Author's notes: I'd like to apologize for not updating in more than a week, but I am back to University and am not quite used to it by now. However, the chapters would come and I hope to update at least once a week. Thank you for your patience.
Another note on some things I mention in the text concerning the city of Sigil. Although the information about the Forgotten Realms I use in my story is from the English version of the published campaign setting, everything I know about Sigil and the world of Planescape I only know about in German (being my first language). Some names I don't know what they are called in English so I tried to translate them into something I thought would fit. The names I talk about are "the City of Many Doors" and "the Lady of Pains". If anyone knows the correct translation I would be most grateful for a short message.
But now, back to the tale.

Chapter 4: Concerning different Characters

The campsite of the duergar was empty. No hints where found indicating that they even were there. Everything Chathi and Valen saw when they met the dwarven group was gone. Tents, fire sites, racks; nothing remained. Chathi shook her head.

"They must have left shortly after we came through. Not even a day passed and they fled. Cowards." She spat on the ground in disgust and continued to where they left Cavallas.

He was not there.

Chathi looked around, searched for a sign that this was the wrong place. It wasn't. "Traitor?" She asked Valen with a puzzled look on her face. "Maybe he fled with the duergars?" Her eyes immediately seemed afire, glowing with rage.

"I don't think he betrayed us. He has other duties. We are not the only ones relying on his services. He will come back, I am sure." Valen tried to look confidently, but failed badly.

"Hopefully you are right." Chathi remarked and put her backpack to the ground. "It seems we are stuck for a while. Perfect." She rummaged through her pack and finally found a piece of dried fruit. "I really need a rest. This stupid skull hurt me with his spells. I hate sorcerers and the likes." With a sigh, she sat down, leaning against a rock, gnawing on her piece of fruit.

"So we take a rest, then." Valen said and started putting off some parts of his armour, except for his breast plate.

"It must be quite uncomfortable, wearing this thing all day." Chathi stated, looking up from her food. "I could not wear these. I rely on light armour."

"You are cunning. You turn and crouch, jump and roll, always looking for an opportunity to hit the enemy where he is uncovered, hoping that he wouldn't hit you the same time. I fight openly, face to face. The honourable way." Valen straightened his shoulders, seeming very proud of his style of fighting.

Chathi, on the other side, just laughed at him. "That might be true, but it surely is more fun watching me in battle. Two people hitting each other on the head? This isn't very elegant. Not at all."

Valen returned the laughter. "The way the rogue would fight. What happens if you have to fight your enemy in a narrow walk? Where you cannot whirl around or slide to his side unhindered. You would fail."

"Than," Chathi replied, pointing at the bow she laid down next to her, "I would snipe him down before he ever sees me."

The warrior looked down at the longbow. Yes, her bow. What an amazing enchanted weapon. When she used it against the leader of the flesh golems he had a chance to watch. It was made from some kind of blue wood and it had no string at all. But when she needed it, the string appeared magically, shining silvery. It appeared in her fingers and she could pull it immediately. And then the arrow appeared. A sparkling missile, which disappeared after it had hit its target. Whoever made this weapon, he must be amazing at his work.

"This bow," he started after some moments of silence, nodding towards the weapon, "how do you aim with it? I saw that the arrow appears after you took aim. It must be quite difficult to use it."

Chathi touched the surface of the bow with her right hand, smiling at it. "It isn't half as difficult as it seems. The bow helps me. I cannot describe it. When I aim, I know where the arrow will appear. I can sense it. And that helps."

Valen nodded. "Where did you learn it? Fighting with your blades and with the bow, I mean. I've never seen a weapon like this unholy blade you wield."

The ranger stood up and took her khopesh from her belt, holding it in front of her. With a slight flinch of her wrist the blade gloomed again in that black, sickening light. Like before in the halls of the Maker, she moved the weapon through the air, the ashen curtain erecting a wall between her and Valen through which he could hardly see her. With another flinch of her wrist, the enchantment was gone in an instant.

"Telling you about this weapon means telling you about my past." She scowled at Valen. "I would give you information on a topic very personal. It seems that we are from two different worlds. I was born on Toril and never saw another plane. You," she pointed at Valen with her khopesh, "told me you were born in Sigil. I do not know of a place called Sigil. It is not located in Thay, or in Unther, for that matter. Or in Mulhorand, where I was born. However, these three countries are known for abyssal, infernal and celestial half-breeds. It is almost certain that a tiefling born in another country would be killed immediately after birth, because of the horrified parents. Faerûnian deities will never mate with mortals. And only few would share the bed with devils, demons or angels. Thus, I guess you are not from this plane."

The look she gave him was superior. She proved that she possessed some knowledge and it seemed that she thought it was something special. Still, Valen was impressed, though a bit disappointed that she had ever heard of Sigil. He went quiet for minutes, pondering what to do next. There wasn't any sign of Cavallas. With a look at Chathi he made a decision.

"Maybe it is time to trade some stories." His words put a surprised look on Chathi's features. "Both of us proved our value in this task. I would like to hear about your country, where you learned fighting the way you fight and why you left your country. In exchange, I would tell you a tale or two about myself."

Again there was silence. Chathi seemed stricken, unsure what she should do. Finally, she took a breath and turned toward Valen. "Promise me that you will never call me baatezu in this disgusted tone and we have a deal. Otherwise I am not interested." Her look was stern and it was clear that she would not accept a no.

But she probably was right. They were on the same side here and his private dispute could wait until the immediate problem was solved.

Valen nodded his agreement.

"Fine." Chathi nodded as well. Her features softened visibly. "About this weapon," she raised the curved blade, then put it down again, "it is a khopesh. A weapon quite common in Mulhorand. It is used instead of the longsword, which is popular throughout Faerûn. But not in Mulhorand."

"What's so special about Mulhorand? I get the feeling everything is different in this country." Valen gave her a lopsided grin.

The stern look on her face reappeared. "Do not make fun of Mulhorand. The Mulan are proud and arrogant people. Indeed, they think of Mulhorand as something special. But see, it is quite an ancient empire, one of the oldest on all of Faerûn. Its capital, Skuld it's called, is the oldest constantly inhabited city in Faerûn. And it never was invaded." She spoke these words with great pride and Valen understood that although she wasn't fully Mulan she certainly felt like one.

"Please, continue." He bade her and she nodded.

"I got the khopesh from my father. The mortal part of my parents. To fight with it, I learned at the temple of Set, where I dwelt for some years. To fight with khopesh and shortsword, I learned from my next master, a ranger. He also taught me to use the bow. And everything else I need to know as a ranger. Though there doesn't exist a word for ranger in the Mulhorandi tongue. The forests are few and human guardians of them are unknown. But what I did would be what a ranger would do. So I call myself ranger. Now it's your turn." Valen looked startled. "I told you what you wanted to know. Now you answer a question of mine."

Now he understood, because he nodded. "Then ask and I will answer if I can."

"Tell me," she stared at a point behind Valen, "tell me about Sigil. Tell me where it is, what it is like to live there. I want to know."

With another nod, Valen began his tale. "Sigil is the capital of a world called Planescape. It is indeed located on a different plane than Toril. Almost every planetar walked its street at some point of her life. I am sure you will lay eyes on it sooner or later, because reaching it isn't as difficult as reaching other planes. Sigil is also called the City of Many Doors. Portals to almost every existing plane can be found there, though it is quite difficult to find exactly the portal you need. And," a dreamy grin appeared on his face, "you might walk through a door to your favourite tavern and you might find yourself on the plane of fire, because you passed a portal and didn't know it. It is possible that the portal appears there one day and is gone the other."

Chathi's eyes widened at his words. "How can one know which way is safe to walk?"

Valen frowned. "There is none to know about. You are never safe in the streets of Sigil. Demons and devils walk there and if they are hungry they eat. And then it doesn't matter what you are. But although you might never encounter a pit fiend, there is always the law of the Lady of Pains who rules over Sigil. She pretty much makes sure that you won't enjoy your stay."

"That doesn't sound like a nice place to travel to." Chathi smiled weakly at him. He froze. The smile was so sympathetic, it showed a side of her that seemed to be buried deep behind her layers and layers of wickedness. But it was gone in an instant.

"It isn't. Not at all." Valen finally said flatly. "Though Toril is an alien place for me to be, I wouldn't go back to Sigil voluntarily. Never." His face went grim then and Chathi didn't press any further.

"I called my khopesh Father's Death." She summoned the unholy enchantment once again, changing the topic back to her own story. "It was my first weapon and I prefer to die with it in my hands."

Valen looked at the weapon, grateful that the talk about Sigil was put away. "Why did you name it like that? Did your father give it to you when he died?"

She flashed him a wicked smirk. "No. In fact I---"

Her sentence was interrupted by the boat they waited for reaching the shore and Cavallas stepping onto the ground of the island. "I am back and ready to take you to your desired destination." His voice sent a shiver down Valen's and Chathi's spine.

"Take us back to Lith My'athar." Chathi answered after Valen gave her a confirming nod. Cavallas bowed and motioned for them to enter the boat.

Chathi went first, Fah behind her. Valen remained on the isle a moment.

"Come, there is no need to stay!" the ranger called from the boat, but Valen didn't move.

"You didn't finish your sentence." He answered, anxious to hear more from this mysterious weapon.

"Come up here and I will tell you." She replied, leaning casually on the railing, waiting. With a brief nod, Valen entered the boat. "You really want to know?" she asked him, one brow raised.

Valen nodded.

"The weapon belonged to my father who was a soldier in Skuld. To make a long story short…" her gaze drifted away over the water that passed by, "…I killed him and my stepmother with the blade and took it with me. Thus, it earned its name. Father's Death."

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Lith My'athar didn't look any different than when they left it two days ago. The training of the troops continued and the tension between the followers of Eilistraee and the members of house Maeviir grew with every day. On their way to the temple of Lolth they encountered a heated argument between the two groups. Chathi pondered if she should go between them for a moment but finally decided that she really didn't care. There were more important things to do. Valen hesitated. He knew that these little fights in their ranks would slowly destroy this weak alliance. However, he didn't think he was in the position to side with one of them, so he kept quiet and trotted behind the ranger. He wasn't pleased with the situation.

When they entered the temple they were already awaited. The Seer greeted them with a friendly and comforting smile and Chathi immediately felt welcome. She couldn't hide her pleased smile when she told the priestess of their actions on the Isle of the Maker.

"So we can be sure that these golems will support us in the final battle. This is good to hear. You have done well." The Seer nodded at Chathi, then at Valen, who straightened himself in an instant. "However, the defeat of the Maker is another thing. I am not sure if he would have allied with the Valsharess, but although I detest thinking about it, I am sure that you have done the best you could." She stopped for a moment, her gaze lingered on Valen for a moment. Right after he and Chathi entered the temple he took his position next to the priestess. It seemed a most comfortable place for him. "For today, there is nothing more you can do, Chathi." Her gaze returned to the woman in front of her. "You should rest and prepare yourself for the things to come. I will spend some time with Valen and Commander Imloth, discussing our next steps. Nathyrra will attend, as well, I am sure. But you should allow yourself some time to relax. Your room will have everything you need."

Chathi looked at her questioningly. "Am I not allowed to take part in this meeting?" She frowned, not sure what to make of all of this. Didn't they trust her? Was there still something to prove herself? Annoyance welled in her.

"Although we do think of you as a most valuable ally we do not know you yet. The four of us always plan the next steps together. I would say we are-"

"-a good team." Chathi interrupted, her red eyes glowing. "I understand." She clenched and unclenched her fists, then, without bothering to spend any more time on this conversation, she whirled around and went out. The Seer remained behind, looking unsure.

"She tends to have some outbursts, I would say." Valen mumbled after Chathi had left the temple. "But she is quite useful. Lively, but very useful."

The Seer looked at him, a pained smile on her delicate features. "It seems the both of you made a good team on that island. You have to tell me about the past two days."

Valen nodded and left the main room together with the priestess.

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With Fah in tow, Chathi trotted through the streets of Lith My'athar. For the first time in years she felt truly lost. The lack of starlight bothered her, the lack of sunlight even more. In the halls of the Maker she finally lost all sense of day and night and she didn't waste a thought on it then. But now she had time to think, with no Valen around and no immediate danger in her neck. Like in most of these times, she realized that she didn't like thinking disturbing thoughts.

Lith My'athar seemed boring and lifeless to her. To her, the drow in this city spend their time either with martial training or with stupid arguments.

Her wandering continued for many minutes until she reached the market place. There was nothing of interest but she stayed there for a while, looking at some weapons, shields and other items and selling most of the stuff she looted from the corpses and the chests back on the Isle of the Maker. Bargaining with the drow, however, proved quite difficult and she left the market place even more annoyed.

Suddenly she entertained thoughts of leaving the rebel drow to themselves, searching for a way back to the surface. Like she would care what happens to them. All of this was nothing but a simple coincidence. Nothing she had to worry about. She might leave them all and find her own way back.

She thought about it a moment longer, than she shook her head. This was most important, she reminded herself. Three days ago she swore loyalty to the Seer and her cause. And loyalty was something Chathi valued highly.

A loud sigh escaped her mouth and the ranger kneeled down besides her leopard companion, burying her face deep into the fur of the great cat. "At least you are here as well. Though it pains me that I brought you to such danger. Forgive me, my friend."

Fah only purred and put her huge paw on Chathi's thigh. It was a most comforting gesture and for a moment ranger and cat remained there, in a quiet alleyway, taking refuge in their tight bond of friendship.

Then, the door of a house at the end of the alleyway, on the opposite side of a broad street, opened and a small group of drow stepped onto the street. Chathi raised her head and stared at them. She couldn't make out where they came from, so she stood up and headed for the house. It appeared to be a public place, the doors weren't locked and occasionally drow went in and out.

Chathi hesitated for only a moment, then she took heart and pushed the doors open.

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Though the rooms the female tiefling entered seemed to her like some kind of tavern, it lacked everything she knew of taverns from the surface, except the drinks. The place was dark, the floor was covered in mosaics in black and blue only visible because of the ever present glow of the fairy fires. The sparse furniture were black as well with more tables than chairs. Most of the drow guests stood somewhere in the rooms while other took a seat in large cushions in the corners.

Quietly Chathi went to a corner and searched the rooms for several minutes. There wasn't much of interest to her. But a proud looking drow female in the middle of the main room caught her attention. The interest seemed likewise. Chathi felt herself observed by the female as well. A chill went down her spine and she decided that she didn't like a stranger watching her so intensely. With her hand on the hilt of her khopesh she approached the woman cautiously.

"You are the surfacer everyone is talking about. So we meet at last. I feared you would never come." The voice of the drow was seductive though a bit deep. Chathi decided that she didn't like her.

"Speak quickly, tell me what you want from me. If you have waited for me you know what you want to say. Do not waste my time, it is a precious thing." Chathi's voice was sharp and she spoke slowly, using every possibility to flash her pointed teeth at the drow.

"Your tongue proves to be sharp, but this won't be of any use to you. I have an offer to make, accept it or leave me be."

"Then make your offer as long as I am interested in the likes of you. Which might not last long, mind you." Chathi replied acidly.

"My, my, my," the female shook her head playfully, "you surely aren't the easy one. So I make it quick. My name is Zesyyr. I am the daughter of the matron mother of house Maeviir."

"And so you are here, in a public house, far away from your beloved mother. How I pity you." The sarcasm in Chathi's voice was ignored by Zesyyr.

"Right now I am merely an outcast. My mother fears me, fears the possibility that I might plot against her, reaching out for the leadership of our house."

"I guess her fears proved true." Chathi said like it was fact.

Zesyyr only nodded. "You possess some knowledge on our kind. Then this conversation will be over shortly. I need you to kill my mother."

Chathi laughed out loud, though it was quite a short laughter. "Of course you do!" she cried, grinning widely. "But why would I even care? These are your affairs. There is nothing of value for me."

Now it was Zesyyr's turn to laugh. "You are wrong, rivvil. This became an affair of yours as well. See, my mother is weak. House Maeviir is weak. When the Valsharess will march into Lith My'athar my mother will be the first to change sides. But I am of stronger will. I will not bow before the Valsharess. Thus my army will fight on your side to the end. Tell me, rivvil, is this of more value to you?"

"I demand something in exchange for my efforts. They are not cheap." Chathi answered without thinking twice.

"What do you need?" Zesyyr replied immediately.

"Though I value information on a certain subject more than anything else I am quite sure you can't offer me something like that. Money would be sufficient."

"You rivvil are mercenaries." The ambitious daughter smiled wickedly. "I offer you gems worth 20,000 gold pieces."

Chathi went silent for a moment, thinking carefully. "What kind of gems?" Her mind was working, calculating, searching in her memories for the gems she knew of.

"King's Tears. Five of them. They are rare on the surface and even rarer down here."

Five King's Tears. Selling them to the right merchant might fill her pockets with even more than the promised 20,000 gold pieces. "Agreed. What should I do?"

"So we have a deal!" Zesyyr clasped her hands together, growing excited. Then she searched for something in the pockets of her robes. "Take this," she handed a small, silver ring to Chathi. "The guards of house Maeviir are loyal to me. Show them the ring, meet my mother and kill her. Be fast and do it cleanly. There is not much time."

Chathi took the ring, slid it into a belt pouch, nodded briefly and left the public house immediately after the conversation.