NATHYRRA
Nathyrra examined the thin circular scar on her upper arm, where as a golem she'd re-attached it after it had been cut off by Enserric's luminous edge, the only surety she had that it was all not simply a feverish, fanciful dream or simply an illusion of the Elder Brain's elaborate making. There was the physical evidence of it, the permanent mark that was etched in a silvery, ragged, raised line that stood out in stark contrast against her midnight skin.
She recalled what the Seer had said to her, when she had first come to terms with her wretched past in regards to a suddenly upended world-view. She had not known how to live without Lloth's principles to guide her path - how to cope with the eyes of her victims that followed her every footstep. The Seer's wisdom had suggested that Nathyrra seek the meaning in each moment, whether that be past or present. What meaning, she had wondered then, could have been derived from the mountain of corpses Nathyrra had left in her wake? What to do with the eyes that followed her dreams? The Seer had said, they died so that you might live. Whether it was a worthy trade is irrelevant. All you have now is your life, and what you will make of it.
What to make of the scar, then? The strange experience of the mirror's alternate reality, that robbed her of her very identity and replaced it with a mindless automaton? Even as a golem, she had tried in her own way to seek the meaning of her moments - going so far as to give up on her primary drive and replace it with a new one: to reassemble the mirror at all costs.
"Nathyrra?" The Seer spoke her name, getting the younger woman's attention. There was a slight clatter as the Seer placed her teacup back upon the tray. They were in her chambers after the long march back to the city of Lith My'athar with their small army of former slaves in tow. Those who had chosen to travel with them were now being settled and ordered by the other Eilistraeens, who were treating their wounds and giving them supplies.
Nathyrra blinked and re-ordered her thoughts quickly. She was supposed to be delivering a report on the events of Zorvak'Mur. "I am sorry to report that we failed in our endeavor," she said quietly in Ilythiiri, grateful to return to her mother tongue after having to mentally translate into Common for many days. "The illithid - what is left of them - remain allied with the Valsharess and will likely staunchly support her in the future. We destroyed the Elder Brain of this pod and decimated it, however, which can be counted a small victory."
"This was not an unanticipated outcome of events," the Seer mulled. "What happened? I see you have a new scar," she indicated.
Nathyrra didn't know how to begin to explain what had happened. "We, I, it, hmm," she stumbled over words unusually, trying to find the most delicate and efficient way to explain what occurred. "I am having trouble beginning to explain . . . It will sound absurd."
"Take your time," the Seer suggested.
". . . The avariel queen's mirror was broken, again," Nathyrra began, "by Binne this time - we were trapped in negotiations with the Elder Brain, who attempted to lure us into several different illusions to break down our guard and manipulate us. Negotiations had already broken down. The broken mirror's spell placed us all in various parts of the city of Zorvak'Mur after, and I found myself transformed into an automaton with no clear memory of anything else."
"A golem?"
"A sanitary-work-golem," she clarified. "I eventually ran into Valen, himself afflicted by the delusion that he was a baker of some kind, as well as Deekin and Binne, both under their own spells . . ." She went off on a stuttering explanation of the uncertain events that had landed them there while the Seer listened attentively with wide, open eyes.
When she was finished, the Seer paused and sipped at her tea. "It appears I was right to be cautious about using that mirror," she concluded.
"I . . . Would prefer it remain in your hands from now on," Nathyrra offered. "If it becomes broken again by us, who knows what may happen this time?"
"Indeed. A baker, of all things," the Seer chuckled.
"That part was a little amusing, in hindsight," Nathyrra agreed with a smile. "Though, please do not tell him I said so."
"You have my word. But Solaufein . . . A Hand of Bane? This is indeed a dangerous artifact. I am reminded of the Talontar Valen reported, that the mirror had twisted in its shattered reflection. I cannot help but wonder what would become of me, if faced with such a fate. I will pray for Eilistraee's guidance in handling it," she promised, and extended out her hands. Nathyrra placed the spider silk-wrapped hand mirror in her hands, relieved to have it finally out of her party's possession.
"We have not seen any movement from the Valsharess' encampments," the Seer reported to her. "And I have received no visions of late. It appears our efforts have borne fruit in at least stalling our enemy's advance."
"I believe Solaufein wishes to pursue the beholder cavern next," Nathyrra said as she scratched at her new scar. "We both agree that they are the greater threat than the undead in our neighboring cavern. If we are swift enough in our mission, we may have time to pursue both leads."
"I am well pleased with our progress so far, even if the arch-devil is what worries me the most, and we have made no progress on that front," said the Seer. "He has a part yet to play in these events."
Nathyrra thought back on their progress so far. She had been pressed with the duty of scouting the movements of the Valsharess' forces while Solaufein, Binne, Valen and Deekin had investigated the islands. They had returned with an absurdly powerful artifact and a small army of sentient golems who had elected to aid them in their plight. So far, the only thing they had accomplished under Nathyrra's guidance was the utter rampaging destruction of the illithid city of Zorvak'Mur, and the successful assassination of Zessyr's mother. When faced with the opportunity to get her hands dirty in abbanelith, Nathyrra had been extremely eager; she had struggled so hard to leave that part of her life behind her that it now ashamed her to admit she had enjoyed the battle against the Mae'vir Matron. "Mother Seer, do you think I did the wrong thing? Ending Myrune's life?" She asked honestly.
The Seer was quiet a moment before answering, perhaps contemplating her words carefully, or unsure of what to say. Her response was clear and concise, once it was formulated: "I think ending Myrune's life was the only thing you could do. Ultimately, she attacked you when you revealed Solaufein as one of Eilistraee's Chosen."
Nathyrra perked up. "Is he? Truly?"
The Seer smiled. "I believe so. But, I do not think he believes it. He sees himself only as a weapon, still, even after leaving and living apart from his homeland for so long. I hope one day we might be able to guide him to better thinking," she added with a pointed look, "as I know you have struggled with a similar belief."
Nathyrra looked down at her clasped hands. All she had ever known before meeting the Seer was treachery and violence, at the hands of others and at her own. Speaking and joking with Solaufein and Imloth before they had left to explore the illithid cavern had set her at ease; to be amongst faces and voices like her own and remember how to laugh and smile with them was a gift. A gift she felt had been unearned.
"Be patient with yourself," the Seer cautioned, and grabbed at one of Nathyrra's tense hands, enclosing it in her own. "Nothing worthwhile ever comes easily."
The small army of former slaves they had brought back with them from Zorvak'Mur had settled themselves in amongst the Eilistraeens as best as could be managed. Many were angry that they did not have a clear path to the surface. Others were glad at the chance to fight the Valsharess' forces and picked up arms when given the opportunity. Even Celia, who had clearly never before been allowed to wield a sword, was eager to train with the Eilistraeen forces if it meant she stood a fighting chance of surviving the Underdark. Others yet seemed weary of fighting and took no joy in the thought of taking up a cause just when they had earned their freedom. The Seer, for her part, had promised them all safe passage to the surface once they were able to secure an exit that wasn't through the dangerous Undermountain. A few former gladiators decided to forage out on their own, once they were healed and given supplies, but Nathyrra did not spare any hope for them. They were intrepid and brave, but the Underdark had a way of crushing the intrepid and brave. She did not expect to ever see them alive again.
It wasn't exactly clear what the rest of the city thought of the Eilistraeen additions. The golems, the city had accepted openly and with fascination - Mae'vir's wizard Gulhrys had approached them with an expressed desire of studying them. The former slaves, they were perhaps less than enthusiastic about, barely sparing them the courtesy of dirty glances as they were marched through the city toward the former temple. Zessyr, by then, had formally taken over her mother's household and situated herself as Matron, but did not intend to do anything more ambitious with her position until the Valsharess was defeated. This meant that the household's many slaves that were loyal to her mother had likely either been executed or exiled, most certainly the former, as such was the way with Nathyrra's people. Slaves were little more than cattle to her people.
The Seer always encouraged Nathyrra to try and find the positive side to things - and the politician in Nathyrra was always looking for the advantage to any situation. She was struggling to see the advantage that Solaufein had brought them from the illithid, however. Though the Elder Brain was destroyed, there were surely other pods of illithid that had allied themselves with the Valsharess, and their alliance was more cemented than ever before now that Solaufein had given the mind-flayers a good reason to detest their faction. Some of the gladiators would prove useful, but the rest of the slaves were little more than a burden.
Nathyrra's orders from Malla Seer were to assist Solaufein in his endeavors; Cazna had taken over as chief scout, and Nathyrra trusted her to be up to the task. The former-but-still-somewhat-assassin left the Eilistraeen compound after her report to the Seer and found Solaufein were he had promised to be - at Rizolvir's smithy, having the talkative Enserric's edge upgraded.
"Why would anyone make a sword talk?" Was Valen's greeting in Common, as he stood guard at Solaufein's back with his hand ready on his flail.
"It's not Enserric's fault he's chatty, he was apparently a rather dour fellow before getting his soul sucked into a vampiric sword by way of a spell misfire," Binne said. "As these things do happen."
"I'm not chatty," Enserric objected from the anvil. "I'm loquacious! And vivacious! After these upgrades, who wouldn't want me in their armory?! I'll be simply stunning! You have to take pride in what you are, I think." Rizolvir made a sour face at the sword's antics.
"You are lucky I do not leave you in the armory for a less loquacious sword," Solaufein threatened. He turned to see Nathyrra and nodded in greeting.
"We are to head to the b'ahlach cavern next?" She stated, more than asked.
"We are having enchantments placed on our weapons to aid us in that adventure," he said.
"And a cold iron one for me, should we encounter any undead from the other cavern," Binne added.
"Have you re-supplied yet?" Nathyrra wondered.
"Deekin just about to go haggle, drow-lady welcome to join Deekin," the little kobold offered.
She suspected her reputation at his side might net them a few discounts - or the opposite, depending on where Gulhrys' loyalties might lay. Still, Nathyrra nodded and followed the bard with his bag of holding to the market, leaving the threesome at the forge, and trusting Valen to protect their savior.
They had arrived back from the illithid cavern when the city was asleep, and Nathyrra had delivered her report on the events that had transpired there the following morning to the Seer. A few hours of haggling with Gulhrys later for a cloak of mirroring and other magical protections, and Nathyrra deemed them well-prepared for their endeavor. She and Deekin walked back to the forge, where Rizolvir was just finishing up with Binne's scythe and was looking at their armor.
"It's served me well thus far, though it generally just weighs me down when I'm running," Binne was saying. "Still, I'd rather have the adamantine scales than leather. I don't know how you do it, Solaufein."
"As I said, it interferes with my spell-casting, which we may need in the cavern ahead," Solaufein said. He turned to Rizolvir. "Have you the—"
Rizolvir cut him off with a nod. "Reinforced with mithral, as you requested," he stated and from one of his back shelves pulled forth a black leather cuirass with its accompanying components and handed them over to the eager Solaufein, who whistled in appreciation. It appeared to have been made from the same sort of material Rizolvir had used in constructing Nathyrra's, so she knew he would be well-protected despite the downgrade of armor.
"Usstan bel'la dos," Solaufein said sincerely, and right there in the street regardless of who might see him or attempt to assassinate him, he started to strip off his armor and put on the new set.
"Have you no regard for our enemies?" Valen stated, a little outraged.
"They are welcome to test me," Solaufein offered generously, pulling on the breastplate and pauldrons, and struggled to strap himself single-handedly. Binne quickly stepped in to help him instinctively with practiced hands. "I am sure you will kill - or at least severely maim - anyone who attempts to attack us now," he said reassuringly to Valen.
"I am glad you have confidence in my skills, but a little annoyed you'd just take off your armor in the middle of the streets here," Valen stated stiffly.
"Who's going to attack him? Riz?" Binne looked over to the smith, who shrugged and went right back to work on whatever project he'd been working in before they arrived. "We just handed him all our gold to upgrade our gear. He's not attacking us any time soon, we're his biggest customers in this blighted city!"
Nathyrra sighed.
Shortly thereafter, they made their way to the city gates, where Nathyrra nodded to the guards - Mae'vir men - who sneered at her but nonetheless opened the doors for them. She wondered if they had been loyal to Myrune - then again, Zessyr would have had them executed if they had been.
"And so the noble heroes forged on, to slay the mighty eye tyrants!" Deekin crowed as they entered the wider cavern outside the city's limits. Of their company, Sharwyn and Tomi had elected to stay behind to help train the newly freed slaves, who responded better to the surfacers than they did most of the drow. Nathyrra and Valen were accompanying Solaufein, Binne, and Deekin to the b'ahlach cavern to destroy them.
"Deekin," Solaufein said quietly.
"Yes Boss?" Deekin turned to him.
"You must remain silent," Solaufein instructed carefully. "These caverns are unimaginably dangerous. Some of its greatest predators can locate you only through a heightened sense of hearing."
Valen shrugged. "I don't think even a tunnel worm would faze him, honestly. He'd probably try to ride it."
"Dare I even ask what a tunnel worm is?" Binne's eyebrow crawled up her forehead while the rest of her face twisted in a grimace.
"Nau," Solaufein told her.
"Er, does tunnel worms eat kobolds?" Deekin wondered sheepishly.
"Everything here eats kobolds, Deekin," Solaufein said tiredly, "especially b'ahlach! So keep quiet and stay close."
Deekin grumbled but agreed and became more quiet. "No one appreciates my art . . ." He lamented.
Whispering loudly, Binne leaned in toward Deekin's ear and said, "I appreciate your art, Deekin. We're loud people, it's not our fault." Her tail swerved around her body to poke at him, which Deekin swatted at, seemingly embarrassed. Binne chuckled.
Nathyrra gave them a weary look. "Nindol orn tlu koaj. Ol uriu l'gow d'ol," she said to Solaufein.
He let out a dark chuckle. "Ol zhah calestio ulu tlu wun kampi'unin xuil dos."
They came upon a patrol of the Valsharess' in the larger caverns, which they were easily able to circumvent and ambush - it was a war party of seven, three bolt men, two swordsmen, a wizard, and a priestess of Shar. Both Solaufein and Nathyrra entered into invisibility while Deekin and Binne remained behind and stuck to spell-casting - icy crossbow bolts and thrumming spears of eldritch energy flew over their heads into their enemies as Valen charged forth and targeted the priestess first, making short work of her before the swordsmen could step in to help.
Binne's whip snaked out and wrapped around the leg of one of the bolt men, dragging him toward her pointed war-scythe where his life abruptly ended in a bloody smear on the ground. Valen charged the other two and engaged them in a brief but bloody melee that ended with both of the remaining bolt men's brain matter spattering the ground. Solaufein charged the wizard and ended his enemy's life with Enserric's cackling edge, and Nathyrra was left wondering if there was anything really left for her to do in the battle. The threesome before her seemed to have honed their techniques as a group in her absence.
"Excellent work," she complimented, feeling a little unsure of herself for the first time in decades.
Valen nodded and flicked the brain matter and blood off of his flail. "Easy prey."
"We're getting better at this!" Binne crowed triumphantly but was quickly hushed by the others.
It took them several hours being led by Solaufein and Nathyrra in the dark, whom of their company alone possessed eyes that could penetrate that pitch blackness of the Underdark. Nathyrra primarily led them since she knew the way, her glowing eyes peering through the shadows as she guided them down the least tumultuous path she could find. They stumbled a few times - or rather Binne and Deekin did, being unused to such narrow passages and sharp crags in the dark - but they did eventually find their way to the entrance to the beholder cavern.
"We are here," Nathyrra hissed back to them, as their party drew to a halt.
Before them stood a strange black bridge made of sweeping metallic lines, drawn back, and a large solid gate blocking the way. There was a platform with a mechanism upon it that stood on a black marble pedestal, with markings upon it in the beholder language. Before Nathyrra could move toward it, Binne marched forward and started examining the strange device and poking and prodding at it with her scythe first and fingers second and received several small electric shocks for her efforts.
"Blimey, that stings," she commented lightly as she continued poking it.
This went on for several baffling seconds before Nathyrra decided she'd had enough and turned to Solaufein. "Zha'la usstan . . . ?" She queried.
Solaufein was clearly suppressing laughter at the sight before him. "Nau, kyorl . . . Ori'ilta xo'al whol natha rena velendev. Uns'iglata ol orn tlu fa'narow." As he spoke, Binne had shocked herself again trying to solve the beholder puzzle of the gate. Solaufein barely held back his snickering at her self-imposed predicament.
Nathyrra rolled her eyes at him. He may have been their savior, but his sense of humor was suspect. "Jivvin whol dos, nrunnin whol uns'aa. Kyorl lu'oh verve? Ol orn plynn n'nehr taga natha klew'ar."
Solaufein took a deep breath and smiled broadly, white teeth gleaming in the low light enchanted around the beholder gate. "Ori'gato naut udossa rush wund khruste aphyon. Foldraevals, uss zhal'la vrine'winith ulu l'amith l'kuttra knif."
Nathyrra thoughtfully smiled. "Dos phuul natha b'vecko nesst, Solaufein."
He shrugged and replied, "Alur b'vecko taga kelia, xor nrunnin."
Binne had apparently had enough and finally gave up, looking a bit sheepish as she turned away from the beholder puzzle. "Er, maybe I'm not the one who should be looking at this." She smoothed her hair down, which had started to stick up out of its braid due to the electric shocks. "Deekin?"
Valen had also apparently had enough. "You're asking the kobold? Nathyrra probably speaks the beholder language," he pointed out, accurately.
Nathyrra opened her mouth to speak up, but the kobold beat her to it. "No calls to be rude, goat-man - Deekin know lots of languages even drow-lady probably don't," the little bard chided. "Now stand aside, Ladyhorns! Deekin can fix!"
"Yeah goat-man, stand aside—" Binne paused for a moment, considering. "Ladyhorns?!" She objected, her hands flying up to her horns to touch them delicately and self-consciously. She rubbed at the missing notch.
"It is better than being called goat-lady," Solaufein pointed out with some amusement.
"Marginally!" She objected with a frown. "Whatever happened to Boss-Lady?"
"Ladyhorns get a big head after that, start thinking she be in charge of little Deekin," Deekin explained. "Deekin like this better." With that, he turned to the puzzle to study it intently.
Valen began a rare, genuine chuckle. "Heh . . . Ladyhorns."
"A-are you laughing?" Binne seemed amazed.
He continued, until he cut himself off. "Hehehehe-ahem."
Binne seemed torn between blushing in embarrassment and laughing with him and chose the latter. Nathyrra rolled her eyes again as the tiefling, cambion, and dark elf all began to chuckle. They stopped abruptly when Deekin announced, to Nathyrra's surprise, that he was finished. Binne cleared her throat. "Alright, well, let's all at least agree that I was wasting my time over there, and that I'll not be going near any more strange contraptions in the future that shock you when you do things wrong on them."
"How did you survive Undermountain at all?" Solaufein wondered.
"I cheated with the portals, remember? I found the loophole. I'm a warlock, it's what we do," she admitted.
Solaufein seemed to remember this darkly and shuddered. "I recall. No more portals. Ever."
Nathyrra realized something about Binne in that moment. "You would have made an excellent lawyer," she complimented.
Binne frowned, but then grinned. "That's considered the lowest of insults by my people, but I know you meant it as a compliment, so I'll take it!"
"Whom are 'your people,'?" Nathyrra wondered honestly.
Binne considered this. "Anyone from the city of Neverwinter, I suppose. Or just surfacers in general. Whatdoyacall them? Rivvin?"
"Rivvil, yes, rivvin for plural," she corrected. "Solaufein has been teaching our language?"
She blushed. "Well, mostly just the insults, but bits and pieces here and there. He's taught Deekin and I a bit of the silent language, too. Should be useful in combat, planning ambushes and the like up ahead."
Nathyrra nodded and made a mental note to make time for Binne's possible language lessons. Part of Nathyrra did expect that they would all die horribly in the near future, but they had made good headway against the Valsharess so far, and was it so wrong of her to want to hope that they survived? And it gave her something to look forward to - one of the things she enjoyed most about being an Eilistraeen was that she had the freedom to study languages, one of her passions. There was much about the surface she could learn from Binne in exchange for teaching her Ilythiiri - useful information should she live to follow the Seer back to her enclave on the surface.
With the eye tyrant puzzle solved, the bridge lowered into a cavern of shadows. Nathyrra lit a small mage light for their benefit in her hand and led the way, mentally preparing a contingency of invisibility just in case. The shadows gave way to a strange, almost flesh-like tunnel with a haphazardly tiled floor. In the distance she could hear small, skittering movements, beyond the shuffling of her companions' feet, and her skin puckered as she encountered the telltale sign in the Weave of heavy magic use. It peculiarly patterned the Weave in front of her, setting her on edge and causing her to pause to signal back to her companions to be cautious, and aware of enemies ahead. That they all understood the basics of the silent language was of great benefit.
By general consensus, Nathyrra had been the one to don their new Cloak of Mirroring since she volunteered to scout ahead and lead the way, though truth be told she would rather have let Valen had it - he was the one who could cause the most damage in the event of a confusion spell hitting him from one of an eye-stalk. There was still the mind-resistant circlet to consider as well, though Solaufein wore it with no objections from anyone, as no one had a desire to repeat the battle from the illithid cavern when he and Valen were under the mirror-delusion. If anyone could stop a confused-Valen, Nathyrra would bet it was Solaufein.
Nathyrra spied a few large rocks scattered on the ground that they nearly stumbled over. She stopped their group to examine their shape and identified them correctly as beholder defecation - nearly indistinguishable from rocks after a certain amount of time had passed. She signaled the foursome to approach closer and addressed everyone in her softest voice, still audible: "we are about to encounter stragglers. There will be one central horde of beholders guiding the Elder Orb furthest into the tunnels. We must kill them all as quickly as possible. They will fire all or many of their eye orbs at once when they see us, it is best to have cover, but if you cannot find cover, then shield yourself however you may. Their central orb is the most dangerous - an anti-magic field can be emitted from it that will protect them from most, if not all, spells."
"It won't protect them from my flail," Valen said grimly.
"Avoid their teeth if you can," she further cautioned, "they may attempt to eat you."
"What charming enemies we have," Binne commented.
"Their own other orbs will be useless while they are using the anti-magic eye - this can be our advantage," Nathyrra cautioned, "but it may also be our downfall, as it will render Solaufein, Binne, Deekin and I powerless."
"Got it, duck behind Valen to avoid the eye stalks, charge when you're de-powered," Binne surmised. Valen glared at her, and she appeared to consider him. "Hmm. Maybe we ought to give the cloak to Valen?"
"I have enough scrolls and spells to dispel any effects from the eye stalks that hit us, short of death," Nathyrra stated.
The cambion gulped. "Lovely."
"We are ready," Solaufein stated, nodding to Nathyrra once. She nodded back, stood up, and took her place at the front of the group one final time.
The first beholder they encountered seemed to be patrolling the tunnels - it clearly didn't expect to find them. Nathyrra inferred they'd encounter few others like this; after, a few b'ahlach might be sent to investigate at the silence of their fellows, but the large group that would be pathologically guarding the Elder Orb would be their most hard-fought battle yet. True to her prediction, the eye tyrant fired three of its eye-stalks at once, one bouncing off of Nathyrra's cloak, the other hitting Deekin to no effect, and the other briefly stunning Binne. Valen charged it immediately, Devil's Bane out angrily flailing and eyes flashing red. He struck the startled beholder right on the mouth, drawing a bloody, spurting gash. He winced as the beholder's foul breath washed over him.
Nathyrra cast a spell that slowed the beholder down to a crawl where it stood, even slowing down its eye-orb's attacks, causing them to project in slow motion. They were easily dodged. The slowed abomination was no match for Valen who struck again, and again, and again, until it fell to the ground finally spent and no longer able to levitate. Binne snapped out of her stupor the same time the beholder fell into unconsciousness, and Solaufein rushed forward to finish it off by piercing it through its central eye and into its brain.
"Beholder goop - and steeped with magic!" Enserric commented. "What a marvelous taste! I feel rejuvenated, if possible."
"We're so terribly happy for you, Enserric," Binne commented.
"How nice it is, to be appreciated properly for my prowess."
"I should have left you with the skeletons," Solaufein lamented.
"Then you wouldn't have my scintillating wit or charming edge to keep you happy and safe," Enserric pointed out. "Face it, I'm the best sword you've ever owned."
"You are certainly the loudest sword I have ever owned, even more talkative than Lilarcor," Solaufein grumbled.
Nathyrra signaled them into silence as her ears detected the sounds of skittering movement up ahead. She switched to infravision briefly, scarlet eyes scanning the dark, until she saw the barest hint of movement from a corridor that spiraled to the left. She clung to the edge of the wall, signaled them to wait, and quickly cast invisibility upon herself.
She followed the skittering noises down the corridor and came upon a small fleshy entrance to a room that looked as though it might have, at one point, been used for the purposes of cooking, though what the beholders ate was not something Nathyrra enjoyed contemplating. Hiding beneath a table with several dirty and nearly rusted cutting implements was a lone kobold, doing his best to be silent and inconspicuous, even though at the distance Nathyrra was at she could hear the small lizard-man fidgeting. Deciding, upon reflecting on Deekin, that violence was not the answer, Nathyrra padded back to her companions with her report.
"One kobold," she told them, "hiding in the next room."
"More enemies!" Enserric cheered. "Let's kill it!" He was ignored.
Deekin immediately perked up. "Kobolds be living in the Underdark? Hows? Whys? So many questions!"
"I am afraid you will not like the answer," Solaufein told him carefully.
Deekin nodded in understanding and his infinitely cheerful spirit seemed somewhat dimmed. "Ah. For eatings, then?"
"Most likely," Nathyrra nodded. "Beholders are known to keep certain races as slaves to suit their needs, to cook for them - or be cooked by them when the meat gets low. B'ahlach are carnivorous fiends."
Deekin scratched at the small frond of scales on the top of his head. It may have been Nathyrra's imagination, but it seemed to her that Deekin had grown in the last few days - or, at least between the time she had first met him and the time he had been gone on the islands with the others to investigate the golems and the avariel. "If there be kobolds ahead, Deekin can talk to them," he offered. "They may not have lots to say, though."
"I would prefer it if you spoke to them, than if we had to kill them for simply serving the b'ahlach," Solaufein said. "If they are slaves, I doubt they will carry much loyalty for their cruel masters."
"Seems we're freeing slaves everywhere we go, besides," Binne threw in. "Sort of our thing - liberating elves, golems, and people of all kinds!"
The frightened and hiding kobold, as it turned out, was named Attiz - and this was not learned without effort upon Deekin's part, when he discovered that Attiz had his tongue removed by the beholders, and while his ears were fully operational, Attiz could only scratch out a few words in the beholder language. Thankfully, both Nathyrra and Deekin spoke and read more than a smattering of the language, and between the two of them they were able to communicate to Attiz that they meant no harm and in fact had come to free him and his fellow kobolds, if only Attiz could give them directions around the caverns please.
Attiz did them one better and provided them with a map that he drew out in careful hand, and the numbers of their enemies. There were perhaps twelve beholders left of the entire clan - some had already left the clan to aid the Valsharess while the others remained behind to guard the Elder Orb for the time when they were summoned to invade Lith My'athar. Not that Attiz knew all of this, but Nathyrra knew how beholders operated, and was familiar enough with the Valsharess to guess at her plans. B'ahlach did not trust dhaerow by nature and genuine enmity; their forced alliance with the Valsharess, perhaps pressured by the arch-devil in her employ, would not have earned the beholders undying loyalty. She knew the bulk of their beholder enemies would be in those caverns, along with the Elder Orb, much like the illithid guarding their Elder Brain.
They were able to intercept and take on by surprise three more patrolling b'ahlach that quickly fell under their weapons - one of them dared to activate its anti-magic eye ray when it saw Nathyrra and Binne casting but was entirely unprepared for the sharpness of their sword and scythe, which sliced through their eye stalks like slugs. Nathyrra counted as each one fell, holding the total number of b'ahlach left in the cavern in her mind. They were all young seeming beholders, however, and she worried what might happen to them once they encountered the Elder eye tyrant.
They scuttled through the tunnels, inching their way from room to room, fleshy cavern to fleshy cavern, looting where they may and pocketing the goods in Deekin's bag of holding. The beholders kept many trophies from their kills, and as this clan had been there for some great time, there were quite a few many items strewn about their lair. They cleared the halls according to Attiz' map before finding the room that undoubtedly housed the Elder Orb.
Nathyrra had kept count, since Attiz revealed their enemy's numbers, of how many that had killed. By her calculation, only five b'ahlach remained including the Elder. Still, five was too many for them to face on their own without some sure advantage.
In a room with a strange pit at its center that seemed to lead into more darkness, they encountered two beholders that they took completely by surprise. Still, one of them was able to get off a shot from one of its eyes at Binne, who was instantly petrified in a flash of light and out for the count.
Nathyrra dodged under one of its rays and stabbed up at its soft flesh just as Solaufein came around to flank it and sliced off several of its eye-stalks with Enserric's. The beholder howled in pain and died under their assault while Enserric laughed in glee.
Valen and Deekin focused on the other one; the tiefling had flown into a rage when Binne was petrified and swung his flail mercilessly at the b'ahlach until it could move no more; Deekin's ice-bolts certainly helped immobilize it for Valen's flailing, causing Valen to shuck off icy chunks of the beholder's flesh, and altogether the battle did not last long.
It was morbidly silent after the battle was finished. Nathyrra counted three b'ahlach left in total - this had certainly improved their odds in the battle against the Elder tyrant. Solaufein went over to the statue of Binne, mid-swing with her scythe, and touched its shoulder fondly.
"We have several scrolls of Stone-to-Flesh," Nathyrra informed him. "Allow me," she offered, and started to rifle through her pack for her scroll case.
"No need," Solaufein answered. "Deekin," he called over. "Where is that paste from Undrentide?"
"Ooh! Deekin kept the rest nice and safe! Erm, uh-oh. It be at the bottom of Deekin's bag of holding."
Solaufein eyed Binne's petrified form with a mixture of wistful nostalgia and sadness. He turned back to Nathyrra. "We should save the scrolls for the final battle. I have something else that should work."
They took a break while Deekin took the better part of twenty minutes to unload everything from his pack, and he emerged with a small tin, full of a strange gray paste that he mixed around with a bit of water from his waterskin and started to slap on Binne's form. Once he was done, he went about the work of shoving everything back into his bag of holding, a little more haphazardly than before. While Deekin worked, Nathyrra took a rope out of their packs and tied its length around the most secure object in the room she could find and lowered the rest of the length into the dark hole in the center of the room.
It took Binne a few moments to return to flesh-colored, but when she did, she was certainly vocal about it. "AUGH!" Binne cried, throwing stealth out the window, "AURIL'S ICED TITTIES, THAT BLOODY HURTS!"
She stumbled forward, moving her legs again seemed to be a trial, and was dragged into a hug from Solaufein that she reached into reflexively. "I know," he told her quietly. "I was petrified for weeks once. Why these things always seem to happen to you is a curious correlation, but you served as an excellent distraction."
Binne moaned into his shoulder. "WHY-Y-Y-Y do the gods hate me?! What did I ever do except curse them all the time!" She lamented, somewhat half-heartedly. She pushed gently out of the hug and shook her head like a dog. Solaufein remained close at her side, and Nathyrra marveled at their close trust.
"Maybe they are petty," Valen answered her. "Are you alright?" He was either annoyed or concerned, it was difficult to tell.
Binne sniffled. "No. This is just like the magic collar all over again. I hate feeling useless." Solaufein patted her on the back consolingly.
When no one said anything, Nathyrra offered shyly, ". . . Valen killed the big one that petrified you, if that makes you feel any better."
"Really?" Binne was genuinely excited and looked over to the blushing tiefling who coughed politely.
"He did," Solaufein told her. "He completely destroyed the b'ahlach. Its brain is what you are currently standing in."
"Oh." She stepped delicately out of the iced chunks of squishy gray matter and scraped her boots against the ground. "Thanks Valen!" She said cheerily. "That does make me feel a little better. Are there any more left to kill? That'd make me feel a lot better."
"We're not sure," Valen said. "We were about to jump into this hole in the ground . . . And we're not sure what it leads to."
"Most likely more death awaits us," Solaufein said grimly.
Binne eyed the dhaerow male dubiously. "What's his problem?" She asked, directing this at Valen.
"He's been gloomy since the fight," Valen told her quietly, "I was hoping you would fix it."
Binne snorted. "Don't look at me, he's always been dramatic."
"Fuck you," Solaufein said lazily.
Deekin had finished loading his bag and left the cavern briefly to go and speak to Attiz. When he returned, he was triumphant. "Hey guys! We be heroes and save the kobolds! Well, almost. When we kill last beholders we be heroes. There be only a few left in main chamber. Deekin finish speaking to Attiz, and he leads the cave when we kill big tyrant. Not much can be done about missing tongues, but kobolds be tough and lay new eggs. We be fine."
Binne was horrified. "How big of an egg—"
Simultaneously, with more curiosity than horror, Solaufein asked, "—You were born in an egg?" Binne and Solaufein turned to look at each other and shared the experience of horrified interest.
"'Bout this big," Deekin answered and held his arms out. Binne, Solaufein, and Valen's eyes grew wide while Nathyrra remained nonplussed and watched the ensuing conversation.
"But how—" Binne spluttered. "How does it — how does that fit up — how do you —"
"By the Hells, woman, don't ask him!" Valen hissed. "He'll tell us!"
" . . . You never wonder how kobolds reproduce?" Deekin's tone said all it needed to by itself, regarding what he thought of their questions. "Wait, better question: how you thinks we reproduce right before now?"
Without missing a beat, Solaufein answered, "much like hook horror mating rituals, I preferred not to think about it."
Nathyrra, sensing an opportunity to educate them, seized upon it: "They are reptilian and lay eggs in small clutches of up to three eggs at a time. Hook horrors do as well, but in smaller clutches since their eggs are significantly larger, and usually lain near a water source. For kobolds, it can take many months before one hatches, and they grow very rapidly, having much shorter lifespans more close to that of a human's. That is why they guard their territories so fiercely, as their lifespans only produce a few fertile years and their eggs are precious. Is this not commonly known?"
Binne shrugged. "I always assumed they popped out of the ground like daisies. How does one go about fertilizing a kobold egg? Is it like a bird?"
"Kind of, because we sits on them!" Deekin said. "Uh, I think. Deekin not remember exactly how long you needs to sit for, it been a long time since he last lay an egg. Last one feel like it take really long time."
Simultaneously, Binne and Solaufein blurted out, "You have reproduced?"
Valen slapped his forehead. "Pike this." He climbed down the rope into the dark hole with surpassing agility and was little more than a shining green and red blur that disappeared into darkness.
Solaufein stared after the rapidly exiting tiefling appraisingly. "That is a good man, and a good General, who always knows when it is time to retreat." He followed Valen's example, just as swiftly.
"Oh. They're really going in there," Binne realized with a little fright. "Er, what's down there, Deekin?"
Deekin grinned manically. "DOoOoOoM! DOOM, DOOOOOM!" He chanted.
Binne scoffed. "Dammit, I've still got petrified brains here! Slow down, wait for me!" She, more sedately and at a much slower and unsure pace, scrambled down the rope into the hole. Deekin followed suit, and Nathyrra last, chuckling all the way at her companions' antics. She was grateful that they could find light-heartedness in such a desolate situation.
Down the hole was a dead magic zone that mystified them. There were several sword spiders that were easily dispatched in a melee, and Nathyrra decided to scout ahead. She discovered a sleeping, massive bebilith in its own cavern facing the other direction that she sneaked past, some specters that spoke in a language she had trouble identifying, and a strange obelisk with a runic puzzle on its surface to solve. After a few minutes she was able to figure it out and detached a tablet that she determined to be the source of the anti-magic effect and returned to the party with her valuable find.
Deekin was the one who offered a solution - he decided the anti-magical tablet was too useful to destroy and better if they simply take it along with them, hiding it and quite effectively confining its effects to his bag of holding. Nathyrra felt her spells return with stimulating relief.
"Now the real question," Binne spoke up, drawing their eyes. "What to do about the bebilith?"
"Leaves it alone because it's not dangerous if we ignores it?" Deekin squeaked hopefully.
Nathyrra thought about it. "It would be a harrowing battle, but the ability to harvest bebilith poison from its glands is too valuable for me to ignore. It might be able to hurt or even kill the arch-devil," she offered.
"And I could bind it by using its organs in a ritual, so I could use it as a summons," Binne perkily announced, too cheerful by half at the concept of playing with a bebilith's organs. The thought struck Nathyrra that Binne, in another life or body, might have done quite well as a dark elf.
"Where and why would you summon a bebilith?" Solaufein had to wonder.
"In the middle of the Valsharess' forces, to tear them apart and cause untold chaos," she answered with a grin.
"I vote we kill it," Valen said, looking stern with his hand wrapped around and clenching Devil's Bane's handle with white knuckles.
"Then it's settled," decided Solaufein.
They caught it unawares, giving them a slight advantage, but Nathyrra well knew that an unaware bebilith may kill you just as quickly as an aware one if you were not careful enough. It was nearly camouflaged into the surrounding rock, blending into the background in the visible spectrum but was easily detectable with its massive heat signature in Solaufein and Nathyrra's vision. The ground in its hole of a lair was coated in its thick webbing, slowing them due to the care they all required themselves to take to avoid stepping in it. Only Solaufein and Valen were unimpeded and could speed quickly across the webbing thanks to a spider-walking spell of Binne's she and Deekin managed to cast on the two warriors before they entered the cavern. Nathyrra cast a spell to silence the air around them, but she knew that bebiliths communicated telepathically and the demonic creature would be able to sense and smell them at a distance, meaning their first attack had to be swift and as brutal as possible.
Valen dove for its hind legs, hoping to cripple it with his flail while Solaufein ran underneath it and had aimed to use Enserric's point to pierce its shiny underbelly. They both struck it as one, maneuvering swiftly and fearlessly as a well-seasoned unit. Devil's Bane in Valen's hand did its duty well and tore one of the demonic arachnid's leg off at the thorax causing it to emit a powerful and piercing squeal from its pincers. Just as it began to shift around to turn around to face its attackers, it was pierced by Enserric's tip from underneath, causing it to scramble quickly back in pain up the walls of the cavern.
This would ordinarily have put Valen and Solaufein right in range of its venom and fangs, were it not for a whip of eldritch light that snaked out to grab its barbed foreleg and drag it forward into the path of Valen's flail. It angrily scrambled in an attempt to wrest away from Binne's spell-whip, psychically emitting signals of pain, alarm, and profound hatred for the tanar'ri-blooded tiefling it now had in sights of all eight of its eyes and the devil-blooded cambion that had briefly incapacitated it. It slammed its other barbed foreleg down toward Valen who narrowly dodged it, and swung out with his flail behind him, wounding its leg.
It did not see Solaufein who had quickly crawled underneath it and continued stabbing upward with his cackling, cursing, red-shining blade. Nor did it see the Deekin at a distance who was busily firing icy bolts at its carapace, slowing down its other legs as the bolts hit the bebilith's joints.
Nathyrra had started casting a spell as the attack began and finished it just as the bebilith's other foreleg freed itself from Binne's spell's grip. She knew from her time in Lloth's priesthood that a bebilith under threat in combat would attempt to plane shift, and her spell rooted its essence to the Prime plane by holding it in place. Its effects would wear off momentarily, but it was incapacitating enough to nearly be a death-sentence for the bebilith whom suddenly found one of its barbed forelegs decimated and torn right out of its joint by Valen's twin-headed flail.
Binne took the momentary lull in combat as an opportunity for a summons, and soon an Eryines was flapping over their heads shooting lightning at the bebilith. This had the unfortunate effect of unexpectedly startling the massive arachnoid out of its magical hold, and it scrambled up and away onto the ceiling with startling swiftness. A web made of demonic fire abruptly spun out of the back of its thorax and nearly caught Nathyrra in its hold were it not for Binne stepping in front of the smaller dark elven woman and blocking it with her body and scythe. It did catch the Eryines whom, while immune to the fire, was not immune to the webbing itself and went down, its wings catching in the web, and as she hit the ground she instinctively plane-shifted out of the fight and back to her home dimension.
Nathyrra smelled her own hair burning and was worried, momentarily, before she remembered she was standing behind a cambion who was in her element. A fierce grin lit up Binne's features as her scythe whirled in her hands, slicing away at the webbing around them, and she turned around to send a green-glowing eldritch spear of light up at the bebilith in retaliation that pierced it in one of its eyes. Nathyrra fell down to the ground and put out the flames that she knew had licked up her hair and threatened her neck, patting them out around her head.
This time it did plane-shift and there was nothing any one of them could do to stop it. It re-appeared behind Valen a few seconds later before anyone could even say a word, and its barbed leg snatched forward and gouged right through Valen's mithral armor, tearing it nearly completely in two. Valen fell back, momentarily stunned, but Solaufein was there at the ready to defend him and sliced cleanly through the remaining bebilith's foreleg just as an icy bolt from Deekin thudded into one of the demonic spider's eyes and another spear of light pierced it through the side.
It howled in pain and attempted to bite at Solaufein in front of it with its massive fangs, but thanks in large part to Solaufein's boots, he simply wasn't there for the bebilith to attack. Valen's flail was then tearing into the bebilith's head, and with one powerful blow from the tiefling, it skittered to the side with a squeal and remained motionless. Valen continued tearing into its thorax with his flail well after that, until he was certain it was dead, and Nathyrra called out to him.
"Valen," she called across the cavern. The tiefling finally turned away from the arachnoid corpse and looked to her. If they hadn't been so lucky, and planned half as well as they had, it would not have only been his armor that would have been sacrificed. There was a massive tear in the front of his breastplate, but it was nothing that could not be repaired by Rizolvir upon their return. They were all winded, but victorious, and Binne was the first of them to let out a loud chuckle at their predicament.
"We sure know how to pick our fights, eh?" She laughed. "Ah, well. Is everyone all right? Master bard?"
"Deekin doing good, he mostly keep his distance," the kobold reported, popping into visibility at the cambion's side. He walked over to Nathyrra, who had fallen back on her rear end away from the thick webbing still coating the ground. "Drow lady not looking so good," he stated, and rifled through his pockets for a few moments before pulling out a compact vanity mirror.
"Why do you have a mirror?" Binne wondered, puzzled.
"To clean Deekin's teeth," the kobold explained. He offered the mirror to Nathyrra, who took it in gratitude.
A few moments later, Solaufein was hacking off the rest of Nathyrra's hair below her chin with a dagger he kept in his boot. Binne complimented it; long hair was the pride of her people, or so Nathyrra had always believed. It felt strangely freeing to her to have it all chopped off after that moment. She played with the ends curiously and felt satisfied with her reflection in an unexpected way.
"We should harvest it before it dissolves," she suggested.
It took work, and a lot of cutting through the exoskeleton with Enserric's enhanced edge, but Nathyrra managed to harvest quite a few drops of poison from its glands into an empty phial. It was an arduous task as a bebilith's poison quickly became useless after interacting with open air for long enough, but between Nathyrra and Deekin they were able to figure out a trick to void the air in a vial and seal the poison neatly, retaining its deadliness. Binne played with its organs, strangely and morbidly, until she explained that her task was to use its innards to conduct a binding ritual.
"Mata, my Eryines friend, helps me out because I treat her well enough and only summon her for fights that are too tough for me on my own," Binne explained to the curious Nathyrra and Deekin as she pulled out a weird green pus-bag from the bebilith's body and placed it by her booted feet. Her clawed hands dripped menacingly with black blood. "I'll probably owe her a few drinks after this debacle," she added as she yanked out a long, tubular organ that was a vivid purple. She stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I think I'll name it Barbara!"
"You're going to name it?" Valen was appalled.
"Well, I need a name to bind it, and it's not as if bebiliths name themselves. Or do they?" She wondered. She stared at Valen, who seemed speechless with either horror or outrage. "Well you would know better than I about that."
"What happens if it not likes the name?" Deekin wondered.
Binne shrugged. "I doubt it's intelligent enough to care. Someone who wouldn't want to answer the call wouldn't pick up the summons. I'm not interested in tying my soul even further to the Hells, and I don't need more enemies. I've kept dangerous pets before, even spiders as a child. I expect this won't be too different - just much larger and much more horrifying."
"You're an extremely odd person," Valen decided huffily, and fingered his torn breastplate. He eventually took it off and let Deekin pack it in his bag of holding, though he looked a little mournful as he did so, and it was strange for Nathyrra to see him out of his customary armor. He wore only an armor grease-stained white tunic underneath and seemed naked to her without his standard protection that he'd had for so long. They had sold their spare armor back in Lith My'athar before their adventure to the eye tyrant chasm, but Valen seemed generally unbothered about his unarmored state. It did not detract from his deadliness in any way, and even had the added bonus of unencumbering him for the upcoming final b'ahlach fight which he chose to see as an advantage.
The binding ritual was gruesome but only took a few moments; Binne was an unconventional but practiced summoner. She would not be able to control the bebilith's actions in any way, but she could summon it at will and release it into a crowd of enemies fairly effectively. Nathyrra thought well of this tactic even though she shuddered to think of the damage the massive demonic spider might cause to their own forces, should it get out of control. Once finished, she washed her hands and arms (which were covered in bebilith gore) with water from her canteen, and they all decided to continue on back up to the top of the cavern to confront the last of the beholders.
Nathyrra and Solaufein were the last to climb up and peered together out into the darkness of the empty cavern in mutual silence. They could hear the scuttling noises of more giant spiders in the distance, but none of the massive arachnids they saw moving about in the distance with their red eyes dared approach the formidable group. In fact, the spiders seemed content to keep their distance, probably more than content now that the territorial bebilith was gone and was of no threat to them.
After the fight with the bebilith, they were largely unworried about taking on the elder tyrant. Deekin simply took out the anti-magic tablet and the four of them engaged in a brief and bloody melee that the three remaining b'ahlach were completely unprepared for. Nathyrra had to wonder at the logic of the beholders, keeping such an artifact in their veritable basement, but chose not to question their good fortune and focused on dodging the b'ahlach's teeth. Her shining short sword gave her the same speed as Solaufein's boots and cut into them with almost as much ease as Enserric but was not half as effective as Binne's war-scythe or Valen's flail which tore apart the elder tyrant in mere moments.
After only a few short minutes, the group was standing in the remains of the last three beholders of the clan, spattered with discolored blood and gray brain matter. They reported back to Attiz, who literally jumped for joy and expressed his delight in his floor-scratching about how not only were the kobolds free of the beholder menace, but they had enough food for many months thanks to all the b'ahlach remains. Binne and Valen cringed at this, but Nathyrra knew that kobolds were opportunistic carnivores and would likely flourish in the cavern with the absence of the eye tyrants. Deekin was pleased with their results.
On their way out of the cavern, one of the massive spiders from the hole had followed them up and out, although it kept its distance from the party. Occasionally Nathyrra or Solaufein would turn around at the sound of its legs skittering after them, and spy it - and it would hold still, frightened, and motionless, waiting for them to react. It displayed no aggression, only curiosity.
"We have a guest," Solaufein eventually announced to the others, whose eyes couldn't penetrate the darkness with as much ease as his and Nathyrra's. "An orbb has taken to us, it seems."
"A what? Oh, I know that one. A spider?" Binne corrected herself. She squinted into the darkness of the dim, fleshy tunnel. "Why? Should we kill it?"
"It knows better than to attack us," Nathyrra interpreted, noting the spider had frozen at the mention of its presence. Its pedipalps twitched in fear. "Though I am curious as to its presence."
Solaufein stepped toward it, curious himself, but it scuttled backward. He spied a nearby b'ahlach carcass they had torn apart on their way in, picked up a piece of flesh in his gloved hand, and continued approaching the curious giant spider. Eventually he tossed the piece of flesh to it to see if it would bite, and it did, investigating the remains first with its forelegs and eventually picking it up in its fangs and chewing on the flesh.
They continued like this all the way out of the cavern, with their new spider follower feeding on the remains of their fallen enemies from Solaufein's hand. Eventually, when they made it to the entrance gate with the lightning puzzle, the spider gained enough courage to approach them a great deal closer, sensing that they meant it no harm.
It did a strange dance in the loose dirt of the cavern floor that Nathyrra could not interpret, until she looked down, in shock. The giant spider had used its legs to etch out a word in the dhaerow language on the ground, which meant 'Last-Scorn,' incomprehensibly.
"So it knows how to write? It's an intelligent spider?" Binne seemed oddly excited. "Looks like we have a new pet!" She cheered. She looked to Solaufein. "What should we name it?"
They tossed name suggestions back and forth like they were picking out names for their own future child. The spider chittered at this and continued attempting to scratch out new letters on the cavern floor. Nathyrra determined to cast a comprehend-languages spell that she had memorized, which took but a moment, to see if it would work on the spider's chitinous chittering. Alas it did not, though it continued to scratch out letters in the dirt that she was able to read. It etched out the words for 'Valsharess' and 'prisoner,' which is when a story began to form in Nathyrra's mind that filled her with grim determination.
"I believe this was once a dhaerow prisoner, perhaps of the Valsharess," she answered, standing back up from where she had bent over to examine the letters in the dirt. The spider's chelicera twitched, seemingly in confirmation.
"What makes you think that?" Valen wondered.
"How else would it know our people's language?" She shot back. "It is not unthinkable to imagine that she offered her own people in exchange for the beholders' aid. Our flesh is considered a b'ahlach delicacy."
"Is there nothing those monsters don't eat?" Binne shuddered. "Why is it a spider now, then? Why would the beholders transmute their food into spiders?"
Nathyrra shook her head. "That, I do not know. Perhaps to punish them for rebellion? Or to guard their valuables? But I suggest we rest here for a few hours while I memorize a polymorph-other spell, to see what this poor creature would desire of us."
Solaufein continued feeding bits of beholder flesh and random insects he found around the cavern while Nathyrra waited. Only Binne and Deekin seemed disappointed at the prospect of them no longer having a giant spider as a pet. For Nathyrra's part, she focused on the memorization and meditated, though the words for 'Last Scorn' continued flashing through her mind somewhat insistently, as if she were forgetting something important that she could not easily recall.
When she was finally able to cast the spell a few hours later, the Weave coalesced around the spider's form and flashed in the visible spectrum of light a bright blue, before reforming the spider's body into that of a slender male dark elf, who seemed to Nathyrra's eyes barely more than the age of a child. In a brilliant moment of recollection, Nathyrra realized that she knew this male.
"Vaendrith?" She uttered. Last-Scorn, his name had meant. He was the last born, the least of their family, or so her matron had named him in afterthought.
The poor naked male shuddered and gasped through his newly remade lungs. Binne and Deekin stepped forward to help him stand up on shaking legs, Deekin offering a blanket from their camping supplies that the young male took readily and gratefully. He stuttered out a few words of thanks in butchered Common, before turning his red gaze fearfully upon Nathyrra.
"Nathyrra," he spoke her name like a prayer. "Usstan neitar ssiggrin ulu kyorl dos 'sohna." Against his will, tears began to form in her littlest brother's eyes that spilled out and scattered down his face to the ground.
Her mind recalled the last time she had seen him, chained, eyes downcast with the other chattel of the Valsharess as a consequence of Nathyrra's direct actions, turning upon her own house to join the ranks of the Valsharess' Red Sisters. She felt her past had come to haunt her and recalled the conversation she'd had with the Seer before they had left. Was this punishment from Eilistraee? Or a reward? "I have fallen from the favor of your matron," she said to Vaendrith in their mother tongue. "She now desires my death."
"I know," said Vaendrith, still crying. He sniffled. "I had hoped . . . That you had joined her enemies."
"You know this wretched one?" Solaufein seemed surprised.
Nathyrra nodded and stepped toward Vaendrith tentatively. He did not flinch this time. "He was . . . He is my youngest brother," she explained in Common for everyone's benefit. "A young sorcerer who surrendered to the Valsharess when she conquered my house. She took him prisoner, and fed him to the b'ahlach, it seems."
"I had never thought to see you again," he cried out in Ilythiiri, in a voice that rasped from disuse, and overwhelmed by his own emotions he fell down to his knees. Binne knelt down to the young dhaerow's level and kept her hand on his shoulder, looking torn between comforting him and finding him a pair of pants. Deekin patted his knee, attempting to be of some comfort. Vaendrith, for his part, seemed puzzled by them and their kindness.
Nathyrra had never seen a male cry before, except under torture. She did not know what to do with this display of weakness, but Binne and Deekin seemed well-equipped to handle it. Still, she knew that she herself had needed the comfort of touch once when she had cried in the Seer's presence, even as she had been inwardly ashamed of her own display of emotion. She could imagine what Vaendrith was going through; though she had once known him to be a weak and cowardly male, she no longer believed the path of her people lay in the ways of Lloth. She no longer believed that tears were a weakness. Emotions could led you to strength greater than any of Lloth's cruel teachings. She saw the bonds between her abbin and the strength it gave them to carry on through the grimness of their task and felt empowered.
She approached him, and knelt down to his level, and took his hands. Her own heartbeat in her ear drums as her instincts warred with her reason, telling her to punish this male for his open display of weakness. "I owe you my life," he finally articulated out when he was at last able to meet her eyes. He seemed startled by their closeness and clenched her hands frightfully.
"Will you come with me, to the safety of my people?" She asked of him in their mother tongue.
Vaendrith looked down and away, then back up in confusion. Binne rubbing circles into his back seemed to have had the effect of calming his steady flow of tears. He let go of one of Nathyrra's hands to wipe at his eyes, and then gripped Nathyrra's fingers once more tightly in his own. "Are we not your people any longer?" He queried.
Nathyrra, uncertainly, shook her head. "I follow the light of Eilistraee and have seen the error of our people's ways. Lloth is silent and is undeserving of our regard. Come with me, little brother," she pled, and leaned forward - slowly as not to alarm him - to embrace him in her arms for the first time. She felt uncertain for all of a moment, until she felt his warmth against her breast. She had been the youngest of the females of her house, and it was her duty to teach the youngest and lowliest of the males - Vaendrith, last-scorn - to read and write at whip point, and she suspected he still recalled this experience most vividly. He had known nothing but cruelty, pain, and betrayal at her hands until that moment, but nonetheless he leaned into the embrace and wrapped his arms around her leathered form and sobbed in relief, like he never had before.
They were able to give some of Solaufein's plain black clothes to Vaendrith so he was more comfortable, although he was physically smaller than Solaufein and did not quite fit in his spare boots. Solaufein was happy enough to part with them it seemed, and they all readily accepted Vaendrith with no cajoling needed upon Nathyrra's part. Whether it was out of pity or compassion, she was grateful for their acceptance. It was better than being barefoot, or a spider, Solaufein reasoned. While most of Nathyrra's people believe that Lloth is merely silent and not dead and fear her retribution if they should stray from her worship, Vaendrith seemed to be an eager convert and agreed to meet with the Seer with Nathyrra upon their return to Lith My'athar. He spent most of their journey in shocked disbelief over their circumstances and was few of words, following Nathyrra like a puppy at her heels until they met the gates of the dhaerow city many hours later. It took them nearly half a day through the darkness of the caverns, but they encountered no enemies which sped their journey along significantly, and when they stopped to rest, Vaendrith tried to eat their food only vomit up the entire contents of his stomach, still full of insects and beholder meat. He seemed disgusted with himself and refused to accept their aid, choosing to brood in silence some distance away while the rest of them took their meal. Nathyrra did not know how to comfort him, or what he truly wanted from them. Not their pity, apparently. The young male seemed sincere in his curiosity toward Eilistraee, at least.
Once in Lith My'athar, Vaendrith flinched away from the gazes of their people in the streets, and spoke only to Nathyrra or Solaufein with few, curt words in Ilythiiri. Nathyrra knew it would take time for Vaendrith to open up as she had to the Seer and heal from the wounds on his soul that she had helped to inflict. She was infinitely grateful for Eilistraee's mercy, and credited the goddess with their meeting, believing it to be fated. Just as her path had led her to Solaufein and his abbin, so had Nathyrra's path led her to Vaendrith. Part of her wondered at the other spiders in the beholder cavern - if they were all once dark elves and had simply lost their minds. Vaendrith's transformation seemed to have been recent, as he still retained his sanity despite his form; she shuddered to think of the countless others that were lost through her direct actions. Was the entirety of her house, save herself and Vaendrith, destroyed?
She led Vaendrith to the Seer's quarters, even though he trembled to set foot in the bleak looking spidery temple. Still, with Nathyrra at his side, he swallowed his fear and entered the chamber of the smiling blue-eyed matron, who addressed him by name upon sight and greeted him with open hands. Nathyrra was not surprised by the Seer's foresight. Mentally, Nathyrra revisited her own conversion with the Seer, and for the first time since she was a child Nathyrra felt a creeping sense of fear - fear at losing the home she had gained with the Eilistraeens and the Seer - fear of loss - fear of death for Vaendrith, the Eilistraeens, and her new abbin that had fought so bravely at her side throughout their journey. She left Vaendrith in the Seer's care after he seemed to be at ease in the woman's presence and promised she would be there for him when he emerged. Privately, she felt the need to avoid the Seer's piercing gaze so she could sort out her own thoughts.
Disturbed by her fears and unable to voice them, she left Vaendrith in the Seer's capable hands and nearly bumped into Valen who approached in the halls outside Malla Seer's quarters. He had returned after dropping his armor off at Rizolvir's forge, and still seemed amusingly naked to her without his standard mithral plate.
"You look . . . Different," the tiefling said, brows furrowing in puzzlement at her state. "Is something wrong?"
Nathyrra supposed her troubled expression must have given her emotions away. "I think I am . . . Afraid," she tried to explain.
Valen scoffed. "You?"
"Yes. I am afraid of losing to the Valsharess," she revealed.
"That seems like a normal fear to have," he reasoned.
She rolled her eyes at him. "To someone who is not dhaerow, perhaps."
He rolled his eyes right back at her. "And surely someone who isn't a drow couldn't possibly understand what you're going through."
She realized that she may have offended him and prepared an apology. "I apologize, I did not intend offense. I-it's unusual for me to experience. I know that I could die at any moment. I have always known this but have never feared it until today. I have much more to lose in my life than I did before."
The tiefling's bright blue eyes dilated in understanding. "You mean the Seer."
"I'm afraid of what will happen to her. We have to protect her, Valen," she insisted. Her quick mind was already concocting panicked worse-case scenarios, and it was all she could do to avoid voicing them.
"She would say that she can protect herself," said Valen.
"She says this because she can - and she has. But we are without the benefit of her experience. She is a powerful matron, but even she cannot predict everything. And without her, the world would most certainly be . . . less. These people would diminish without her clarity to inspire them. I would diminish. I have only just now truly understood what she means to me. I have thought not of myself since I was sent to find Solaufein. I have not wondered what would become of me without her." As she spoke, she reasoned out her own feelings on the matter. It was the truth - she had not wondered what would become of her in the Seer's absence, but upon rescuing Vaendrith, the rumination was inevitable. She saw herself in her little brother and could do nothing to avoid the thought.
Valen clapped her on the pauldron firmly and fixed her with a certain gaze. "We will protect her, Nathyrra. And we will win."
"You did not sound confident of our victory when last we spoke. What has changed?" She wondered.
Valen shrugged and looked away, seeming pensive. "We survived the bebilith, the beholders, the illithid, and the machinations of more than one mad wizard. I think we can handle the Valsharess. Maybe even her arch-devil," he added dubiously.
". . . Do you think we will survive it?" She dared to ask.
"No," Valen quickly answered, "but we stand a good chance at beating them even if we die. And failing that, Deekin can always kill them with his song," he added wryly.
Nathyrra chuckled unexpectedly, a free and open laugh that Valen shared, and she realized after he left her there in the halls and Vaendrith emerged with a shy smile directed at her that more than anything else, she had hope.
"I have never seen you smile before," Vaendrith said, with a strange expression on his face. It was somewhere between confusion and alarm.
"Before, I had never had a cause to," she replied. "Now, I have hope."
"Hope?" He sounded unfamiliar with the word, tasting it on his tongue.
She reached out to him tentatively, and he carefully put his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Come," she beckoned. "There is so much for you to see. So much you do not yet know that we are capable of. I will show you everything."
He looked behind him to the smiling Seer, who nodded. Vaendrith seemed to have inherently accepted her as his matron during their brief conference, and he returned Nathyrra's gaze with a gentle, tentative nod. "Show me," he requested. Nathyrra gently led him out of the temple and into the heart of the city, where their true family awaited.
Drow-to-Common Dictionary:
B'ahlach . . . Beholders, or specifically eye tyrants, which are used interchangeably in this story but are in fact different.
Nindol orn tlu . . . This smells like disaster in the making.
Ol zhah calestio . . . It's nice to finally have someone around who gets it.
Zha'la usstan . . .Um, is anyone gonna object if I just walk up and solve this?
Nau, kyorl . . . No, wait, please let her fuck up more, it'll be funnier for me.
Jivvin whol dos . . . Funny for you isn't funny for me - seriously it'll take just a sec.
Ori'gato naut udossa . . . Don't be hasty, stop and smell the fungus once in a while.
Dos phuul natha . . . You're fuckin weird, Solaufein.
Alur b'vecko taga . . . Better weird than being bored or worse, boring.
Usstan neitar . . . Bitch, where you been?