I do not want to steal any characters from R.A. Salvatore. Please don't do anything bad to me.
I'm new, and this is my first story I've posted on this site. It is a bit short, and I'm sorry.
Please Enjoy.
Prologue
Jarlaxle stumbled from a dark alley in Menzoberranzan.
His hat was gone, along with all of his equipment. He had lost everything. He was shirtless, and his pants were ripped and torn. His body showed the marks of recent torturing; burns, scrapes, and whip marks.
But more significant, the mercenary band he had taken so long to create, had spent his life strengthening and entrenching in power in Menzoberranzan, was destroyed.
It had all happened so quickly; even crafty Jarlaxle had not been able to stop it. An ultimate conspiracy, it seemed, to have completely escaped the notice of Bregan D'aerthe. The matrons of the eight highest houses had gathered together in the chapel of house Baenre, where no magical intrusion could intrude, and had decided they had grown tired of Jarlaxle's impudence.
Somehow, they had managed to destroy the mercenary band and capture its leader. They had intended to torture him to death, but Jarlaxle, the ultimate survivor, had escaped. Somehow, he had managed it.
Now he wandered aimlessly through the dark streets of Menzoberranzan, remembering all that he had lost.
Suddenly, a blast of magical force bowled Jarlaxle over. Triel Baenre was standing over him. Jarlaxle scrambled to his feet, but a web spell from Triel had him bound to the ground.
Triel loomed over him, kneeling down next to him. She produced the sacrificial dagger of Lolth and raised it high...