Chapter 2-Unexpected Meeting
It had been almost two hours of marching and Jarlaxle was still unsure of his master's reason for leaving Menzoberranzan so abruptly. He had grown up as a noble of the strongest house in the drow city, he was trained in the art of sorcery, Jarlaxle was not used to walking so much. He felt a burning in his legs every time he took a step further into the Underdark.
"Master, in fear of disappointing you, I must be so bold to say that I may not be able to walk much farther." Proclaimed an obviously exhausted Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle still carried a bad limp from the previous night's events. His footsteps were filled with anguish as salty sweat rolled down his chest and ran through his burned skin.
Do not make any noise! The Faceless One responded emphatically in the complex drow hand code. His facial expression told Jarlaxle without any chance of misinterpretation that this command had to be followed. The Faceless One then pointed to the North and showed Jarlaxle an altar to Lloth in the middle of a large cavern.
Do we go to that altar master? Jarlaxle motioned doubtfully.
Just wait. Patience is a virtue that cannot be underestimated, especially to one of our calling. Signaled the archmage calmly. As he finished his message, two drow entered the cavern from either side. The two drow halted a short distance from one another. The altar began to glow with a faint black light.
"We shall see who it is that Lloth really favors today on this field of battle." Shouted one drow across the chamber to his counterpart.
"Yes, we shall. You will die by my blade and all glory will fall on house DeVir." The other drow returned in a confident tone. "House Do'Urden will fall today once my matron receives the full glory of Lloth. You will be the first to fall and Zaknafein Do'Urden, you will be able to greet your family at the gates of the abyss soon enough! Today I, Tyrethe DeVir, will bring glory to my house."
At that, the two warriors charged towards the altar. Zaknafein wielded his two adamantine swords with a natural ease, almost as if they were an extension of his arms themselves. His opponent brandished a short sword and a dirk. The combatants met at the altar in a rush. Zak lunged forward in a feinting attack. Tyrethe saw the feint for what it was and crossed his blades in a defensive position. As he did so, Zak drew back his swords and lunged low with both swords. Tyrethe waited to block until the last second, Zak's swords a mere inch away from his stomach.
Tyrethe rolled jumped onto the altar to get a better vantage point. When he looked at where Zaknafein was just a moment before, he saw nothing. Looking around, Tyrethe saw his opponent slowly levitating to his position. Tyrethe waited in anticipation of Zak's approach when he was suddenly enveloped in an orb of impenetrable darkness. Zak appeared in a frenzy from behind Tyrethe and two slender blades entered the unsuspecting drow's chest. As the drow slid off of the swords, Zaknafein lifted the orb of darkness and watched the light fade from Tyrethe's eyes. What was that look in Zak's eyes, pity, sympathy? Thought a stunned Tyrethe.
As Zak bent to wipe his swords clean on his victim's piwafwi, he was suddenly faced by two unknown drow. One of the drow looked to be a man of high standing in his rich, black silk robes. The other appeared as if he had just been to the abyss. His hair was standing on end as if it was unwilling to conform to the contours of his head. His clothes were matted with blood and he walked with a noticeable limp.
"What do you want? I fought this man in a fair challenge, in the name of Lloth. I am innocent in the eyes of the council." Zaknafein shouted with a desperate look in his eye.
"Do not fear, warrior. We mean not to harm you, but simply to witness who will gain the respect of Lloth. You have shown yourself to be quite capable with the sword and would be a waste to kill you for sport." Replied the Faceless One with a smirk on his face.
How many others have heard that same thing before being killed? Thought a nervous Zak. "You are at an unfair advantage sir, for you know of me, but I am unaware of your identity." Zak responded with a slight quiver in his voice.
"That is not a matter for a mere warrior, Zaknafein Do'Urden. You wouldn't want to cause trouble for your house, would you? I have been asked by Matron Baenre herself to create a raiding party. An agent of mine informed me of your coming and I felt inclined to meet the victor. So what say you? Are you interested in punishing our evil surface brethren? Will you help us spill elven blood, or must I find someone else? That would mean ending your sorry existence first, of course."
"It seems that I have no choice in the matter. Might you and your associate introduce yourselves now? I, as you have stated, am Zaknafein Do'Urden."
"I am the archmage of Sorcere, but you will address me as the Faceless One. My companion here is my pupil, Jarlaxle Baenre. We will gather a total of ten members for this trip. Be ready to act when I summon you." As he said so, the Faceless One gave Jarlaxle a grim look to make sure he was talking to him as well.