Disclaimer : The weirdest thing happened when I sat down to write this. My
lungs stopped, my breathing faltered, and my eyes started to itch and burn
like I was gonna cry at any time... and then I sneezed. No joke! (sigh) So
here I am, summer has arrived. RAS still owns all of his characters.
(sighs again)
Mirror Me Dark
By Semdai Bloodquill
Chapter Nine : Black Pegasus
Nessa had come to love the snow. It was everything that a drow was not... except cold of course. Snow was white where drow skin was black. Snow was soft and pure where drow were twisted and corrupt. Snowflakes bonded together to become a greater masterpiece, but drow stayed alone and wove their own meaningless tapestries, destroying the work of others to better their own pieces. For these reasons, Nessa loved Icewind Dale.
It was not a place of warm, summer sunshine. Nor was it a place of new spring grass reaching up through the decay of the winter's fall or autumn leaves falling like flashes of brown, yellow, red, and orange fire. Neither was it a place of rain, gentle drizzles or roaring thunderstorms. No. Icewind Dale was a place of snow. A kingdom of white, cold and barren but in its own way beautiful. For freshly fallen, virgin snow is white and pure like the feathers of an angel's wings.
But sometimes the purest of things lasts but a sparse few seconds. After Montolio had looked his last at the flaming light spreading over the snow from the rising sun, the sky had returned to its customary gray and cloudy. But the clouds were darker than the norm and once the sun had cleared from the horizon, they began to pour heavy drops of water down on the perfect snow. And the angel feather snow turned gray as old ashes.
It seemed fitting to the grieving family.
Binx buried her face in her father's shoulder. Drizzt held his daughter tightly, sharing her feelings. Sordath stood silently beside Binx, a mournful expression in his yellow eyes and a wounded look to his posture. Nessa lay on her side in the slush beside Monty's grave, crying softly. Reigaldus knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.
Dinin stared at the grave with mixed emotion. He understood that they were sad over Monty's death. But he did not understand why.
Bruenor exited the caverns several hours later to find that the rain was coming down harder and in sheets of hail and freezing water. In the midst of it all was Drizzt, his white hair and cloak being tossed by the violent winds, standing alone beside his son's grave, his tears lost in the downpour. The old dwarf marched out into the elements to stand beside his friend. Bruenor stopped beside Drizzt and matched the drow's stance.
"Why are we here, Bruenor," Drizzt asked quietly, his posture not changing.
"I'm out here 'cuz you want to freeze yerself to death 'cuz ya feel bad fer yer kid," Bruenor answered gruffly.
"I mean why are we here in Icewind Dale instead of Mithril Hall," Drizzt corrected.
"Because there's nuthin ter do there," Bruenor reasoned, "cuz the Dale here is home to us."
"Monty called this place home," Drizzt said sadly, "he wasn't born here, but he called it home. None of us were born here except Wulfgar, but it's still home. It's home because we are all here, together." Drizzt still did not take his eyes off his son's grave. "All the happiness, the triumphs, the struggles, and the memories we have here make it home."
"And it's still home, ya know," Bruenor reminded.
"But part of it is missing," Drizzt mourned quietly, "a piece that could never be replaced is lost now."
"Bah," Bruenor snorted, nudging Drizzt in the ribs, "it's only lost ter yer eyes. If ya know where ta look, ya never loose anything, elf. Now come on inside and calm yer girl down before she does something stupid." Drizzt looked down at Bruenor and felt a small piece of a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. He smiled at the old dwarf.
"You're right, Bruenor," Drizzt agreed, "besides, Monty wouldn't want me to freeze to death out here staring at his grave while his mother and siblings are waiting inside."
"That's the elf I know," Bruenor cheered, "let's go in an warm up."
Just as the pair was turning to leave a great bellow shook the sky and a dark shape passed overhead. Bruenor had his axe out in an instant.
"What was that," the dwarf exclaimed.
"It looked like a dragon," Drizzt puzzled, "too small though. Might by a drake or a young wyrm but why would it come here?"
The shape passed over them again, lower this time and moving in a circle like a vulture. A bolt of lightning split the sky and brought a startled roar from the shape as it fell from the air, landing hard several meters away from them. Weapons ready, Drizzt and Bruenor rushed to the site.
"Not one of your better landings I take it, Melkor," a female voice asked in exasperation. Drizzt and Bruenor slowed their approach.
"Storms do not make for good landings," a deep, male voice retorted.
"Are you hurt, Lazuli," the female voice asked. Sounds of another female getting up heavily made their way to Drizzt's keen ears. The dark elf lifted his hood over his head.
"Not badly," another female voice answered, "I'll be fine. How's Melkor?"
"I can walk but I believe my wings have been injured," the male replied darkly.
"Wonderful," the first female said sarcastically.
Drizzt and Bruenor stopped several paces from the trio and were awarded a sight neither had ever thought possible. Two women in traveling clothes were leaning against a young black dragon. The dragon lay on his side, his heavy breath making clouds of steam.
"Could you lend us some help, good sirs," one woman asked when she looked up and saw Drizzt and Bruenor, "we're heading to Icewind Dale and directions to Kelvin's Cairn would be much appreciated."
"You've reached Icewind Dale already," Bruenor barked, "but why'd ya come on a dragon? Caravans too outdated?"
"Caravans aren't fast enough for our purposes," the second woman remarked, "do you know a place where we can wait out this storm?" Drizzt and Bruenor looked at each other for a while.
"Kelvin's Cairn is just over there," Drizzt pointed the way, "you can hole up there."
"Our gratitude kind drow and good dwarf," the first woman thanked, "my name is Seivriel, this is Lazuli," she pointed to the second woman, "and this is Melkor," she patted the dragon's head as if he were a favored pet.
"This is Bruenor Battlehammer," Drizzt introduced, indicating his dwarven comrade, "and I am Drizzt Do'Urden." Lazuli shifted at the mention of the drow's name.
"Well met," Seivriel greeted, "pray tell, are rainstorms a common thing this far north?"
"This one's a puzzle sure enough," Bruenor grumbled.
The dragon, Melkor, stood up and tried to stretch his wings. His left wing barely reached arm-length before he was forced to fold it back again in pain.
"Does it hurt that much," Seivriel inquired, gently stroking the injured wing.
"It will be healed by morning," Melkor assured, "for now, may we take our leave of this storm?"
"This way," Drizzt offered, leading the way to the entrance to the mines.
Melkor was just able to crawl into Bruenor's audience chamber, much to the surprise of the dwarves inside. Drizzt heard Seivriel said something to Melkor in a language that he didn't understand. The dragon chortled and settled himself off to the side of the hall.
"He'll stay there until the storm ends," Seivriel said to Drizzt, "then he'll go outside again. He doesn't like the indoors."
"How did you manage to tame him," Drizzt dared to inquire.
"I think it's more the other way around," Seivriel explained, "he stays with me because I give him room and board in exchange for small services like this one."
"So what brings ye to the Dale," Bruenor asked as he joined them.
"Actually, I'm just an escort," Seivriel clarified, "Lazuli's the one with business here."
"I'm looking for someone," Lazuli said from her place on the floor beside Melkor, "I am on a mission of the greatest importance."
"Ye look familiar," Bruenor puzzled, studying Lazuli, "have we met before?"
"You know my father," Lazuli offered, "have you ever been to Calimport?"
"Artemis Entreri if my instinct serve me right," Drizzt said simply.
"That's correct, Master Do'Urden," Lazuli confirmed, "but I'm not here because of my father, despite what you might be thinking. I came here in search of someone who may be able to help someone very dear to me."
"Who do you seek," Drizzt prompted her to continue.
"I was given only the name of 'Seralon' beyond that I have no leads," Lazuli said.
"I know a Seralon," piped a cheerful voice from one of the side passages, "depends on what sex you mean."
"The Seralon I search for is female," Lazuli specified as Reigaldus exited the passage.
"You want my sister then," the eccentric drow decided, "but good luck trying to talk with her."
"What's that supposed to mean," Lazuli demanded.
"Nessa is mourning at the moment," Drizzt explained, sadness clear in his voice, "our oldest son died last night." Lazuli softened.
"I'm sorry," she offered, "how did he die?"
"Nessa said it was The Plague," Drizzt replied softly.
Lazuli's stomach did a somersault in fear. If Nessa couldn't save her own son from the elven plague, then how could she be expected to save Jarlaxle?
Terrell Dathane carefully digested the news. Lazuli Entreri had not returned to the city, gone as she was on some extended mission. Her father, the legendary Artemis Entreri, had stayed behind with Jarlaxle, who was apparently not in the best of health. It seemed a perfect opportunity for the leader of the Night Eyes Guild to eliminate the possible threat to their supremacy.
Still, Terrell was not a rash or hasty leader. The two Entreris were both powerful, despite their respective ages, and their drow companion was not to be counted lightly, sick or well. A week had passed since Lazuli had left and there was no word that she might be returning any time soon. That would give the guild's soldiers confidence that the female Entreri would not interrupt a possible assassination. If they could somehow kill the remaining pair, a trap could be set for Lazuli if or when she returned.
But would that bring any real gain to the guild? Of course the heads of Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri would bring untold respect to the fledgling guild and probably even raise them a few ranks in the city's hierarchy, but what was the point of it all? Terrell Dathane, a hit-man of almost thirty years, carefully weighed the pros and cons of his situation. What if their attempt failed? What vengeful retribution might befall them if even one of the powerful trio survived?
The latter prospect was more than a little unnerving.
Terrell gave the order to keep close eyes on the remaining two. If the chance to get one of them alone presented itself, it could be taken if possible. Terrell Dathane prayed for luck to be with them.
Zandrath rode his lizard mount in silence. Behind him stretched the Baenre army, three hundred fifty hundred well trained foot soldiers, fifty lizard riders, and seventy battle ready clerics, all marching in silence. Dagasta came up beside Zandrath on his own lizard.
'Are you excited,' the patron asked in the hand code of the dark elves.
'Excited is the wrong word,' Zandrath returned glumly.
'Anxious then,' Dagasta corrected.
'Anxious, stressed, confused,' Zandrath admitted, 'need I go on?'
'It's because you've never seen the surface before,' Dagasta explained.
'Have you ever been there,' the younger drow asked.
'Once,' the Baenre patron replied, 'I have a brother and a sister living up there.'
'Why are they up there,' Zandrath asked eagerly.
'Because they hate the ways of our people,' Dagasta explained, 'I would join them, but my part in our family's plan is not yet over. Once my mission has been completed, I will leave the Underdark and join them.'
'Will you take me with you?'
It seemed more a plea than a question to Dagasta. It made his heart sore.
'If it were my choice, I would have taken you and your brother to the surface as soon as we were able to,' the old patron lamented, 'my sister would have welcomed us in a heartbeat, but my mission was not yet complete.'
'What is your mission,' Zandrath dare to ask.
' I wish I could tell you,' was all Dagasta could say.
Zandrath left the conversation at that and returned to his thoughts. So he wasn't alone in his temperament. So there were other drow like him and his father out there. And best of all, he had a real family somewhere on the surface. A great weight was lifted from his shoulders.
Zandrath even dared to hope that he might meet this lost family someday.
"I know why you're here," the somber drow female stated when Lazuli entered the chamber. The dark elf was sitting in a large armchair, her yellow eyes staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace before her. She seemed tired and sad as she sat heavily in her seat. "I know that you came hoping I could save your friend Jarlaxle," she continued, "and I know that you are crestfallen in the revelation that I could not save my own son from this plague." Lazuli was surprised at how much this strange drow knew.
"Jarlaxle said he knew you from Menzoberranzan," she ventured.
"One of the few pleasant memories I have of the place," Nessa replied, " you'll forgive me, I hope, if I sound cynical in any way."
"No harm done," Lazuli assured, "I hope I don't come across as impatient."
"If you do, I know it's merely out of concern and I'll take no offense," Nessa returned, "sit if you like." The drow pointed to a chair on the other side of the fireplace. Lazuli sat down.
"I know this must hurt, but I have to ask," she began, "is there anything you can do for Jarlaxle?"
"There may be," Nessa admitted, "with Monty I wasn't sure what it was until it was too late. Now that I know the nature of the disease, I think I can slow it down." Lazuli brightened.
"Then will you come with me back to Calimport," she asked hopefully.
"How long has Jarlaxle been infected," Nessa asked, changing the subject.
"I don't know," Lazuli admitted, "he started showing symptoms about three weeks ago."
"His time is running out then," Nessa sighed, "we should leave as soon as possible."
"You mean you'll come," Lazuli asked eagerly.
"We've stayed here for too long," Nessa said slowly, "dark elves are not a race that does well as a fixed family. Especially ones like us. I will assemble my family. We will accompany you back to Calimport and seek the cure to this plague." Nessa stood slowly as she spoke. "If you would excuse me, Lazuli, I have matters to attend to."
As she left Nessa's chamber it occurred to Lazuli that she had not told Nessa her name.
"These mounts I am giving you will carry you to Calimport," Shiroinohi instructed the two Gold elves, "from there, seek a family of drow whom you will meet there. Tell my name to the one who calls herself 'Nessa' and then you two must lead them here. By then I will have gathered the last of your destined party and the plague can be stopped."
"How will we know this family when we meet them," Zerial asked. Shiroinohi, floating silently ahead of them down the corridor, smiled.
"The youngest of the family will know you," the white queen assured, " however, be careful what you say to him, for though he is a kind soul he is suffering a terrible loss and he will be quick to lash out in sadness."
"So we go to Calimport, find this drow family, and bring them here," Tanarial summarized.
"Correct," the drandil queen confirmed, "the drow family and three others who will be with them."
"How will we get there," Zerial asked.
The white queen led them into a stable. The twins gasped in surprise. Instead of regular horses or even the winter wolves that were so common among the dragon elves, there were pegasi resting in the stalls. Huge, majestic creatures with coats the color of charcoal and eyes like pearls. Several stomped and whinnied when the trio entered.
"Each of these mounts can carry up to three passengers," Shiroinohi notified, patting a particularly large stallion as she passed him, "I'm sending five with you. That way any unexpected passengers can accompany you." The twins wondered what the white queen knew that they didn't.
Deudermont gave out the orders with fervor and the crew bustled to obey them. The old captain studied the map he had been given. The map depicted the southern half of the Sword Coast in perfect detail, leaving no settlement left unnamed and every island labeled.
But, what really made the map unique to Deudermont's eyes was the port city several miles north of Memnon. He'd never heard of the city, but the southern captain who had given him the map had said that if he was looking for a stolen ship that city would be the place to start looking.
"Awaiting your course Captain," one of the deck hands notified briskly.
"Set the course for south southeast," Deudermont ordered, "skim the coast and watch for this city." The old captain pointed to the map.
"Out Haven, sir," the crewman asked.
"Out Haven," Deudermont confirmed.
To be continued...
To all the faithful and loyal readers of this sorry piece of fanfiction: the next update may be a while in getting posted. The reason for this is that I am going to start looking for a summer job and wont have a whole lot of free time. Plus the computer I've been using belongs to my parents and I can only use it when they're not home or I'm doing school work. My plan of action to combat this is I will find myself a job, save up the money, and buy my own computer. Plan is pathetic, I know, but it's the best one I have and it beats collecting pop can money at the bottle returns (money I have to split with my brother). So yeah. Please have patience with my incompetence and flame if you can't.
Semdai Bloodquill
Mirror Me Dark
By Semdai Bloodquill
Chapter Nine : Black Pegasus
Nessa had come to love the snow. It was everything that a drow was not... except cold of course. Snow was white where drow skin was black. Snow was soft and pure where drow were twisted and corrupt. Snowflakes bonded together to become a greater masterpiece, but drow stayed alone and wove their own meaningless tapestries, destroying the work of others to better their own pieces. For these reasons, Nessa loved Icewind Dale.
It was not a place of warm, summer sunshine. Nor was it a place of new spring grass reaching up through the decay of the winter's fall or autumn leaves falling like flashes of brown, yellow, red, and orange fire. Neither was it a place of rain, gentle drizzles or roaring thunderstorms. No. Icewind Dale was a place of snow. A kingdom of white, cold and barren but in its own way beautiful. For freshly fallen, virgin snow is white and pure like the feathers of an angel's wings.
But sometimes the purest of things lasts but a sparse few seconds. After Montolio had looked his last at the flaming light spreading over the snow from the rising sun, the sky had returned to its customary gray and cloudy. But the clouds were darker than the norm and once the sun had cleared from the horizon, they began to pour heavy drops of water down on the perfect snow. And the angel feather snow turned gray as old ashes.
It seemed fitting to the grieving family.
Binx buried her face in her father's shoulder. Drizzt held his daughter tightly, sharing her feelings. Sordath stood silently beside Binx, a mournful expression in his yellow eyes and a wounded look to his posture. Nessa lay on her side in the slush beside Monty's grave, crying softly. Reigaldus knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.
Dinin stared at the grave with mixed emotion. He understood that they were sad over Monty's death. But he did not understand why.
Bruenor exited the caverns several hours later to find that the rain was coming down harder and in sheets of hail and freezing water. In the midst of it all was Drizzt, his white hair and cloak being tossed by the violent winds, standing alone beside his son's grave, his tears lost in the downpour. The old dwarf marched out into the elements to stand beside his friend. Bruenor stopped beside Drizzt and matched the drow's stance.
"Why are we here, Bruenor," Drizzt asked quietly, his posture not changing.
"I'm out here 'cuz you want to freeze yerself to death 'cuz ya feel bad fer yer kid," Bruenor answered gruffly.
"I mean why are we here in Icewind Dale instead of Mithril Hall," Drizzt corrected.
"Because there's nuthin ter do there," Bruenor reasoned, "cuz the Dale here is home to us."
"Monty called this place home," Drizzt said sadly, "he wasn't born here, but he called it home. None of us were born here except Wulfgar, but it's still home. It's home because we are all here, together." Drizzt still did not take his eyes off his son's grave. "All the happiness, the triumphs, the struggles, and the memories we have here make it home."
"And it's still home, ya know," Bruenor reminded.
"But part of it is missing," Drizzt mourned quietly, "a piece that could never be replaced is lost now."
"Bah," Bruenor snorted, nudging Drizzt in the ribs, "it's only lost ter yer eyes. If ya know where ta look, ya never loose anything, elf. Now come on inside and calm yer girl down before she does something stupid." Drizzt looked down at Bruenor and felt a small piece of a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. He smiled at the old dwarf.
"You're right, Bruenor," Drizzt agreed, "besides, Monty wouldn't want me to freeze to death out here staring at his grave while his mother and siblings are waiting inside."
"That's the elf I know," Bruenor cheered, "let's go in an warm up."
Just as the pair was turning to leave a great bellow shook the sky and a dark shape passed overhead. Bruenor had his axe out in an instant.
"What was that," the dwarf exclaimed.
"It looked like a dragon," Drizzt puzzled, "too small though. Might by a drake or a young wyrm but why would it come here?"
The shape passed over them again, lower this time and moving in a circle like a vulture. A bolt of lightning split the sky and brought a startled roar from the shape as it fell from the air, landing hard several meters away from them. Weapons ready, Drizzt and Bruenor rushed to the site.
"Not one of your better landings I take it, Melkor," a female voice asked in exasperation. Drizzt and Bruenor slowed their approach.
"Storms do not make for good landings," a deep, male voice retorted.
"Are you hurt, Lazuli," the female voice asked. Sounds of another female getting up heavily made their way to Drizzt's keen ears. The dark elf lifted his hood over his head.
"Not badly," another female voice answered, "I'll be fine. How's Melkor?"
"I can walk but I believe my wings have been injured," the male replied darkly.
"Wonderful," the first female said sarcastically.
Drizzt and Bruenor stopped several paces from the trio and were awarded a sight neither had ever thought possible. Two women in traveling clothes were leaning against a young black dragon. The dragon lay on his side, his heavy breath making clouds of steam.
"Could you lend us some help, good sirs," one woman asked when she looked up and saw Drizzt and Bruenor, "we're heading to Icewind Dale and directions to Kelvin's Cairn would be much appreciated."
"You've reached Icewind Dale already," Bruenor barked, "but why'd ya come on a dragon? Caravans too outdated?"
"Caravans aren't fast enough for our purposes," the second woman remarked, "do you know a place where we can wait out this storm?" Drizzt and Bruenor looked at each other for a while.
"Kelvin's Cairn is just over there," Drizzt pointed the way, "you can hole up there."
"Our gratitude kind drow and good dwarf," the first woman thanked, "my name is Seivriel, this is Lazuli," she pointed to the second woman, "and this is Melkor," she patted the dragon's head as if he were a favored pet.
"This is Bruenor Battlehammer," Drizzt introduced, indicating his dwarven comrade, "and I am Drizzt Do'Urden." Lazuli shifted at the mention of the drow's name.
"Well met," Seivriel greeted, "pray tell, are rainstorms a common thing this far north?"
"This one's a puzzle sure enough," Bruenor grumbled.
The dragon, Melkor, stood up and tried to stretch his wings. His left wing barely reached arm-length before he was forced to fold it back again in pain.
"Does it hurt that much," Seivriel inquired, gently stroking the injured wing.
"It will be healed by morning," Melkor assured, "for now, may we take our leave of this storm?"
"This way," Drizzt offered, leading the way to the entrance to the mines.
Melkor was just able to crawl into Bruenor's audience chamber, much to the surprise of the dwarves inside. Drizzt heard Seivriel said something to Melkor in a language that he didn't understand. The dragon chortled and settled himself off to the side of the hall.
"He'll stay there until the storm ends," Seivriel said to Drizzt, "then he'll go outside again. He doesn't like the indoors."
"How did you manage to tame him," Drizzt dared to inquire.
"I think it's more the other way around," Seivriel explained, "he stays with me because I give him room and board in exchange for small services like this one."
"So what brings ye to the Dale," Bruenor asked as he joined them.
"Actually, I'm just an escort," Seivriel clarified, "Lazuli's the one with business here."
"I'm looking for someone," Lazuli said from her place on the floor beside Melkor, "I am on a mission of the greatest importance."
"Ye look familiar," Bruenor puzzled, studying Lazuli, "have we met before?"
"You know my father," Lazuli offered, "have you ever been to Calimport?"
"Artemis Entreri if my instinct serve me right," Drizzt said simply.
"That's correct, Master Do'Urden," Lazuli confirmed, "but I'm not here because of my father, despite what you might be thinking. I came here in search of someone who may be able to help someone very dear to me."
"Who do you seek," Drizzt prompted her to continue.
"I was given only the name of 'Seralon' beyond that I have no leads," Lazuli said.
"I know a Seralon," piped a cheerful voice from one of the side passages, "depends on what sex you mean."
"The Seralon I search for is female," Lazuli specified as Reigaldus exited the passage.
"You want my sister then," the eccentric drow decided, "but good luck trying to talk with her."
"What's that supposed to mean," Lazuli demanded.
"Nessa is mourning at the moment," Drizzt explained, sadness clear in his voice, "our oldest son died last night." Lazuli softened.
"I'm sorry," she offered, "how did he die?"
"Nessa said it was The Plague," Drizzt replied softly.
Lazuli's stomach did a somersault in fear. If Nessa couldn't save her own son from the elven plague, then how could she be expected to save Jarlaxle?
Terrell Dathane carefully digested the news. Lazuli Entreri had not returned to the city, gone as she was on some extended mission. Her father, the legendary Artemis Entreri, had stayed behind with Jarlaxle, who was apparently not in the best of health. It seemed a perfect opportunity for the leader of the Night Eyes Guild to eliminate the possible threat to their supremacy.
Still, Terrell was not a rash or hasty leader. The two Entreris were both powerful, despite their respective ages, and their drow companion was not to be counted lightly, sick or well. A week had passed since Lazuli had left and there was no word that she might be returning any time soon. That would give the guild's soldiers confidence that the female Entreri would not interrupt a possible assassination. If they could somehow kill the remaining pair, a trap could be set for Lazuli if or when she returned.
But would that bring any real gain to the guild? Of course the heads of Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri would bring untold respect to the fledgling guild and probably even raise them a few ranks in the city's hierarchy, but what was the point of it all? Terrell Dathane, a hit-man of almost thirty years, carefully weighed the pros and cons of his situation. What if their attempt failed? What vengeful retribution might befall them if even one of the powerful trio survived?
The latter prospect was more than a little unnerving.
Terrell gave the order to keep close eyes on the remaining two. If the chance to get one of them alone presented itself, it could be taken if possible. Terrell Dathane prayed for luck to be with them.
Zandrath rode his lizard mount in silence. Behind him stretched the Baenre army, three hundred fifty hundred well trained foot soldiers, fifty lizard riders, and seventy battle ready clerics, all marching in silence. Dagasta came up beside Zandrath on his own lizard.
'Are you excited,' the patron asked in the hand code of the dark elves.
'Excited is the wrong word,' Zandrath returned glumly.
'Anxious then,' Dagasta corrected.
'Anxious, stressed, confused,' Zandrath admitted, 'need I go on?'
'It's because you've never seen the surface before,' Dagasta explained.
'Have you ever been there,' the younger drow asked.
'Once,' the Baenre patron replied, 'I have a brother and a sister living up there.'
'Why are they up there,' Zandrath asked eagerly.
'Because they hate the ways of our people,' Dagasta explained, 'I would join them, but my part in our family's plan is not yet over. Once my mission has been completed, I will leave the Underdark and join them.'
'Will you take me with you?'
It seemed more a plea than a question to Dagasta. It made his heart sore.
'If it were my choice, I would have taken you and your brother to the surface as soon as we were able to,' the old patron lamented, 'my sister would have welcomed us in a heartbeat, but my mission was not yet complete.'
'What is your mission,' Zandrath dare to ask.
' I wish I could tell you,' was all Dagasta could say.
Zandrath left the conversation at that and returned to his thoughts. So he wasn't alone in his temperament. So there were other drow like him and his father out there. And best of all, he had a real family somewhere on the surface. A great weight was lifted from his shoulders.
Zandrath even dared to hope that he might meet this lost family someday.
"I know why you're here," the somber drow female stated when Lazuli entered the chamber. The dark elf was sitting in a large armchair, her yellow eyes staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace before her. She seemed tired and sad as she sat heavily in her seat. "I know that you came hoping I could save your friend Jarlaxle," she continued, "and I know that you are crestfallen in the revelation that I could not save my own son from this plague." Lazuli was surprised at how much this strange drow knew.
"Jarlaxle said he knew you from Menzoberranzan," she ventured.
"One of the few pleasant memories I have of the place," Nessa replied, " you'll forgive me, I hope, if I sound cynical in any way."
"No harm done," Lazuli assured, "I hope I don't come across as impatient."
"If you do, I know it's merely out of concern and I'll take no offense," Nessa returned, "sit if you like." The drow pointed to a chair on the other side of the fireplace. Lazuli sat down.
"I know this must hurt, but I have to ask," she began, "is there anything you can do for Jarlaxle?"
"There may be," Nessa admitted, "with Monty I wasn't sure what it was until it was too late. Now that I know the nature of the disease, I think I can slow it down." Lazuli brightened.
"Then will you come with me back to Calimport," she asked hopefully.
"How long has Jarlaxle been infected," Nessa asked, changing the subject.
"I don't know," Lazuli admitted, "he started showing symptoms about three weeks ago."
"His time is running out then," Nessa sighed, "we should leave as soon as possible."
"You mean you'll come," Lazuli asked eagerly.
"We've stayed here for too long," Nessa said slowly, "dark elves are not a race that does well as a fixed family. Especially ones like us. I will assemble my family. We will accompany you back to Calimport and seek the cure to this plague." Nessa stood slowly as she spoke. "If you would excuse me, Lazuli, I have matters to attend to."
As she left Nessa's chamber it occurred to Lazuli that she had not told Nessa her name.
"These mounts I am giving you will carry you to Calimport," Shiroinohi instructed the two Gold elves, "from there, seek a family of drow whom you will meet there. Tell my name to the one who calls herself 'Nessa' and then you two must lead them here. By then I will have gathered the last of your destined party and the plague can be stopped."
"How will we know this family when we meet them," Zerial asked. Shiroinohi, floating silently ahead of them down the corridor, smiled.
"The youngest of the family will know you," the white queen assured, " however, be careful what you say to him, for though he is a kind soul he is suffering a terrible loss and he will be quick to lash out in sadness."
"So we go to Calimport, find this drow family, and bring them here," Tanarial summarized.
"Correct," the drandil queen confirmed, "the drow family and three others who will be with them."
"How will we get there," Zerial asked.
The white queen led them into a stable. The twins gasped in surprise. Instead of regular horses or even the winter wolves that were so common among the dragon elves, there were pegasi resting in the stalls. Huge, majestic creatures with coats the color of charcoal and eyes like pearls. Several stomped and whinnied when the trio entered.
"Each of these mounts can carry up to three passengers," Shiroinohi notified, patting a particularly large stallion as she passed him, "I'm sending five with you. That way any unexpected passengers can accompany you." The twins wondered what the white queen knew that they didn't.
Deudermont gave out the orders with fervor and the crew bustled to obey them. The old captain studied the map he had been given. The map depicted the southern half of the Sword Coast in perfect detail, leaving no settlement left unnamed and every island labeled.
But, what really made the map unique to Deudermont's eyes was the port city several miles north of Memnon. He'd never heard of the city, but the southern captain who had given him the map had said that if he was looking for a stolen ship that city would be the place to start looking.
"Awaiting your course Captain," one of the deck hands notified briskly.
"Set the course for south southeast," Deudermont ordered, "skim the coast and watch for this city." The old captain pointed to the map.
"Out Haven, sir," the crewman asked.
"Out Haven," Deudermont confirmed.
To be continued...
To all the faithful and loyal readers of this sorry piece of fanfiction: the next update may be a while in getting posted. The reason for this is that I am going to start looking for a summer job and wont have a whole lot of free time. Plus the computer I've been using belongs to my parents and I can only use it when they're not home or I'm doing school work. My plan of action to combat this is I will find myself a job, save up the money, and buy my own computer. Plan is pathetic, I know, but it's the best one I have and it beats collecting pop can money at the bottle returns (money I have to split with my brother). So yeah. Please have patience with my incompetence and flame if you can't.
Semdai Bloodquill