Author's Note: I haven't been in the mood for writing in a while because of Katrina, and I'm just lucky I brought my laptop with me when we evacuated. My family and I moved in with my grandparents in North Carolina until we can get back on our feet again. I'm really sorry about the delay but I just didn't feel like writing. I probably won't be updating for a while after this either, so sorry in advance. :)
Disclaimer: I still don't own Neverwinter Nights or anything associated with it.
Chapter Four
Nathyrra stood waiting outside of the room she'd left Caelan in a few minutes before. She shifted impatiently, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms over her chest. How long can it take to put on a shirt? she wondered testily. The male was being impossibly slow. She shook her head and mentally corrected herself. He wasn't just a lowly male. Caelan was her equal; a man who had proven himself to be as good a fighter as any drow female.
A creak interrupted her thinking as the door across from her opened and Caelan stepped out.
Nathyrra looked him over. He looked a bit paler than normal, but a wash and a shave had done him wonders. He looks…good, she found herself thinking, before mentally kicking herself for being silly.
"I'm glad the tunic fits," she told him briskly, forcing herself to view him more practically. Caelan glanced down at himself, then back up at her.
"Yes, but I'm not sure black's my color," he said jokingly. Nathyrra permitted herself a smile.
"Nonsense. You look fine." Caelan laughed, and Nathyrra restrained herself from what was sure to be an undignified giggle. He glanced back down again.
"I don't mean to be demanding, but… where's my sword?" Caelan asked, motioning at his empty sword belt.
"Ah…Valen thought you were a spy, you see. The only way I could get him to agree to let you stay was for him to confiscate your weapons."
"I was unconscious. How did he expect me to do any harm?" Caelan muttered rebelliously.
"Valen was only trying to protect the rebels. You can't blame him for mistrusting you." The tall ranger sighed and leaned tiredly against the wall.
"I don't blame him for doubting me, Nathyrra. In his place, I wouldn't trust me either." He grinned down at her, saying, "Now how about showing me around this temple? I don't want to get lost if I have to be in here on my own." Nathyrra frowned and folded her arms across her chest.
"Now, Caelan, you should really be resting…" She trailed off as she realized that, by the looks of the determined glint in his eye, that any arguing would be useless. "Oh, alright, but if you collapse I reserve the right to say 'I told you so.'" He smiled disarmingly.
"I promise to be good, Mother." She sighed in mock exasperation and lead the way down the hall.
They walked down a dark corridor in companionable silence, the tour long over. Caelan broke the silence, asking,
"Nathyrra?"
"Hmm?"
"You said you could help me against the Valsharess earlier." Nathyrra looked up at him sternly.
"Yes, but you shouldn't be worrying about that right now. You're still recovering, and you really shouldn't be overstressing yourself." He laughed and hit her playfully on the shoulder.
"Recovering? No, I don't think so. I've had worse." Nathyrra scowled at him in annoyance.
"I'm serious." He stopped and looked her straight in the eye, grinning.
"So am I." They held each other's gaze until Nathyrra looked away, trying not to smile.
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
"Oh, I don't know. Anything. Everything." She thought for a moment.
"I know much about the allies of the Valsharess. Many of those who support her, like the beholders and Illithid, live in the caverns to the west." Her expression turned thoughtful. "She has a lot of undead creatures in her armies as well. Her source for them may be located in the caverns also."
"Great. Undead are never any fun and I don't exactly like beholders, either." Nathyrra frowned, puzzled by this.
"You've seen a beholder? They don't usually come to the surface."
"I had a nasty run in with one at the inn in Waterdeep. Knocked me out and led the other adventurers down into Undermountain," Caelan answered.
"You were lucky, then. It could have killed you just as easily." He nodded.
"Yeah, I guess so." Caelan paused for a moment. "So…What exactly is an Illithid? I've never heard of them before."
Nathyrra made a face, her voice tinged with disgust. "They're horrible creatures, the lot of them. They're humanoid beings with long tentacles and a penchant for magic. They use the tentacles to destroy the minds of creatures they capture and make them helpless thralls. You may have heard of them by another name: mind flayers." Nathyrra stopped, noticing that Caelan had gone rigid. She laid a hand on his arm, saying softly,
"Are you alright?" The human swallowed and took a deep breath, composing himself before saying,
"Yes. I'm fine. I've just had…trouble with mind flayers before." His voice sounded strained and he took another deep breath before changing the subject hastily. "Is there anything else you can tell me?" Nathyrra looked at him searchingly, but he avoided her gaze.
"No, that's it." They stood there for a moment longer before Caelan started walking, saying,
"We should get back to the temple." Nathyrra trotted to keep up with his longer strides, wondering what was wrong with the human. He was clearly still upset; she could tell by his stiff shoulders and clenched jaw. Caelan was hiding something, but what?
Nathyrra got in bed after showing Caelan where he could sleep, still puzzling over the ranger's odd behavior. He had maintained a gloomy silence all evening, speaking only when somebody asked him a direct question, and then in as few words as possible. Nathyrra sighed and turned restlessly over on her side. She knew it had to have something to do with the Illithid, but what could have happened to cause Caelan to react to them so strongly?
The next day, Caelan seemed back to normal, even if his cheerfulness seemed a bit forced. He asked Nathyrra if she would show him around the city. She agreed, and after a quick breakfast, they walked out onto the streets of Lith Myathar.
"You drow must like gloomy architecture," Caelan noted, glancing up at the dark, twisting buildings. Nathyrra shook her head at him in puzzlement.
"It looks normal to me. I'm sure your buildings on the surface would be just as strange to a visiting drow." She motioned to two large structures, one behind them and one looming up ahead. "Those are public buildings. That tower up ahead," she said, pointing, "is House Maeviir's seat of power." Caelan glanced curiously at the guards stationed on either side of the door.
"They must not like company."
"Yes, and Matron Myrune is protecting herself from assassination attempts. Rumor has it her daughter is trying to kill her again." The ranger's eyes widened at her nonchalant tone.
"Is that normal around here?" Nathyrra smiled in amusement at his shocked expression.
"I keep forgetting that you know next to nothing about us. Yes, it's normal for daughters to try and kill their mothers so they can rule. It's part of our culture." They moved past the tower.
"Over there are the merchants and beyond is the forge and weapons shop." Nathyrra followed the ranger as he walked over to the dark water lapping at the nearby dock.
"Careful," she said warningly. "If you fall into the Dark River, you'll be swept away to your death." Caelan backed away hastily. "It's one of Lith Myathar's military defenses," Nathyrra continued. "No army can safely cross it." The tall human looked dubiously at the water.
"How, exactly, do you cross it when you need to?"
"If you want to cross, talk to Cavallas," she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at an ominous robed figure standing a few yards away. "The boatman knows the river like no other."
"I'm not sure I'd want to talk to him," Caelan said, peering at the ominous hooded figure. "He doesn't look very pleasant." Nathyrra laughed quietly and tugged him away from the river.
"I still have some places to show you." They toured the training grounds and the forge before stopping to rest on a street corner.
"All these drow are allies, right?" Caelan asked.
"Yes."
"But there seems to be two distinct groups, and it doesn't look like they like each other," he said, watching a couple of uniformed drow throwing insults at another group. Nathyrra leaned against a nearby building, arching an eyebrow and throwing a look of contempt at the drow in uniform.
"House Maeviir was forced to join with us, the Seer's followers, to stand against the Valsharess. The Maeviir drow, however, think we are weak because we believe in fighting only when necessary." Caelan scanned the groups of drow wandering around, occasionally shooting each other hostile glares.
"It does seem rather tense." Nathyrra sighed.
"You have no idea." She straightened up briskly. "There's one place I haven't shown you yet: the Ale Gardens. It's a local open air bar." This provoked a smile from Caelan.
"Good. I haven't had anything decent to drink since I left the Yawning Portal in Waterdeep."
Nathyrra glanced up at him as they walked up the street.
"There's something I wanted to ask you."
"Ask away."
"The Underdark is a strange place for a surfacer. Many find it unnerving, even when they are prepared for it." She cleared her throat, trying not to sound too concerned. "Given the suddenness of your arrival, I wanted to know how you're feeling." Caelan looked down at her, brows raised.
"You're worried about me?"
"Our fate is tied to you and your success. It's only natural that I show concern for you," she said quickly, cheeks flushing. Luckily, Caelan didn't seem to notice as he glanced up at the darkness above.
"It's unsettling not to be able to see sky, but I'll be alright."
"I'm glad to hear you say that." She paused, her face serious. "I won't lie to you. The Underdark is a dangerous place. The creatures that fight for survival here are unlike anything you may have seen on Toril's surface." She looked up at him again, meeting his eyes. "But you aren't alone in this, Caelan. It may seem hopeless, but I will do everything in my power to help you stop the Valsharess." Caelan smiled.
"It's good to know I can count on you." Nathyrra tried and failed to stop an answering smile. This man's smiles are dangerous, she found herself thinking.
They didn't say anything else until the Ale Gardens came into view. The ramshackle bar had a striped canopy over the top and several large barrels scattered around, one of which had two Maeviir soldiers and a smaller creature standing in front of it.
The bartender, who was wiping the grimy counter with an equally filthy rag, looked up at their approach and sniffed scornfully.
"We don't usually see your lot around here," he said, jerking his head at Nathyrra. "Why don't you go back to your precious Seer?" Nathyrra ignored him frostily as Caelan walked up to the bar.
"What do you have to drink around here?" The bartender looked up at him, mild surprise and contempt showing on his face.
"A surfacer, aye?" He looked Caelan over and sneered slightly. "Well, them over there," he motioned with the hand that held the dirty rag, "is usin' up my last barrel." He scratched his forehead. "Yep, since the Valsharess cut off our supply lines, I ain't had no more shipments. Jus' gotta make do with what we got." He went back to his polishing.
Caelan glanced over at the two soldiers and the smaller creature, which looked like a svirfneblin. The drow were egging the little creature on, pushing it to keep drinking. The svirf was swaying drunkenly, slurring pitifully over the voices of the two soldiers.
"Pleash…no more. No more."
"Shut up, you. Keep drinking," snarled one of the drow. "I want that record!" The svirf forced down another mug, choking as the other soldier cheered,
"Woo! Look at 'im go!" Caelan's jaw set and he stalked angrily over to the two drow. Nathyrra followed after him, whispering urgently,
"Caelan, what are you doing?" He ignored her and grabbed the closest drow by the tunic, spinning him around.
"What's going on here?" The soldier looked up at him in annoyance as his companion stopped cheering.
"Can't you see we're busy here? My servant only needs four more drinks to break the camp record." The svirf looked up at Caelan with tormented eyes, looking as though he might vomit.
"Pleash…I can't take anymore. No more." The ranger glared back down at the svirf's owner as the other drow said gleefully,
"He'll never make it. The svirf who set the record was twice this runt's size and he died of alchohol poisoning the next day."
"This isn't right," Caelan growled.
"He's MY servant. I'll do what I like with him," the soldier said disdainfully, his hand straying near his sword hilt. Nathyrra drew her short sword and moved up beside Caelan as he said menacingly,
"I won't let you force your servant to drink himself to death!" The drow hesitated, clearly aware that the odds were against him if it came down to a fight.
"Fine. I was getting bored anyway." He jerked his head at the other drow. "C'mon." He shoved by Caelan, muttering darkly, "Human scum."
The svirf swayed again, managing to say,
"Thank you." He hiccupped. "One more drink would have been the death of me. Exshcush me while I passh out…" He tottered and fell in a heap in front of the barrel, out cold.
A calm voice from behind Caelan caused him to spin around in surprise.
"Well, at least you have the courage to stand up to common bullies. That's something."
"Valen!" Nathyrra exclaimed as the red haired tiefling stepped out from behind a merchant's stall. "Good to see you." He acknowledged her with a nod and walked up to Caelan, who stared stonily back at him.
"I'd like my weapons back," the ranger said curtly. The tiefling considered silently him for a long moment before Nathyrra broke the silence.
"For goodness sake, Valen, he's not a spy," she said, feeling exasperated at the tiefling's stubbornness. Valen looked at Caelan for a moment more before nodding and turning abruptly.
"Very well. Follow me." Nathyrra rolled her eyes at his back and followed, Caelan bringing up the rear. Valen lead them to the Seer's temple and asked Caelan to wait outside while he talked for a moment with Nathyrra. Caelan smiled briefly at Nathyrra in answer to the look of annoyance she'd directed at Valen, then slouched up against the wall of the building.
Caelan's thoughts wandered, eventually coming back to the mind flayers. He gritted his teeth as long buried memories began to surface.
It was 18 years ago since his life had changed drastically. He had been a boy of 15 at the time, living with his mother and younger sister Tula on a small farm in the Silver Marches. Caelan had been out hunting by the caves near his home when he saw a multitude of creatures come pouring out of the nearest cave. They were like nothing he'd ever seen before, tall and thin, with squirming tentacles where their faces should have been. He hid in terror, watching as they swept by and not daring to come out until after they had disappeared from sight between the trees. He slipped out from his hiding place and ran for home, the smell of smoke growing strong on the breeze. Caelan cried out in wordless grief at the sight that met his eyes. The house was ablaze, the roof he had mended only the day before falling apart in a shower of sparks. Chickens, cows, the family dog- every animal lay slaughtered on the ground. Tula and his mother were nowhere to be seen; he could only assume that the creatures had taken them. He dropped to the ground, giving into great, wrenching sobs as his world fell apart around him.
Later, he learned that the creatures he had seen were called mind flayers and had most likely taken his family as slaves. He lived out on his own, as there were no relatives nearby that he could stay with. Over the years he learned to depend on himself to get by, selling his skills as a guide and woodsman to traveling adventurers.
The sound of a door opening broke into his reverie, pulling him from his thoughts of the past as Nathyrra walked out, triumphantly carrying his sword and bow. She handed them to him, saying, "Valen implored me not to trust you. He's still convinced that you're working for the Valsharess." She peered him closely. "Is something wrong?" Caelan attempted a smile as he sheathed his sword. "It's nothing. I was just thinking." Nathyrra looked like she was about to inquire further, but Valen walked over to them and addressed Caelan. "I still do not trust you, as Nathyrra has undoubtedly told you. However, I am willing to assist you in your quest, if only to keep an eye on you." Caelan acknowledged him with a nod of his head.
"Very well, then. I am thankful for the help, regardless. Do you have any information for me? Nathyrra-" he nodded in her direction, "-already told me about the Valsharess's allies." Valen considered the matter for a moment, head cocked to one side, before replying.
"Recently, I've heard tales of some strange islands nearby. Based on the legends, there may be something on these islands that could help us against the Valsharess." Caelan's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Islands? There are islands in the Underdark?" Valen regarded him impassively.
"Does that surprise you?" His tone bore slight contempt for Caelan's ignorance. "There are many rivers and lakes here in the Underdark, and many settlements have ports or docks. The Lith Myathar ports are just to the east of here." Caelan nodded, remembering Cavallas. Valen continued,
"They say there is an island inhabited by powerful golems; these would be particularly useful against the Valsharess and her army. I've also heard of a strange settlement that appeared overnight on a previously deserted island." Valen's tone became more interested. "That sounds like the work of a powerful artifact, one we might be able to use ourselves. Of course, what I've heard are really just rumors from those who've traveled the river."
Caelan recalled the mysterious boatman at the docks.
"Do you know anything about Cavallas?"
"Cavallas is… odd. He willingly transports followers of the Seer up and down the river, but otherwise seems unwilling to take a active role in our conflict with the Valsharess."
No one seems to know much about him, Caelan reflected thoughtfully.
"That is all the information I have." Caelan nodded his thanks at him.
"Very well. We'll leave early tomorrow and-" Nathyrra cut him off determinedly, hands on her hips.
"You are going nowhere until you've had some time to recover." Caelan looked heavenward, heaving a long-suffering sigh.
"Nathyrra, that was two days ago," he said patiently. "By the time you deem me well enough to travel, the Valsharess will have conquered the entire Underdark."
"Caelan is right. We should make haste," Valen interjected. The ghost of a smile flickered across his face. "I am sure he knows his own limits." Nathyrra looked at the two of them, aware she was outnumbered.
"Fine!" she snapped, spinning on her heel and marching into the Seer's temple. "Don't blame me when you end up dead, Caelan!" Valen turned to the ranger, smirking ever so slightly.
"It amazes me that she is so concerned about your well being." Caelan shrugged helplessly, trudging after the drow. "I'd rather she didn't care quite so much." The tiefling smirked again and followed the both of them inside. This could be an interesting trip, he reflected.
Well, it's been brought to my attention that reviewer responses are not allowed, so I can't thank all of you individually anymore. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed anyway! passes out chocolate chip cookies and Valen plushies I'm sorry if this chapter seemed a little… off, but as I said before I really wasn't in the mood to write.