Dark Flower III, Ch. 5: The First Fall

[Mikayla]

Dark Flower III, Chapter 5

The First Fall


The west gate of Ched Nasad is set into the wall of the ravine across which the city’s calcified webs are spun. The gate is located near the bottom, in the lower layers of the city where common drow mix with non-drow of all sorts. A person descending any lower than this layer would quickly discover that the drow were no longer the majority. Few drow had any reason to descend lower, however. On the same layer as the gate sat the common bazaar. The bazaar, the city’s second largest, was arrayed along a wide strand of the great webs that connected the west gate to the east gate. On either side of the strand were shops and in between the shops were tents, pavilions and market stands of all descriptions. Barkers and shop keepers of many races called out to those who walked through the dimly lit market, selling weapons, armor, potions, poisons, drugs, spirits, clothing and more. The patrons were even more diverse than the sellers. It was not uncommon at all to see Illithid or even fiends walking amongst the crowd. At either end of the market there were flattened areas of calcified webbing where the caravans could keep their pack-lizards, slaves and non-trade goods. Here the caravaners relaxed, guarded their wares and camps, and caroused under the watchful eye of the gate guards.

Each of the two great gates on this level was guarded by warriors from the Brotherhood of the Spider. The Brotherhood, composed of males, was lower in status than its sibling organization, the Sisterhood of the Spider. The warriors of the Sisterhood were posted at the North and South gates which adjoined the great bazaar several layers above. The great bazaar was larger than the common bazaar, but not as densely packed. It also did not usually trade in as wide a variety of goods as one might find in the common bazaar. Being in the middle ground between were the lower class common drow lived and where the non-drow lived afforded the common bazaar some relief from the judgmental eyes and stinging whips of Lolth’s clergy.

Sheyreiza knew the people resented the presence of priestesses even if they wanted their coin. She strode through the market cloaked, with her hood up and a veil loosely wrapped around her face. Behind her followed a half dozen others similarly cloaked and hooded. At the west end of the market strand she saw several warriors in red and black armor leaning against the inner wall of the gatehouse. To their right a large, shadowy winged creature loomed in darkness. Sheyreiza recognized is as a vrock demon immediately but she paid it no mind; demons were usual adjuncts to the gate guard detachments. As she neared the gate she called out to the men. “Where is your captain?”

One of the red and black armored warriors who had been lounging against the wall stood straight. “I am he.” The man replied, his voice offering the slightest of challenges. While only a male, he was a captain of the brotherhood and that was no small station amongst the drow, at least among those who were not noble.

Sheyreiza pulled her hood back and removed her veil. With a sweep of her hand she opened her cloak and threw one side over her shoulder revealing her own red and black armor. “I am Yathtallar Sheyreiza Auvryndar, a mistress of Xonathull Magthere.”

The captain and his men immediately dropped to one knee. Not only was Sheyreiza a high priestess, as a mistress of Xonathull Magthere she was considered a colonel in the military of Zhennu Orbb. Zhennu Orbb, the Great Spider, was a single fortress housing four contingents; first there was the academy composed of Xonathull Magthere, the battle school, the Eyes of the Spider, the priestess school, The Tower of Truth, the scout and assassin school, and the Swords of the City, the school of warriors. Second, there was the Muster; every noble in Ched Nasad owed the city one month of service per year. Each noble was also responsible for bringing with them to this service a certain number of retainers commensurate with the noble’s station in the city. Third, there was the Sisterhood of the Spider and finally, there was the Brotherhood. Together, these four contingents, organized into battalions, formed the closest thing Zhennu Orbb had to a standing city army. All were under the command of the Yathtallar-Ani, the High Priestess-General. The High Priestess-General was always a noble high priestess selected from among the higher-ranking noble houses by the Ruling Council who she served.

The battalions of Zhennu Orbb served the city in different ways; the Brotherhood guarded the lower gates and patrolled the common bazaar; the Sisterhood guarded the upper gates and patrolled the great bazaar; the students of the Academy, organized into coed multidiscipline combat patrols for their classes at Xonathull Magthere, performed general policing duties throughout the city. Patrols of students, usually led by their instructor-mistresses or masters, were a common sight along the strands of the city and in the near-underdark regions around it. As for the Muster, the nobles and their retainers spent most of their one month trying to figure out the pecking order of the Muster and their place in it. By the time they understood the organization, their time was usually up. The Muster did have regular officers overseeing it, but for the most part, it did little and served as the High Priestess-General’s “reserve”, which was to say, the source of most of her headaches as rakish nobles, away from the eyes of their matron, caroused and debauched with abandon. For the most part she turned a blind eye to their excesses; running Zhennu Orbb, especially the academy, more than occupied all her time. From her headquarters in Zhennu Orbb’s citadel she and her officers ordered patrols, scheduled classes, disciplined subordinates, procured supplies and did everything else necessary to keep the four contingents of the Great Spider working.

An officer for one contingent was an officer for all; a captain of the Brotherhood was a captain of Zhennu Orbb. Similarly, a high priestess serving as a mistress of Xonathull Magthere was not just a mistress of the Academy, but a Colonel of Zhennu Orbb.

Satisfied with the Brotherhood warriors’ display of respect, Sheyreiza called them to their feet. “We have scryed duergar warriors in the vicinity of this gate from the Citadel.” Sheyreiza was lying of course. Though dressed in the armor and garb of Zhennu Orbb, her patrol had just come from Qu’ellar Auvryndar. Some of them were not even students at Zhennu Orbb. It was not an improbable lie, however. As a high priestess-colonel Sheyreiza certainly had access to the Citadel and it was commonly known amongst the troops of Zhennu Orbb that the Citadel held a scrying room attached to the temple chamber that served as the High Priestess-General’s command center. From that scrying room, Zhennu Orbb’s senior priestesses and wizards watched the gates, layers and surrounding regions of the city. They could also watch the city’s forces during battle, relaying commands through messengers or magical sendings. All in all, Sheyreiza’s lie was perfectly in keeping with the normal business of Zhennu Orbb. “I am taking my Xonathull Magthere patrol out looking for these gray dwarves. Given the danger of the situation and the recent battle with the Deepgloom duergar, I want this gate to remain closed until I return. No one is to leave through it without my authorization.”

The captain’s brow furrowed involuntarily. “I have heard nothing of these duergar.” He replied.

“You just did.” Sheyreiza said, with no small amount of annoyance in her tone.

Realizing his mistake, the captain bowed his head at once. “Of course Yathtallar. We will close the gate behind you and keep it closed.”

It was obvious the man suspected he was being lied to, but that was nothing unusual; politics in Ched Nasad always involved treachery. The key for someone like the captain was to ride the waves that came and went without getting sucked under. Here, he had been given clear orders by someone with the apparent authority to do so. Not only did he recognize her broach identifying her as a mistress of the Academy and the symbol of Qu’ellar Auvryndar dangling from the choker at her throat, he also recognized Sheyreiza’s face. She was a recent addition to Zhennu Orbb and there was much whispering about the new, beautiful mistress who was rumored to have once been a heretic living in the Night Above. The captain dismissed such rumors as idle gossip of course; the idea of a heretic serving at the Academy was ludicrous. It was a known fact that the prettier a priestess was, the wilder the rumors about her were likely to be, and this was a very pretty priestess. Such thoughts were for another time, however, so the captain ordered the gates opened and allowed Sheyreiza and her patrol to pass through. Whatever she was scheming, the captain wanted no part of it.

Pharaun immediately passed Sheyreiza and scouted ahead. The patrol moved in single file through the canyon like underdark, winding their way up the south wall until they came to a small plateau.

“Very well.” Sheyreiza said. “We are out. Now, order of battle is the same. Pharaun will scout, Vedo will be the blade, I will lead and the rest of you will support. Pharaun, as soon as you locate the Melarn barricade, I want to know. We will stop short of their position and prepare ourselves before moving in.”

“I understand, mistress.” Pharaun replied dutifully.

“Now, let me restate the plan. At the last rally point we will gather up. We will make ourselves appear to have been in battle with the mythical duergar we are supposedly hunting. One of the males will pretend to have been incapacitated by a magical poisoned bolt. Two of the others will drag him along. We will approach the Melarn barricade as if wounded and running from an enemy. When we get there we will ask to speak with their priestess and once she is identified, we will ask her to send out her mage to help with our magically downed comrade. As soon as the mage reveals himself, I will slay the priestess, while Vedo and Pharaun will silence the mage. The rest of you will dispatch the remaining Melarn. Remember, none can be allowed to escape. Under the Way of Lolth, a house that attacks another but which does not kill all that houses’ royals shall be destroyed by the combined forces of the city. Naturally, Matron Shyntlara will not want Qu’ellar Auvryndar destroyed, so she will name us all heretics and rebels. Our own houses will turn on us and we will be executed. Therefore, we must kill all the Melarn and not allow word of our raid to reach the city. Hopefully my orders to the captain of the gate will delay any would-be interlopers or reinforcements long enough for us to finish what we have to do. Once we have taken the barricade, we will reassess the situation. Does everyone understand?” One by one, in station order, her patrol members confirmed their understanding. She signed to them. From here on out, sign language only except in emergencies. One by one, the party of drow silently padded off to the west.

The way through the Deep Spires was not clear as Melarn was supposed to keep it. Trolls, umberhulks and hook-horrors prowled its dark, twisting tunnels and broken caverns. Sheyreiza, her morningstar alight with dark fire, burned a path through the creatures with Pharaun guiding the way and Vedo at her side. The fighting was much heavier than Sheyreiza had predicted and wondered if all these creatures had been placed here some how by the Melarn to keep out interlopers. Whether it was or not, the journey was difficult; more than once trolls broke through the front line, savagely tearing at the members of the patrol, ripping flesh and armor with their black claws and terrible teeth. Though much smaller and weaker than the trolls, Sheyreiza and Vedo were far deadlier. Time and time again they dodged the attacks of the fearsome beasts and laid them low with blade and flame. The drow fought silently, without any apparent hesitation or fear. It would have become obvious to an outsider why the drow dominate the underdark as dozens of trolls, umberhulks and hook-horrors died to their swords, bolts and spells. Like a deadly red and black snake the small patrol wound its way through the pitch-black tunnels of the deep towards their final prey.

Pharaun, the lead scout, stopped with his hand upraised and then signed. The Melarn barricade is not far from here. Sheyreiza removed her helmet and got the attention of the others. This is our objective rally point then. Gather up and prepare for the raid. Pharaun, watch the fore tunnel, Vedo, make sure our rear is watched. Each member of the patrol did whatever they had to do to prepare. Some drank potions, others switched to using magical bolts. Sheyreiza, Faerylene and Vedo all cast spells, raising shields and bolstering their strength and endurance. When the patrol was ready, Sheyreiza ran over the plan one more time. Three of the males gathered together, ready to play out the ruse. Sheyreiza gave Pharaun the signal to advance, and the scout slipped silently into the dark.

A moment later she rounded the corner Pharaun had disappeared behind to find him standing out in the open amidst abandoned barricades. Sheyreiza’s heart began to beat faster and she moved down the long hall. In a moment, she and hers would pass the point of no return; it would be them or the Melarn with no survivors. The Way of Lolth was clear; anything less than total success meant death. Of course, the Way of Lolth only applied if you got caught. If Sheyreiza and her patrol were successful, that would not happen and the Way of Lolth would never be invoked. Lolth only cared about people breaking her rules if they were dumb enough to get caught doing it.

They are not here. He signed. But they may have gone down the tunnel. He pointed beyond the barricades to a dark opening the size of a large door in the cavern wall.

Sheyreiza relayed the information for the patrol and called a short halt. Where were they? Why had they abandoned their posts? She had the area searched but there was no sign of battle, save for the ones her own patrol had been in, and no signs of what had become of the Melarn, save for the darkened tunnel. Sheyreiza examined its round form; it looked to be made with magic, most likely, disintegration spells. Pharaun, scout ahead, I will follow closely. The rest of you, follow and keep it tight. Pharaun drew his blades and moved gracefully into the circular opening. Sheyreiza followed quickly and the patrol followed her in turn. Chanting could be heard in the distance, as could a rumbling.

Down the hall a feminine form became visible, silhouetted by soft faerie fire. Other figures moved around her. Behind them was a smooth faced wall, obviously artificial, and what appeared to be a doorway. Several of the figures appeared to be involved in spell casting. The woman’s silhouette raised a hand and pointed at Sheyreiza and Pharaun. “Quick! Collapse the tunnel!” She yelled.

So much for sneaking up on them, Sheyreiza thought. “Now!” She cried. “Charge!” She ran, morningstar in hand, towards the awaiting Melarn. On either side of the woman one of the spell casting males spun on his heals and raised his hands towards the approaching Auvryndar. Other males, armed with crossbows, let bolts fly down the corridor. “Vedo, Pharaun, on the wizards!” Sheyreiza yelled. One of the mages let loose a brilliant stream of magic but Sheyreiza and her patrol waded through it.

Snarling, the Melarn priestess raised her mace and came at Sheyreiza. “Die you whore!”

Sheyreiza said nothing in reply, she just slipped the woman’s attack and countered. The flaming head of Lolth’s Blessing smashed into the Melarn priestess’ shoulder and the woman yelled in pain. The wounded priestess did not relent, however, and she struck back. The enchanted head of her mace sparking as it connected with the mithral plate of Sheyreiza’s armor. With the speed of a striking snake Sheyreiza whipped her morningstar around into the Melarn’s head. The woman fell back, bleeding profusely and Sheyreiza pressed her assault until it was clear her sister priestess was dead. She looked up, panting, to see a robed male sliding to the ground, Pharaun standing behind him with a bloody blade in his hands. To her right, Vedo tangled with the other mage who soon fell to the warrior’s sword. Other members of the patrol were finishing up the remaining Melarn. Here and there cries of the wounded were silenced by the slip of a blade across a throat.

The cavern shook. Sheyreiza thought it another spell but there were no Melarn left to cast it. Rock and dust fell from the ceiling. “Get in the door!” Sheyreiza yelled. Holding her cloak up to her face to keep the dust out of her mouth and nose she moved quickly through the doorway. She found herself inside a wide hallway, whose floor and walls were inlaid with mosaics depicting debaucheries of every imaginable sort. Members of the patrol, some of them coughing from the dust, staggered in past her. Pharaun was scouting ahead but others were moving in as well. “Sergeant Vedo, get the patrol in order.” The robust sergeant, his long sword slick with blood nodded and began corralling the other patrol members. Sheyreiza left him to the task and followed Pharaun. The structure they were in was old, that much she could tell, and it appeared to be a temple if anything. There was an altar and beside it, a great fire pit, but the most impressive feature of the chamber was the glowing red gorge that ran through its middle. Sheyreiza peered over the side to see lava far below. Heat poured out of the gorge and she quickly began perspiring.

The scout paused at a stout column, as thick as three men standing together. He paused, staring intently at something engraved in the marble. “Yathtallar, you’d better see this.” He called out. Pharaun pointed to a series of runes etched in the marble. The runes were old, perhaps even ancient and the language was high drow. Despite their age, Sheyreiza, a classically trained priestess, could read them, and what she read did not please her at all.

The Prophecy has been made, and those who find this prophecy heed my warning. On the eve of my return, time shall be set in motion. Once started it will not stop. For those who wish to gain power in the Silence, summon me and I will aid you and preserve your power. I am Wendonai, and I am the llythiiri's Saviour.

Vedo and Faerylene walked up beside Sheyreiza and read the inscription also. “Commit it to memory, Vedo.” Sheyreiza commanded. She knew it was heretical, but she also sensed it was important.

Beyond the inscribed column, two stone bridges arced across the lava filled gorge to the far side. She nodded to Pharaun and Vedo and the three quickly crossed over. On the other side they found an enormous statue of a demon with flaming wings. A dozen feet tall, it looked as if it would come to life at any moment, but it did not move.

“What is it?” Vedo asked.

“I would assume its Wendonai.” Sheyreiza replied. She walked around the statue, looking it over from top to bottom. One hand of the statue, held at its side, was curled but empty, as if it had been holding something that was no longer there. “What do you think Vedo. Was he holding something?”

Vedo nodded. “A staff maybe, perhaps a sword.”

“I wonder what became of it.” Sheyreiza mused. “Pharaun, see if you can find anything around here that would fit in his hand.”

“Yes, Yathtallar.” Pharaun replied. The mercenary scout immediately began searching the chamber, but his search was cut short by a violent shaking. Dust fell from the ceiling and the sound of cracking rock echoed throughout the strange halls. All three of them stared up for a moment.

“Yathtallar, I think we should be going.” Said Vedo.

“Indeed.” She looked to Pharaun. “Lead us out of here.” Turning to Vedo she ordered. “Get the patrol ordered, we have to fallback.” Pharaun wasted no time crossing back over the stone bridges. Vedo, Faerylene and Sheyreiza followed close behind. Chiseled stone blocks began to fall from the ceiling and the patrol began to sprint. They ran, dodging falling rocks, choking on dust. Panic grew and they picked up the pace. Huge chunks of rock fell from the ceiling or exploded outwards from the walls. Sheyreiza lost sight of some of her patrol, but she did not stop. She ran faster, passing Vedo and catching up to Pharaun who was threading his way through the falling debris. The ground shook but on they ran, out of the doorway, down the tunnel and beyond. Finally they stopped, breathing hard, panting for breath, sweating heavily. Behind them the tunnels leading to Wendonai’s ancient temple collapsed completely, burying all evidence of their crime against Melarn, but also burying the temple, the statue and the column with its heretical inscription.

Vedo recovered quickly and immediately began organizing the patrol before Sheyreiza could order him to do it. Sheyreiza bent over and gasping, trying to catch her breath, straightened up with her hands on her hips. The temple was gone, but she remembered the inscription. She did not understand what it meant, but she did understand what the cycle’s events meant: Melarn was heretical. The second highest-ranking house of Ched Nasad had abandoned Lolth and gone over to this fiend, Wendonai. A shiver ran through Sheyreiza. Melarn was a powerful house. With Kannyr Vhok, Shurtallistryl and Wendonai as allies, the fate of Ched Nasad was truly endangered. The Matron had to know. As the patrol recovered from its hasty flight Sheyreiza began considering how she would relay this information to Shyntlara. And what she was going to do about it, because one thing was certain. A war for Ched Nasad was coming.