Author's Note: Just minor changes from original chapter.

4...The Fight for the Well

"Nine wicked hells," Durnan swore, as the three ran down Rainrun Street. "That racket's coming from my inn!" When he flung open the doors, the common room was empty. Or so it seemed until a head peeked around the corner of the bar.

"What happened, Luranla?" Durnan asked.

"They're coming through the well," the woman said. She crouched behind the bar and flinched at a loud war cry that echoed up the stairwell to the right. "Drow and them gray dwarves. Mhaere and the guests are holding them off."

"How are they getting up the well? How did they get past the wards? Damn it!" He ran behind the bar and pulled down a sheathed greatsword that was mounted on the wall. He flung the sheath and his sword cane onto the counter. Solaufein and Haer'Dalis dropped their packs and cloaks.

"A drow?" Luranla gasped when she saw Solaufein's face. They ignored her.

"Come on," Durnan said. "The well's downstairs."

Why this vast pit, some forty feet in diameter, was called a well Solaufein had no idea. The wells he'd seen on the surface looked very different. On one side of the pit was a crane. A huge globe of darkness hung over the far edge of the pit. That's where they're coming up. From his vantage on the steps, the pit looked endlessly deep.

While Solaufein paused to scan the unfamiliar room, Durnan charged down the stairs. Someone had smashed the lamps to cloak the room in darkness but a strong white magical light shone from the hands of Durnan's wife, the paladin. A score of duergar engaged an uncoordinated group of adventurers. A few defenders wore armor but most looked like they'd come from their beds. Several had fallen; more were injured but still fighting. A red-haired lass in a yellow nightgown sang a battle tune in a penetrating voice.

Shielded by the duergar were a half dozen drow. Two of the males were spellcasters. And there was a priestess. The barbed heads of the priestess' flail dripped blood. He heard Haer'Dalis beside him chant a protection spell. We are outnumbered, Solaufein thought. This does not look good.

"He is here!" the priestess shouted in the drow tongue. "The old human male! Slay him quickly." She pointed at Durnan. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Solaufein. "Who are you? This is my kill, male."

"Watch out, Durnan!" Solaufein shouted in Common. "They're here for you."

The two mages in the back of the room swiveled to face them. One mage raised his hands. Lightning blasted across the room. Durnan dropped to the floor but Solaufein didn't know if he'd dodged or been hit. The other mage started his chant. A fireball here would be a disaster. I'll never cut through in time.

"Awaken, blade!" From the hilt of his scimitar, a chill ran up his arm. A shimmering white phantasm, the ghost of the Spectral Brand, separated itself from his blade. With a thought, he aimed the dancing blade at the furthest mage. The sword ghost shot across the room. Solaufein followed. Running, he leapt on top of the only trestle table still standing and used it to launch himself over the heads of the squat duergar. He hit the nearest mage feet first and knocked him to the floor. Solaufein sprang up before the mage could recover his breath and kicked him hard in the temple. Pain roared through his foot. To kick mages to death, I need heavier boots.

He leapt forward to attack the other mage, who was attempting to fend off the ghost blade with his staff. He gave the mage a sharp chop with his hilt, not wanting to dull his edge on his stoneskin. The force of the blow sent a jolt up his arm. The mage staggered back.

Solaufein pressed him hard with a leg sweep that the mage evaded. Before he could slash again, something hit him hard across the neck and shoulder blades. He whirled.

The priestess' flail was already in motion for a second stroke. He jumped back and bumped into the mage. Instinct had him jerk his head to the side. His free hand grabbed the mage's sleeve and yanked him forward as a shield. One head of the flail passed over his head so close that a barb ripped out a hank of his hair. Another of the viciously spiked balls hit the mage's face and cracked through his protections. Blood flew.

The priestess snarled and pressed forward. Now would be a good time for a real shield. Even a cloak would be helpful to tangle her weapon but he'd left it upstairs. Solaufein took two steps back, stepped on something soft-the dead mage's leg-and turned his stumble into a lunge at the woman's arm. He didn't do much damage but he threw her off her rhythm. She recovered quickly. She was good.

"Who are you?" she asked. "One of the rebels?" He didn't answer. Her upper lip pulled back. "Eilistraeen scum," she hissed. "Worthless male." She raised her arm.

Solaufein felt his own lip curl back. The ache in his back, the screams of the wounded, the smell of blood and fear-they swirled through him like the taste of black lotus to an addict. Rage. His eyes flared red. Die, black-hearted bitch. I have had enough of your kind.

He fought. In a haze of blood and darkness, he fought.

Time moved in jerks and stops, as it did when the battle rage took him. He had a vague awareness that Haer'Dalis, with cool precision, scythed through the duergar behind him. He fought. He fought until no one stood against him. When the priestess bled from several serious wounds, she cursed and shouted for her remaining fighters to retreat.

From somewhere behind him, Solaufein heard the aged paladin call upon Tyr's name. The globe of darkness at the back of the room dissipated to expose a large floating disk made of pale stone. Three of the duergar leapt upon it. The paladin shouted again and dispelled the magic that held the disk. The duergar screamed as it hurtled to the ground far below. The priestess ran to the pit. She glared at Solaufein.

"Your dying screams will be sweet to hear," she said. "I will hear them soon." She stepped over the edge of the pit just as the stone and its riders hit with a thunderous crash. Solaufein and Haer'Dalis ran forward and leaned over to see her float down into the darkness of the well. Haer'Dalis grabbed his arm as he swayed at the edge.

"Be careful, my raven. Yon pit is deep. Should you fall, you'd have time to regret all the mistakes of your life."

Solaufein took a breath. It's over. For now. "I doubt it is deep enough for that," he said at last.

Haer'Dalis chuckled. "Or perhaps you can go after her? In Ust Natha you could travel on the air as she does."

"No longer," Solaufein said. He'd once had the power to levitate but his years on the surface had drained away the magic he'd absorbed from the faerzress, the natural radiation of the Underdark.

The remaining two duergar refused to surrender and were cut down by the other adventurers. Solaufein felt the stares of the defenders as he followed Haer'Dalis. They found Durnan prone on the floor with an elf in a plain blue shift on her knees beside him. There was blood on her hands and matted in her hair. The paladin ran to them.

"He lives, Mhaere," the elf said. "He was stunned by the drow's magic. I do not believe he is badly hurt."

"You've been hurt yourself, Linu."

The elf looked at her with vague eyes. "Oh. Is it so?"

Mhaere beckoned to one of the human servants. "Rouse the stablemen if they aren't already up," she said. "Ride to the temple and fetch the Sunite cleric. White Thesta, she is called."

"I can heal him," the elf protested.

"Yes, but others have been hurt as well. Thesta has been promised to us to help during the assault on Undermountain. She might as well get an early start. Given what has just happened, we may all need to work quicker than we thought." She turned back to her hireling. "Give Thesta an escort here and then go to the Watch Commander. Tell him what happened. See if he can spare some Watchmen to help us secure the well, lest these attackers return. Even a few guards would be a blessing."

"Aye, mistress," the man said.

"Have one of the boys bring a couple of lanterns. The cursed drow wish to keep us in darkness, it seems." She looked up and spotted Haer'Dalis. "Trust a tiefling to show up when there's trouble," she said but without heat. Her eyes moved to Solaufein.

The bard gave a small bow. "We came with Durnan."

"So I gather. Had you come just a bit later and kept him from harm, I would have been better pleased. Although you did much to drive back the invaders, for which I thank you." She sighed. Her eyes looked very tired. "A tiefling and a dark elf. Why were you with my husband?"

Since her gaze was still on him, Solaufein answered. "Durnan said I was to submit myself to your judgment. I am here to help."

"Aye, sounds like him, to drop a problem in my lap. She closed her eyes and her lips moved. "Very well, elf, I sense no evil intent about you. Nor about you, demon-spawn," she added, turning her head towards Haer'Dalis. "You may stay. And you may help. You already have."

Linu finished her healing chant with a satisfied look. She touched the back of the innkeeper's hand. "Why would they wish to attack Durnan?"

"Other prominent citizens have been assassinated," Mhaere said. "They must know of his role in coordinating the counterattack. Or perhaps-" She stopped and frowned.

"They know much of what happens in the city," said the red-haired singer. Bard, surely she was a bard, Solaufein thought. Blood splattered the shoulder of her nightgown.

Durnan opened his eyes and with a grunt, sat up. "They know too much," he said. He caught his wife's eye. The depth of the look that passed between them made Solaufein avert his gaze. He'd often found the free way that surfacers showed their emotions both reckless and bizarre. "They strike with clear purpose," Durnan continued. "The drow attacked both the bard college and Eltorchul Academy tonight. They knew exactly what they were looking for. They seek both individuals to slay and artifacts to steal and they go directly for them."

"How? A spell of divination?" Linu asked.

"Possibly so."

Haer'Dalis shook his head. "Divination spells work none too well from the Underdark."

"And it is worse in Undermountain," Durnan said. "Halaster's magic seeps through the whole area. The spells of others go awry in his hold."

"A spy then," Mhaere said flatly. "Here, in the city." Several sets of eyes swiveled to Solaufein.

"Or Halaster is aiding these drow," Haer'Dalis said.

"If he was, things would go hard for us," Durnan said. "Halaster makes a powerful enemy. But I find that unlikely. He hates drow. To work with them against the city-no. I don't see it."

"Perhaps in his madness," Mhaere began.

"He's mad, aye, but Halaster never forgets a grudge," Durnan said.

"He's aiding them, either directly or indirectly," Mhaere said with an air of continuing an ongoing argument. "Never before have drow forces passed so freely through Undermountain. Never before have his monsters wandered loose into the city."

Durnan shrugged. "I'm not saying you're wrong, Mhaere. I don't know. We must find him and ask him. Then we will know."


"I won't be going with you," Durnan said to the crowded room of adventurers the next morning, although no one (except possibly himself) expected such a thing. "Some call Undermountain the world's greatest mass grave of adventurers. It is a dangerous place and no mistake. Do not venture too far! Our goal is to verify the maps I have given each group of you and to search for signs of the drow."

Solaufein glared when the kobold beside him almost trod upon his boot. The kobold, still nervous from their earlier encounter, skittered away. At breakfast, Solaufein had seen a movement in the shadows. He whirled out of his seat, caught the kobold and slammed him against the wall. The kobold's terrified shriek rose in pitch when the fighter drew his dagger.

"Hey!" The waitress ran over. "There's no fighting allowed amongst the guests."

"Are you saying this creature is a guest in this inn?" Solaufein asked.

The kobold kicked his feet and, with Solaufein's shift of attention, managed to squirm out of his hold. "Deekin being guest here," the kobold squeaked. "Being here longer than you!"

"But kobolds are vermin." The waitress flinched away from the glare in Solaufein's red eyes.

"He's an adventurer. Some of the others vouch for him."

"Is that so? Then why is he lurking and spying from the shadows?"

"Deekin no spy," the kobold said indignantly. "Strong light bad on Deekin's eyes. Deekin's a writer. Has to be able to see." He took a couple of prudent steps back and scowled. "Deekin don't like being pushed around for no reason. Maybe you be spy, black elf."

Beside him, Haer'Dalis laughed. "He has a point, my raven. Do we not find you in the shadows more often than not?"

Solaufein had pointedly returned to his breakfast.

He was less than pleased when Haer'Dalis invited the little kobold to travel with them. "He's been picking Durnan's brains about Undermountain for the last ten-day," he explained. "Copied his maps, listened to his tales. He has a journal full of notes. And he's an experienced adventurer. He's the one who wrote that Undrentide book, did you know?"

"What book?" Solaufein asked.

"Deekin is famous," the kobold said.

"Don't they read in Suldanesselar?" Haer'Dalis asked. "The book was quite popular in Athkatla. Fancy, he actually walked the streets of the last of the great flying Netherese cities."

"Scary when it rose out of the sand," Deekin said. "Scarier when it fell back down. Somehow Deekin not get squashed."

"You'd better watch yourself or you will get squashed here in Waterdeep," Solaufein muttered. "Must we take this stinking little rat along?"

"I'm sure he will be useful," Haer'Dalis said.

"Deekin not stink! Drow not have good nose." And in a voice he perhaps thought inaudible, he added, "Drow not smell like roses, oh no. Drow not find bathhouse last night." At Solaufein's growl, he scuttled further behind the laughing Haer'Dalis. "But Deekin is polite. Deekin will put in new book: drow smell like beautiful flower."

"Poetic license, of course." Haer'Dalis snickered.

"Poetic lies," Deekin said. "No one wants to read about a dirty smelly rude elf."

Haer'Dalis raised his brows. "So what kind of lies did you tell about the Undrentide hero?"

"No lies. Just a bit of poetics here and there. Easy to find rhyme for brave or mighty. Hard to find rhyme for diarrhea from bad food. Leave that part out."

"I know the problem well," Haer'Dalis said. "Whatever happened to this great hero of yours? Can we expect him to join us?"

"Don't know. Maybe invitation lost in mail. Same like my royalty money."

A squad of city watchmen had arrived very early but they would guard the well room, not descend into Undermountain. A couple of dwarven engineers had worked through the night to repair the hoist mechanism, damaged during the attack. Durnan, the cleric White Thesta and the engineers went down into the pit first, to inspect the wards that should have given warning of the intruders and to check for traps or other surprises.

"And they can test the hoist for us, too," chuckled a halfling Solaufein hadn't met. "I'm too young to go splat like those duergar last night."

Durnan assigned each group a different direction to search. He asked the three of them to explore the southern caverns. Solaufein and Deekin could see in total darkness; with a spell, Haer'Dalis could as well. Since most of the denizens of Undermountain could also see in darkness or could sense them by other means, this did not afford much in the way of safety but it did allow them to move without the beacon of torches or magical lights.

Undermountain was a concatenation of natural caves tied together by tunnels. There were chambers that had clearly been crafted. "These were mines, once, before Halaster came," Deekin whispered.

"I've never heard tell of a mine so large," Haer'Dalis said.

"Very big. Very old. Halaster changed things. Summoned monsters of all types and set them to work digging and tunneling. Those orcs we passed a while back, they was guarding one of Halaster's feeding boxes. Durnan has the boxes marked on the map."

"If Halaster keeps the monsters fed, why were the orcs roasting harpies on their cook fires?" Solaufein asked.

Deekin frowned. "They not supposed to do that. Not supposed to fight each other."

"Halaster's lost control of them," Haer'Dalis said.

A while later, they came across a troll battling a group of flying fey. The fey swarmed like large malevolent butterflies and fired their tiny bows at the monster. The troll roared and brushed one clawed hand at the score of glittering needles that pierced its face.

One of the fliers noticed Haer'Dalis and with a musical shout, flew towards him. The other fey followed, swooping towards the startled adventurers. At the last moment, they veered for the ceiling and disappeared. The troll lumbered after them, growled and attacked its new targets.

"Those damned fey led the troll to us," Solaufein muttered, after they'd brought it down. Deekin finished off the troll with a fire bolt from his crossbow.

Deekin padded forward. "One of them dead," he said. He lifted the small body by one wing. The fey was almost as long as one of the tiefling's blades but very light. "This be a grig," he said. "Wonder if grigs taste like chicken. Probably taste more like bugs." He gave the dead grig a speculative look. "Some bugs is tasty."

Haer'Dalis leaned over his shoulder for a closer look. "Put it down," he said. "Pathetic little creature, don't maul it about any further."

"You crazy? Grigs not pathetic. Grigs dangerous. You think big dumb troll started that fight?"

"But he's so beautiful."

Solaufein snorted. "That should be a warning right there," he said.

Haer'Dalis grinned. "Beauty is dangerous? A dire warning indeed."

"You should listen to your friend," said a voice near his ear, directly overhead. The grig's voice was too light and musical for true menace, Haer'Dalis thought, but that didn't stop him from trying. "Beauty is dangerous, all right," the grig said. "And I'm drop-dead gorgeous. Put my brother down unless you want an arrow in the eye, lizard." Deekin dropped the body. "Now get on out of here before something really, really bad happens to you. To all of you."

"You tell 'em, Sharpbriar," another grig said.

"Wait," said Haer'Dalis. "Won't you parley a moment?"

"Why?"

"We seek the drow who are using these caverns to attack the surface."

"You looking for drow? I see one right here," Sharpbriar said. He pointed his foot at Solaufein. "Search over, you can go. Haul it before I maul it."

"How droll," Haer'Dalis said. "Obviously we seek others."

"Do I look like I care?"

"Have you seen them? Do they have a camp nearby? We could reward you for this information," Haer'Dalis said.

"Look, are you tallfolk stupid?" Haer'Dalis heard muffled giggles from the ceiling but the grigs were invisible. "If we see a bunch of drow prowling our caves, something really bad will happen to them too. Stick around, you'll find out. First hand."

"But-" Sharpbriar swooped higher and notched one of his needle-like arrows. "Fine, we're going," Haer'Dalis said.

"Yeah, great, finally. Leave the troll. It's ours."

"You may have it with our compliments."

"Yeah, yeah," Sharpbriar said. "You're still here? Why are you still here, scarface? Don't you understand Common? Shoo. Go on. Beat it."

As the three hastily backed out of the cavern, Solaufein heard one of the grigs say, "Well, come on, boys. Break out the knives. Let's see if this thing tastes like chicken."