Chapter 2

Along Came a Spider

Rapid breathing went right along with the quick footsteps of the running woman. Selune, the world's silver moon, shone down through the forest's trees on a small group of dark figures, not a hundred feet behind her. Quilue was quick of foot, but unused to so much light. It stung her white eyes and gave away her movements. She could feel them closing in, hear the chink of chain mail and the snapping of twigs under heavy boots. Any second, and she'd feel a crossbow bolt in her back. She'd done her best to lose these mercenaries. It seemed even running into the middle of an old forest wouldn't save her. Her voice was quiet from lack of breath as she uttered a quick prayer to her goddess, the Dancing Maiden.

"Lady Eilistraae, please let me be spared. Don't let me die like this." Tears slid down her black cheeks as a thrown dagger embedded itself in a tree trunk beside her. Her legs felt like they were about to give out. Her lungs felt like bursting. Everything was about to fall apart.

She had nearly given up hope when she came upon a clearing, with only rocks and stones for cover. There was but a fraction of a second to choose whether to run into the wide open, where anyone with a longbow could pick her off, or turn back into the forest, where the men with bows and swords were coming from. She saw a spot of darkness in the middle, an obvious way down. It was her only chance. With one last burst of energy, she ran for it. Halfway there, wooden bolts and arrows started to fly. A set of two bolts and two arrows whizzed past, breaking on the rocks of her destination. With but a few steps remaining between her and the safety of underground, an arrow pierced her right arm. The bloody arrowhead poked out from the wound, and the girl screamed. She kept her feet, and ran crying down the stairs, right into a hanging dark cloth.

Everything hurt, and now she was tangled in a black curtain someone had put at the bottom of the stairs. The worst part was the voices. She'd stumbled off to the side of the stairs, and now some men were obviously walking over to investigate. Three male voices, trying to decide who would go to find out who and what she was. There was a silly little argument, before the footsteps of the mercenaries started down. The next noises were cries of battle and gurgles of death. It seems the mercs had won.

Quilue held perfectly still, in the hopes that she wouldn't be noticed. They were too close. Two of the four had survived, and now they were discussing their plans.

"Where'd she go?" That was the farther voice. A human.

"I dunno. These aren't her. Maybe she ran in further. You go check that way. I'll check behind the stairs." That voice was closer. It was the dwarf. He seemed to have been the leader of the group, to begin with.

"Right." The human walked much softer than his companion, but still loud enough to be heard. He walked away, and then down some stairs. The dwarf walked around Quilue. She held her breath. That, she could control. The whimpering was another problem. One she couldn't. The dwarf had to have noticed, as he returned to where she lay hiding.

"Well, what have we--" He was cut off by his partner's cry of help. It was very short, and followed by choking. Then nothing. The last merc ran as best he could to follow the human, and Quilue waited until he started down the stairs to untangle herself. The arrow had broken during her fall, but it was still sticking out of her. She quickly yanked the shaft of wood out and dropped it to the floor, stifling her cry of pain to silent sobs. She used one of the fallen soldier's shortswords to cut a strip of cloth from the curtain, and tied it around her arm as a tourniquet. Arming herself with the shortsword, the drow girl cautiously started down the stairs, to see where she could get to, from here.

The sound of rattling chains came from the room at the bottom. She hid herself against a wall, not daring to reveal her presence. The dwarf was cursing and choking, apparently by whoever had the chain. There was a snap, and then silence. Shortly afterward, the chains started sounding again. Slower, this time. Quilue took a careful peek around the corner, to see an elf crouching beside the two bodies. Age is hard to tell, with them, since they live so long. By appearance, his human age equivelant would be late teens, early twenties. That put his age at around a century, perhaps a little less. She'd never been good at understanding the surface faeries. They were trouble, and hated drow. That's all she needed to know. For some reason, he was naked and shackled to the wall. He'd somehow managed to kill the two mercenaries who'd come down, and was checking the contents of their fresh corpses. He glanced up at her for a moment, before returning to examining the dwarf's weaponry. A battleaxe, a sap, and a heavy crossbow. He took the sap, and looked over at her again. His voice was cracked a bit.

"I see you. You might as well come out." His attention turned to the other body. The human. Quilue stepped from her hiding place, into the room. Naturally, she kept her distance. "If you release me, I promise not to hurt you." She knew better than to trust a surface-dweller. She edged around him, and headed for the room beyond.

There wasn't a doorway leading ahead, but that area was wider. There was an old cut up workbench all along the back wall. It held several pieces of finely crafted leather armor, inlaid with metal studs. Embedded in the chestpiece was a very valuable looking medallion. Also on the table was a sheathed sword, with a gold-inlaid hilt. The blade was wide enough to be a broadsword, slightly longer than a longsword, and the hilt was long enough for one or two-handed use. On the other side of the armor was a folded up heavy cloak, the same brown as the table. Beside that was a belt with several pouches. Some of them are drawstring pouches, while others have flaps. On the left wall was a wide indentation, with a mural of a city in a forest. In front of that was a basin of salt. She stepped closer to it. The elf called from the other room. "Those are my things, in there. I'd appreciate it if you would let me have them back."

"Why should I trust you, elf?" She turned to face him. "You just killed two people. How do I know I won't be next?"

"You haven't tried to kill me, yet. They did. Stupid of them, since I'm chained up and totally unarmed. Then again, even that didn't do them much good." His sapphire eyes glanced down at his shackles. "Technically, the chain is a weapon, but not many would take that into account. I give you my word of honor, you will come to no harm if I am freed, so long as you don't threaten me." There was a sincerity to his voice that even she couldn't deny. She shifted her weight and regarded him with interest for a moment.

"I don't have the key." Her arms cross over her small chest, and he shakes his head.

"There should have been a wizard, up there. Old man with a snake. He'd have the key on him. Or if you could give me a set of lockpicks, that would help." He starts stripping the mercenaries, looking for some clothes. The human was too big, and the dwarf was too small. "Damn..." The drow girl walked back into the other room, searching for the belt pouch that would have lockpicks. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of armor-plated footsteps coming down the stairs. After a quick glance at the staircase to make sure they weren't in sight yet, she jumped against the wall. It slowly began to slide open, and she made her way into the secret room before anyone could see her. She closed the door as quickly as she could. That was it. She knew she was done for.