none.
It had lost him precious time though. By the time he had crammed his foot into the second boot, the party were upon him and it was obvious that the ranger would show him no more mercy than she had their sister. The armour, shield and helmet he had scavenged from the drow, however uncomfortable, were adamantine and her arrows could not pierce it.
The Kara-Turan thief who had invoked Tamoko's name, was skewered by Sarevok's blade in seconds. Arowan screamed louder than the drow who'd lost an arm, much to Viconia's dismay. The ranger seemed to forget about Sarevok as she raced to Yoshimo's side.
"I will heal him. I will heal him rivvil but you must shut up!" the drow was pleading urgently. "There is more down here than just Irenicus and Sarevok. Screaming is a sign of weakness, you will bring down every predator for miles. For Shar's sake somebody shut her up! Jaheira!"
Arowan suddenly found her mouth muffled by something thick and hairy. Jaheira had adopted her bear form and placed her thick arm firmly over her mouth and nose. Eventually she was forced to stop screaming, for she had run out of air, and Jaheira relaxed her grip just enough to let her breathe.
Sarevok was not out of danger yet. There were still the three men to contend with. He did not much like the looks of the half-orc in particular.
"Why do you follow such a feeble ranger, Blackguard?" he challenged him desperately. "Surely it would make more sense to ally yourself to the stronger Bhaalspawn?"
"You are no Bhaalspawn at all! Not anymore!" Dorn laughed.
"I will retrieve my soul from Irenicus," Sarevok growled. "With or without your help."
Rancor clashed into Bhaal's blade with a sound like a gong ringing. The force of the collision vibrated down Sarevok's whole arm. The pair tussled back and forth as Yoshimo groaned on the ground, but neither could get in a clear shot. It would have been an even match were it not for the presence of Anomen and Rasaad.
How the monk was striking at adamantine armour so hard without injuring his bare knuckles, Sarevok could not fathom, but the pain grew harder to ignore with each passing moment. Anomen's mace smashed down over his skull, his vision swam but as he stumbled he saw three blurred Arowans raising three identical fire arrows.
A colossal burst of wind erupted from nowhere, and all of the fighters were blown backward against the walls of the cavern. Sarevok shook his aching head to see a pure silver dragon beating her wings, hovering and landing on the ground between them. The creature was so lovely that if Irenicus had not stolen his soul, she might have done.
"And what have we here?" she asked in a high, melodic voice. The party gazed at her in awe. It was hard to believe that she and Firkraag were related species. This dragon had an aura of love and beauty which touched all of their hearts except Dorn's. "I am Adalon, guardian of this place. Long has it been 'ere I was charged with keeping the peace and many times since has it been disturbed, but never so loudly as this. Tell me, mortals, are you suicidal? For there are far quicker and less painful ways to go than what the drow of Urst Natha will subject you to when your noisy blundering brings their wrath upon you."
"I have done nothing to breech your peace, silver lady!" Sarevok cried, clutching at his chance to escape. "These cowards set upon me six against one."
"Be silent! I care not!" said the dragon imperiously. "I will tell you when you may speak. I seek your aid in a very important matter. In return I will provide you with a way to the surface and disguises which may prevent you from being murdered on sight."
"We have a path back to the surface, lizard," growled Dorn. "And you stand between me and my prey."
"Dorn, do keep quiet!" Jaheira snapped. "My lady Adalon, please speak."
"If you refer to Irenicus's portal, you do not have a way back. I have just destroyed it. An unfortunate necessity, but I cannot permit you to leave until you have aided me. A great crime has been committed," Adalon told them, stretching her shining wings as she spoke. "My eggs have been stolen by the drow of this city."
"An abominable crime!" spat Jaheira. "Anything that we can do to assist you, you have but to say the word."
Anomen nodded vigorously. There was part of him which, for all his denial, still yearned for chivalry. There was no being purer nor more noble than a silver dragon, and no quest more righteous than to rescue a clutch of one's eggs.
"There is. However in order for you to understand what you must do, I shall have to give you some context," the dragon replied. "Above us lie the ruins of an ancient temple. The temple above and Urst Natha below mark the place where the drow first descended into the Underdark. The drow of Urst Natha and the surface elves of Suldanessellar are in a state of perpetual war, or would be were it not for my influence."
A drow city, Dorn Il-Khan, Anomen and now an army of surface elves. All the ingredients for the evil visions that Ur-Gothoz had shown Arowan were in place, and yet the ranger was barely listening. Viconia had healed Yoshimo but he still looked groggy. She could not bring herself to care anymore for a city of strangers, nor for a clutch of eggs. Not while Yoshimo's geas was slowly draining him of life. All she wanted was for the dragon to stop talking and let them get on with sending Sarevok back to the afterlife. Then they could deal with everything else.
"Recently a pair of surfacers, Bodhi and Jon Irenicus, have been visiting the city and speaking to the Matron Mother Ardulace. I believe that they have formed an alliance to strike together at their mutual enemy, the city of Suldanessellar."
"They'll lose," Arowan said vaguely. She knew. She had seen it. Adalon cocked her lizard-like head to one side and gave the Bhaalspawn a peculiar, piercing look.
"Yes," the dragon nodded slowly. "Yes, I believe they will… unless the Servant of all Faiths can prevent it in time… but the fate of Urst Natha no longer interests me. Not after what they have conspired to do! The creature Irenicus violated my lair and stole my eggs. I have been informed that to intervene in the coming war will result in their destruction. It is the final straw in a long list of atrocities that I have born witness to."
"What would you have us do?" asked Rasaad.
"You will enter the city with subtlety, taking the form of a party of drow whom I have recently dispatched," Adalon replied, inspecting her talons. "I will transform you and you will pass through the city with ease. None shall see through my deception unless you break it yourselves. You will also have knowledge of the language of drow, and your speech will be heard as though you have spoken the dark tongue all your life. Go now and retrieve my eggs by whatever means necessary."
"No!" Arowan cried. Jaheira rounded on her furiously.
"Hold your tongue child!"
"Please Lady Adalon," Arowan begged. "This man Sarevok is a mass murderer, brought back from the dead with powerful evil necromancy. My husband is under a geas to slay him. Let us finish this fight and then we will do whatever you ask."
Even if that meant bringing Anomen and Dorn into the drow city.
The dragon dipped her head to peer more closely at her. Adalon's long neck was like a waterfall of silver, covered in shimmery scaly droplets. She was a creature beautiful beyond measure and yet there was something about the way she looked at her that Arowan did not like. It reminded her of the expression the faerie queen had worn when they returned the dryads' acorns. Adalon reached out her talon and stroked the back of her silver claws thoughtfully over the ranger's bow.
"No, huntress," she said coldly. "I have a better idea. I will keep Sarevok here with me. Return my eggs to me and he is yours to slaughter."
"I have studied your ilk!" Sarevok objected forcefully, as great scaly talons closed about him. "Silver dragons are not supposed to behave in this manner! Release me!"
"You will find me less tolerant than others of my kind," Adalon replied, preparing to carry him away to her lair. There was a dazzling flash of light. "There, it is done. You now resemble denizens of the drow city with a house insignia that will not draw undue attention. I suggest you act like drow when speaking to anyone you meet."
Arowan looked down at her hands. They had changed colour. Her ears felt strange and prickly, and when her hands flew to them she realised that they had lengthened and pointed. She lifted her ponytail to find silver waves instead of her usual brown. A quick look about her told her that aside from Sarevok, who was being hauled away in the dragon's grasp, the others had changed too.
Rasaad's tattoos had morphed from swirls into ugly, spindly spiders. Like the rest of them he had lost some height, and some of his muscle mass, though he was still exceptionally large for a drow. Jaheira still looked like herself, but stared out at Arowan with deep maroon eyes. Even her wig had changed colour. As a drow she looked more haughty and imperious than ever.
Her husband, fully recovered, was getting to his feet. He was inspecting his new body with amusement. His features had changed the most apart from Dorn's. He barely even looked like himself, but the twinkle in his eyes had stayed. Retrieving the eggs would result in Sarevok's death and that, for now, seemed to satisfy the geas.
"It will be most interesting to enter a drow city," he said enthusiastically. "Few surfacers have ever done so."
"Legions have done so," corrected Dorn Il-Khan. "Few have left again. Why are you smirking at me ranger?"
Arowan was smiling at Anomen and Dorn because their appearance reassured her a little. In her visions of the destruction of the city, neither man had been in drow form. So long as they remained like this, she reasoned, they were in no immediate danger. Besides Adalon had strongly implied that it was possible for the Servant of all Faiths to prevent the sacking of the city.
"What about me?" Viconia cried after Adalon. "I will be recognized for certain!"
"I don't think you will," Jaheira smiled at her smugly. Arowan turned her attention to the only real drow in their party and her face split into a smile identical to her adopted mother's. Viconia suddenly looked very worried.
Her small drow-hands flew to her face, discovering a slightly larger nose and a stronger jawline. They ran frantically down the vertical sides of her body, then up to her chest, feeling for curves that were no longer there. She looked down.
"No!" she howled. "NO!"
It was far deeper than her usual wail.
