Don't go to Sleep
by Iliana Maura
Note: Holy flying hellions! This is so confusing! My chapter numbers no longer resemble those of the original, and neither the "edited" nor the "original" match the stepsheet. stares around in confusion Help!
Chapter Eleven : Jalbol
Weapon Master Du'vess stifled a groan as he regained consciousness. There was a deep gash along his upper arm, a hole punched straight through the side of his cheek, and a shallow grove along his side. The most painful of his injuries was the back of his head, which had slammed against the stone when he fell. One of the attackers had stabbed at his face, and the combination of surprise and pain had caused him to lose his balance. His opponent had promptly tried to follow up, but all he was able to do was knock Du'vess to the ground before another warrior had taken the Weapon Master's place.
They probably thought I was dead, he thought, struggling to sit up. A wave of pain and nausea overwhelmed him, and he fell back, propped up on one elbow. His vision went black, shot with red and purple stars.
I don't blame them, he added mentally. I feel dead.
After he had recovered a little, Du'vess looked around, though he did not try to sit up again. He had not been out too long, because there were still a few wisps of heat in the bodies of his dead soldiers. With a little thrill of satisfaction, he saw that the number of dead enemies was almost equal to that of his own dead, an amazing feat.
Not that that helps me much he reminded himself. In fact, it didn't seem like much would help him. The chances that he would be able to make his way back to House Nuvin were incredibly small, and even if he did, Matron Yraeth would kill for failing. Things looked very hopeless.
First things first, Du'vess told himself, pushing away the grim realities. I've got to get up before I can do anything-
It was just the slightest sound, the smallest sound that told Du'vess's keen ears that someone was approaching. As quickly as he dared, he dropped himself back to the street and flipped his shielding piwafwi over himself, hoping it would dim hit his heat signature and cause him to appear as cool as his dead companions.
From under a fold of the cloak, Du'vess watches as group of five drow approached cautiously. They seemed confident that there was no one about, and very interested in the remains of the battle. They did not step among the cluster of bodies, but stood outside it, discussing something in the intricate drow handcode. The Weapon Master could make out only occasional snatches of what they were saying, but it seemed as though they investigating the scene. Had someone sent them to gain more information about the two forces that had fought? Du'vess wished he could see more.
One of the drow, a surprisingly tall one, turned away from the group and surveyed the battlefield. For a moment, Du'vess's heart pounded as the other met his eyes. He thought for sure he had been seen, but the drow continued his scan. Du'vess allowed himself a small breath.
Apparently satisfied, the tall drow turned back to his companions and said something with his hands. One of the others nodded, and they spoke a little more, but they had turned so Du'vess saw none of it. Then, as though they had reached a decision, they turned and began picking their way through the corpses.
Du'vess shut his eyes so the others wouldn't see their tell-tale glow, instead gauging their progress by the sound of their soft footfalls. To his horror, they gathered around him and stopped. He was sure they hadn't realized he was alive, but he felt so helpless, lying on the ground with his eyes closed.
Suddenly, he felt the cold edge of a blade slip under his cloak and press against the skin of his neck
"We know you're not dead," one of the drow said.
Du'vess held very still, hoping they would think he had lost consciousness.
"An we know you're not unconscious," the drow added dryly.
It was no use. Du'vess opened his eyes. The tall drow stood beside his head, but the one holding the sword was a different drow. His eyes glowed a very dark red, a sharp contrast with the others' bright ruby.
"Who are you?" asked another drow, coming to stand beside the dark-eyed one. He had several cowlicks which caused his hair to twist and curl unusually.
"Weapon Master Du'vess Nuvin, of House Nu'asav-kor, eleventh house of Menzoberranzan." Du'vess drew strength from his claim. He was from a powerful house; these strange drow would not dare to kill him.
Unless they are with your mysterious attackers, he reminded himself.
The dark-eyed drow exchanged glances with his cowlicked companion. What that look meant, Du'vess could not tell.
"I am Coss'tul, of Bregan D'earthe," the dark-eyed one told Du'vess. "We would like some questions answered."
Catti-brie brought her sword, which she had claimed in Menzoberranzan, up in a fast parry that was so powerful it knocked the other woman back. Geo recovered quickly, and come on again. Again, Catti-brie parried, and before the bounty hunter could launch another attack, she came on with one of her own, nicking Geo's hand and forcing her to drop her sword. The woman jumped back, smile gone.
It returned quickly, though, as soon as she caught sight of Drizzt. Quickly, she scooped up her blade and started forward. Catti-brie tried to disarm her again, but the other woman, simply parried the attack and stepped past her to launch a blow at Drizzt.
The drow parried her attack with Twinkle, then went into a blur of motion, snapping his scimitars at impossible angles, forcing Geo to react in impossible ways, bending her limbs at queer angles to either parry or dodge each attack. Changing tactics suddenly, Drizzt focused on her blade, striking it with blow after blow, meaning to numb her hand and force her to drop the sword. He had barely hit half a dozen times when all the muscles in his arms and hands seized up, sending an incredible wave of agony through him. His scimitars fell to the ground and he fell back.
Geo did not question her good fortune, coming on hard. This time it was Bruenor that intercepted her. Coming in from the side, she didn't even notice the short dwarf until he cut her legs out from underneath her with the backside of his axe. She fell hard on the ground, and before she could attempt to get back to her feet, Catti-brie was standing in front of her, blade at her neck.
"Drop the sword," she said grimly.
Geo flung aside her blade and cursed. "Damn you! Do you know how much he'd bring me?" She pointed at Drizzt. "A thousand gold and ear!"
Bruenor growled dangerously and shifted his axe, but Geo did not seem to get the point. "Good things Match Torren doesn't pay for dwarf ears," she snapped at him. "I wouldn't make any money 'cause they'd be to ugly to go after."
Ignoring the bounty hunter, Catti-brie glanced back at Drizzt. He was leaning against the side of the Inn, confused. The pain had passed as quickly as it had come, leaving only a quiet ache behind. The drow rubbed his arms. Hadn't Jarlaxle said one of the symptoms of orbb's elghinn was cramps?
"Well?" Geo demanded after only a second of silence. "What do you want?"
Not very patient, Drizzt observed dryly.
Equally impatient, Bruenor stomped right up to the woman's face. "Did yerself kill th' elf Arvylyn Quenvath?"
To the Companions' surprise, the bounty hunter started laughing. "Didn't you see the body?"
She looked around at them. "I guess not. Well, he had both his ears, though that's only 'cause they wouldn't let me cut 'em off the body. No sense in wasting money."
Drizzt grimaced in distaste and saw Catti-brie do the same.
"What about Arzeld Zouch and Machester Sossun?" Regis asked.
"What about them?" Geo seemed to remember suddenly. "Oh, yeah. Them. They lost a bet with the elf, but they'd never kill him for it, if that's what you think. Cowards both."
"Is there anyone else who might have killed Arvylyn?" Drizzt pressed.
Geo appeared to think for a moment, not seeming at all trouble with sitting on the ground with a sword at her throat. "You might see about that guy-Dorian Tavares."
"No one's seen him," Catti-brie told her.
"Oh, really?" The bounty hunter looked surprised. "You might look for his friend, then. He's a blonde-haired guy, but the name of Ubagne or something strange like that."
Drizzt nodded and picked up his scimitars, relieved that his arms did not cramp again. "Thank you for you help."
"Are you sure I can't have your ears?" Geo pleaded to Drizzt, getting to her feet as Catti-brie pulled the sword away. "Match Torren's all the way in Waterdeep, he'll never know didn't actually kill you."
Drizzt shook his head firmly. "No."