Chapter Twelve
The sounds of footsteps and whispering had stopped quite some while back, or, more accurately, they had faded away as the drow party passed through and went on, pursuing two surfacers that were no longer before them. Torri still thought they had been as lucky as possible to have eluded the drow's senses – after all, they were the natives of the Underdark, and she doubted she and Nirra had done such a good job at hiding. However, she was happy to be alive, and those thoughts were useless now.
She waited for a while more, to make sure no scout had been left behind, or that the patrol wouldn't return. She was just wondering whether she had waited enough, when a fearful cry gave her a huge startle, for she had recognized it as Nirra's, and it had been coming from the very hideout she'd placed the gold elf in. Naturally, Torri would have never forgiven herself if anything happened to her friend because of her.
The moon elf sprung to her feet in an instant, and darted across the corridor. Even as she did so, she noticed the dark, but otherwise indistinguishable, figure looming near Nirra's hideout, and reflex got the best of her as she dove in, both her swords drawn and in hand. She pressed their pommels against the figure's shoulders as she tumbled it to the ground face first, and sat on its back, straddling what now appeared to be a drow male. Swiftly, she turned her right-hand sword around, bringing its blade to edge down down on the nape of his neck and pressing brutally, but not hard enough to slice through yet, even as the drow was instinctively attempting to turn his head and see his aggressor. The newest skilled move of the moon elven fightress pinned him completely.
"Give me ONE reason not to kill you!" Torri snarled, furiously, using the common tongue of the Realms, her eyes as filled with hateful anger as her voice, though chance had it no one could see that.
"Torri, no!" Nirra pleaded with her, also speaking common, for the drow to understand. She stood and came out from behind the rock. "I was just scared when I cried out, but he hasn't hurt me."
"He was going to," Torri stubbornly held her ground, pressing the drow male even closer into the rough natural stone floor. She had expected him to try and escape, but apparently he was wiser than that, for she would have broken his neck like a twig at the smallest attempt. She could feel his tensed readiness against her own body; should she have given him the chance, he wouldn't have hesitated to turn on her, and something told Torri she should fear that eventuality. But, that was all the resistance he was willing to offer just now. "Where are the others?" she didn't give him time to defend himself, nor did she wonder whether he even really spoke common at all.
"They've gone," he finally spoke, upon exhaling a deep breath as well as he could, given his current state. His accent was awkward, his tone held something of the harshness of his native tongue, but he was clear enough and easy to understand. "They had your mage."
Nirra took another tentative step and closed in on them as soon as she heard the mention. "He's alive?" she asked, more than just hopeful and eager to know.
"Yes," the drow confirmed. "He is a prisoner, and I can help you free him. If only your companion would..."
"No!" Torri interrupted his unfinished question through gritted teeth, pure outrage easily readable in her answer. "I wouldn't trust you two paces from here, drow." ... Why wasn't there fear in his voice? She wanted him to show that he feared her, feared for his life.
"Torri," Nirra interfered yet again, coming to sit on her haunches right at their side and eyeing the drow. "Why would you help us?" she demanded firmly, though compassion was still hidden somewhere behind that inflexion.
"I am an outcast from my people," he explained briefly.
He shifted below Torri, gaining a bit of comfort, and the moon elf bit her tongue, scolding herself for allowing that to happen. She was supposed to be the one IN CONTROL. For a moment, she hesitated, almost driven by the urge to just finish him on the spot, and then maybe cut him to little pieces and feed him to the... no. She wasn't the drow here, he was.
"I am one of Eilistraee's followers," the drow added, seeing as to how no one was saying anything more.
That only caused Torri to flinch. She knew that Eilistraee was more of a drow Goddess than one of the Seldarine, but she was closely associated with the moon of her people, and her hatred for the entire drow race immediately, though illogically, denied this male the right to worship that divinity. "Why should we believe you?" she snapped, even more aversion filling her voice.
The drow sighed, which perplexed her. She looked to Nirra for support, although she should have known she wouldn't get any, and that was her mistake. Her grip weakened, for only a split second, but it was enough for the male to swiftly but unceremoniously sweep her off him, with one of the arms she had been negligent enough to let free. Rolling over, he was on his feet way before she had even realized what had happened, and she found herself sitting awkwardly on the ground and blinking. The entire scene had caused Nirra to warily dart back to her feet, but the gold elf had relaxed afterwards.
Torri braced herself for an incoming attack, but none such thing happened and she eventually had to look up. All she found was a friendly hand held out to her, offering help with pulling herself up. Ignoring the offer, she muttered darkly, in another language that neither Nirra nor the drow understood, or minded for that matter, then pulled herself together and stood to her feet.
"You're welcome," the drow taunted her, letting his hand fall back at his side.
She just glared in his general direction and rolled her eyes in silence. No one failed to notice the swords that were still in her hands, and how ready – willing, even – she was to use them. She had to swallow tightly, her only wish being that to attack him and fight to the death; she wanted to strangle him, or plunge the sword through his stomach, or just grab him and smash him into the wall repeatedly, until nothing remained of his head but a battered pulp. Not even she knew exactly where so much hate had a place in her heart.
He seemed to sense her intentions, for he turned to face her squarely, ready to defend. "Calm yourself, surfacer," he hissed, exasperatedly. "You no longer hold the surprise element, and I am more than a match for you."
Torri gritted her teeth, her fingers pressing so tightly into the sword-hilts as they clutched, that it would look like she expected them to become one with the weapon. However, she refrained from attacking, clung to the last remaining bit of rational logic she had left; she knew he had spoken the truth, and though she was no coward, she wasn't a fool either.
"What do you want from us?" she asked, making use of that colder-than-ice calm she possessed when something was terribly trying her patience. Nirra moved swiftly and came to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. The touch seemed to have some sort of magic effect on her, causing her muscles to gradually relax, one by one, until the swords came to hang limply at her sides, as extensions to her very arms.
"I saw everything," the drow replied, doing his best to remain respectful, though it was obvious that he shared Torri's antipathy completely."I believe I could help you save your brave mage friend, AND find a way out."
Torri snorted, disbelievingly, but Nirra's hold of her grew firmer and she let go of the acid retort she had prepared. "I thank you," the gold elf spoke instead, coldly, though as polite as an expert diplomat would have been. "Though I do NOT trust you."
"Fair enough," he nodded, a barely perceptible move in the blackness that was the Underdark. "Actions prove people's intent better than words."
"Sure they do," Torri snickered, not wanting to miss the opportunity to exert her revenge any way she could, and by any means. "And since you are drow, what exactly would you require in return for this little 'favor' you're doing us?"
"I will not ask for much," he replied testily. "Only that you allow me to tag along, until you reach the surface. I wish to look upon my Goddess' moon."
"It's not much, indeed," Nirra agreed. "Very well. I suppose we don't have much choice if we are to save Knave, anyway." The last phrase had been directed at her moon elven friend, rather than at the drow.
"You'll stab us in the back on our way to 'rescuing' Knave, but sure, why not?" Torri smiled defiantly. ... That oddly reminded her of... someone. She stammered, blinking, and wondering whether it was a racial trait and she hadn't been able to tell so far. Whatever.
"There is no way to see how something will turn out unless you make the attempt," the drow replied evenly. "Moreover, tarrying over issues of distrust won't get us anywhere right now."
"It'll get ME somewhere," Torri muttered, but then just shrugged and snapped her swords back into their sheaths, though her hand continued to rest on the hilts.
"He's right," Nirra patted her shoulder, before detaching from her side and stepping into the corridor. She had decided to show the drow that she wasn't afraid, and she did so by posting herself right in front of him. "My name is Nehera," she said calmly, "and she is Toreen."
"I am Solaufein," the drow nodded politely, although he was obviously intelligent enough not to delude himself that names would do anything in the direction of the trust issues.
"Drow," Torri shrugged, drifting past him and Nirra, all too casual and relaxed for it to be authentic. That spoke enough from her part, totally giving out her intention to ignore the news that he had a name. When he rolled his eyes, she had expected it so much that she felt him doing so, and just laughed mockingly. "Lead the way, then," she bid, not without slipping a new trace of aversion and doubt behind her sweetly poisonous tone.
Solaufein sighed, and decided to ignore her, as he addressed Nirra. "They took the mage to a camp nearby. The place is well guarded, but we'd best move before they've had time to torture or mutilate him. ... If they haven't already."
Nirra shuddered, unable to do anything else but nod, to show that she had acknowledged. Torri turned back to them, abruptly. "They'd better have not," she threatened grimly. "Or they will receive ten times worse. This, I promise."
"You are speaking from experience?" Solaufein flinched, curious all of a sudden.
Not deigning his worth enough for her to answer, the moon elf just shrugged again. "Will you move already?" was her only reply.
"How many guards?" Nirra stepped into the dialogue, the subtly powerful inflexions of her voice silencing their little argument once more.
"I'm not sure," the drow pondered. "I will do some scouting once we've reached the place, and find out for you."
"Or you'll just do us a favor and betray our presence to them, right?" Torri was quick to add. "Just move."
He sighed heavily, exchanging an indefinite look with Nirra. Obviously, the only thing that kept him from giving a recklessly rude reply was the hope that maybe the moon elf was only overcautious, not prejudicial, and she would change her opinion. Also, something about the gold elf's posture seemed to calm him, and he did no more than turn around, and gesture for them to follow as he set off back in the direction they had come from. "Some of the guards will still be gone, searching for you, though the handmaiden will still be there," he explained. "This is the only chance to actually succeed."
The two females just followed, both adamant in their decision to try this. Actually... Torri wasn't so exalted about the whole of it, but she knew that Nirra would never leave before they had at least made an attempt.
Author's Note: I think it's pretty logical that I will be ignoring the Solaufein game mod and what it adds to the BG2 storyline. However, it's a fair warning for me to give: I will also be ignoring ANY other unofficial mods out there. They're fun to play, some were actually brilliant, but the accepted version of the story is the simple one, whether we like it or not.