The room in Crossroad Keep's basement was deserted. The only evidence of the foul ritual performed here by Garius and his Luskan necromancers was an indelible rune circle painted on the uneven stone block floor. Although Lord Nasher's cloaktower mages had cleansed the room with powerful spells, traces of shadow still remained. These traces had been harnessed for use by a warlock of considerable power. Taking advantage of a weakness in the wall separating the planes here, Ammon Jerro had constructed a portal, allowing him easy access to the nine hells and beyond.
A green-leather armored figure, on its hands and knees, appeared within the maelstrom inside the portal. When the disturbance subsided, a woman stood and walked outside the circle's nauseating influence.
Elanee was in a quandary. Saving Qara's life hadn't been a question of yes or no for the druid, but it caused a problem for her entire group of adventurers. In the war with the King of Shadows, Ammon Jerro was indispensable; He had performed a part of the Ritual of Purification. Without the warlock's aid, the war was as good as lost.
Casting a sleep spell, along with reciting a powerful confuse incantation on the warlock, seemed like a good idea until the druid, with Grobnar tagging along, had found Qara near death in Ammon Jerro's room. Besides the Knight-Captain's task of keeping an eye on Ammon, Elanee now had to keep Qara from getting even, maybe even killing him.
Where is Grobnar... Elanee's thought was interrupted by the sound of the portal cycling up. The sorceress would be here soon. With no more time left to think, she started speaking an incantation, turning to face the runes.
The blank look on Qara's face told Elanee all she needed to know; Her spell had worked. "Umm.. Ammon Jerro... where are we?" the sorceress stammered, looking around the room.
Elanee's tone was soothing, filled with sympathy. "It's all right. We're safe now. This is the Crossroad Keep basement," she said as they walked out of the circle's influence. "That's a poorly constructed portal. I've never been so sickened. Let's get you to your room so you can rest." Placing an arm around her charge, they climbed the stairs to the main hall.
The troll was hunting, his hunger growing as time passed. The faint scent of blood on the breeze meant food was near. The hunter he'd recently killed and devoured had only whetted his growing appetite. The scent trail led to the base of a duskwood tree at the edge of a grove of the trees growing on the riverbank. Looking up, he spotted his next meal, a small elven boy sitting in the lower branches gazing down at him, making fearful keening sounds that only served to excite the troll's predatory instinct.
Shaking the tree did no good; The tasty treat remained stubbornly on that branch, just out of reach, throwing bits of bark and dead branches into the troll's upturned face, making him sneeze. The boy sat quietly, only moving when the beast threatened him.
Just about the time the green horror got wise and picked up a large stone to unseat his prey, he was startled by a large rock rebounding from the back of his head. The troll turned around to face whoever had been foolish enough to provoke him.
Rolan stood at the end of the sloping cart path that led to a switchback cut into the side of the hill, a large stone in each hand. The search for his wife, Lillith, brought him to this place; It looked very much like the path through the Duskwood that led past a rebuilt Ember and on to Port Llast. In his youth, Rolan had hunted deer here with friends from time to time. Seeing the green horror's effort to assault the child, he couldn't help but bean the green devil with a rock and lead it away; Maybe the boy could escape then.
The troll, seeing an easier, larger meal let out an enraged roar and took off in pursuit. Rolan ran back up the path to the first Z-shaped turn, paused to make sure he was being followed, and advanced half way up the middle leg of the switch-back. When the monster was well up the trail, Rolan picked up a large rock and descended just far enough to look down.
Before he could loose off his missile, Rolan watched with fascination as the troll chasing him began to shimmer, its skin sloughing off like melting candle wax; The green skin bubbled, then turned black, bursting into flame as the fat beneath it burned. Roaring its agony at the sky, the troll seemed to take a long time to die.
Not knowing what to expect, Rolan scanned to his left, hoping the one who wielded such destructive power, even here where the trees dampened all magic, was at least tolerant, if not friendly. He gave a start at what he saw; The elf child, a boy of no more than twenty summers, stood at the base of a tall duskwood tree, holding a wound on his neck from which blood continued to leak. He was wearing nothing but a pair of leather and linen shorts—His feet were bare.
One look at this little one's exhausted, frightened face told Rolan he had nothing to fear. When the boy crumpled to the ground and lay still, he gathered up the fallen sorcerer and carried him to an abandoned campsite a short distance away.
Hang in there Lil, he thought wearily. This won't take long. He promised his lady, as he cast about for something, anything to tend the child with.
Grobnar paused with his hand on the door latch to Ammon Jerro's room. "Do you think Kistrel is a phase spider?" his whispered question, although intriguing, didn't fit into their current situation. Ever since Elanee had returned from putting Qara to sleep in her bedroom here at the Phoenix Tail Inn, and found the gnome riding the spider around the keep's basement, all he could talk about was his new mount.
Right now, they needed to deal with a powerful and possibly dangerous warlock. Elanee fretted that Ammon was not still under her sleep spell's effect. The incantation that scrambled his thoughts should last for several days though; That eased her mind considerably.
Ammon was just like they'd left him; Head down on the table in his room—Fast asleep. "Help me move him over to the bed Grobnar," she didn't want the gnome to wander into the inter-planar trap set by the warlock to catch anyone who might have helped Qara to escape. After they laid the sleeping warlock on his bed, Elanee carefully applied another spell of sleeping; It wouldn't do to put him under so deeply that he would never wake up.
"I certainly hope the Knight-Captain appreciates what we're doing here." Grobnar gave voice to a sentiment that both he and Elanee felt. Lady Tiernah didn't exactly tell them to suppress the warlock's threat, they were merely tasked to watch him, but the druid felt that it was the safest thing to do. Now that both Ammon and Qara were sound asleep, it would be a simple chore to just watch over them.
Her world was in darkness. The steady drip of water echoing off the cold stone walls gave her no idea where she was or how large the room. She was not alone; Five others, she sensed, were scattered about the chamber. They were standing still, silently watching her. Her eyes, inherited from a drow grand-parent, glowed a dull ruby red as they adjusted to the near total darkness.
Lillith, in spite of the smell of fear and decay all around her, was delighted. She was in no danger. They're little ones... children, she thought, curiosity taking her mind from the worry of a missing husband.
Four tiny figures, their eyes also aglow, were now clustered around a taller fifth; A drow female of average height, dressed, not as a warrior, but as a traveler. On closer examination, Lil could see that the four little ones were paired; They were twins. Two girls were identical full-blooded drow, while a boy and a girl were fraternal half-drow siblings.
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realm Above, in the Land of the Great Light." the taller one murmured. "Come in peace and live beneath the sun again, where the trees and the flowers grow." Her wistful recitation of Eilistraee's message in the common tongue caused the little ones to draw closer together.
Lillith's heart went out to these lost ones. "Vendui, lotha dalninil (Greetings, little sister)," she began, getting to her feet and bowing. "Usstan kyorl telanth rivven (I see you speak common), waelin jallil (young lady), xal udos telanth (may we speak)? Dos Lu'Usstan (You and I)?" The formality of her drow speech of welcome was a sign of respect among the elves of the Underdark.
"Vedui, seler'rim," the taller child returned in the high elven language, sketching a bow in spite of the press of the others around her. "I am now called Cluvista, formerly of the house hue D'nai." She smiled, looking down at her charges. " This is Heile and Cale." She placed her hands on the half-drow twin's heads. "And these two," she said with pride. "Are Khama and Kharmah." At the mention of their name, each bowed solemnly.
Lil couldn't help but be impressed by this young drow maiden who spoke Drow, Common, and Elvish. At the orphanage in Highcliff, Lil had studied the elven languages, never knowing that someday she'd be using them. "If I may ask, lotha dalninil, where are we? Isn't it unusual for ilythiiri waelin ussen(drow little ones)to be alone so near the surface?"
"Dear sister," the drow maiden's smile was guarded. "We are followers of Eilistraee, who eschew the way of the drow; We embrace the teachings of our Lady Silverhair, and with her blessing will once again be called Ssri-tel'Quessir. Please begin our friendship by calling me Clu," she concluded, her smile was one of hope.
Lil took Clu's hands in her own and said, "Then we are truly well met, sister Cluvista, formerly of the house hue. I am Lillith Edgewater nee Liantelle of Highcliff. You must call me Lil, though." Lil's trademark smile lit her whole face.
Liantelle, Clu was thoughtful. Lillith, is dark one and liantelle, is little spider. Our sister uses the human's naming convention as well. Evidently relatives of this pale skinned, part-drow sister had been helped to the surface by the moon elves after the crown wars, many generations ago. "Then you are aware of the obstacles we face," she said, shooing the children, who dispersed around the room. "The biggest that we face is now outside of this cave," she confided with lowered voice. "We are trapped in a troll's food pen."
Rolan's search of the camp was more successful than he'd dared to hope for. Its last occupant seemed to have been a moderately successful hunter. A longbow, with a quiver filled with razor-tipped arrows, and skinning knife were carefully wrapped and lay beside a pile of cured hides. A well oiled pack contained treasure; A healing kit with a bottle of salve and a sewing kit with needle and thread. He also found a small hand-axe and a cooking pan rolled up in a bed-roll in the bottom of the backpack. He wondered at the absence of any food, though.
Treating the boy was a snap; While he was still unconscious, Rolan managed to wash his wound and close it with three fine stitches using the sewing kit. Applying salve and binding the cut finished the job neatly-There wouldn't be much of a scar.
They sat in a companionable silence with their backs against a large rock. The warm sun felt good on bare faces and arms. Rolan had found a reasonably clean linen tunic for the child, who seemed to possess the ability to burn a fully grown forest troll. He wasn't sure, the moon elf boy hadn't said a word since waking from an exhausted doze.
Where was Lil? Was she alright? Although he felt he was wasting time, Rolan stayed awhile longer with the lost boy. Maybe the hunter would return and claim the child. "I wonder where the hunter went?" he mused aloud, his gaze wandered up the trail toward Ember.
"Trolls ate him," the boy looked up at Rolan, then away, as if his answer would anger his benefactor. "Trolls ate our guide too. Now we won't find the orphanage in Last Port. Damn trolls."
"Don't you mean Port Llast?" Rolan's face was thoughtful. "You said we... are there others?" Lil's missing, I don't need to get tangled up with this. His worry about her was growing as time passed.
"There was seven of us," the boy looked up the trail, as if expecting visitors. "Mistress D'nai, with four twins, me, and the ranger hired to take us... to Port Llast. The trolls killed the ranger and threw us all into a smelly cave. They blocked it with broken trees, but I got out and tried to get the hunter to help, but... a troll killed him too." The child buried his face in his hands and wept.
Rolan waited, putting his arm around his new-found friend until he settled down, then asked, "Was it you who burned that troll up the hill there?" Despite the damping effect the Duskwood had on magic, whoever killed that troll exercised great power.
"Y-Yes I did," he looked guilty. "Mistress says it's wrong... I could hurt someone that I love..."
"She's right," Rolan agreed. "But defending yourself is never wrong, and using your power to defend loved ones should be your purpose." An idea dawned on him. "Do you think you could burn another troll if you had to?" His grey eyes held the boy's blue ones.
"Yeah, if I had to," the boy's firm voice was beyond his years.
"Good deal, then. Let's get going," Roland said, standing and shouldering the longbow and pack. "What do I call you?" he asked. "My name is Rolan Edgewater, from Highcliff." He extended a hand.
They shook hands—The boy had a surprisingly strong grip for one so young. "My name is Galcuiva. I don't like it much. It means..." the boy said shyly.
"I know what it means. I'm half moon-elf myself," Rolan interrupted. "And later on, the ladies will love it, trust me." He smiled as they set off up the trail to the troll cave.
The boy led Rolan up a narrow trail to a rock ledge overlooking another abandoned camp just off the cart track. The remains of a campfire and a broken wagon were the only signs of recent use. The boy, who insisted that Rolan call him Gale, pointed out the forest troll sow sleeping on a grass-mat bed between a large boulder and the side of the mountain.
"That's one of the biggest trolls I've ever seen," Rolan said, setting his bow, quiver, and shoulder bag down. "Is he the only one left after... you got the other one?"
Gale held a finger to his lips and whispered, "It's a girl and she's got a little one... that's probably why she's so nasty tempered, even for a damned troll." The look of fear on his face was almost comical.
"So, where are the others, your family?" after a quick scan, Rolan didn't know where the cave was. Looking at the crags over the troll's bed revealed no rocks or trees that could be dropped onto the green beast. But then, he hesitated at the thought of killing her—That went against his nature. This creature, troll or not, had a young one. There might be another way to make her leave.
"The cave is just beyond that rock there." the boy pointed. "You can see one of the logs sticking out. There's another way in just over there," he said, pointing to a narrow crevasse behind them on the path. "But you wouldn't get through it. You're too big."
The boy studied him for a moment, his eyes intently on his face. "Is there a way to set fire to the troll's bed, make enough noise to frighten her away?" Rolan asked, "Maybe just enough pain to keep her away for awhile?"
Gale's face brightened. "Maybe just a little bit of lightning," he enthused, mimicking his new-found friend. "When it hits that bed... noise and fire. Damned troll is stupid; She won't know where to run, but away and gone."
"We're all set, then," Rolan said, picking up a handful of stones to pelt the little one with. He didn't want to torment it, just make its mother take it out of danger. He looked at the boy sternly and said, "If this backfires and she attacks us, can you cast a fire spell on her? It may mean our lives. You can't hesitate."
"I won't," he replied in the same ageless voice as before. "Depend on me." His face also said he meant it.
The boy closed his eyes, his face was set in intense concentration. His hands, palms pressed together, were pointed at the troll's grass bed. When he opened his eyes a blue bolt of raw energy descended from the sky and touched down next to the slumbering troll.
The troll was on her feet at the crash of the lightning; Her little one squealing in terror. The flames from the bed licking up the sow's leg caused her to grab up the little one and depart for a safer refuge, not looking back even once. The squalling of her little one eventually faded to silence when they were out of hearing.
"You sure put the fear of the gods in those two," Rolan said, laughing as he slapped the grinning elf boy on the back.
The boy's smiling face became serious as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe if she's shy from now on, she'll live longer. I hope she doesn't come back. It'd be a shame to have to kill her," he said with a shake of his head.
The lad's reluctance to kill gave Rolan's heart a lift. He hoped Gale would never get so hardened that taking a life would be commonplace."That's a good point-Troll females tend to be very shy," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I don't think she'll be back." He gathered up his bow and shoulder bag. "You know, I think maybe you've done some good here. Let's go find your... family and get them to Port Llast."
The mouth of the cave was filled with broken tree branches and loose rock. It looked like a hopeless task to Rolan. "They're in here, right?" he asked, kicking at some of the loose gravel on the path. His wife seemed to be getting farther away from him. He sighed in resignation.
To answer his question, the boy stepped up and started pulling out branches and throwing rocks off of the pile. His face was set in determination—He didn't look up to see if he was being helped.
Chastened by the boy's energetic example, Rolan pitched in, grappling some of the larger boulders out of the way.
"Mistress, I hear someone coming," the little one named Cale said, his voice high with excitement. He ran to the blocked entrance to their cave before his drow matron, barely more than a girl herself, could restrain him.
After sending the others to their hiding places around their stone prison, Clu motioned for Lil to follow her after the impulsive child. She was worried that he'd heard the troll returning.
A shaft of pale sunlight speared into the tunnel near the roof, onto the floor, transfixing the half-drow child—His hands were clasped over his eyes, he was obviously in pain. Clu swept him up in her arms and retreated back through the tunnel to the cavern.
Lillith retreated a few steps, a stout tree branch clutched in both hands. Her blood was up—She wasn't just showing drow; She'd become a drow. The light dimmed and a few stones rattled down to the floor inside as a pair of blue eyes appeared at the gap near the ceiling. Giving a loud cry of thanks to Sehanine, Lil threw down her club and climbed the tumbledown all the way to the ceiling. Her ears heard a most welcome sound—Gale was saying, "The troll's gone, mistress. I've got someone to help us. We're digging you out."
Chosen of Eilistraee Drow Translations;
Vendui, lotha dalninil-Greetings, little sister
Ussten kyorl telanth rivven, waelin jallil, xal udos telanth? Dos Lu'Usstan?
I see you speak common, young lady, may we speak? You and I?
Ilythiiri waelin ussen-drow young ones
Grey Company Elven Translations;
Galcuiva-To celebrate awakening
Vedui, Seler'rim-Greetings, Respected Sister
Ssri-tel'Quessir-dark elves (before the descent)
liantelle-little spider
A/N Profuse thank-you's to Shirl'le E. Illios, high priestess of Eilistraee, for the Drow translator and the Message of Eilistraee, from her web-pages; The Chosen of Eilistraee. C.