Prologue

The world of Menzoberranzan is a world of strict rules, treachery, instinct, and death. This is the world of the young male of House Baenre. Jarlaxle Baenre was a drow born into unfavorable conditions. His mother, Matron Baenre, was the strongest figure in Menzoberranzan society, but he was not the child of his family's patron male. Jarlaxle was born to Delanil Do'Urden, a minor mage in good standing with House Baenre.

As a child, Jarlaxle learned very quickly that his society, drow society, was a matriarch society and as such, he would have little room for error for fear of enraging his female superiors. Matron Baenre saw the budding strength in Jarlaxle and offered to take him into her house, as long as he was strictly obedient to her will.

By his tenth birthday, the time for a destined profession arrived at Jarlaxle's footstep. Matron Baenre saw a great mage in Jarlaxle, but was tentative to leave him without proper militaristic training. So, the decision was made to send the young Baenre to Melee-Magthere for four years, before attending the magic school of Sorcere. This is where Jarlaxle finds himself, approaching the steps of Sorcere for the first time.

Chapter 1- Sorcere

The shuffling footsteps echoing through the halls were not unexpected to the Faceless One, the archmage in charge of Sorcere. This newest apprentice of his, Jarlaxle, seemed to have a great amount of natural talent in the arts of magic. Just as the Faceless One was pondering the significance of such raw talent, a rapping on his door shook him from his thoughts.

"Sir, I have identified the meaning of the scroll you gave me. You asked that I report as soon as I was completed." Announced an overly proud Jarlaxle.

Just as Jarlaxle finished his statement, a bolt of lightning bounded across the room from his master's fingers. Jarlaxle wore a pain-filled, incredulous expression as his robes and skin burned. The room soon filled with the stench of burning flesh.

"Did I not also tell you not to interrupt me when I was in my chambers? You are lucky that I am feeling weak at the moment from last night's experiment. I would not tolerate such insolence from you under normal conditions. I would advise that you learn to give proper respect or you will pay the consequences. Now, leave me alone, I must rest before our trip tonight. I will send you a summons when Narbondel glows brightest."

"Yes, sir, I shall prepare for this night's journey. Might I ask where we are going this evening, sir?"

"You overstep your bounds again? You have much talent, but will you ever learn?" At that, an elemental appeared from the air and advanced on Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle turned, but received a glancing blow on the shoulder by the lumbering elemental's clumsy right hook. Jarlaxle ducked into a roll to avoid being struck again. The elemental chased Jarlaxle into the corridor and caught him in a numbing grasp. The wind was blown from Jarlaxle's lungs and he slowly faded into unconsciousness. When the Faceless One saw his apprentice's body go limp, he banished the elemental. Jarlaxle was left in the hallway as the Faceless One closed the door to his work chambers. "Why must one of such talent be so thickheaded? No matter, I will bend him to my will, or he will not leave this building alive."

Shuffling footsteps could be heard, bounding off of the stone corridor. Jarlaxle half opened weary eyes, trying to regain his senses. As he was regaining his senses, a heavy boot connected on the side of Jarlaxle's head.

"I said be ready when Narbondel glows brightest. Why do you continue to be so thick headed? Next time you disobey me, you will not wake up from that sleep, I assure you." The Faceless One announced nonchalantly.

"I am sorry master. I will be ready to go in--."

"You will come with me now! The night is already upon us and we must leave the city before any sentries take note of our presence." The Faceless One returned rather quickly. The Faceless One turned and headed down the hallway towards the entrance of Sorcere.

Jarlaxle dragged himself to his feet and sprinted to catch up with his master. He came upon the archmage along the shadows of a mushroom grove, peering around a corner to get a better view of the guards. Just as quickly as Jarlaxle spotted the patrolman, the guard fell to his knees, a small dart lodged in his throat.

The two drow, archmage and magus, left the city a short while later, headed for the confines of the deadly Underdark.