Revelation

There was the thump of their feet meeting stone, but no accompanying light, and for a few terrified seconds, Trey thought that the crazy old wizard had blinded them. Then his vision cleared, and all he could do was blink blearily in shock, like a hermit forced into the unforgiving sunlight. His immediate surroundings couldn't have shocked him more than if he was truly blind.

They had been teleported to a temple of some sort, though it resembled no place of worship they had ever entered on the surface. There were no fountains, no kindly old men seeking alms or silent pilgrims attending mass. Instead, they were greeted by a sculpture of a large, hideous spider-being, which hung ominously over an ornate altar of obsidian. The idol, carved from onyx, had the body of a woman from the waist up, and eight wicked looking legs attached to a large abdomen from the waist below. Splattered across the idol's chest were faint, but unmistakable splashes of dried blood. Similar, smaller idols decorated the walls of the temple, painstakingly carved out of some glittering mineral, and each seemed to have a cruel glint in their eye. Drow runes ran the length of the Temple's walls below them, which Trey did not understand, though its implications undoubtedly leaned towards a foul nature. Despite its gruesome appearance, the Temple lacked the malicious aura that such places of worship seemed to collect, and Trey understood that the Temple had been purified of whatever influence had created it. He quickly forgot to gape at the temple once he noticed the twenty drow spearpoints pointed in their direction.

"We're under attack!"

"Protect the Seer!"

"Look out!"

In their peripheral vision, there were the telltale signs of rapid movement— assassins stepping from their shadows, perhaps, or drow bowstrings tightening. Alain's hand inched towards his pocket full of shurikens, and if he was not stopped when he was, then their entire story would have changed. But he was, and here we are.

"Lay down your weapons, do you not recognize one of our own?" said a calm, female voice, slicing through the tension like butter. And, surprisingly, the drow soldiers obeyed. The spears were raised, and the warriors moved back ever so slightly, though Alain noticed they were staring at them as if they were expected to explode.

Nathyrra took no notice of the warriors' hostility, however, she stepped between two anxious warriors and bowed low to another female in a flowing dress of silver and grey, quite unlike anything he had seen the drow wear. "It's good to be back, Mother Seer."

So this is the Seer. Trey thought, studying the female from between the gaps of spear points. She looked the same as every other Drow female he had encountered, and yet different in some vital and decisive way. When she turned to meet his gaze, it came to him in a flash: she was the first Drow to look at him with an absence of any sort of fear, suspicion, or open hostility towards him. Her eyes almost seemed to bore into him, piercing his eyes like they were no more than glass, and viewing the mind behind them. He concentrated, feeling a mental click in his mind, and her aura blinked into focus. The Seer's aura was a shifting membrane of white and blue, utterly beautiful. Trey had never seen anything like it before, and he wondered if Alain had noticed it yet.

It's not normal… he thought, and for a second grew afraid, as if the Seer could hear his very thoughts. She's a goddess…or touched by one. The Seer smiled serenely at him, like a dear friend, and suddenly, the idea of her hearing his thoughts didn't seem so absurd.

"It is good that you have returned, Nathyrra. And I see that you have brought guests with you." The Seer said, her eyes twinkling. She approached them, seeming to glide over the ground rather than walk, and bowed low. "Welcome rivvils. I am the Seer. I have been waiting for this moment for some time."

Questions whirled around Alain's head, along with the various other unfounded suspicions of this "Seer". The stupidest question of all bumped its way to his tongue quicker than the others, leaving him wishing he had just said nothing at all, "Did you just call us rivvils?"

"It is no insult, merely the Drow word for your race. I shall refer to you as Alain, if you prefer." The Seer said. This answer allowed him to segue quite easily led to his next question:

"How do you know my name?" Alain demanded, though he already guessed the answer. Seer meant prophet, and this Seer must have foreseen them in a vision. Kind of like Daschnaya, he thought. Only the old hin liked a lot more flash with her divinations, tarot cards and all.

"All of your questions shall be answered in due time," the Seer said, steering the conversation away from herself. "But first there are things you must know about the Valsharess, if you are to stop her plot."

"Hold on a second-" Alain began to say, before Nathyrra neatly cut him off in mid-sentence, with the ease she must have had cutting off an opponent's limb.

"Please, allow me, Seer." Nathyrra interjected, facing Alain and Trey. "The Drow society is divided into Houses, each ruled over by one Matron Mother. Nearly all Drow worship the Dread Spider queen Lloth, who, in turn for their worship, reward the Houses with power— political, divine and otherwise. However, Lloth is as fickle as she is cruel, and no House is allowed too much power for too long. It's quite common for a powerful Matron to be overthrown by a lesser House, with the help of an ambitious daughter. Lloth was a fan of irony."

Structured chaos, Trey thought. The Drow, reduced to playthings for a goddess. How long does a society go along with such madness until it becomes commonplace? Alain's mind was elsewhere, and he interrupted quickly, "What happened to Lloth?"

Nathyrra gave him a withering look, not used to being interrupted and liking it even less. Alain weathered it though, and she replied with a distinct measure of annoyance. "That's what I was getting to. The Drow society was thrown into disorder with Lloth's disappearance. And no," she said, giving Alain a piercing look, as if to stop his next question, "no one knows the reason why. A power vacuum ensued, and though the Valsharess was nothing more than a matron mother before Lloth's disappearance, she quickly took control."

"How was that possible?" Trey asked. "Surely she had no more troops than anyone else, under Lloth's rule."

"That is true," said the Seer. "However, the Valsharess had summoned a Duke of the Nine Hells, an archdevil which she bent to her will...somehow." Her face grew troubled briefly, and it was obvious that the specifics of this particular feat were still a matter of discussion. "Through his power, she was able to wrench control of the Underdark. Those who opposed her were crushed and enslaved."

"Is it possible," Alain said, butting in again, "that Lloth's disappearance is linked to this devil's appearance?" He was thinking of the giant spider creature he and Trey had seen in the Undermountain, in the space between planes. Maybe that was Lloth in all her glory. Banished…but not dead.

"I suppose…" Nathyrra said doubtfully, thinking to herself, "though it's unlikely." She shook her head then, as if dismissing that train of thought. "Anyhow, the Valsharess grew in power steadily, and she turned her ambitions towards the surface."

"And she tried to get there through Undermountain?" Trey asked.

"Exactly."

"What do we have to do with this?" Alain cried in frustration. Trey gave him a disapproving look, and Alain knew why. The Way of the Open Palm dictated that they had taken up Nathyrra's cause when they had helped her free Halaster. As a result, they were bound to help her. Still…why did it seem like they were being forced down this path without any choice in the matter? Each reason Nathyrra gave for their involvement seemed like another chain binding them down, another shove into a dark tunnel by invisible hands.

"It involves you, because she wants you dead," the Seer said flatly, and Alain had to try hard to resist rolling his eyes. Just one more link in the chain.

"The archdevil told the Valsharess that there was one person who could stop her. An augury was performed, and she was shown an image of you." She continued, looking directly at Alain..

"My dream…" Trey said, putting a hand to his head absently. It was still clear in his mind… the various rituals performed by the wizards… the blinding light, and the expectation of seeing himself surprisingly denied. It was Alain that had stood before the Valsharess… his only student.

"Yes," the Seer sighed. "I had the same dream. You, Alain, appear to be singled out to face the Valsharess."

"Me!" Alain cried in shock.

"Him?" said a nearby tiefling in unison, his tail twitching agitatedly. "Seer, you cannot be serious!"

"Valen, Eilistraee's visions have never been wrong," the Seer admonished quietly, "Was she not right in predicting your coming?"

Valen, the tiefling in question, fell quiet, though his icy blue eyes remained on Alain. Trey did not remember him being in the room before. The tiefling had pale skin and fiery red hair, and was dressed in emerald armor. His aura was even stranger looking than the Seer's, it was a rainbow of color, a nimbus of ever-shifting light, of conflicting desires. It's because he's only half demon. The human side of him keeps his baser impulses barely in check. We have some interesting allies… He turned his attention back to the Seer.

"What would you have us do?"

"All that there is to do…" the Seer said slowly, seeming to be for the first time unsure of how to proceed, "is to trust in my Goddess, and that means trusting in you. Our fate is in your hands."

"Stop right there," Trey said calmly, holding up a hand in protest. "Don't say things like that. If we're going to help you, then we will need all the help we can get. Don't expect us to swoop in alone and save the day as your prophecies decree, that's not our way. You still command your fate, here."

"No," the Seer said slowly, "you will not be alone. Nathyrra and Valen know much about the Underdark, and they can be of much help in your quest. Nathyrra's information has proven vital to our continued survival, and Valen's command of our allied forces has fended off the Valsharess for longer than any thought possible. If you can find a way to weaken her army, or strike the Valsharess through her allies, then your chances of victory can only improve with them at your side."

"Fine then, it's settled. For now, we could use some rest, and food if you have it. We've been fighting and running without reprieve for far too long." Trey explained.

"Of course," the Seer said with a smile, ushering them outside. There are some rooms we have prepared…" her voice trailed off out of sight and out of hearing as the double doors closed behind them.

Back inside the Temple, Valen scowled at the monks' retreating figures. Nathyrra noticed his expression, and imitated it comically, scrunching up her brow, then laughed. Valen only smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes.

"You saw them in action, Nathyrra. How did those two humans get so far with no weapons of any kind?" Valen asked, voicing the foremost worry of his mind.

"Yes, I've seen them in battle," said Nathyrra, still smiling a little, "and I remember thinking the same thing. The younger one, Alain, is very good at in a fight…he might even be a match for you, Valen.," she joked. Valen smirked and patted the heavy flail hanging at his waist. "The older one, Trey," she continued, "is not as skilled, though he's no pushover, but he's able to use these techniques, using…Ki, is what he called. You would have to see it to believe it, trust me. They fight as one unit, and I think that's how they've survived. When they move…" Nathyrra paused, summoning up a mental image of them, during their last battle, "it's always around each other, aware of the other's movements."

Valen nodded slowly, a little surprised at her response. If Nathyrra— a former Red Sister and capable in her own right— was impressed, then surely they must have some skill.

"Well then," Valen murmured to himself as he exited the Temple, "we'll just have to wait and see."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So?" Alain asked angrily, leaning back against a small stone chair, on the second floor of one of the living quarters. The Seer had taken them to a small stone building about a mile away from the Temple, and said that she would send someone to wake them in the "morning." (Alain was beginning to doubt if he would see natural light for some time.) Their rooms were small, but cozy, and dinner had been some kind of blackened mossy lichen. They had been informed by an enthusiastic servant that drow usually burned such vegetation to a crisp to kill mushroom spores and poisonous fungi that an ambitious rival may have added to liven up their meal. This practice went back generations, and as such, methods had been developed to bring out the food's flavor in spite of how it was cooked. After a first bite, they were astonished to see that it was delicious. The lichen might have looked like something a wagon rolled under, but it tasted wonderful, better than any meat they had tried.

Even stranger were their living quarters. Unlike humans, who built their homes upwards, Drow built their homes downward, using a combination of magic and slave labor to tunnel into the earth. As a result, the ground floor (what one saw on the surface) was called the first floor, the second floor (what humans might call a basement) was the second, and so on. The reason, Trey guessed, was that Drow weren't too fond of heights.

"So…what?" Trey replied offhandedly, reclining on the large, circular bed in the room. (He didn't know why all the beds were circular, maybe it reminded the Drow of the womb?) Of course, he knew what Alain meant. He was upset that Trey didn't have the decency to tell him that the Valsharess had set her sights on him. He recalled how the Drow raid leader on the first floor of the Undermountain had ordered his men to take him… but they had mistaken him for Alain. In truth, Trey had kept the information from Alain partly because he didn't want it to be true.

"So what? Why didn't you tell me that you dreamed the Valsharess plotting my death?" Alain cried hotly.

"Why worry you? You would have lost your focus if you were looking in the shadows every five minutes for one of the Valsharess' assassins."

"So the alternative was staying ignorant of a very real threat to my life?"

"Let me ask you this, Alain. Would you have changed any of the decisions you've made up to this point if I had told you straight out? Refused Durnan? Ignored Nathyrra? All for what seemed to be no more than a particularly bad dream?"

Alain leaned backward on the stone chair, balancing the back legs and silently fuming. Like every other argument he had ever begun with his teacher, this one seemed doomed before it had even began. There was no way he could refute his teacher's logic: in many ways, the progression of events would have made changing any decision almost impossible. Waterdeep had penned them in, the beholder had lured him down, and Nathyrra had given her aid. It had all been quite out of his hands.

Still, he couldn't block out the words of a small, mean voice somewhere in his head, voicing all the thoughts he would rather not think on. It said, You can't be trusted with sensitive information like that. Consider it cold comfort that they didn't ask you to leave the room before they discussed your pending murder.

He stamped the voice out ruthlessly, and it went without much fuss, if only for the moment. Trey watched, fascinated, as Alain made a visible effort to regain his composure. "Fine…" Alain sighed, deciding to let the matter drop for the moment. "What is, is. What are we going to do now?"

"Easy question," Trey countered. "We do what we always do, as we always have. You see it, don't you?"

"See what?" Alain asked, puzzled.

"How similar this situation is to any of the ones we've faced on the surface." Trey replied, indicating with a finger towards the ceiling.

Alain shook his head slowly, still confused. "I don't understand, Teacher."

"Listen," Trey instructed, pushing off the bed onto the ground. The stone floor was dusty and worn, the signs of little use, but it served his purpose. He drew a small house in the dirt with his fingers. "This is the village- whichever you want, Drow, human, elf, dwarf, whatever." He drew an arrow in the dirt a few inches to the right of the dirt, and looked at Alain. "This is the threat- again, whatever you want. Human bandits, elven thugs…Drow raiders." Finally he drew two squares in the dirt, below the house. "These squares are you and I. With our help, the villagers are able to fend off the threat. See it now?"

"You forget," Alain interrupted, "This isn't strictly Toril anymore, and our enemies won't fight using the same tactics. We're used to helping a few villagers with pitchforks and clubs, not rebel Drow warriors. We aren't respected, or even tolerated: the Seer is one thing, but I doubt we'll find people falling over themselves to let us help them. And no matter how much we've done, we've still never encountered an arch-devil before, Trey. You don't get a title like that for robbing a few pubs!"

"True Alain, we have never met an arch-devil before. Why let that stop us?"

Alain shook his head, his mind empty just when he needed a quick response. Instead, he asked another question. "What's the plan for tomorrow then?"

"I think," Trey mused aloud, "that I will stay here and look at our defenses. If we are going to fend off an army, then we had better know we can use. You, on the other hand… you're going to see if we can find any allies against the Valsharess."

"Me!" Alain cried, almost a perfect echo of the word he had said earlier. "I'm going on my own, into the Underdark, to look for allies to fight a woman who wants me dead above all others? You've got to be joking!"

"No," Trey said, sitting up and wiping the drawings in the dirt away absently, "I'm not, and neither are you. Morale is just as important as equipment. If you are the one "destiny" has chosen, then it would be good to act like it. The camp sees you now as a little human boy, barely old enough to hold a sword." Alain was hard-pressed to hold back an outburst of protests at that characterization, "You need to change that image if we are going to survive. And this is the quickest and easiest way."

"Besides, you won't be alone."

"Oh really?" Alain said, flopping back into his strangely comfortable chair. His mind was whirling: spinning not so much out of fear, but at the possibility of proving Trey wrong. If Trey truly didn't trust him, as he had thought before, then why was he being given such responsibility?

"No. Valen's going with you," Trey said, laying back down on the bed.

"Wonderful. I'm going to bed, because this must be a nightmare. Send me into the wild with the ally most likely to abandon me. Good night," Alain announced, standing and leaving the room. The door shut hard behind him; too hard. Trey forgave him. He was still trying to cope with the many surprises he had received since his entry into the Underdark, and though he wasn't having a breakdown, it was still a lot to digest. And there was still so much more he did not know!

No matter what he thinks of Valen, he'll be fine. Sure, he was worried for Alain, terrified that something might happen to him out there, but Valen had a good heart, despite his appearance. Fighting alongside the commander of the drow army was a good start. Impressing him would be difficult, but if anyone was capable of the feat, it was his student— and changing Valen's mind would go a long way towards gaining the camp's favor.

Sleep, his mind demanded, and like a unnatural spell, an utter blackness fell over his vision, his eyelids growing steadily heavy. He fell asleep, one hand over his eyes, lying on the bed, where Alain would find him the next day.