Chapter 13

Over the next months, Sab'vrae studied and restudied his book, slowly grasping its concepts with the aide of his undercover peers. Gradually, something formed inside his mind most drow could never comprehend or develop themselves: a conscience. The elderboy's neutrality ebbed away, day by day, giving into humility and morals.

He still continued his normal day-to-day duties without any odd behavior, but his nights were filled with conflicting feelings. The new concepts thrust upon him by Erel'kiira contradicted almost everything he ever knew. And yet, he accepted them, even if it took him much contemplation.

Months gave way into the following year, then into the next. By then, Sab'vrae understood most of his book. He befriended the two mercenaries, though was careful to retain a commander-subordinate relationship with the during the day. Learning the surface concepts of a "family," the noble found he looked to the duo as siblings in its purest sense, not the twisted farce it played in Ched Nasad.

To his dismay, Erel'kiira approached him with the news of her departure.

"Rhyl'dorl and I must move on. Our contract with the matron mother's expired, and we need to seek out others that need guidance."

"You can't leave!" Sab'vrae nearly begged, "How can I survive in this twisted society without your friendship?"

Erel'kiira smiled, understanding, "I've only opened a door for you, Sab'vrae. It is you who must walk through it. Here, a gift for you. It holds some special enchantments to aid you." She handed him a small carving of a long sword silhouetted against a fully moon -- one of Eilistraee's symbols. The charm hung from a simple silver chain. Sab'vrae inspected the necklace, placing it around his neck.

"I appreciate the present, but… you must take me with you I can aid others with you!" the elderboy insisted.

"No… that's not your calling, your purpose. I can feel it." Erel'kiira responded earnestly, "Something greater will call to you some day. Besides, if you left with us, it would arouse suspicion. Too much for safety. You must remain here and endure for a while longer." Noticing his frown, she added, "Look, if you ever find the chance to leave for the surface, take this with you," She pulled out a small folded square of old paper, handing it to him.

Perplexed, he looked at the cleric.

"Don't lose it." She insisted, turning to leave. She paused, then hugged him briefly. "Take care of yourself. You may have many rough years ahead of you before you can escape, but you'll survive. I know you will." She turned to leave, opening the chamber's door. Outside, Rhyl'dorl stood, waiting.

"Thank you two for everything," Sab'vrae thanked them sincerely. The duo nodded, disappearing into the shadows.

"Perhaps we'll meet again one day, if fate allows it." Rhyl'dorl waved, leaving.

"I look forward to the chance. Watch yourselves." He waited until even his own keen ears couldn't detect their footsteps anymore. Sab'vrae looked down at the folded paper, pondering its purpose.

"Well, I don't need it now, so…" He slipped the paper securely between the pages of his holy book. Ever since receiving it from Erel'kiira, he kept it on his person at all times, usually under his shirt or in his pants pockets.

Tucking his new necklace under his clothes, out of sight, he sighed, returning to his daily routines. Their words rang too true; he couldn't leave without causing problems. It would probably take years to find an ample opportunity, but he would endure. His newfound morals and conscience had in no sense weakened his senses. He remained dangerous to his foes as ever before.

After all, he was a survivor.

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Sab'vrae remained busy throughout the year, fast approaching his fiftieth birthday. Upon reaching twentieth rank in the city, Matron Bhin'ree acted much more ambitious, eager to make the rank of "higher" noble. Industrious, indeed, but not reckless, the Aleanani leader spent her time plotting and setting up her pawns to trigger events in her favor.

Bhin'ree often sent her servants and son on odd errands, stringing webs of deceit, unraveling alliances between opponents. Already, Sab'vrae found himself on several assassination missions, all successful on his part. Not too long ago, the missions would have added some excitement in his otherwise dull life, but now they only instilled guilt on his young conscience.

Ever since the day of Erel'kiira and Rhyl'dorl's departure, Sab'vrae kept Eilistraee's necklace around his neck at all times, hiding it under his armor and tunics. At night, he fingered the talisman in silent prayer, asking for forgiveness any time he committed a required, but regretted, sin.

He sighed, turning his thoughts to the present. The elderboy made his way down the corridor, his black piwafwi swishing from side to side. He halted when he spotted his sister, Masantar. The Aleanani heir strutted down the hall, head held high in arrogance. Noticing her older brother, she stopped, putting her hands on her hips with a smirk.

"Well, if it isn't the little hero of our family, the master swordsman captain." She mocked. Sab'vrae rolled his eyes.

"Masantar, that was over a year ago. While that might not seem long ago, it's still old news." Snarling, his sister cracked her leather whip across his stomach. The elderboy kneeled over, clutching his throbbing gut.

"Don't speak to a female in such a manner, especially not one above you in station." The female noble spat, striking him across the back. "Is that clear?"

"Yesss." Sab'vrae hissed, closing his eyes to hide the searing hatred within them. His sister found every excuse to torture him each time they met. He mused over using his insignia's invisibility spell around his sister, otherwise he might end up stabbing her through her black heart one day.

"If you're done being stupid," Masantar snorted, "the matron's called for you. She wants you in throne room immediately. Best not test our mother's temper, dear brother." The younger drow cackled, continuing on her way.

Sab'vrae groaned, straightening his sore body. He felt across his stomach and back, relieved to find no blood or holes. His sister was in a good mood today, he noted. The sooner she returned to school, though, the better for him.

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He made all haste to his mother's room, his feet flying soundlessly over the stone floor. The elderboy thrust open the long doors and skid to a halt in the center, stumbling into a clumsy bow.

"You called for me, matron?" he panted. Bhin'ree rolled her eyes, resting her cheek in her fist.

"Perhaps I'll reconsider the candidate for my mission, since my son is a fool." She grunted. Dilaere snickered from his place at her side, but silenced himself at the icy glare sent to him by the matron.

"My apologies, matron mother. I merely tried to reach you with all due haste once your orders were sent to me." Sab'vrae bit his lip, withholding all the bitter thoughts on the tip of his tongue.

"Well, don't bumble about like a wael, fool, while on this mission." His mother warned, her eyes flashing in irritation.

"I have served my mistress well in the past twenty years. That's not about to change." Unless I can get out of here. He added mentally.

"Let's hope not." Bhin'ree huffed, "Now, I need you to meet with an agent from House Nasandra and escort them to the merchant quarters. While on the mission, you are to obey all orders given to you by the agent. If they wish for you to remain until their task is finished fully, you will stay. Is that clear?"

"What are we doing dealing with the most powerful family in this city?" Sab'vrae asked incredulously. Bhin'ree scowled at her son, then slowly shifted to a small smile, containing her temper.

"Let's just say we're doing a few… 'favors' for some of the Nasandra children, in return for supplies and other forms of aid. This is a matter they require an outsider for, which is why they asked us to help and not use one of their own men."

"Very well. I won't fail you, matron. I shall see to this task at once." With that, the noble son rose, bowing lightly before exiting the room.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to send him on this task?" Dilaere asked humbly once the doors closed. "It's more of a job for a low-rank soldier, not our house's captain.

Bhin'ree grinned impishly, "This is true, but Matron Ardularra's third daughter, Talab'riia, has eyed my son for quite some time now. Imagine the power of House Aleanani if its elderboy became patron of a Nasandra daughter."

"Ah, political reasons. Quite clever, if I do say so myself, mistress. Was the entire mission a ruse, then?" Dilaere asked.

"Not at all. What I told Sab'vrae is all true," the matron mother explained, "but the 'agent' is Talab'riia herself, so I'm almost certain she'll take advantage of her situation after our escort arrives. Before or after the mission, it matters not. But I know Talab'riia's reputation. She won't abandon new meat when it's delivered to her doorstep." The duo broke into a bout of wicked laughter, pleased at their potential to rise further in prestige.

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Once again clad in less attention-grabbing garb, Sab'vrae yanked his cloak's hood far over his dark head, shadowing his upper face. He wove through Ched Nasad's packed alleyways and streets, pushing past floods of commoners and foreigners. Upon reaching the higher noble section, he carefully avoided touching the other travelers, not wishing to irritate a short-tempered priestess or archmage.

He recalled an event from the years immediately following his training at Barra Velve. A simple merchant of little renown had the misfortune of bumping into a high priestess not known for her kindness. Insulted by the "insect's" mere touch, she cast doom on the unfortunate drow, killing him quickly and painfully on the spot. Normally, getting caught for murder (but not the act itself) warranted the death penalty by drow "justice." However, because of the large gap in status between the murderer and the victim, no penalty was paid. Higher drow had every right to slaughter those significantly below them, in the shadows or not.

Despite his rank as an elderboy noble, Sab'vrae was only in the middle high class, and a male. Automatically, any females nobles and high nobility ranked far above him. The fighter wished to end his days on the surface, not in the underground caverns. He watched his every step with extra caution.

Hard to miss even for the blind, the House Nasandra complex towered menacingly a mere hundred yards ahead. Ched Nasad's most powerful family ensured the fact remained etched in the citizens. Nasadra's house and grounds covered nearly a third of the Ruling Twelve sector. Two large gates served as the only entrance to the complex. A tall, spiked fence blocked the way for half a mile in both directions. Some ten feet from the fence, the ground dropped into a deep chasm, its bottom undetermined. The abyss stretched onward for over four hundred yards, far too long for a single drow to levitate over. On the other side of the precipice stood the massive First House, its multiple towers watching over the city.

The only accessible route to the building was a long, stone bridge behind the gates, expanding across the chasm, ending before a second gate, Nasandra's last outer defense against possible enemies. Or, so it seemed. More than likely, the towers hid traps and defenses of their own. Never in over six thousand years had the founding family been toppled. Now, Sab'vrae understood well why.

His entire being draining of heat at the sight of the impressive stronghold, the noble slowly approached the front gates. Four visible guards, two in front of the gates, two behind, eyed him menacingly. Gathering his courage, Sab'vrae sucked in a lung full of air, "I… I am here on my Matron's orders to escort one of your people to the merchant's quadrant." The guards exchanged skeptical looks with one another.

"At ease, males. He's my convoy for the day." An icy, feminine voice called from the bridge. The guards jumped, scrambling to open the gates.

"Mistress Talab'riia!" one babbled. The iron barriers creaked open, revealing the way for the speaker.

Stepping through the hatchway with utter confidence, the female noble stopped outside the exit, hands on her hips. She stood two inches below Sab'vrae, average height for a female dark elf at five feet. The woman scanned Sab'vrae's body up and down, smirking as she raised her head to meet his eyes.

"Tall, but not enough to resemble a bungling rivvil, human. I like that." The noble drow rubbed her chin, inspecting his face closely. "Pull your cowl back. It leaves too many cool spots on your face for me to identify you."

Reluctantly, Sab'vrae obeyed, sliding the cloth from his head, revealing his features. Talab'riia raised her eyebrows before recognition flashed in her reddish eyes. "I know you! You're Aleanani's elderboy… Sab'vrae, am I correct?"

"Yes… mistress." Sab'vrae avoided her gaze, bowing lowly. Mentally, he swore vengeance at the party responsible for his task. He strongly disliked the lewd stares on the female noble's part. True, Nasandra's third daughter was possibly the most beautiful woman his eyes fell upon, but Eilistraee's words reminded him of true loveliness: that which resided in the soul. By her reputation, Talab'riia's soul could compete with Masantar's over which was the ugliest.

Talab'riia's long legs extended from her nearly ideally shaped torso, her frame narrowing at the waist and curving outwards at the hips. The high noble's white hair flowed loosely to just above her thighs, straight and smooth. Her long, purple robe reached her ankles, though the thin material did little to cover her otherwise nude body. Sab'vrae suspected the effect was intentional. Drow dressed for protection, not modesty. Talab'riia clutched a spiked mace in her right hand, though her clerical powers probably provided more than enough protection. Why she needed him as an escort, the Aleanani man had no inkling.

"That's enough male, you may raise your hood again." Talab'riia ordered, pulling the coif of her own piwafwi over her face. "Let's go. I need to meet my contact at the merchant's quarters within the hour." She slunk past Sab'vrae, her gait shifting her hips sensually with each step. Heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes, Sab'vrae covered his head once more, trotting to catch up. He kept his arms tensed, ready to withdraw his blades instantly if needed.

Somehow he doubted any threats that arose would come from strangers.

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Talab'riia seemed to know her way about the city quite well, not to Sab'vrae's surprise at all. Yet again he pondered the point in his presence. He surmised his mother had some alternative objective in this task, and it made him immensely uncomfortable. When not scanning the crowds for hidden assassins or other threats, Talab'riia drifted her eyes towards the attractive male elf, blatantly showing her interest. Even before his conversion religiously, Sab'vrae hated the sexual attention from females, distrusting every one he'd met, save for Erel'kiira. He'd stayed celibate ever since his graduation ceremony; the dark elf had no intention of changing that anytime soon.

Talab'riia held out her arm suddenly, interrupting his musings. "Stop. I have… business here." She motioned to the small magic shop in front of them, "You stay outside until I'm finished. Understood?"

"Of course, mistress." He craftily kept the sarcasm he felt out of his voice. Nodding in acknowledgement and approval, Talab'riia strutted into the store.

Shifting the weight from one foot to the other every few moments, Sab'vrae crossed his arms over his chest. He watched the crowds pass by: commoners, nobles, slaves, mercenaries, and foreigners going about their daily lives, filling the streets with a blend of diverse languages and gestures. Bored, the Aleanani elderboy amused himself by counting the numbers of each race he noticed. A dozen kobolds, thirty goblins, five orcs, ten dwarves, sixteen duergar, three humans, and, to his mild surprise, one surface elf. Obviously a slave. He long lost track of the drow in the crowds, so Sab'vrae simply gave up counting the dark elves in his simple game.

Finally, Talab'riia emerged from the shop. "I'm finished." She stated, pushing him along. "Let's move on. Return me to my home. My business here is done for the day."

"Very well, mistress." He replied, following behind her through the streets as he scanned their surroundings for any possible dangers. She directed them through the crowds and back into the high noble section, redefining Sab'vrae's position as "escort."

"Talab'riia Nasandra and Sab'vrae Aleanani. Let us pass, rothe srow, rothe scum." She snapped at the four guards, brandishing her house insignia needlessly. Already her servants scrambled to unlock the gates, pulling the iron barriers open, revealing the long bridge.

"Come with me." Talab'riia commanded, motioning to Sab'vrae, who faltered, unease filling his senses. The female growled, losing patience quickly.

"Now, male, lest I have you flogged and skinned alive for my amusement."

Inhaling deeply, Sab'vrae hissed a, "At once, mistress," before forcing his lead feet forward, following behind the Nasandra noble daughter. She led the nervous male across the bridge, pass the second gates, and through the front doors. Sab'vrae gaped at the immense ceiling of the Nasandra's foyer.

"This way, male." Talab'riia directed, pulling his arm towards a flight of spiraling stairs. They scaled the steps, coming to a slightly smaller, yet still magnificent hallway. The Nasandra noble led Sab'vrae to a long, spider adorned door. Pushing it open, Talab'riia entered the room, Sab'vrae unwillingly close behind.

Aleanani's elderboy gaped once more. "Is this your bedroom?" he inquired in disbelief. The room put his mother's throne chamber to shame. Talab'riia blinked, then cackled with amusement.

"This? My bedroom? Hardly. My bedroom is far nicer. However, it is one of my spare rooms. One I like to… entertain guests with." She tugged on his shirt, her intent painfully clearer than ever more.

"Are you implying…?" Sab'vrae asked, eyeing her distrustfully.

"You're a fine specimen, elderboy," Talab'riia stated what felt like the obvious, "I know well of your prowess in battle and not many males can boast their attractiveness as much as you. Now, all I need to see is if you can please well in bed to suit yourself as my new patron. Shall I test you then?" It wasn't a true question.

Sab'vrae looked from the bed to Talab'riia, then back to the bed, and back to the female. He inhaled deeply, responding when he exhaled. "No." Talab'riia's eyes widened in shock and anger.

"What… did …you just… say?" she growled lowly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I won't do it. I have no intention, quite frankly, to 'please' you, let alone become your patron." Sab'vrae spoke with more confidence, finally bringing himself to be honest about his feelings.

"Wael! Idiot! Any other male would sacrifice himself to Lloth to take your place!" the Nasandra daughter hissed.

"I said I won't do it. I have no attraction or feelings for you." Talab'riia laughed humorlessly.

"Feelings?" she asked incredulously, "By the Spider Queen, what in the Abyss are you talking about? What do 'feelings' of attachment have anything to do with this? They are merely weakness, not to be found in drow of good stock."

"They are no weakness!" Sab'vrae snapped, "Our society's inter wars and selfish ambitions are our weaknesses!" Talab'riia narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Bite your tongue now, male," she warned, her tone dripping with venom, "or I shall cut it out from your head for your impiety against The Spider Queen."

Sab'vrae's anger burst through fully, "To the Hells with that damned Lloth and her evil ways!" he snarled. Talab'riia's eyes widened in shock, then quickly narrowed in immense rage.

"Blasphemer!" She howled, unsheathing a hidden curvy dagger, "Mother Lloth shall have your worthless heart for your insubordination!" Talab'riia charged at the male, catching him by surprise, but not off guard.

Grabbing her wrist, Sab'vrae pushed her arm, and in effect, the dagger, away from his heart. Her free arm attempted to beat his chest, and so the elderboy seized it with his other hand, struggling with the female to keep the weapon away from his cardiovascular organ. In general, female drow grew naturally larger and stronger than male drow. However, centuries of mastering her clerical abilities and magic, Talab'riia's muscles had long withered in comparison to Sab'vrae's well developed ones. The two dark elves twisted and strained, each coming close to disarming or deterring the other, but never gaining enough of an advantage.

The dagger's crooked blade coming too close to his jugular vein, Sab'vrae's arm muscles surged with temporary overpowering muscle, finally pushing the blade out of harm's way, winning the brief tug of war as he removed the weapon from her fingers. Talab'riia screamed, and once the elderboy noticed why, he released her, stepping back in shock and fear, the dagger grasped tightly in his hand.

In his last attempt to deflect the weapon, Sab'vrae had unintentionally pushed the blade deep into her gut. Dark blood and bile leaked from the wound. She looked up at him in disbelief, red liquid seeping through her dark lips. She gurgled a few curses at the male, touching her stomach before falling to the ground, dead. Her bloody hand slumped out from her body with a soft plop.

Sab'vrae panted, still processing the sudden event. Slowly, he eyed the red-soaked blade in his hand, then his own bloody fingers. He shook his head in overwhelmed disbelief, dropping the dagger with a clatter. The male backed away from the body, stunned. He'd killed many other drow in his life, but always in combat. Even his assassin marks knew of his approach (as he intended) and fell before him when they failed to face his prowess in battle. Never before had he murdered in what he considered cold blood.

"What have I done?" he gasped, hearing the door creak open behind him. Flipping his head around, Sab'vrae spotted the equally appalled guard.

"G…Guards!" the soldier croaked, "GUARDS! Mistress Talab'riia has been murdered! I have her killer here!" Hearing the clatter of multiple footsteps in the hallway, Sab'vrae stared as the guard charged at him, spear thrust forward to impale.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Sab'vrae dodged the blow enough to avoid any dangerous injuries. However, the tip did manage to cut a thin line across his bicep. Mentally grateful this guard didn't poison his spear, Sab'vrae unsheathed his blades, deflecting the next few attacks. Frantic at the sounds of approaching soldiers, Sab'vrae quickly chanced a miniscule opening, driving his swords into the drow's chest, puncturing both lungs. He yanked his weapons free and sheathed them, grabbing his house insignia on his brooch.

"Doera feldin," he hissed, touching the center of the spider symbol. Instantly, he vanished from view, both in the light and infrared spectrums. Perfectly timed, ten guards rushed into the room, utterly bemused at the sight before them: one dead daughter, and one dying guard.

"He… disappea…" the guard wheezed, blood filling his lungs as he expired before finishing. Catching his meaning, the soldiers cautiously inspected the room, keeping their keen ears and eyes alert.

No fool, Sab'vrae had already slipped past them when they opened the door, and quickly made his way down the stairs. Reaching the main foyer and entrance, the elderboy skid to a halt in front of the great doors, attempting to shove them open. They finally gave, creaking outward, surprising the entry guards when no one seemed to pass them.

Sab'vrae reached the first gates and silently cursed, finding them locked. He looked about, knowing the gate was probably warded against magic and levitation spells. Before he could finish contemplating his predicament, one of the upper level patrolmen dashed out, waving his triton about wildly.

"Talab'riia's dead! Her murderer's escaped somewhere into the estate!" he panted.

"The doors opened by themselves a minute ago. He's probably out here." A gate sentry reasoned, turning his gaze towards the gates. He slowly approached the bridge, and Sab'vrae felt his stomach tie up in knots. He pulled out his hand crossbow, quickly checking it. He had one round of sleeping darts left. That meant a mere thirty round of bolts. He'd have to aim quickly, and true.

His crossbow fired thrice, hitting the approaching drow in the throat and his two partners in the sides. The trio of drow slumped over, asleep.

"He's attacking! Get hi-" Sab'vrae shot two more rounds, taking out the remaining two sentries before they could alert the other side of the bridge. Working swiftly, Sab'vrae rummaged their pockets for a gate key or ward stone. Finally finding a matching key, he tugged to remove it, then stopped. Even if he passed the first gates, the front guards would surely notice a hovering set of keys charging towards them. A more suitable plan formed in his mind. He unlatched the gate, then placed the keys back in the guard's belt.

Pulling the napping sentry to his feet with a grunt, the elderboy grasped the body around the waist, and moved forward slowly, giving the guard a slumping walk appearance. Insuring that the sleeping dart was lodged in the back of his neck securely, Sab'vrae placed the guard on his back, dashing through the gates.

He ran as quickly as his overworked feet allowed him to across the bridge, stopping at a hundred yards from the main gate, just out of range of the guards' vision. The noble placed the unconscious guard on the ground, then picked up by the waist one more, checking on the dart again. He made the guard drag himself onward, panting as he approached the entrance.

Spotting the "lurching" soldier, the inside gate guards exchanged looks, walking up to their comrade. Anticipating this, Sab'vrae kept the sleeping drow's head low, hiding his face and lips from view. Lowering his head close to his captive's lips, Sab'vrae croaked, "Attack… on… house from the… inside… Talab'riia's been… killed… need… help… others already… dying…." With that, the male dropped his prisoner, creating a rather effective mock fall.

Detecting the barb in his comrade's neck, the nearest guard yanked it out, briefly inspecting it. "Sleeping dart," he noted, eyes widening in shock. He turned to face his three partners "Come on, we need to get the attackers. If not, the matron will have our skins." He ran across the bridge, missing Sab'vrae completely. The remaining trio exchanged uncomfortable looks, but decided any intruder was preferred over their mistress. Unlocking the gates, the outside guards joined the inner ones, running to the complex.

Sab'vrae evaded them as they flew by, jumping into a roll, tumbling out of the gateway before it closed. Quite pleased and surprised his ruse had worked, the Aleanani son ran into the district, taking himself as far away from the Nasandra house as possible.

Word will travel far too fast. They'll be looking for me in the city very soon. Sab'vrae warned himself, weaving through the crowds, avoiding all contact when possible. He noticed his wound begin to seep through his clothes, escaping his invisibility spell. Quickly clapping a hand over it with a squeeze, he cursed. Hopefully none of the passerby would notice an odd spot of heat floating in the air.

I can't stay here. All those guards saw me enter the house with Talab'riia, and my mother and Dilaere knew who I was escorting, I'm sure. There's more than enough evidence to get me caught, and for murdering a Nasandra high priestess, no less! I'm far worse off than dead if I remain here. He gave a quick glance at House Aleanani as he dashed past it. Well, at least I have valid reason to reach the surface, now. He added with a snort.

He felt his invisibility spell beginning to flicker just as he came upon the city's entrance. Perhaps his goddess favored him at the moment, for the gates remained open, probably about to let a trading caravan through.

Instead of a caravan, a trio of mind flayers walked through the gateway, their ugly, tentacled heads surveying the area. Mind flayers were evil, wretched creatures with immense psychic abilities. Sab'vrae slunk past them nervously. One ithllid eyed him as he passed, but seemed uninterested. The drow ran out into the wild Underdark, disappearing into the shadows just as the last effects of his spell wore out.

Panting and drained, Sab'vrae pushed his way about the tunnels, putting as much distance between him and Ched Nasad as possible. When he could move no longer, he spent the last amount of his energy to levitate himself into a small overhead cavern for the night. Praying silently to The Dark Maiden that no animal nor drow found his hiding spot, Sab'vrae slipped into a weary sleep.