Chapter 2

NOW

We stepped out into the stagnant cool air of Lith My'athar, my new companions, Valen and Nathyrra, close on my heels.

The muffled murmur that had permeated the Seer's temple was all around us now, interrupted only by the occasional shout and clash of weapons. The lack of alarm on my companions faces hinted at a far off training ground.

The darkness stretched out on all sides, the roof of the wide cavern too high for me to gauge the distance. As far as I could see, the cavern floor was studded with stalagmites and narrow pillars, all carved with etchings of spider's webbing along their height.

I fought the urge to fish through my pack for my torch, wary of what the quick-to-judge denizens of the city — all with ample darkvision — would think of their prophetical saviour then. No; I'd have to content myself to almost total darkness until I found a merchant willing to trade with us.

My only light source came from the fires of a forge to my left and the low purple glow of small scattered stones which dotted the pillars like tiny spider's eyes.

"Faerzress," Nathyrra's voice interrupted my inspection of the drow city. I stepped down the temples carved stone stairs, eyes on the sure-footed drow. She motioned to the glowing pillars. "A magical energy which pervades much of the Underdark." She shrugged. "The origin is unknown, but it hinders our enemies from scrying or teleporting within the city limits."

I nodded once, just happy for a light source. I wouldn't make for an overly heroic visage tumbling down the temple's stairs.

"That Halaster could teleport you both from Undermountain to within the Seer's temple speaks lengths of his strength," Valen mused from my right.

I scoffed at the mention of the Mad Mage. "That he couldn't just help us kill the Valsharess — instead of putting a bloody geas on me — speaks lengths of his laziness." I itched my arm as I spoke.

I swear the geas was making my skin tingle every time her name was mentioned…

He hummed in agreement. "It is a shame that he cursed you so. Chains — even those that the eye can't see — are hardly a way to spark loyalty to a cause." I suspected he spoke from his own experience, but the warning to his tone alleviated all sympathy I felt for the tiefling.

I offered no further response. No point getting annoyed with the stubborn redhead; he would either learn to trust me or I wouldn't have to worry about him for long. Either way, time was the cure.

In silence, Nathyrra led us toward a heavily robed drow male in the elaborate style of the Underdark. He stood by the only fully stocked stall, a dour expression on his thin-lipped face. His cart was lit by more of the glowing purple crystals — the faerzress, I reminded myself.

"Gulhrys, house Mae'Viir's High Wizard," Nathyrra informed me, upon our approach.

Just who I was after.

The wizard gave me a scornful glance, before turning his attention to Nathyrra. She tilted her head at me as if to say well get on with it.

We traded for some time in clipped words, exchanging everything we wouldn't desperately need for the first part of our trip, for a slowly growing pile of gold. Once happy enough with said pile, I purchased some Boots of Striding — loosening the straps for my wider human calves — and a few enchanted arrows and potions. I bid farewell to my old trusty boots and passed them to the wizard for disposal. As I did so, I queried after anything that would help me see in the dark.

"We cater to the inhabitants of the Underdark," he cleaned his nails as we spoke, inattentive in a way he hadn't been with Nathyrra. "Nightvision is as common as a poisoned blade, in these depths," he shrugged, unapologetic.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration, glancing over my hand at Nathyrra with raised brows. Without sight, I was going to be visiting the Reaper a lot sooner and more frequently than I would have liked.

It was Valen who saved me from my spiraling thoughts. "Rizolvir," he stated. I searched my mind for why that name sounded familiar. "He can imbue something of yours with enchantments to light your path. At least until we find a better alternative."

Then it clicked. Rizolvir; the city's smith.

I grabbed what was left of my gold and the wizard returned to his stall with a lazy roll of his ruby red eyes.

Mind made up, I fished a stone from a pocket at my belt. I held it out for them to inspect as we followed Valen to the glowing embers of the forge. It was smooth and yellow, the size of my palm. It shone from within when I rubbed a finger across its surface.

I gave Valen an apologetically wan smile. "It's going to turn me into a beacon and make me an easy target out there. Not to mention it will affect yours and Nathyrra's natural sight," I shrugged. "But, it's a hell of a lot better than being a blind target."

Valen inspected the stone with minor curiosity before handing it back to me.

"I found it in Undermountain," I explained to fill the silence. "Helped me see in the darker areas. It did shit my companion at the time, Dealan," I gave a bittersweet smile, "up the wall. Was hoping for an upgrade."

Following the warm glow of the forge, we approached a ring of dull red runes. The scrawl lead to the forge itself, the magical language encircling the stone masterpiece. It was carved out of a pillar and was scattered with more of the glowing purple faerzress.

A young drow sat cross-legged on a large petrified mushroom, oiling a longsword with practiced ease. He wore simple garbs and looked to his companion for direction upon our approach. The other drow stood before the forge, a fine chainmail shirt fitted over a flashy silk tunic and leather breeches.

He looked up from his work, his already dark face streaked with soot and sweat. Rubbing the back of a hand over his forehead, he stood to his full height, stretching his unusually large shoulders.

"Valen," he nodded at the tiefling with an air of familiarity.

The drow looked me up and down before offering a small smile.

"So, you're the surfacer the Seer's been waiting for, aren't you?" Well, I certainly haven't seen any other humans in this city, so far. "I was wondering how long until you wandered over my way." He nodded deeply. "My names Rizolvir, master craftsman and weaponsmith extraordinaire. Pleased to meet you, surfacer."

I smiled at his unexpectedly welcoming tone.

"If there's anything you need, I'm here to help. Feel free to look over my wares. Or, if you want, I could upgrade your weapon for you." He peered over my shoulder at Enserric's pommel with a gleam in his eye.

I could feel the sentient longsword's prickling curiosity in the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside.

Next time.

'Cheapskate', he seethed in my mind.

Instead, I held forward the yellow stone for the drow to see. "Actually, was hoping you could imbue the power of this stone into my armor."

He smiled warmly at my request. "That I can," he plucked the stone from my palm and gave it a rudimentary once over.

Next, he requested my quiver, much to my surprise.

I quickly unbuckled the strap across my chest and passed it to him, mindful of the arrows within. He deftly removed the length of leather, propping the quiver against a carved stool of rock. He ran the strap through his hands, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I'll place it here," he pointed a long finger to the middle of the strap, "and you'll have a cone of dull light directly in front of you," he explained, squinting his eyes against the brightness. "I'll also work with Gulhrys," he gave an open grimace, "to have the stone's light changed from yellow to green. It will affect Nathyrra and Valen's eyesight less drastically."

I shrugged, "Sounds good to me."

I passed him a reasonable amount of gold and he organised with his apprentice to have it delivered directly to the Seer's temple at the 'beginning of the next cycle'. Whatever that meant.

We parted ways with another deep nod.

Equipment sorted for now.

Sanctioned murder next…

As we turned away from the forge, I caught Valen's attention. I raised an eyebrow and made a drinking motion near my mouth.

I was met with a moment of confusion, before he offered me a bemused expression — as if to say 'ready for a break, already?'

After a moment of consideration, he tilted his head back in the direction we'd come from.

I knew Valen and Nathyrra would have an issue with what I was going to do, but I'd already decided it was best to deal with the drow that wanted to betray the Seer right from the get-go.

Who knows what information she's been feeding to the Valsharess…

"I want to see what the moral is like around here," I offered to the silence in explanation, as we started towards our next destination.

Valen offered a gruff grunt of acknowledgment. Nathyrra was silent, her eyes sharp and hard, but showed no other sign of having heard me.

As we passed the Seer's temple, the smell of animals grew stronger. I strained my eyes but saw no sign of livestock given my small bubble of vision. There should be some deep rothe around here somewhere… I felt a moment of pleasure at remembering the drow's animals names. Whether the information was important or not, I couldn't quite remember…

I could faintly hear water lapping when we approached a massive squat formation of stalagmites, every inch of the rock purposefully carved into patterned spires, which reached up into the darkness. Valen quickly approached the building's door, identifiable from the dull purple glow that escaped from around the hinges.

He pushed open the thick door, "House Mae'Viir's Public House" he stated with an exaggerated flourish — smart arse — before stepping aside to grant me and Nathyrra easy entry.

Surprisingly, the inside of the pub wasn't much louder than the streets outside, though it was infinitely easier to see.

It was the sights within which stopped me dead in my tracks. I'd never seen anything like it.

Where the Seer's repurposed temple was dark and hard, this building was beautiful in a distinctly non-human way. A glowing stalactite jutted from the middle of the ceiling, emitting a purple haze. It's natural light covered every inch of the place in the light, bouncing off the cool polished stone of the walls and floor. Dark purple glyphs marked the floor in delicate whorls, directing the eyes' attention to a small body of water directly below the stalactite. Small rings formed in the pool's reflective surface, water dripping slowly from the glowing formation above.

A drow woman — her back to us — sat at the edge of the pool, her bare legs submerged in the water.

Books of all colours — more than I could ever hope to read during my stay in the drow city — lined the far wall, slotting into purposeful alcoves in the stone. Near them, drow of both genders milled about. Some lounged upon a cushion covered bench carved into one of the walls, sipping from fine goblets. Others perused the books on display in silence. The majority whispered orders to the grey coloured drow that tended the bar.

A group of heavily armed guards watched our entrance — the only inhabitants of the room that wasn't at ease.

This oasis of glamour and beauty, amidst the doom and dread of the Underdark, was definitely not what I'd been expecting.

The young drow by the pool had shifted to watch us at some point, her narrowed eyes reflecting the purple haze of the room. She wore a thin white shift — did she know it was almost completely see-through? — and every inch of her arms was adorned with gold bracelets of varying thicknesses. A high slit up the side allowed her to sit by the water's edge without wetting her clothes. Her long snow-white hair was pulled back in an intricate web of plaits, lengths of pliable gold and gleaming stones woven around the crown of her head.

Despite her rather underdressed appearance, she was obviously a noble — and no mere noble if the air of arrogant confidence she exuded was anything to go by. The four guards — her guards — stood at full attention upon our inspection of each other.

I think this is who I was looking for.

"Zesyyr Mae'Viir," Nathyrra softly whispered from my side, a hint of warning to her tone.

Conscious of the number of guards by the young drow's side, I slowly approached.

A sly smile curved her lips.

Her voice was sharp; "So you're the rivvil that the Seer has put her faith in? My name is Zesyyr… only daughter and sole surviving heir to Matron Myrune of House Mae'Viir. I was hoping you would come and see me."

I raised a brow but forced myself to say nothing.

"I have an offer for you," she drew her attention back to the water, kicking her feet gently through the pool's unknown depths. "It would have drawn too much attention if I had sent someone to fetch you. How fortunate that you have found yourself here. And here so soon…"

"Can't have your mother know we're meeting," I nodded in understanding. "What would she think?"

I felt Nathyrra stiffen beside me.

At my words, Zesyyr threw her head back in sudden laughter, a light sound so out of place in the quiet room. Nobody turned to watch, confirming my suspicion that these were her people. Her mother had already begun to lose control.

"Our house has fallen on hard times. My mother has brought us to the brink of destruction," she explained. "Many believe it is time for a change. Many believe I should lead." She turned her head back to watch for my reaction, her eyes narrowed and white eyebrow raised in challenge. "Of course, my mother is no fool. She understands the danger I represent, which is why she has banished me from her tower. She believes she is safe behind her high walls." Another smile.

Nathyrra stepped forward, disgust clear on her delicate features. "Obviously she isn't as safe as she believes." She paused, glancing at me briefly before turning her full attention to the conspiring daughter. "I know this is how we were brought up, but there is another path you can take. One that isn't fraught with betrayal and death. Eilistraee can—"

Zesyyr's face was as hard as the stone around us. "Don't throw your god in my face! We can't all run away to the surface; some of us have to survive in our homeland. And that means plotting to ensure our future." Her eyes snapped back to me, feral in the dim purple light. "I have more support in this than she knows. All I need to complete my coup is an assassin powerful enough to kill her and her bodyguards."

I shifted my feet, returning the challenge in her gaze with as much confidence as I could muster.

Valen shook his head in disgust. "These are the kinds of allies we are counting on to stand with us against the Valsharess?" I felt him watching me carefully.

I clenched my fists. This is the right choice. I silently reminded myself in response to Nathyrra and Valen's open disgust.

"Do not listen to their delusional ideals, rivvil. Not until you hear the entire story," Zesyyr admonished, rolling her eyes lazily in my direction.

She pulled her legs from the water, ebony skin glistening as she stood to her full height. She took a step towards me, pausing a few feet from us only when Valen's hand shifted to his flail's pommel.

She raised a perfectly curved brow. "I know my mother," she purred. "She does not believe that we can defeat the Valsharess, and she is afraid. Do you really believe she will fight by the Seer's side when the Valsharess attacks?" She cut an arm through the air, shaking her head. "She will betray you the first chance she gets."

"And you?" I pressed.

She smiled. "I actually believe we can defeat the Valsharess. I will not turn my back on my allies at the first sign of trouble."

But possibly the second sign of trouble…

"And why should I believe someone who is willing to have their own mother killed?" I already knew what I was going to do — I'd known what the right choice was from the beginning — but I'd found myself unwilling to let myself be seen by Valen and Nathyrra as cold.

Her grin widened, showing her perfect white teeth. She knew she had me. "My mother has lost all of her ambition; she would rather serve than die." She held a hand to her chest, bracelets jingling. "I have not. I will not bow so easily to our common enemy. Not when there is…" she floundered for the right word, before settling on; "hope."

We stared at each other for a beat.

"What do I need to do?" I finally asked.

THEN

We stared at each other for a beat.

The young woman looked like she'd come straight out of Robin Hood, sans the bright green tights. A large bird — An eagle? A hawk? — jumped from her forearm and took flight with one, two flaps of its giant wings.

I couldn't help but flinch away from the powerful creature, seconds too late to have done any good if it meant me harm. It was already a speck in the far-reaching sky, it's shrill screeching barely audible over the wind.

"Ho there," the young woman called to me, with a lifted hand.

She gave an easy smile, her tanned skin creasing around her eyes. Her raised hand and wrist were wrapped in a linen binding.

I released a relieved breath, stopping in my tracks.

We quietly took each other in.

She's a LARPer, I realised with sudden clarity, as I saw the array of ye olde weapons that adorn the young woman.

"I'm Jane," I eventually said, reaching out a hand.

I could feel my cheeks growing red at how stupid I sounded introducing myself in the middle of nowhere. With bare feet. To a LARPer.

"Emma," she replied, reaching forward and clasping my wrist. I patted her wrist awkwardly with my free hand, not expecting the unusual gesture.

She drew back and rested her hand casually on the hilt of one of the knives on her waist. She watched me silently.

She's gone to a fair bit of effort. I begrudgingly admired the details on the other woman's — Emma's — outfit.

Her pants were soft green cotton, thick brown stitching trailing down the outer sides. About mid-calf they tucked into the tops of her large brown boots, bits of grey and black fur peeking out from the tops. Leather straps wrapped around her ankle and heel, seemingly holding everything snug and in place. I couldn't see where the zips were hidden on them, not for lack of trying.

They look warm, I thought with a pang of jealousy as I wiggled some feeling back into my bare toes.

Up top, she wore a dark green leather vest over a cream cotton shirt, a crisscross of lacing down the front. It wasn't shiny pleather like my black party pants back at home — no; this was the real deal. Over the top of all of this was the most impressive part; a large green cloak, twisting into a knot at one side, as it blew about in the strong winds. Short brown feathers were stitched decoratively into the shoulders, and the wooden toggles all looked hand-made.

She was around my age — maybe younger. Somewhere in her early to mid-twenties.

She looked… ridiculous.

I chuckled and buried my face in a hand at the absurdity of it all.

Once I'd regained myself, I looked back up at Emma. She watched me with a small frown, friendly smile fading.

"Look, this is — well, I seem to be a bit… lost?" I admitted with a shrug and a self-deprecating smile. "Could you point me towards the nearest station?" At Emma's blank look I pushed on — less confident. I pulled my mobile out of my pocket and waved it in front of my face in a show of looking for reception. "Or could I borrow your phone? I don't seem to have any bars."

The other woman's smile seemed to freeze in place, her frown deepening.

"Lost, you say?" She shifted her weight, throwing her head over her right shoulder casually. "Nearest supply station is Silverymoon; about a day's walk — just came from there, myself." She eyed me up and down openly — from my raised eyebrow to my bare feet. "Was that where you were heading before you got turned around?" She dropped the smile and tilted her head in question.

What?

"Is this like a roleplaying thing you're doing?" I pressed after a moment of deliberation. "Is that what's happening?" I shook my head roughly, "Look, it's — it's fine; don't worry about it. Thanks anyways…" I trailed off uncomfortably, hoping she would feel silly and offer up some actual directions.

Giving up, I turned away from her and unlocked my phone again, pressing the emergency call button with a silly jolt of adrenaline. Before the phone was even flush with my ear I could hear the engaged noise. I hung up with a frown. I gave it a moment and then tried again with the same result.

The third time was not the charm.

With a sigh, I squared my shoulders and turned back at the other woman.

She watched with a curious tilt to her head and a wry smile on her lips.

"Look, I need to get home," I managed from between clenched teeth, "and my phone's not working." And you've really been no help, at all. "Can you point me to someone that will help, or, or — just the nearest road?"

Emma pointed back in the direction she had come from, "Silverymoon Pass' road is just over that hill."

I started walking past her and in that direction.

"Thanks again," I offered over my shoulder, eyes ahead.

Silverymoon Pass — Never heard of it. I pondered this as I braved the incline for the next minute, hand firmly pressed over my stitch. God, that cool air really does a number on your lungs.

More treetops popped up from behind the hill.

I can hear Emma — crazy LARPing Emma — following along a few feet behind me.

"I'm heading to Hilltop, myself," Emma piped up, too-cheerfully, from behind.

Hilltop…

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the 'road'. To call it a dirt track would still be a stretch.

The road was really just a noticeable lack of greenery, with a light scattering of stones. It wound its way around the edge of a forest. Eventually, it disappeared into the tree-line to my right, and wound out of sight, to my left.

Emma stopped just behind my right shoulder, motioning with her chin to our right. "Weather permitting, should be there in two days, maybe three if I keep getting distracted like I have been." She chuckled. "Really lost track of time in Silverymoon — I've never seen such a big city before. Thank the Gods I never wrote Drogan an exact date for my arrival."

Drogan…

I wrapped my arms around myself again, feeling each individual goosebump like a pinprick working its way into my bones.

There was some shuffling, and then Emma suddenly placed her big stupid cloak around my shoulders. She gave my shoulder a silent pat once it was in place, and — without another word — started down the hill.

Her big puffy sleeves looked ridiculous on her slight frame, blowing in the gentle breeze.

She angled right, towards the winding road.

I stared momentarily at her retreating back, and couldn't help but grab the edges of the cloak, pulling it around myself more tightly. I already felt the better for it.

For lack of anything else to do, I trailed after the crazy young woman.

Emma waited for me on the path.

As I approached, she kicked up a long narrow branch with practiced ease. She caught it in a one-handed grip with a cheeky grin. It was almost as tall as her.

She offered it silently to me, an expectant look on her face.

I guess I was following her…

Emma nodded in approval when I took the offered stick.

I let one end drop to the path with a dull thud.

Without any further ado, she pulled her pack higher onto her back and started walking. She watched me calmly over her shoulder, observing my approach as I hurried to walk by her side.

"So," she started. "Where on Faerun did you come from, dressed like that." She motioned me up and down with amazement. "And more importantly — how have your feet not dropped off?"

I clasped the stick in my hand like a walking staff, my knuckles almost as white as my face must have been. I blinked back at the strange woman.

Faerun…

Breathing through an exasperated sigh, I suddenly realised why those names were so familiar.

With a hissed curse and no further information, I followed Emma towards Hilltop.

Goddam bloody crazy shittin' LARPers!

I'd play along with her live D&D game until we got to 'Hilltop'. Then, I'd find a phone or a computer and figure out where the hell I was.

All I hoped was that her 'three days' was more like 'three hours'.

NOTEBOOK EXTRACT

A double page of Jane's messy handwriting underneath a crudely drawn map of the drow city Lith My'athar. Icons mark buildings of note.

Lith My'athar. Northern drow territory. Ruled by House Mae'Viir.

A little over a hundred residents. Mainly drow, mainly male. A couple of half-drow/half-human and deep gnomes - treated as second class citizens.

Temple of Lolth

Residents: the Seer - drow cleric (priestess of Eilistraee), Valen Shadowbreath - tiefling fighter and weapons master (heavy flail), Nathyrra - drow wizard, rogue and assassin, a handful of female drow (4?)

Regulars: Imloth - drow fighter (commander of the Seer's followers), a handful of male drow soldiers

Places of note: Main chamber, (lots of damaged statues), the Seer's quarters (locked), Valen's quarters (locked), Nathyrra's quarters (locked), my quarters (bed, basin, chest, tomb in common titled 'Northern Cities of Note'), spare room (unlocked, nothing of worth), library (shelves are empty, large brazier with ash), two bedrooms with four bunks each room (locked chests)

Misc: Repurposed to be a temple to Eilistraee. I think the layout is supposed to represent a spider, with the hallways coming off the main chamber representing legs… who knew there was such a thing as an evil architect?

House Mae'Viir's Public House

Residents: Zesyyr Mae'Viir - this is crossed out, male half-drow/half-human bartender

Regulars: Some followers of Eilistraee, mainly the city's original residents - all drow

Places of note: Bar (doesn't serve food to non-residents, does serve drinks)

Misc: Deep Abyssal Ale (3sp/jug), Mushroom tea (2sp/pitcher) - disgusting, barrelstalk gin (3sp/shot) - burns but non-offensive, violet mushroom liqueur (5sp/shot) - Nathyrra's favourite, Hivemind Twist cocktail (8sp) - looks… interesting

House Mae'Viir

Residents: Matron Myrune - this is crossed out, Captain Tebimar - this is also crossed out, Zesyyr Mae'Viir (new matron)

Regulars: Mae'Viir army (42 male drow soldiers, 2 male drow wizards, and 3 female drow priestesses of Lolth - according to Valen's census)

Lith My'athar's Public House

Residents: Matron Mother Brizafae (refugee, bitter. Nathyrra has 'people' keeping an eye on her, currently not a threat), 4 of Brizafae's male guards, Rizolvir, over 20 permanent drow tenants

Regulars: An equal split between followers of Eilistraee and the city's original residents - mainly drow, some deep gnomes (svirfneblin?)

Places of note: Bar (serves standard drinks and food), bath house (need to find some time to go), guests rooms (locked)

Misc: Rothe pies (3sp) - delicious, mosscakes (1sp/3 cakes) - Nathyrra said they keep for up to a week, sporebread (2sp)

Ale Gardens

Regulars: Imloth's soldiers and deep gnome waiters (saved one from drow who were plying him with too much Azure Wine)

Misc: Ale (2sp/jug) - looks like a normal pale ale, barrelstalk gin (3sp/shot), firelichen brandy (5sp/shot), Azure Wine (7sp/bottle) - Valen warned it causes hallucinations

The Forge and Armoury

This area is circled

Regulars: Rizolvir, male drow apprentice

Misc: 50,000gp to upgrade a weapon! What a rort

Market

This area is circled

Regulars: 2 disgruntled merchants selling food, Gulhrys (wizard)

Docks

Regulars: Cavallas the Boatman (big hooded cloak, glowing yellow eyes and skeletal hands), Boat (isn't tethered to the dock - is there such thing as a sentient boat?)

Misc: Valen said we can travel to the Mysterious Island (cursed winged elves and Mirror of All Seeing) or the Isle of the Maker (Potential golem allies - too tough)

Training Grounds

Regulars: Imloth, regular mix of all male soldiers

Misc: Looks like some of the soldiers camp there

Mae'Viir Training Grounds

Regulars: Mae'Viir Sergeant (doesn't like Imloth), regular mix of mainly male soldiers

Deep Rothe Pens

West Exit

Misc: Beholders, mind flayers and undead, oh my!