Disclaimer: I've had a few requests for more background information in my Dungeons 'n Drow story (Odd Ideas 133). Well, here it is.
Background
Omake: In the Army
Harry cursed the lack of funds that had prevented him from bribing his way out of the conscription act and the lack of warning that had prevented him from doing a runner. The nation he was in had decided to declare war on some other nation that he didn't care about. This wouldn't have bothered him if it weren't for the aforementioned fact that his nation of residence had decided not to let him stay out of it.
Which was how he found himself on the front lines doing his best to do unto the other bastards before they did unto him. The first few months of the war had quickly fallen into a routine of sleep, eat bad food, march to a battle, and do his best to remain in a large enough piece to be able to march to the next. In other words, it was mind numbingly boring.
Thankfully for Harry's sanity, something happened to break the monotony. It was the best thing that could have happened to him, pity he didn't realize that at the time.
"Captain wants to see you, Harry," the man's orderly relayed.
"What's he want?" Harry replied.
"Scouts lost another mage, guess who gets to replace the poor bastard?"
"Ten gold to say you couldn't find me?" Harry suggested hopefully.
"Captain told me I'd take your place if I couldn't find you," the orderly replied.
"Damn it!" Harry debated his chances of being able to successfully desert for a few moments before finally deciding they weren't good enough to bother with at the moment. With a curse on his lips, he began gathering up his things. He'd heard a rumor that the Headmaster at the academy had been the one to suggest conscription of apprentice mages, Harry vowed that should that turn out to be true and should he also survive the war, that he'd see the man die a slow death unless someone else was fortunate enough to get to him first.
Harry followed the orderly back to the Captain's tent and into it to find his new unit already waiting. They were a tough looking group of men in leather armor, all dressed in flat, dull, earth like colors.
"Doesn't look like much," one of the larger men sneered. He took a menacing step towards Harry, causing Harry to take a step back in response. "Look at 'im cower from me," he laughed, taking another step.
Harry darted forward, burying his left foot in the man's groin, left hand swinging forward to clout the man senseless with a slungshot.
"Who's next?" Harry asked calmly, a ball of flame appearing in his right hand, the slung shot, a lead ball tied into a monkey fist knot, ready to knock another man senseless in his left.
"I like 'im," one of the men said with a grin, "can we keep 'im, Sarge?"
AN: A 'slung shot' is a piece of grapeshot in the middle of a monkey fist knot with a foot or two of rope as the handle. Illegal to carry in a lot of old port towns and costal states.
Omake: When Harry met Min
Life was cheap in Drow society, it was almost not worth living if one had the misfortune to be born a male. He'd realized at a very young age a way to carve himself a partial exception; step one was to become valuable, step two was to become to dangerous to be kept close to home. The first wasn't that hard, a dozen decades studying magic was all it took. He'd managed it before his two hundredth birthday. Step two had required some thought, the trick was to not let the danger he presented outweigh the value he represented. In the end, he rather thought he'd found an elegant solution. Absent mindedness, sure he'd blown up the east hall, but only because he'd been distracted by this fascinating treatise that had permitted him to construct these enormously valuable magical items. Don't you think they'll benefit the clan?
What had followed had been a short but painful punishment and an exile to a relatively private tower five days travel from the clan's seat of power. That distance had allowed him the sort of power most males only dreamed of. So it's to be understood why he was less than pleased when his youngest sister arrived for a visit.
"Good day, Min," he said, trying not to show the tension he felt upon recognizing his visitor. "Does mother want something?"
"If you call me 'Min' again, I shall see you eat your own testicles, brother," the young Drow maiden growled. "Mother is dead, you will provide shelter for me while I plan my next move."
"Which one is the new Matron?" he asked, sounding bored by the whole thing.
"The eldest." And the bitch had not wasted a second of time eliminating her siblings. On the plus side, being the youngest had meant that she was relatively low on the priority list. It hadn't been easy to slip out of the city, but it was much safer than the alternative.
"Okay . . . um, maybe the red room . . . no, that still has pieces of the thing I accidentally summoned last week. There's a bed in the . . . . no, it's covered in books . . . hmm . . ."
"I shall be taking your bedroom, brother," the young maiden sniffed. "Show it to me and then make yourself useful, I shall be needing a new set of weaponry and armor."
"But where will I sleep?" he asked, pasting a look of stupefied confusion on his face.
"In the stables with the other animals for all I care, now move!" she barked.
"This way," he said, injecting a tone of hurt into his voice.
He waited until his sister was asleep before casting a dozen spells to insure that she did not awaken at an inconvenient time. It did not take long to receive a message from the new Matron; he was instructed to continue his research and to keep an eye out for his youngest sister, a rich reward was promised for information leading to her capture.
To be sure, he cast a couple more spells on the sleeping maiden as he tried to decide what to do. Informing the Matron would be a last resort, something to do only if he suspected she already had some clue on where the youngest might have run.
He was still mulling over the problem the next day on the arrival of the apparently human mage that had been adventuring in the area with his group. Not many creatures could survive an extended stay in the Underdark and he refused to believe that a human could consistently beat him, a master with more than a hundred years of practice at chess. Hence, his caution when dealing with the creature.
"What do you want?" he demanded as he left his stronghold. The creature had refused, as yet, to have any meetings under protections that he did not control. The compromise they'd worked out was to have their games outside, where there were no protections.
"Managed to acquire a couple spell books I thought you might be interested in," the apparent human replied, being very careful not to block his companion's shot.
"How much, human?"
"You know I never sell things. If you want them, you'll have to win them."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry grinned as the Drow mulled it over, he knew the man wouldn't be able to resist getting fleeced again and Harry couldn't resist doing it since his group was in the area. The others didn't like his association with the Drow, didn't understand how valuable it was to have a local source of information. The things the man had let slip during games more than made up for the occasions that Harry let him win and the rare occasions he actually did.
"Let me see the books," the Drow demanded.
"I'll show you one of them," Harry conceded. He checked to make sure that his companions were in position. Just because he was willing to deal with a Drow mage, didn't mean he was stupid. He never set up a meeting without at least four hidden bowmen and the rest of the group concealed close enough to be of some use if a fight did break out. Harry reached into his pack to pull out a book, seemingly at random. "Found it as part of a horde."
"What sort of horde, where?"
"We could gamble for that information instead, if you don't want to wager for the books," Harry replied.
"I'll wager a thousand gold," the Drow offered.
"Five thousand per book," Harry said firmly.
"Five thousand total," the Drow countered.
"Five thousand per book or I'm walking away and you can forget ever having the opportunity to touch one of them again," Harry replied.
"Fine," the Drow growled.
"Set up the board," Harry said. It was hard not to grin, this was higher than he'd ever been able to talk the skinflint up to ever before. "Best of three?"
"Best of five, human!" the Drow barked.
"Of course," Harry agreed.
Harry let the Drow win the first game in an attempt to get him to raise the stakes, that failed so he crushed the bastard in the next game, suffered a draw in the next, and had two quick victories after that.
"Seems you owe me quite a bit of gold," Harry said easily.
"Accursed human," the Drow grumbled.
"Payment to be made immediately if you want to remain mostly watertight," Harry continued, signaling for the archers to make themselves visible.
"I know the rules, human," the Drow spat. A crafty gleam appeared in the Drow's eye. "Perhaps you could be persuaded to make a deal?"
"I think I'd rather have the gold," Harry countered.
"I find myself a bit short on liquid assets at the moment," the Drow admitted.
"What sort of deal?" Harry sighed.
"What would you give for a young female of the noble class, untouched so far as I know." Meaning more valuable for sacrifice or rendering into spell components. "Not even a hundred years of age." For a couple months.
"Where might you find one of those on such short notice?" Harry asked.
"My youngest sister happens to be in my keep at the moment," the Drow replied.
"You're trying to sell me your sister to pay off your gambling debts?" Harry asked with a grin. "Imagine your Matron might object to that sort of behavior.
"The new Matron has offered a rather substantial reward for information on her whereabouts, but I thought I'd offer you a chance to pick her up first. If I give her to you, she'll live. I give her to the Matron, she won't. It's not a hard choice, she is family after all." And the bitch probably wouldn't cough up the gold she'd promised, might even motivate her to keep a closer eye on him. No, better if his dear youngest sister were to disappear. Since she had to disappear anyway, she may as well help her older brother keep a bit of gold in his pocket.
"Fine," Harry agreed, knowing that he'd regret it. "But I'm going to want you to throw in a few things to sweeten the pot."
"What sort of things?" the Drow asked suspiciously.
"Your new acid bolt spell, your new shield spell, and the sword I lost to you last week," Harry replied.
"Agreed," the Drow replied.
"Have everything brought here," Harry directed. "Another game while we wait?"
"Of course," the Drow agreed, motioning for one of his servants to fetch the things. "Care to place a wager on the outcome?"
"How bout that new sword of mine?" Harry suggested.
"Deal," the Drow agreed.
Harry played a fair game, allowing the Drow to narrowly defeat him on the cusp of his victory. It was always a good way to leave the bastard in a good mood after spending the day emptying his pockets.
The servants returned dropping the girl and the sword at Harry's feet.
"She likes to be called Min," the Drow said as he snatched up the sword. "I wouldn't suggest staying in this section of the Underdark, the new Matron will not be happy if she hears that a human possesses her prey." The sooner the adventurers disappeared with his sister, the safer it would be.
Omake: Care for your tools
A smile lit Harry's face at the question in the Drow's eyes. This had the potential to be more than a bit amusing if he played things right.
"You want to know why I don't beat you, torture you, rape you, cause you pain for my amusement?" Harry asked.
Min's eyes widened in shock.
"You're an open book to me, you have no secrets from me," Harry explained. "Disappointing since your people were supposed to be masters of deception, but not unexpected based on the other members of your race I've dealt with." A simple people with simple, if sadistic, motivations.
"Why don't you?" the girl growled.
In response, Harry reached forward and grabbed a handful of hair from the back of the Drow's head. Using it as a handle, he pulled her close and forced her to look him in the eye. His other hand rose to brush against her bosom, palming the bodice dagger she'd concealed.
"Yes, I knew about this too," he said, holding up the dagger. "Would you use it to chip stone?"
"No," she replied sullenly.
"Of course not, it would ruin the blade, make it worthless for its intended purpose." Which was probably to be stuck in his kidney at some point if she got her way. "That's what you are to me, a potentially useful tool." He shook his head. "No, better to say that I believe you have the potential to become a useful tool. At the moment, you're not even that."
He released the girl and dropped the dagger.
"What am I?" she asked, confused by how things had gone.
"A source of amusement." Harry turned so she wouldn't see his smile. "One that's barely worth more than the ingredients she'd render into. Think hard on ways you can be useful to me or resign yourself to the fact that I will find a use for you if you don't." He strode out of the tent. Drow, know what strings to pull and you could play them like a harp.
Typos fixed by Dark King
Idea suggested by David Ford
Omake: Siege
Several eyes followed the new man as he walked through the camp to the captain's tent. Raven black hair with a few stray bits of grey at the temples, a strong jaw, and bedecked in enough magical items to imply that he was either rich enough to purchase them all or dangerous enough to acquire them by other means.
More eyes lingered in the lithe female form of the robed figure following in the mage's wake. A few plans were made to either distract the wizard or otherwise take advantage of his absence for a bit of time with the man's shadow. Those plans would later be ruthlessly discarded by horrified men once they'd learned the nature of the woman, but that wasn't important . . . at least not yet.
Harry came to a stop and gave the sentries in front of the tent a flat look. "Announce me!" he ordered.
"Wizard to see you, captain," one of the men called out.
"Kinda stupid looking," the other volunteered. "Doesn't look likroak . . . croak."
The remaining guard stared at the frog like creature that had taken the place of his companion for a moment in stupefied shock before making a wild grab for his sword. Another gesture made him a perfect match for the first creature and Harry strode into the tent, unhindered.
"I didn't say you could come in," the captain said calmly. The man was an apparent human of advanced years sitting on a folding chair.
"And I'm not sure I want to take a job from someone with such ill trained sentries outside his tent," Harry replied. "My fee has just tripled."
"What makes you think that I'm going to hire you after what you did to my men?" the captain demanded.
"That was my fee for undoing what I just did," Harry replied. "Six hundred gold to have the pair of them returned to normal." Harry popped his neck. "I wouldn't advise it, personally, between the lot of them they can't be worth more than a dozen coppers."
"True," the captain admitted. "But the stupid looking one is my sister's eldest son and the really stupid looking one is my wife's nephew."
"Put them in front of your tent where you could keep an eye on them and where they couldn't get into any trouble?"
"Yes," the captain admitted. "Who are you and how did you hear that I was hiring?"
"One of you recruiters met me in an inn about two days down the road, gave me twenty gold to agree to an interview with you."
"Who?"
"Don't recall his name; Dwarf, carried a double axe, red beard, big nose, scar across the bridge of the aforementioned big nose."
"That skinflint offered you twenty of my gold?"
"Just to meet with you," Harry agreed.
"Why?" the captain demanded.
"Min."
"Master?" The cloak formed stepped out of the shadows to hover attentively by Harry's shoulder.
"Lower your hood," Harry ordered. "Give him a good look at your face."
"Yes, master," the cloaked woman agreed.
The captain's eyes bulged in shock at what he saw. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible.
"Souvenir from my time in the pits," Harry explained.
"How long were you down there?" the captain choked.
"Long enough. Put your hood back up, Min."
"As you wish, master."
"I didn't think it was possible to enslave one of them," the captain admitted.
"It's easy." The whole race was nothing but slaves after all. "You just have to convince them that you have more power than they ever will, that you can crush any of their attempts to escape or assassinate you, and that you laugh at their pathetic efforts." Harry slapped the elf on the rump. "To them, the weak are the natural prey of the strong. She's weaker than I am."
"What happens when someone stronger comes along?" the captain asked.
"Care to try your luck?"
"No, we're getting sidetracked," the captain said quickly. He wanted no part in fighting a man that kept one of them so close. It was rather like shoving a badger down one's pants, sure it might warm you up, might also cause parts near and dear to every man to be bitten off. "I need a magic user to negate the one in the town I'm laying siege to."
"Who is it?"
"Agorin One Eye," the captain replied solemnly.
"Him?" Harry burst into laughter. "You're worried about him?"
"His library is said to be unrivaled in size," the captain cautioned.
"In that case, I want first right of refusal to anything that comes from his, or any other magi user's house," Harry replied.
"His power is said to be . . ."
"Pathetic," Harry interrupted.
"How do you know?"
"We went to the academy together," Harry said with a wide grin. "Granted he graduated and I didn't, I also spent the last several years adventuring while he's grown fat and happy in his father's town."
"You dropped out?"
"On the day he got his handy new name," Harry agreed. "I've heard he swore vengeance against me for what I did to him, I think it's time we saw if he were a man of his word. Ten thousand gold for his death along with first refusal of any magic."
"You've got to be joking," the other man sputtered. "I can get twenty mages for half as much. Still, you did come all the way here . . . I suppose I could offer you, four plus first refusal of any books."
"Now who's joking?"
Omake: Taking the field
Harry smiled as the pimply faced apprentice approached the enemy lines. Time to see if his old classmate had grown some sense in the years since they'd seen each other.
"What do you want?!" one of the men standing on the doomed city's walls demanded.
"I'm here to deliver a challenge to your mage, Agorin one eye!" the apprentice bellowed, trying not to shake. He'd signed onto the army to help around camp and do other strictly non-combatant roles. Delivering a challenge to one of the most powerful mages in the country was not what he had in mind.
"Terms?" a distinguished looking one eyed man demanded.
"To the death between the armies," the apprentice replied.
"Who is my opponent?" the one eyed man asked. "You?"
"Not me," the apprentice said quickly. "I'm not even a combat mage."
"Who, then?"
"The newest mage in camp, I don't know is name but the rumor is that he was hired to deal with you," the apprentice babbled. "He told me . . . he told me to give you a message."
"Let's have it," the more powerful mage growled.
"He said . . . he said that he was willing to give you ten minutes to run back to your house before he killed you. He said he wanted you to seal your library off to protect it from flame and looting until he had a chance to loot and then burn it himself." The apprentice was trembling.
"Was that all?"
"He said some rather unkind things about any possible daughters you might have, sir. He then said that he found it unlikely that you would be able to find a woman to willingly copulate with you and that it was likely their mother was a . . . was a . . ."
"Yes?" the mage growled.
"Was either a poxy whore or a particularly slow farm animal," the trembling apprentice blurted.
"Tell him that I accept his terms and that I shall enjoy forcing him to eat his own spleen!" the mage thundered.
Harry waited until his old school chum had taken the field and was far enough out to have difficulty reaching the safety of the walls. It was time to have a little reunion.
"Who is it that dares face the might of Agorin one eye? Who is the dead man who was fool enough to challenge me?" Agorin bellowed. With luck, killing whatever third rate mage the invaders had found to stand with them would demoralize them enough to leave. A feral grin lit his face as he thought of what he could do to a demoralized army in retreat, the example he could make of them.
"That would be me!" a hooded figure replied. The figure left the enemy lines and came to a stop about thirty yards away.
"What do you want on your tombstone, deadman?" Agorin demanded.
"Is that anyway to treat an old school chum?" the figure asked, lowering his hood.
"You!" A spike of fear pierced his heart when he saw the face of his opponent.
"Been a long time since the academy," Harry greeted his old classmate. "I'm told you made a promise about what you were going to do the next time you saw me?"
"They said you were dead," Agorin replied dumbly. He'd believed it too, what was the chances of someone returning from an extended stay in the underdark?
"I got better," Harry said dryly. "Have we had enough banter or do you want to waste more of my time?"
"I think we've had enough," Agorin spat. The rumors of the man's stay in the pits must be exaggerated. There was no way the idiot in front of him could replicate his feat, no way he could face the might of a wizard with the best library within two hundred leagues. "I promised the Headmaster's widow that I'd see you end."
"More banter?" Harry sighed. "How long must I wait for you to get this out of your system?" He scratched his chin. "I'd suggest postponing this for a week if not for my fear that you'd try to escape."
"Are you calling me a coward?!" Agorin screamed. "Fire . . ." a look of confusion appeared on his face as he toppled over. "H . . . how?"
"I've learned quite a few tricks over the years," Harry replied, watching the other man die. The victorious wizard looked at the city walls. "Does anyone else want to try their luck?!"
AN: On the fence about turning this into a full fic, got quite a few projects going at the moment. May keep it on the back burner, may bin it. Who knows.
Beta by: dogbertcarroll
More polish applied by: dark_king98