Chapter 15

The half-elf pair entered a large chamber, the ceiling over thirty feet above. Two large stone doors lay at the other end of the room to the north, and on the western side stood a gate of wrought iron. Elegant carvings of dwarves working at their forges adorned the walls, and several old skeletons littered the floor near the northern door. In the center of the room lay a natural rift, dozen of stone steps leading into its darkness.

Faelar whistled lowly, "Wow." Was all he managed to say.

Saeola nodded in agreement, wide eyes roaming about the room. Her gaze then paused on the stone steps before cautiously approaching them. "Let's not linger."

"...An' let's not stand right there." Faelar yanked Saeola back, noticing a pressure plate just in front of where she stood, "Looks like there're some traps in dis room." A collection of snarls and metal clinking made the thief sigh, "...An' more damn orcs."

Saeola made a face. "Figures." She lifted her blade, turning her back to Faelar to face two large orcs.

As the first two monsters charged on Saeola, another duo came out and went for Faelar. The rogue withdrew his sword and dagger, crouching down to spring. He ducked the first one's ax swing, twisting around to stab upwards -- only to be tripped by the second orc. Faelar dodged another attack as he barely managed to regain his balance. "Oh, so it's dirty fighting ya want, eh?" He laughed, "Den you'll get dirty fightin'!"

Saeola dodged the two orcs as they attacked at once, leaping over them. She flipped and landed on her feet to face their backs, whirling around and launching her sword into the back of one's head. She quickly yanked it free, moving out of the way just as the second orc swung, hitting his dead buddy instead of his actual target.

Faelar, in the meantime, tapped one of the axes on the side as it passed him by. The weapon shook and suddenly shot towards its companion's ax, clanging into the other weapon as if pulled by magnetic force. While the orcs tried to separate their axes, Faelar leapt above them and kicked them each in the side of the head, sending their skulls to slam into each other. Dazed, the monsters stumbled, and Faelar took this chance to drive a blade into each of their hearts.

Saeola drove her blade into the second orc's heart as well, pulling away and dodging to the side as the large beast fell onto his other dead comrade.

Faelar flicked his blades to remove the blood off of them, then sheathed the weapons and turned to the ranger, giving her a thumbs-up. "Pretty bloody good, dove." He grinned.

She smirked at him, resting her bloody blade on one shoulder. "Thanks. Shall we continue?"

"Indeed, I thin--" He stopped, straining an ear. "...Do ya 'ear dat strange buzzin'?" He looked in direction of the stairs and the hole they led into.

Saeola went quiet but gave him a questioning look. She followed his gaze and listened until she heard it too. "Yeah," She whispered. "What is that..?"

"...Something not good." Indeed, the rogue was right -- a moment later, four large flying things -- birds, insects, bats, it was hard to tell -- emerged from the stairwell and arrowed towards the pair, buzzing loudly.

"Damn!" Saeola swore, discarding her sword and quickly drawing an arrow, firing into the group of striges. The arrow struck one through the head, sending the monster spiraling to the ground, but the three remaining came on. Faelar drew his short sword again, using Glorykiller to swat at the flying creatures in an attempt to keep them back. One dodged his movements and latched onto his bicep.

Faelar's eyebrow twitched and he attempted to yank the strige off. When that failed, he stabbed through what he supposed was its stomach. The stirge gurgled in death and its grip loosened. Faelar pulled it off then, blood spewing forth from his bicep where it had latched on to him. "Oh, great. Dey're bloodsuckers. Dat's no fun."

"Ahhh!" Saeola yelped as one got her as well. Quickly she slammed an arrow into the creature's head, pushing hard until its grip loosened and she could yank it off, crushing it underneath her foot with a shiver. "I HATE these things!"

"Who likes 'em?" Faelar asked, taunting the final strige. The irritated monster dove at him, and once it came close enough, Faelar poked it with a "Doink!" and it instantly died, screeching as it crumbled to the ground. "Someone call a janitor fer clean-up, eh?" The thief laughed, apparently oblivious to the gushing wound in his right arm.

Saeola chuckled, rubbing the place on her thigh where the strige had gotten her. "Yeah. It's not good for us to leave a trail like this, but what can you do?"

"Well, ya can do dis." Faelar leaned down and tapped her wound while muttering something arcane, a piece of paper clenched in one hand. The wound began to close on its own, though somewhat slowly. "Heh. Ain't regeneration scrolls great? Dat actually should be in effect fer a while, so any new wounds ya get will slowly start to close themselves."

"Thanks... Make sure to use that spell for yourself too."

"...Eh... I only 'ad one scroll wit me."

"..." Saeola suddenly thwacked him on the side of the head. Not too hard, but hard enough to hurt. "You idiot! Then don't waste it on me!"

"Eh, whot's a li'l blood an' pain? Lets me know I'm alive. I jus' need ta find some old cloth ta make a tourniquet wit'. ...And if ya ask me, dove, it ain't wasted on ya." The rogue stuck his tongue out at her.

"Feh. You're so stupid..." Saeola quickly ripped both her sleeves off, tying them together before handing the joined cloth to his wound, putting pressure on it. "Here, this'll help."

"We coulda used da orcs' sleeves, ya know." Faelar pointed out, but accepted her cloth nonetheless, "Thanks."

Saeola made a face at him. "They're soaked in blood. That's gross."

"Not da sleeves on da ones I killed. Still... Da ripped sleeves look suits ya, dove." Faelar grinned, "Remind me ta buy ya a new shirt when we get back ta Blasingdell."

Saeola glared at him, but the effect was ruined due to her flushed face. "Let's just get going..." She muttered.

"Righ... but where? I'm not so sure about dat north door... dose skeletons look scorched... prolly a fire trap... an' I doubt dose gates will move easily... so... down it is?" He pointed at the stairs leading into darkness.

Saeola nodded. "That's where I was thinking. Here, hold the cloth to your wound and follow me." She took her hand and placed it over the cloth (as if he couldn't figure it out himself) before leading the way carefully down the stairs.

- - - - -

The two half-elves descended slowly and quietly down the winding stone steps. After descending some sixty or so feet, a rushing stream spilled down from a narrow crack to their left and crossed through the stairway. Faelar jumped the small width of water, removing his hand from his wound to balance himself against the wall.

Saeola followed right after him, staggering a bit as the jump caused pain in her leg. It may be healing slowly, but it was still painful. Now behind the other half-elf, she peered past him. "Still a ways to go..."

"Yeah... ya'd think da dwarves would carve short stairways cuz all da buggers've got stubby legs..."

Saeola snickered. "Careful. I heard they were sensitive about that."

Faelar chuckled, "Maybe, but rememba, Celdern told us da dwarves 'ere all died ova a century ago. I'm guessin' it was from an orc raid."

"Yeah... It's a pity. I've never gotten to actually meet a dwarf before."

"Really?" Faelar asked, somewhat surprised, "Dere were a few in Blasingdell. Didn't talk ta any of dem?"

"No. Never got around to it, I suppose."

"Well, we've got a fair amount o' dwarves in Waterdeep. Probably 'bout twice as many 'o dem as dere are 'alf-elves in da City 'o Splendors... Ya eva been ta Waterdeep, dove?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Aw, ya really need ta one day, dove! It's beautiful!" Faelar's brown eyes seemed to take on a far-off gaze for a moment, "Every sort o' race an' religion an' culture kin be found dere. Sure, Waterdeep ain't witout its bad parts, but a lot 'o good comes outta dere. Buildings tall as giant trees, great wizard's towers, cobblestone streets, ships pullin' inta port in da Docks District... I betcha 'alf da languages in all o' Faerun are spoken in da Waterdeep marketplace... 'Ells, even da slums are nice in comparison ta other places. I should know..." He turned to the ranger with a wide grin, "I'm gonna drag you ova dere one o' dese days."

Saeola smiled, closing her eyes briefly to try and picture this place. "Hm... Sounds very nice and peaceful. I would love to go there sometime."

"Heh... well, peaceful only if ya know where ta go, which... I do." The rogue gave another of his trademark smirks. "Maybe we can bug da Boss into travelin' dere one day, eh? Ya could see where I grew up... not dat it's dat interestin' or you would care, though."

Saeola's eyes fluttered back open. "Hey, I care... I think it would very nice."

"Ya wanna look in Waterdeep's 'igher slums? Why?"

"Why not?"

"Dunno... jus' don' see why it'd interest you."

"Well... Because... It's where you were born." She muttered shyly, averting her gaze to some interesting speck on the far wall.

"Well... I... Wasn't born dere." Faelar admitted, "I was born... well... somewhere even further south dan 'ere."

"Oh?" Her gaze returned to him. "Where would that be?"

Faelar shrugged, "Somewhere around da edge o' Chondalwood, to da east 'o 'ere an' north 'o The Shar, I think. I'm... not really sure. I don't rememba dat well. Me ma moved wit me ta Waterdeep afta me Da was killed in some 'unting 'accident' about thirteen years ago... I think I was five den ... though sometimes I wonder if it was less o' an accident an' more o' 'is tribe punishin' 'im fer joinin' wit a 'uman an' spawnin' a 'alf-breed bastard." Faelar snorted and rolled his eyes.

"...Ah. You weren't one of the lucky ones. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

"Naw, it's all right. Me mum always said I'm lucky I didn't get all o' me da's traits -- too serious 'e was 'alf da time, she said. I could always make 'er laugh." The thief grinned, "Least dere was one person I could get a chuckle out of even as I was raisin' all da Nine 'Ells in da 'ouse." He laughed at the memory. "Whot 'bout you, dove? Yer da nature sort... were ya raised by yer elven parent?"

Saeola blinked, not expecting him to ask her about her own past. She rubbed the back of head and shrugged slightly. "Yeah... My mom. I did get to see my dad on occasions, though."

"I suppose yer mom's family an' tribe didn' like 'er an' you 'anging around 'umans much, huh?" Both knew how reclusive full-blooded wild elves were.

"Yes, of course. My mom was eventually abandoned by the tribe. My dad wanted us both to come live with him, but my mom wanted me to learn the ways of the elves. So we left to find our own home together. My dad came to visit every now and then. Sometimes he took me back to his place and I learned about human culture as well. Best of both worlds, I guess."

"Lucky you. No wonder I'm more at 'ome in da city... me da' didn't even take me into da woods while 'e was alive. 'E snuck away ta see me an' Mum usually once a tenday or so... 'Is tribe didn' even know 'bout me an' Mum 'til a few days before 'e died. He was a pretty good 'unter, didn't save 'im in da end, I guess... 'Ad a knack fer magic, too... Guess I got dat from 'im, eh?"

"I'd guess so. But... did you learn to fight like that on your own or did your dad teach you?"

Faelar shrugged, "Da' showed me a few minor tricks fer fun, but dat's it. I started out as a pitpocket so Mum could pay bills an' keep me in school, an' when da occasional bully tried ta pick on me, I jus' made 'im look like an idiot by fightin'... Often by jus' movin' around a lot an' tirin' dem out. I've always been a quick li'l bastard." He grinned wider this time.

Saeola smirked. "Quick bastard indeed. I can vouch for that. Heh."

Faelar smirked back with a shrug, suddenly remembering to press his hand back against his bleeding bicep, "I try me best."

Saeola chuckled and finally they had reached the end, her feet leaving the steps. She glanced around carefully. "I don't hear any orcs... yet."

"No... But... eh... let's keep it down." Faelar pointed up at the ceiling to a horde of sleeping striges, "I'd rather not fight any more 'o dem... so let's jus' creep along, eh?" He whispered. Saeola nodded silently in agreement, and the half-elf duo quietly crept through and out of the cavern.

Well, that's all I have for now… there's plenty of more stuff written, but, unfortunately, that does not include the next few chapters – I have to go back and fill in that "gap"; I'll try my best to get the next part of the story up soon, but remember I'm in college now and SL's in her senior year of high school, so it may be a little while before this updates. Then again, maybe not so long. We'll see.