Doc was still with the matron in her office when Rolan led Mister Gray and his band into the common room of Port Llast's orphanage. They were here to collect Marlah Kimber's problem child, Daniel. Today, his journey from street thug to sailor for the crown would begin under the watchful eyes of the Eagle's officers.
The ship's elven lead carpenter, scanned the waif's home with a practiced eye. His moniker, Nails, was given to him by shipmates who learned of his preference for joinery over fasteners in his work. The beauty of the Double Eagle and the economy of her fittings was a testimony to his fussiness.
Rebuilding the broken furniture here would be child's play. He would enjoy flexing his skilled muscles on the real work that needed his attention. Re-hanging broken doors and re-glazing missing windows would take time to do right, but it would be time well spent. He even had some new ideas about stowage-In his world, space was at a premium. Shipboard carpentry was all about using limited space wisely. When Mister Gray took the lad in hand, he could begin working.
Rolan and the Eagle's Master-at-Arms stood before the barred door that held Daniel captive. "He in there?" the grey-orc asked, anticipating the challenge that lay in wait. Upon seeing Rolan's nod, he lifted the bar and set it carefully aside. Two of his layabouts with truncheons stepped up behind him. "Hold here," he rumbled. "I need ya... I'll call." He slowly opened the door and stepped quickly inside.
"So, how goes it?" Doc, having finished with patching up the matron, had re-joined the Eagle's unofficial press gang.
"Mister Gray wants to deal with him one-on-one," Rolan replied. "He won't have to hurt him, will he?" He didn't want Daniel's blood on his hands.
"Not to worry," the dark elf was confident. "Gray is very good with the lads. There's not a one who bears him ill will." Nods of assent and murmured ayes went around the small group at this.
"How does he keep them in line, then?" Rolan asked, mystified.
She smiled at the chance to tell; "Most disciplinarians prefer to knock heads and twist an arm or two in the process-Gray likes to twist minds-Then the bodies follow right along behind. He says it's less work," she said, her smile was one of affection. "The captain says he's worth his weight in truncheons and leg-irons. This lot would sail to the very hells and back for him." Again, there were ayes all around. "While Gray works his magic, let's take a look at the Ilythiiri young ones, Rolan, where are they?" the ship's surgeon asked, with a look around. They were her real interest here.
"The last time I was here, they were in the cellar," he led her to the door and removed its bar. "There are two pair of twins and a single. The twins are very young, less than ten seasons. The single is near her majority."
"Dark elf twins?" Doc mused. "They are extremely rare. Some believe they are a sign of favor among the drow deities."
"I've met them," he answered. "Khama and Kharmah are identical female drow twins, while Cale and Heile are boy-girl fraternal half-drow twins. Cluvista is a full-blooded dark elf near her majority. She is afraid we're going to send her back to the Underdark."
"I can take care of that," Doc assured him. "I must ask, though, please do not remind us of our brand of hell. The descent is a history not of our choosing."
"Understood," he said. "Please accept my apology, then."
"Thank you, Rolan," she was grateful. "Now, please attend me while I meet the little ones below. If I call, come down and try not to let a lot of light in when you open the door." She then briefed him on his part in the Ritual of Light. He was to open the cellar door to allow more and more light below as the ritual progressed. When concluded, their eyes would be adjusted to the light and their journey at an end. With Rolan briefed, she slipped through the door and descended the stairs.
The Eagle's surgeon sat on the bottom step in the cellar, allowing quiet to settle once more. She hadn't failed to notice the rustling sound here below when the light invaded from her entrance. There was also a muted sound of wood scraping on stone, then... silence.
It was easy for her to see where the children went, even in the near-total darkness. Her eyes were drawn to the marks on the floor where a shelf filled with bottles and jars of food met with that floor-It had been moved out and pushed back into place recently.
"You can come out now, your journey is near its end," she pitched her voice barely above a whisper that they were sure to hear.
"Has it, or is this where we are turned back?" a dark elf maiden, seated on the floor a few paces from the stairs asked in a chilled tone she hadn't heard in years. Only the Ilythiiri could manage that aloof, detached air.
Doc smiled at the memory this brave child called up. Not more than twenty seasons ago, she had undergone the Ritual of Light that had accustomed her eyes to the glare here on the surface. Back then, the Temple of Eilistraee was a back room in a weaponsmith's shop in Waterdeep. Keeping ahead of drow assassins fostered a tradition of secrecy among The Silver Lady's faithful. Now each priestess carried her vestments in a shoulder bag-Any room could now serve as a temple.
"There is but one final step, sister," she said, getting to her feet. "Your journey will end with the Ritual of Light. First, allow me to introduce myself, I am Caeryth, ship's surgeon of His Majesty Lord Nasher Alagondar's Double Eagle and third-level Priestess of Our Lady Eilistraee, at your service." she bowed formally.
"I... am Cluvista, of the house hue D'nai that is no more," she returned with a steady voice, bolstered by will alone. Her bow, in return was just as grave.
She once more, sat on a bottom step, patting a place next to her. "Then, hopefully, we are well met. Sit, so we can talk, you and I, and please, call me Doc," she invited.
The grey-orc sat on a bunk opposite his charge. The lad was brighter than most, in his estimation, making this job that much easier. "So, the choice is yours; you can come with us, be one of us, or we will take you... either way, you will wake up tomorrow morning aboard ship. Will it be in the brig as a slave, or in the berthing space as a sailor?" he asked, re-rolling the boy's Article of Indenture and tucking it into a pocket of his tunic. The furrow in his brow deepened.
Daniel was in a corner. Evidently that soft-hearted, soft-headed matron had gotten enough backbone to draw up a writ on him. His fight with her had been about this room. She said she needed it for those misbegotten drow pigs that had just shown up out of nowhere. It didn't matter that his work brought in most of the money these swine sucked up every day. Bunk with the brats? Uh uh-That'll never happen. "Alright, since I've got no real choice here, let me pack up a few things," he grumped, stood, and picked up a ragged rucksack, stuffing items plucked from the litter strewn about the room.
"One more thing to do before we leave," Mister Gray turned back from the door. "Listen..."
When the door opened and Daniel stepped out, the two layabouts, who were lounging near a window watching the women passing by, straightened and took up positions on each side of the bewildered boy. He was not considered small, but had to look up at them to meet their eyes. They took their time sizing him up.
"Well, young man, I guess this is good-bye," the matron said, mustering as much dignity as she could. "We've... done as much as we could for you. Do not forget where you've come from." There was more relief than anger in her words.
The boy considered this, then feeling a large gray hand on his shoulder, said, "I'm... sorry for my lack of respect for myself and you... and regret harming you." He couldn't meet her steady gaze.
"Fine words, lad," she said, her chin was up. "Show us... show these men here that you really mean it. Make us proud of you."
"With your leave, Mistress," the Master at Arms rumbled. Seeing her nod, he raised his voice, looking around; "Nails, it's all secure-The hull is yours. I'll send these two back after we deliver Dan, here, to the Captain." With that, the Eagle's newest sailor, with a shortened name was escorted to his new home.
"It is hard to imagine you're from The City of Spiders." Doc was from Menzoberranzan herself, and knew of the great distance as well as the danger of getting from there to the city of Waterdeep. Less than two-in-ten escaped to the light of day. Clu and her charges were very fortunate to find their way to The Undermountain, the mad wizard Halaster's domain, where an ancient machine bore them to the surface into the arms of Eilistraee's faithful. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you escape?"
Clu seemed a bit reluctant; "House D'nai was a peaceful farming group that was allied with the eighth house when I was born. A clash with the first house crushed... the eighth house and all its allied enclaves... a brother and I managed to escape to the Braeryn. That's where the outlaws and the sick are banished. He... was killed by a drunken hunting party that swept the area not long after we were taken in... by a human who turned out to be a harper agent. For some reason they were involved with the house wars and revolts that raged for generations there." She looked sadly across the room at the shelf of bottles and jars. "Heile and Cale are that valiant harper's young ones. When a revolt at the first house threatened the whole city, he and his wife took us to the portal to the Undermountain, and defended it with their lives... so we could escape. They did not follow us through, so we assumed the worst..." She seemed to have run out of words.
The Ilythiiri maiden's news saddened her, but it was not unexpected. House wars, a bane of drow existence for generations, were a fact of life, and death. The eighth house, the house of Do'urdan, along with its retainer, the house hue D'nai, were no more-Doc and Clu were the lone survivors of their respective enclaves. "You and your little ones are very brave indeed," she said, placing an arm tenderly around Clu's shoulder. "You honor your houses with your survival. I would very much like to meet them, if I may."
The girl walked to the far wall and pulled a pin from the bottom shelf. Sliding the shelf away from the wall, she ducked into the void behind it. She reappeared carrying an ornately carved shoulder bag of what looked to be black dragon hide. Dark elves wielding farm implements adorned its sides.
With little fanfare, she introduced each young one as they emerged and were seated on the floor at Doc's feet. Their courtly bow before sitting enchanted her. "They... they're beautiful," she couldn't help but marvel. In spite of their confinement, their grooming was immaculate-They appeared to be well fed. Now, I wonder if they're still tactile, she thought. They were at the age where the need to touch and be touched was ruthlessly trained out of them.
They watched her with a healthy curiosity and a calm lack of fear. "Cale... please... come," Doc invited, holding out her arms. This was a test they wouldn't recognize; In drow society, choosing a male first in any social setting was considered an insult to any waiting female. His sisters' affectionate touches and unspoken encouragement as he stood up removed all of the surgeon's reservations. Their ascent to the light would be as easy as walking up the stairs.
Without hesitation, he placed his hands in hers. When she squeezed, he squeezed right back, an impish smile lit his not-quite-human yet not-quite-drow face. You little devil, she couldn't help thinking, you'll be a real heart-breaker in just a few short years. After seating him on the second step behind her, she called to his sister, Heile.
"You can call her Hye, we all do," her twin brother piped up from his seat on the steps. Without waiting, she crawled up into Doc's lap and threw an arm companionably around her neck. From this perch, she was the queen of all she surveyed.
"Can we stay?" her serious look and simple question expressed their heart's hope.
"Do you really, really want to?" Doc asked, looking sideways at her. "You have to be worthy. It won't be easy."
Heile's solemn, wide eyed nod sealed the deal.
She kissed the half-drow girl's forehead. "Alright, you all can stay," she pronounced, seating her beside Cale on the stair-step.
Now for the gems, Doc thought. She had to contain her excitement-Were these two blood relatives? She had to be sure. "Kharmah... Khama," she said, once again, her arms were outstretched.
They were identical-To the casual observer. Khama's ear notches, cut just above each lower lobe, marked her as the second born-Birth order was important in their matriarchal society. Drow nobility were noted for finer features; Ear points just a bit sharper-The entire ear a bit smaller; Eyes of almond shape, less rounded than most elves. The two middle fingers of the same length on each hand marked the higher class. And the most obvious feature was house tattoos-Doc unbuttoned the top button on Kharmah's tunic...
She smiled in relief. "They are my own flesh and blood," sighing, she embraced them both. Looking up at Clu, she asked, "They have their birth markings... but where are the house marks?" For the first time in many years, Doc opened her top button to show the silver tattoo that identified her as a member of house Do'urdan.
"My Lady," Clu was shocked. "They were hostages to fealty to the first house... Their survival was not intended. During the revolt, the harper... brought them to his home," she said, her forehead was on the floor.
She helped the distraught girl to her feet. Holding Clu's face between her hands, she said, "They are alive, to my joy." She looked intently into the girl's eyes. "And I have you to thank. Eilistraee's blessings, you have earned a place in the sun. Come, we will begin the Ritual of Light.
Rolan was seated on a borrowed chair close to the cellar entry door. Things had settled into their normal routine soon after Daniel's departure. The ship's carpenter, with the help of two sturdy boys, was carting out litter to make way for them to work.
The matron was overseeing Elspeth and her sister as they readied Daniel's recently vacated room for its new tenants. There were bunks to be made and a chest-of-drawers to be cleaned out. Until the dark elves could tolerate the light completely, this dark room would be their home.
He heard the voices from below-The Ritual of Light had started;
A rightful place awaits you in the Realm Above, in the land of the Great Light. Come in peace and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow.
As instructed, Rolan unlatched the door and opened it a finger's width-Very little light would be admitted. The first passage; On Promoting Joy drifted up from below;
Encourage happiness everywhere; Lift hearts with kind words, jests, songs and merriment. Whenever possible, food should be eaten with accompaniment of song. Except for properly sad occasions, a feast should be accompanied by merriment. Promote happiness and gaiety whenever possible.
The door above opened to a half-hand, easing the gloom somewhat. Doc started the passage; On Self-Improvement;
Learn how to cook game and how best to hunt it. Learn how to play, make, and repair musical instruments. Learn new songs, dances,and ways with weapons, spices, and recipes, and pass this learning on, wherever possible. Practice music and swordwork.
When opened a full hand, the door admitted just a little more light. There was really very little difference, but the little ones could tell, they recited the passage; On Possessions-They knew it by heart;
Wealth is to be used to buy food, musical instruments, good swords and armor, and other tools to serve the will of the goddess. When on the road feed, aid, and defend the needy along the way with a prayer to the goddess. Lend assistance to those who fight for good, asking as price no more than an object that can be used to the benefit of the goddess' works.
Rolan knew the next passage. Lil had shown him a chapter about the teachings of The Silver Lady in one of her history books. That chapter had refreshed what he was taught in primary school. When the initiates felt the light increase, they recited Eilistraee's words; On Food;
Where food cannot be purchased or received, it must be gathered or hunted for. Feed yourself by your own gardening and hunting skills as much as possible. Set aside food and give it as often as possible to strangers in need, particularly outcasts and those of other races. In times of plenty, store food for lean times ahead.
Some of these teachings were from a book Rolan read in primary school-It was The Olde Farmer's Almanack. To show Doc he was right there with them, he opened the door a bit further to start the next passage that dealt with strangers;
Strangers are your friends. Any hungry travelers met with, who offer no threats, are to be fed—Carry food at all times for this purpose. The homeless must be given shelter from storms, under your own roof if need be. In harsh winters, patrol the lands about to find and take in the lost, the hurt, and those caught in the teeth of cold. Try to convert at least one stranger per moon to the worship of Eilistraee.
This next passage; On Conflict, Rolan had had the hardest time memorizing in primary school. To this day the words danced just outside his recall;
Defend and aid all folk, promoting harmony between the races. When fighting evil, burn the bodies of evil creatures slain as an offering to the goddess—Unless such creatures are edible and non-sentient, and there are hungry folk near. When faithful and allies fall in battle, any priestess present must, if possible, provide burial, a funeral song, and comfort to the bereaved. Repay rudeness with kindness. Repay violence with swift violence, so that the fewest may be hurt and danger fast removed from the land.
The door was open almost all the way now. Rolan looked down to see the group seated around Doc, who was on the bottom step. Their attention was on the book that the Eagle's surgeon held open. The final passage; On Drow, was recited by Clu. As if entreating all surface dwellers, she looked up at Rolan and the little girl standing near him and said:
Aid all drow who are in distress. If the drow are in combat the fighting is to be stopped with as little bloodshed as possible. So long as the drow met with are not working evil on others, they are to be aided and given the message of Eilistraee:
They all recited the message-Rolan heard it clearly. The ritual would close as it started;
A rightful place awaits you in the Realm Above, in the land of the Great Light. Come in peace and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow.
Doc's final recital was loud and clear; Aid the weak, strong, grateful, and churlish alike. Be always kind, save in battle with evil. With that said, she stood and said, "Come my children, the light awaits."
Rolan had to smile when the child standing next to him ran down the hall, calling, "They're coming up... everybody... they're coming up."
A/N Thanks to Shir'le E. Ilios-High priestess of Eilistraee's web page The Chosen of Eilistraee for Eilistraee's Dogma. C.
I'll say it again-Thanks Wyl. C.