Dark Flower, Book II - Chapter 12 - The Last Dance.
Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2005 7:46 pm
Dark Flower, Book II - Chapter 12 - The Last Dance.
The journey from the Dragon Isle in the midst of the Sea of Fallen Stars to the outskirts of Silverymoon took far less time than the journey from Waterdeep to Immurk’s Hold though the journeys were roughly the same distance as the dragon flies. Indeed, the journey to Silverymoon took less than time than a stroll down the beaches of Grogsong. Hignar used his most powerful divine spells to transport himself, Nikie Stitch, Inthara and Sheyreiza instantly to a mountain pass just outside the so called ‘Gem of the North.’ He explained that the pass was as close as the wards of the city would allow them to teleport. From the pass it was but a short walk to the gates. Sheyreiza did not expect much, having been less than impressed with Waterdeep, Immurk’s Hold, and the other human cities she had seen but Silverymoon was different. The delicate, beautiful hand of elven artistry was evident everywhere, though the city was certainly as human as it was elven. The beauty gave Sheyreiza little comfort though; in the polished armor of the city’s knights and the white marble of its stately edifices Sheyreiza saw only the reflection of the light that would soon be lost to her.
The folk of Silverymoon did not attack Sheyreiza and Inthara, but they did not greet them with open arms either. Spellguards and knights approached and challenged, while common citizens scowled and scurried aside. The first human who regarded with Sheyreiza with curiosity and treated her with some measure of decorum rather than fear and hatred was a cartographer. Sheyreiza purchased maps of the city and neighboring region from him as he explained his curious nature often overcame his instinctual fear. Sheyreiza was grateful for the respite from the prejudice of the other surfacers but she knew the cartographer would have been better served in life to allow his instincts to check his curiosity.
After reporting to the powers that be, Hignar guided Inthara and Sheyreiza on a tour of the city’s libraries, stores and other sights including the fabled Moonbridge. Even Sheyreiza, normally reluctant to express any sense of awe, had to admit the Moonbridge was impressive. Though less spectacular to the naked eye, to a warrior or trained spellcaster, the sight of many golems marching through the streets including some made entirely of mithral was even more impressive. Hignar, Inthara and Sheyreiza followed one such patrol of enchanted constructs as they pounded their way down the streets cracking cobblestones as they went. The golems were led by a Silverymoon Spellguard, who brought them to one of the city gates. The Spellguard explained to Hignar they were placing the golems as traps for the coming shadovar. Sheyreiza was impressed by the wealth and magic it took to make so many golems, but she was not hopeful regarding their power to stop the shade army. While golems were certainly immune to most magic, they were also incapable of catching and killing a powerful arcanist. The golems would help stand against the mundane armies of the shades, but it was not the mundane armies of the shades that worried Sheyreiza. It was their damn spellcasters.
The trio passed through the city gate and Hignar led them to Winter Edge, a settlement that had been destroyed by the Shades. Shrouded in an unnatural darkness, the place was in complete ruins with barely a stone left standing. There were no bodies or skeletons visible, leading Sheyreiza to assume the Shades were animating the fallen and enslaving the captured. She expected nothing less. Hignar retrieved a misshapen lump of rock that had once been a carefully chiseled brick from the stronghold. He showed it to Sheyreiza as evidence of the power of the shades. A single spell had leveled the settlement – a single spell so powerful it melted stone across the entire village. A shadow interrupted their investigation. Hignar killed it quickly and the trio withdrew only to come under fire from a flying arcanist. Dwarven constitution and drow reflexes kept the trio alive as they fled the dark ruins and its watchers.
Upon their return to Silverymoon an agent of the Queen approached and bid them to the palace to see Alustriel herself. The time had come to see what the surfacers were really about. Hignar led the two drow women through the wide, sterile streets to the palace, past the guards in their gleaming armor and through the narrow gates in the stone walls. All took notice of the two drow entering, but no one challenged them or their dwarven chaperone. In the palace they were greeted by Alustriel’s courtiers and ushered into a throne room of sorts. At the far end of the room Sheyreiza could see a crowd gathered. Hignar began speaking but Sheyreiza ignored him. Hignar might be a high priest, perhaps even a king amongst dwarves, but the real power was there in the midst of the crowd; a human woman, regally dressed, casually carrying on conversation with a masked man in black, a bald man in red and a drow woman whose red eyes set afire at the sight of Sheyreiza approaching. Sheyreiza had no doubt who this human woman was; the de facto ruler of the Silvermarches, the Queen of Courtly Love, the High Lady Alustriel.
Sheyreiza approached without fear. She had been in the presence of a goddesses Chosen before, namely Qilue Veladorn, and Sheyreiza was not impressed. Though outwardly the radiantly beautiful, six foot tall, silver haired Qilue appeared like nothing short of a goddess, years of familiarity had bred only contempt in Sheyreiza’s heart for the Chosen of Eilistraee. Sheyreiza hoped Alustriel would prove less disappointing but she was prepared to find another flawed jewel of a matriarch. It was the drow woman who met Sheyreiza’s gaze first, however, and Sheyreiza’s eyes narrowed in response. No one had mentioned Alustriel already having drow allies. Though as keen of sight as any drow, Sheyreiza could not discern any visible sign of affiliation on the black clad drow. Whom did this woman worship? Eilistraee? Vhaerun? Certainly not Lolth? If so, Sheyreiza’s value was far less than she had thought and this situation would not easily be turned to her advantage.
Conversation halted as Sheyreiza approached. Hignar and Inthara followed behind her but let Sheyreiza approach first. Alustriel turned from the masked man in black and looked upon Sheyreiza with a smile. “Welcome.” Said the High Lady warmly.
Sheyreiza bowed her head in respect. “Malla Ilharess,” she said in her native drow language. “Honored Matriarch,” she offered as a translation. It was not precisely accurate, but it was the most respectful title Sheyreiza could give to Alustriel in drow. A shape moved behind the crowd and Sheyreiza saw an illithid, a mind-flayer, moving amongst Alustriel’s courtiers and attendants.
“Before we continue,” Alustriel said, hands extended, “I would like to ensure these conditions are agreeable, and introduce the others here.” She turned to the bald man in the crimson robes who looked out periodically with suspicious eyes from a down cast face. “This is Edwin Odesseiron, representative of the Red Wizards.” The human male muttered something but Sheyreiza ignored him.
Alustriel turned to another human male standing rigidly in a confident juxtaposition to the hunched, muttering red wizard beside him. “Tearn Hornblade, this city's leader.” Turning to the drow woman, Alustriel held out her hand. “Priestess Do'ana of Eilistraee.” She gestured next to the masked man in black. “Manshoon, of the Zhentarim.” Sheyreiza had not only heard of the Zhentarim, she had heard of Manshoon. Was he not one of their highest leaders? Perhaps their founder? Her human-lore was not what it had been when she had been a student at Zhennu Orbb and she found herself unable to place this Manshoon precisely. Nevertheless, she felt it likely he was someone of importance and power amongst the humans. There were others in attendance but they went without introduction. Sheyreiza assumed them to be the courtiers, bodyguards or servants of the leaders who had been named. Finally, Alustriel turned to the Illithid. “I have also asked Shz'ratilk to observe and ensure that only the truth is spoken here.” She said gesturing to the tentacle faced monstrosity. “Is this acceptable?”
It most certainly was not acceptable to Sheyreiza. It seemed her worst fears about the quality of Alustriel were about to be confirmed. For a moment Sheyreiza wondered if this negotiation would fall apart if she protested. She had to proceed carefully here. “You entrust the truth to a Priest of Madness?” Sheyreiza asked Alustriel incredulously.
“He is an ally.” The high lady responded neutrally. “He has provided us with weapons and intelligence regarding the Shadovar.”
Hignar spoke up. “We've met. He's an ally.”
Sheyreiza eyed the illithid and a moment later she felt his thoughts in her head. Greetings, the creature said through its telepathy.
Get out of my head, Priest of Madness, and stay out, Sheyreiza answered angrily. She no longer cared if the negotiation would fall apart. She would not treat with anyone under such conditions; she would never willingly give a priest of madness access to her mind. She turned to Alustriel. “He is in my head, and I do not like that.
Inthara nodded. “Xas.”
Alustriel addressed the tall, slender illithid. “You will only read surface thoughts. Lies or truth, that is all.
The illithid responded audibly. “Yesss.”
Sheyreiza was not so easily appeased, however. The drow of the Underdark had a long and bitter history with the illithid. “It was one such advisor and ally as he who betrayed Menzoberranzan's Matron Baenre to her death, more or less.”
A frown crossed Hignar’s face. “I thought she 'as still 'live?”
Alustriel tilted her head slightly. “If you find it necessary, I will send him on his way.”
“I would prefer it, Honored Lady.” Sheyreiza said evenly.
“Then you may go,” Alustriel said to Shz'ratilk, “remember what we discussed.”
Sheyreiza watched the illithid leave, her eyes literally burning with hate and mistrust. There were few creatures she despised as much as illithid. ‘Remember what we discussed’? Alustriel had allowed her pet to be dismissed too easily. Sheyreiza had little doubt that the illithid would be stationed in a nearby room with orders to read the minds of those negotiating with the High Lady. While Manshoon and this red wizard might have known that and might have taken suitable precautions, Hignar had given Sheyreiza no such warning. Accordingly, she had little but her own ferocity with which to keep the probing psyche of the illithid at bay. Still, Alustriel had acceded to her wishes publicly even if she was likely keeping the illithid near. Sheyreiza would have to give public respect to the public acquiescence. Turning to the High Lady, Sheyreiza bowed her head. “Bela'dos Malla Ilharess. Thank you honored lady.”
“I do not trust him myself,” Alustriel said openly, “but so far we seem to be on the same side. And as you are aware by your presence here, any allies we can get are welcome.”
“So I see.” Sheyreiza responded curtly. She looked to the others. “I have met Red Wizards and Zhentarim in the past, but only in battle.”
“Monkeys,” muttered the red wizard Odesseiron, his eyes darting away from the others as if scanning the floor for something lost.
Alustriel gestured to the others around her. “These have agreed to assist us. It is mutually beneficial, of course, but allies nevertheless.”
“If the ruins I had seen did not impress upon me the desperate nature of this fight, this tableau before my eyes has done so.” Sheyreiza said truthfully. Only true desperation could have brought such forces together in any semblance of cooperation.
Alustriel nodded. “So you have seen Winter Edge?”
“I have.” Sheyreiza replied.
Hignar held up the melted stone he had taken. “What's left of it.”
“Then I need not relate so many details on our foe.” Alustriel said grimly. “May I ask where you two are from, originally?”
Sheyreiza though it odd that the High Lady did not already know. Was she not a chosen of Mystra? Had not Hignar informed her of all they had said? Perhaps the dwarf was as curt with her as he was with them. “We are from Ched Nasad by birth.” Sheyreiza answered. Inthara nodded but kept silent. “Though the body I wear now is from Menzoberranzan, except for the eye.” She gestured to her sapphire orb. “That is from elsewhere.”
Alustriel nodded but her face was anything but agreeable. “Menzoberranzan I have more experience with.” Said the High Lady.
Sheyreiza restrained a smile. “None pleasant I would assume.”
“No.” Alustriel admitted. “They have tried to kill me on numerous occasions, most recently during their last invasion.”
“Mithrial Hall.” Inthara muttered.
“I was with the detachments at Mithril Hall.” Alustriel said defiantly. “They stopped trying to strike us here in Silverymoon many years ago.”
“I see.” Sheyreiza said, again restraining a smile. The High Lady’s ego was apparently of a size commensurate with her position if she had taken to regarding the attack on Mithril Hall as an attempt on her life. Such was the ego of Matriarchs everywhere it seemed.
Alustriel continued. “My experience with them is that they are very intelligent, among their other attributes. I believe the success of this venture hinges on that. They must be made to realize that, for all of our history, we will make much better neighbors than the Shadovar. And I believe that is why they would fight. Is that accurate?”
“Maybe learned 'here lesson 'bout Mithril Hall likewise.” Hignar grumbled.
Sheyreiza could no longer restrain her smile and a grin split her delicate face. “They are intelligent and Mithril Hall was lost to them because the Spider Queen wanted their matrons dead more than she wanted the dwarves dead.” She considered Alustriel’s last question for a moment. “Is that accurate? Yes and no. I believe I can convince them of the very real nature of the threat.”
“And now you see why I need your advice.” Alustriel said. “Please continue.”
There was never much doubt in Sheyreiza’s mind as to why Alustriel needed her advice; only doubt as to the veracity of the need. Until Sheyreiza had seen Winter Edge and then this gathering of leaders from the Silvermarches, the Zhentarim and the Red Wizards, Sheyreiza had still thought this might be a ruse to draw out the armies of Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan to destroy them. Now she believed in the threat of the Shades and in the desperation of those who stood in their dark path. “I think I stand a fair chance of getting them to contribute to the fight.” Sheyreiza said confidently. “You will not get a great outpouring of their strength, but I believe I can bring a force worth considering.” Even a few hundred drow, if properly used, could be devastating. “Menzoberranzan has recovered from Mithril Hall, or so my adopted family has told me, and they still have mercenaries; perhaps the best in all Faerun.”
Alustriel knew immediately of whom Sheyreiza spoke. “Bregan D'aerthe, yes?”
“Among some, xas.” Inthara answered.
Sheyreiza nodded. “Xas, Bregan D'arthe.” She confirmed. “Also, Ched Nasad is and has been for many centuries larger and stronger than Menzoberranzan, though Ched's mercenaries are not as famous.” Sheyreiza paused for a moment and looked amongst the gathered courtiers. The red wizard was muttering something about Jarlaxle of Bregan D’Arthe being a bastard monkey. Sheyreiza was impressed the Red Wizard knew of the mercenary leader but the red wizard’s insistence at referring to drow as monkey’s was comical at best. Racial derision from a human was beneath pathetic and there was no point in returning insult for insult when Sheyreiza could wait just a few short decades and watch the human either wither and die or sell his soul into undeath in some misguided attempt to cling to this world. If there was a monkey in the room, it was him, and he was just too stupid to know it. Sheyreiza felt no need to educate him on his place in the order of things; time would do that soon enough. Sheyreiza just smiled at the bald wizard, winked, then addressed Alustriel. “They will not come for 'goodness' or even to save you. They will come to save themselves, and for Shadovar slaves.”
“Indeed.” Alustriel responded. “From what I have been told by those who have allied with the drow before, as long as they benefit, they will be loyal to the alliance.”
“We are usually pragmatic,” Sheyreiza said, nodding in agreement. She omitted, however, to mention that what the drow view as benefits might not be what the surfacers would think. The ultimate benefit for the drow of Ched Nasad or Menzoberranzan was the favor of Lolth, and if betraying the surfacers meant gaining or keeping the favor of Lolth, the drow would do it in a heartbeat even though such betrayal might be tactically or economically unsound. The surfacers were not mindful enough of the gods. Hignar’s willingness to be raised from the dead by a Yathtallar of Lolth proved that if nothing else. The faith of these people was as pale as their skin. It was not surprising then, that they would see ‘benefit’ in terms of only strategy, such as defeating the shades, and economics, such as gaining slaves, while missing the most important third leg of this most unstable tripod – the favor of the Spider Queen.
“And the mercenaries, I assume, will be loyal as long as they are paid, yes?” Alustriel inquired.
Sheyreiza shrugged slightly. “The mercenaries, Bregan D'Arthe will be loyal to coin, unless the Baenre, the Spider Queen or circumstances dictate otherwise.”
This caught Hignar’s attention. “What kinda circumstance?” Asked the gruff dwarf.
Sheyreiza thought it best to be truthful here, or at least as truthful as she could be; all that she knew of Bregan D’Arthe was second hand, so it was all just compiled rumor and innuendo. Still, there were some stories that sounded and felt true. “When Lolth abandoned Matron Baenre in the fight for Mithral Hall, Jaraxle and his mercenaries abandoned the field.” Or so Sheyreiza had heard. It sounded likely, so she repeated it as if it was fact. It would be best for the surfacers if they did not place too much trust in any of the drow, even the mercenaries. “In short, when circumstances indicate defeat is inevitable, Jarlaxle will be the first to withdraw.”
“What of the other mercenaries?” Alustriel asked. “The same?”
“Those of Ched? Less competent, more loyal.” Sheyreiza answered. Again, she did not know if it was really true, but it was her best guess. These surfacers kept probing her for the boundaries of drow ‘trust’ and in so doing, convinced her they did not really know their subterranean cousins as much as Sheyreiza would have thought. Like children, they needed instruction. “All drow loyalty is a thing of circumstance.” She told them.
“Indeed, so if we are to do this, we must ensure they continue to benefit.” Alustriel stated.
“That would be wise.” Sheyreiza replied, though she knew it would be impossible for the surfacers to ensure anything of the sort. The Spider Queen would see to that. Sheyreiza saw no point to mentioning that yet though.
“However, we must ensure they do not benefit too much.” The High Lady added.
Sheyreiza smiled. “Wiser still.” And it was, if Alustriel really understood what it meant. Of course, the High Lady did not evidence any understanding of what really motivated the drow of Menzoberranzan and Ched Nasad despite having waged a shadow war with them for decades. Sheyreiza could try to explain it, but the human obsession with coin and temporal power would never let her see the truth; the drow would do what the Spider Queen wanted, no matter what the economic or strategic results were.
“How do you plan to acquire this alliance?” Alustriel asked.
Sheyreiza was relieved to get on with the details of the plan. “I will approach one house I have a connection to in each city. Faen Tlabbar in Menzoberranzan, where this body is the body of a Princess. Auvryndar in Ched Nasad, where this soul is the soul of a Princess. I will offer to the Matrons of those two houses my trade contacts here on the surface and present to them samples of things available here. Perfumes, woods, spices...”
Alustriel interrupted. “No weapons or magic of any sort.”
Sheyreiza had to contain a derisive snort. “We make better weapons, and for the most part, better magic.” She smiled. “Though your mythal is impressive.”
The High Lady nodded. “I simply wanted to be clear. Nothing that would benefit them in war against us later.”
The most valuable thing the drow stood to gain was knowledge. No sword, no scroll, no wand could compete in value with simply learning the surface realm’s layout, strengths and weaknesses. Can you not see that, ‘High Lady’? Do you not realize what you are getting into? Sheyreiza set those thoughts aside and continued laying out her plan. “With the Matron's greed enticed, I will use the respective matrons to call a meeting of their ruling councils. I will present the threat and the opportunity. No matter how much they hate you, and they do, they will see the logic even if they do not want to heed it. So, I present the other opportunity - the chance to take many Shadovar slaves without worrying about war with you.” Alustriel nodded as Sheyreiza continued. “There are also other benefits, such as the opportunity to send Houses or forces the matrons do not like on streega – suicide - missions.”
“Politics, as always.” Alustriel noted astutely.
“With a vengeance.” Sheyreiza added. She held up her hands. “That is the basic plan.”
“How many soldiers do you think could be gotten, realistically?” The High Lady asked.
Inthara put a hand on Sheyreiza’s shoulder and tapped as Sheyreiza gave some consideration to Alustriel’s question. It was a question Sheyreiza had been asking herself for days now and she was still not sure how the matron’s would respond. “To start with, while they are still considering the threat? A battalion from each city, which is 500 to a 1000. Plus mercenaries, which for Bregan D'arthe means 100 maybe a 150. For Ched, mercenaries, more, but of less quality.” She paused and then remembered the obvious. “Oh, and slave troops perhaps double that number.” The drow did not use drow as fodder when there were other creatures available to serve that purpose. Like the folk of the Silvermarches, Zhentarim and Red Wizards.
Inthara’s tapping came together to form message. Who is the man standing behind everyone? Sheyreiza did not know and for the moment did not care. She ignored Inthara’s tapping.
“An effective force.” Alustriel mused.
“Yes,” Sheyreiza agreed, “in the dark, very effective. Open field, in daylight, less so.”
“I fear there will be little daylight during these battles.” Alustriel said despondently.
“Bad for you, good for us.” Sheyreiza replied.
“Bad for all of us.” Alustriel corrected. “They are much stronger in the dark. But, there is little we can do about that.” Sheyreiza had to admit the High Lady was probably right. It would have been better to meet the Shades in daylight even if that meant the drow would fight at a handicap; the handicap to the Shades would be far worse.
Hignar was not so despondent. “Makin' Shades 'fraid o'there own shadows has appeal.” Sheyreiza thought she saw a grin trying to come out of hiding beneath the beard of the usually grumpy dwarf. It appealed to her as well. The Shades were to be respected, that was true, but the drow had been mastering the dark for 10,000 years – millennia before ancient Netheril ever rose. Perhaps they could teach the Shadows a thing or two.
They discussed scouts, spies and reinforcements further but the basic plan seemed acceptable to Alustriel and the allies present. “I will need to discuss this with the others, once King Battlehammer arrives.” Alustriel said.
This caught Sheyreiza’s attention. She had thought Alustriel’s power unchecked and undisputed here. Perhaps this was not so? Or perhaps Alustriel did not like the plan as much as she had led on. Sheyreiza knew what this alliance would cost and she was not going to take one more step in furtherance of forging it unless she was sure the surfacers truly wanted it. “Ah, so, you are not sure if you wish this alliance then?” Sheyreiza asked.
“I believe it will benefit, but I am beholden to my other cities as well.” Alustriel said.
The answer disappointed Sheyreiza. If Alustriel did not have the authority to treat with Sheyreiza, who did? Had surfacers never heard of rulers with authority? Inthara was still tapping to Sheyreiza, inquiring as to the man at the back. Sheyreiza knew only one thing could catch Inthara’s attention so sharply and that was a dragon. The sorceress must suspect the man was a dragon in human form. Though paranoid, Inthara’s instinct was often very good when it came to dragons. Sheyreiza did not recognize the man but she marked his appearance. I do not know who the man is. Sheyreiza told Inthara in the drow sign language.
Alustriel continued to speak. “King Warcrown, Helm Dwarf-Friend, High Captain Haskar, and King Battlehammer must also agree.”
“I find it hard to believe they will,” Sheyreiza said through an ironic smile, “though, I would have found it hard to believe all these people could occupy this hall peacefully.”
“How long do you think this would take, ideally?” Alustriel asked, concern creeping into her voice.
“A while.” Sheyreiza answered simply. “I have certain preparations I have to make,” she elaborated, “then I have to travel to Chen Nasad and Menzoberranzan.”
The high lady began to pace as she considered Sheyreiza’s answer. “The Shadovar attack shortly.”
Then, lady, do not waste time, Sheyreiza thought, make a decision. Inthara kept tapping messages to Sheyreiza but Sheyreiza ignored the sorceress. Inthara’s concern about dragons and the man in back was simply not as important as the negotiation with Alustriel.
The High Lady stopped pacing and looked to Sheyreiza. “Then I agree to this plan. I will convince the rest, and if not, the Shadovar will convince them.”
There it was then. Agreement. An offer had been extended, a plan proposed, and now, the highest authority the sufacers knew agreed to the terms. An accord was nigh, but Sheyreiza had to be sure of Alustriel. On Sheyreiza’s end the price of this accord was not one that could be recouped if the other side had a change of heart. This was no compact to enter in lightly, no merchant’s contract whose breach would be settled in coin or trade goods. This was a solemn pact whose very enactment would cost at least one soul and probably several not too mention all the lives that would be lost in its formation. Though the terms of this accord would likely never be written on any parchment, paper or stone, the covenants would be spelled out in blood and sealed by the dooms of its signers. Sheyreiza looked Alustriel in the eye and stepped forward to stand toe to toe with the High Lady. Armed bodyguards reached for sword hilts but no blades or blood was yet drawn. The hall was silent.
Sheyreiza held the Queen’s gaze as the guards held their positions and Alustriel held her tongue. Around the two women the others looked on. Sheyreiza broke the silence at last. “Do I have your word upon your faith in this?” Sheyreiza’s voice was little more than hiss. “This alliance will claim my soul, Mistress of Silverymoon.”
“How so?” Alustriel asked, her brows turning to a concerned frown.
Blue and red eyes narrowed to mere slits as Sheyreiza answered. “I cannot go back to Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan as a priestess of Eilistraee.” She glanced briefly at the drow priestess behind Alustriel, then back to the high lady.
The Queen understood Sheyreiza immediately. “You are willing to do this?” She asked. “I will not ask it of you if it is not entirely your decision.”
Sheyreiza was glad for the Queen’s recognition and concern. It showed she understood the gravity of Sheyreiza’s situation, of the cost this accord would exact. Sheryeiza was resolute however, so long as her would be allies were. “I am willing to do this.” She looked away. “I have my reasons.” And she did. Long had she felt Lolth in her heart, long had the darkness sought to envelop her. Once, she had believed herself truly free of the Spider Queen, but time and circumstance had undermined that belief: Jain’n’s betrayal; Qilue’s weakness; Sadei’s death; and above all, the failure of Eilistraee to show Sheyreiza any real hope for the drow people. Sheyreiza never doubted the good in Eilistraee’s divine heart, but she had come to believe that for all her goodness, Eilistraee was not to be the savior of the drow – Lolth was their mother, and only Lolth could keep them from being exterminated by their enemies. Evil, insane, and cruel, Lolth was, nonetheless, strong. Strong enough to keep the Seldarine, the fairy elves, the duergar, the illithid, the eye-tyrants, the orcs, the dragons, the aboleth, the humans and all other enemies at bay for ten millennia. Eilistraee could not even keep a handful of her followers in the Promenade alive for a few centuries.
Alustriel turned to the masked man in black. “Our alliance has been faithful and productive, has it not, Manshoon?”
“You have held your end of our bargain to the letter.” He replied without emotion.
The High Lady looked back at Sheyreiza. “If the drow honor this agreement, we shall as well. You have my word. If they turn on us, we will defend ourselves, but that is all.”
Sheyreiza bowed her head in gratitude. “Of course. Bela'dos malla Ilharess.” She closed her eyes tightly, then nodded ever so slightly. They had an accord. Sheyreiza opened her eyes and stared at Alustriel. “You are not what I expected.” She said with a faint smile.
“Neither are you.” The Queen responded. “I apologize for the rudeness you have encountered here, and will continue to encounter. We are not bad people, we are just wary.”
“It is alright,” Sheyreiza said sadly, “we earned it.” The people’s natural wariness was something that Alustriel should foster, not subvert. When the Shades were gone, the folk of the surface would be better served by fear of the drow than by trusting in them. The others discussed accommodations but Sheyreiza’s mind was on the future. She might lose her soul over this but she had not lost it yet. There was still good she could do before slipping back into darkness’ embrace. She looked to Higgy and Alustriel. “Something to keep in mind.” She said, interrupting them. “No matter what I do for you. No matter what they do to help. In the end, should we survive this war, we will still be drow. And I will not be who I am now. Do not forget.”
Behind Sheyreiza, Inthara covered her face with her hands and fought back tears. Slowly Alustriel nodded. “I will not.” The Queen said. “These are alliances of convenience. Perhaps the seeds of something greater, some day, but not now.”
“May we survive so long as to be enemies again.” Sheyreiza said. She smiled once more, bitter sweetly and bowed. Alustriel gave Sheyreiza and Inthara papers identifying them as allies of Silverymoon, though she cautioned Sheyreiza that when she returned the mythal would not allow her to enter the city. There was some discussion of the other allies in the works, Sembians and dragons, and then the group broke up.
Outside, Inthara squinted in the light of a street lamp that blazed brilliantly overhead against the dark night sky. Sheyreiza, Hignar and Nikie followed the sorceress out of the palace and into Silverymoon’s streets. Snow fell slowly and silently about the foursome.
“So... 'hat went well, aye?” Hignar asked, his voice carrying a note of cheerful hope.
“Yes.” Sheyreiza said softly, all hope for cheer long since having fled.
“Seemed to.” Nikie agreed.
Hignar nodded. “Nikie 'nd I will get her supplies soon 'nd be back, then you three 'r ready to go.”
“I will not be taking Butterfly with me.” Sheyreiza announced as she looked up into the night sky.
The dwarf was obviously puzzled. “Hmmm?”
Was it so hard for him to see? Even a thick-headed dwarf should have seen this coming, Sheyreiza thought. “If I do, the Matron's will ask for her heart.” Sheyreiza looked down at the frowning dwarf. “And I will have to give it to them.” She said matter-of-factly.
“Xas.” Inthara agreed. She knew this was coming, even if she had said nothing until now. “A test.”
“They won't ask fer Nikie's, aye?” Hignar asked.
Sheyreiza smiled softly. Hignar’s concern for his friend was touching and it warmed against the cold snow and the even colder future. Whatever she might believe about Hignar, she believed he was loyal to his friends, even if not to his god. “No.” She answered. “Nikie is neither a heretic nor an apostate. She is just human. Iblith to them. They will not care who she worships.”
“Nor is she dear to Shey.” Inthara said. And there it was. The truth. The Spider Queen would not tolerate anyone in Sheyreiza’s heart save for the Spider Queen. Anyone Sheyreiza held dear Sheyreiza would have to sacrifice if at all possible. For their sake, she had to leave them all behind; Inthara, Shein’n, Vraja, Gryndal, everyone she actually cared about.
The gruff dwarf looked to Sheyreiza with sad eyes. “When this 's all done, I hope ye come back to yer current faith.”
“I will not want to.” Sheyreiza replied. His concern was genuine, she could feel it, but there was little she could do to give him hope. She knew she was Lolth’s, even now, and once she gave herself back to the Dark Mother fully there would be no leaving her again. Not even in death. “Hignar, in the days ahead I am likely going to do things that you will not like. When this is all said and done, no matter what happens, do not think too ill of me.”
The grey haired dwarf nodded slowly. “I know a sacrifice o'one's soul.”
Sheyreiza looked back up at the snow falling out of the night sky. It was beautiful. She found it every bit as wondrous as she had the first time she had seen a snowfall at night near the village of Tervale more than a decade ago. Her first night on the surface. Her first encounter with wild humans. Her first death. “The first time I died, it was night and it was snowing.” She looked down to the snow at her feet, remembering those that had fallen before that fateful night so long ago; each falling like snowflakes, one by one, to be subsumed in the cold white winterscape of the north. Silently, Sheyreiza walked away from the others into the dark of Silverymoon’s streets.
Hignar looked up into the sky and then at the form of the drow priestess as she faded into the darkness. “So's the second time.” He said quietly.
Inthara made her goodbyes to Hignar and Nikie and followed Sheyreiza into the streets. The human and the dwarf watched in silence until they could no longer see the drow women.
“Time to go, Nikie.” Hignar said. They had to secure the Sembian alliance and gather Nikie’s supplies which would be used to bribed the Matrons. There was much work to be done.
“Aye.” The black clad woman said, still staring into the darkness.
“The deadline waits fer no one.” The dwarf grumbled with a frown. He spared a last look down the darkened lane where the drow had walked. “Damn this war for the souls its cost.” He shook his head angrily and began his casting.
***
Sheyreiza stood naked on the grassy lawn of one of Silverymoon’s parks. The green blades of grass were disappearing under the falling snow but Sheyreiza could feel them beneath her feet. She held only her sword, and she wore naught but her warming stone from Lonelywood and her symbol of Eilistraee. Behind Sheyreiza, Inthara stood watching in silence.
“I want to dance one last time sister.” Sheyreiza said her voice but a hoarse whisper.
Inthara stripped off her robes and joined Sheyreiza, naked save for her own blade and holy symbol. In unison they raised their swords to the moon above. False dawn had come and morning was near but the moon was still visible between the dark grey clouds that hid most of the deep blue sky. Sheyreiza sang a short prayer song asking for Eilistraee’s blessing and Inthara joined in harmony. The prayer done, the women lowered their swords. Sheyreiza took a deep breath. The song she was about sing she had never sung aloud before though she had sung it to Eilistraee a thousand times at least. It was her Flame Song. There were three periods of song in a normal day at the Promenade of Eilistraee; the Grand Chorus, the central ceremony for the temple during which all available would gather to sing to the Goddess; the Call of Eilistraee, a haunting melody sung by a senior priestess to call the faithful back to the caverns after a cycle of work in which others would join as the left off their chores and traveled back; and the Flame Songs. A Flame Song was performed by an individual priestesses when the priestess was moved to do so, dancing around a candle or other flame. The Flame Song was personal, taking any form desired, and ended when the flame died. At the Promenade, it was considered the height of rudeness for a priestess to deliberately interrupt the Flame Song of another, though trespassing outsiders and nonbelievers were usually forgiven for their ignorance. Priestesses usually tried to find an alcove or passage where they could be alone to make their Flame Song. A visitor to the Promenade visiting at the right time might hear the eerily beautiful echoes of half-a-dozen or more of these solos at once, drifting down various passages and in side caverns and rooms.
Sheyreiza’s Flame Song had always had words but she had never sung them. For her three years in the promenade she performed her Flame Song silently, singing to Lady Silverhair in her mind, the only outward expression of her melody the dance she would perform around a candle. She had always expected the Flame Song to be her death song, and so she saved the words for her Final Dance. The time had come. Tonight, now, here on this snow covered lawn in this strange, surface city, she was going to dance her Final Dance. There would be no light from above however, as there was when the old priestesses went to their Final Dance. Eilistraee would not be coming for Sheyreiza to make her young again, to lift her up into the sky on divine wings as she danced for the last time in her ascent to the green fields of Arvandor. No, when this Final Dance was done, Sheyreiza would still be in this world. It was not Eilistraee that was coming for her, it was Lolth. There would be no peaceful, beautiful ending for Sheyreiza. Her path was darker now. Her path would be violent; her death, bloody and ugly.
Sheyreiza began to hum the tune. She had no candle so she brought to light divine darkfire on her blade. Inthara, an experienced dancer in her own right, accompanied Sheyreiza. In the drow societies of Menzoberranzan and Ched Nasad it was forbidden to dance while armed. In addition to all the unintentional mishaps that might occur, the potential for assassination was too great. Amongst the followers of Lady Eilistraee, however, there was no such restriction. Sheyreiza and Inthara danced with their swords, Inthara’s naked blade glittering under the magical lamplights of the city and reflecting the fire engulfing Sheyreiza’s weapon. Sheyreiza broke into song and Inthara followed in harmony. The sorceress did not know Sheyreiza’s Flame Song but she could follow nonetheless. Their elven voices held sadness and grief that human voices simply could not capture. The drow words lifted across the streets and shutters opened as the residents sought to see what creatures could produce a tune of such profound loss, resolve and melancholy. There in the streets before them danced two exquisitely beautiful drow, exotic in their otherworldly form, frightening in their deadly dance, heartbreaking in their alien song.
As the sky lightened the tune grew faster and the dancing more frenetic. The women’s blades slashed and turned as their bodies gyrated, swayed, leapt and spun. Though they moved closely they moved without hesitation, their razor sharp blades slipping past their silken skin time and time again by a hair’s breadth but never less. For all its apparent violence, it was a bloodless, beautiful dance of love not hate. The song rose to a crescendo and Sheyreiza rose with it. Had this been an ancient priestess’s final dance, this is when Eilistraee might have lifted her up in a beam of silvery radiance and taken her to the green lands of Arvandor, but this was no such moment. Sheyreiza leapt but no divinity caught her, no goddess lifted her up, no salvation was forthcoming. She came to the ground, flaming sword sweeping down from on high like some bloody solar descending from the heavens with righteous wrath, but as she landed, the darkfire of blade was extinguished, the moon was lost to the light of dawn, and the green grass beneath her feet was no longer visible beneath its cold blanket of snow. Sheyreiza’s Final Dance was over.
Inthara’s dance had come to an end as well. Sheyreiza did not look at her but spoke as the two women kneeled, exhausted, on the snowy field. “I love you.” She said simply. “I should have told you that more often.” Tears welled up in Sheyreiza’s eyes.
“I love you too, my Heart.” Inthara said, her voice beginning to break. “Our time is at an end. Goddess, I'll miss you my Heart.”
“And I will miss you.” Sheyreiza said softly. “You have been my conscience and heart for many years.”
Inthara wiped tears from her eyes. “Always remember me, please.” Inthara began weeping.
“I will never forget you.” Sheyreiza said, comforting her. The two women hugged on the snow covered lawn. “And you, please, remember me when I was...better. Our good years in Lonelywood.”
Inthara sniffled and nodded. “For the time we have left, can you just hold me? Please?”
“Yes.” Sheyreiza took Inthara in her arms and held her as she cried. She watched the sun climb from the horizon into the cloudy, gray sky and wondered how many more sunrises she might see, if any. In the east, a darkness was coming for the folk of the Silvermarches, but a different darkness was coming for Sheyreiza. One she could not escape or defeat, but one she had to embrace. Soon.
The journey from the Dragon Isle in the midst of the Sea of Fallen Stars to the outskirts of Silverymoon took far less time than the journey from Waterdeep to Immurk’s Hold though the journeys were roughly the same distance as the dragon flies. Indeed, the journey to Silverymoon took less than time than a stroll down the beaches of Grogsong. Hignar used his most powerful divine spells to transport himself, Nikie Stitch, Inthara and Sheyreiza instantly to a mountain pass just outside the so called ‘Gem of the North.’ He explained that the pass was as close as the wards of the city would allow them to teleport. From the pass it was but a short walk to the gates. Sheyreiza did not expect much, having been less than impressed with Waterdeep, Immurk’s Hold, and the other human cities she had seen but Silverymoon was different. The delicate, beautiful hand of elven artistry was evident everywhere, though the city was certainly as human as it was elven. The beauty gave Sheyreiza little comfort though; in the polished armor of the city’s knights and the white marble of its stately edifices Sheyreiza saw only the reflection of the light that would soon be lost to her.
The folk of Silverymoon did not attack Sheyreiza and Inthara, but they did not greet them with open arms either. Spellguards and knights approached and challenged, while common citizens scowled and scurried aside. The first human who regarded with Sheyreiza with curiosity and treated her with some measure of decorum rather than fear and hatred was a cartographer. Sheyreiza purchased maps of the city and neighboring region from him as he explained his curious nature often overcame his instinctual fear. Sheyreiza was grateful for the respite from the prejudice of the other surfacers but she knew the cartographer would have been better served in life to allow his instincts to check his curiosity.
After reporting to the powers that be, Hignar guided Inthara and Sheyreiza on a tour of the city’s libraries, stores and other sights including the fabled Moonbridge. Even Sheyreiza, normally reluctant to express any sense of awe, had to admit the Moonbridge was impressive. Though less spectacular to the naked eye, to a warrior or trained spellcaster, the sight of many golems marching through the streets including some made entirely of mithral was even more impressive. Hignar, Inthara and Sheyreiza followed one such patrol of enchanted constructs as they pounded their way down the streets cracking cobblestones as they went. The golems were led by a Silverymoon Spellguard, who brought them to one of the city gates. The Spellguard explained to Hignar they were placing the golems as traps for the coming shadovar. Sheyreiza was impressed by the wealth and magic it took to make so many golems, but she was not hopeful regarding their power to stop the shade army. While golems were certainly immune to most magic, they were also incapable of catching and killing a powerful arcanist. The golems would help stand against the mundane armies of the shades, but it was not the mundane armies of the shades that worried Sheyreiza. It was their damn spellcasters.
The trio passed through the city gate and Hignar led them to Winter Edge, a settlement that had been destroyed by the Shades. Shrouded in an unnatural darkness, the place was in complete ruins with barely a stone left standing. There were no bodies or skeletons visible, leading Sheyreiza to assume the Shades were animating the fallen and enslaving the captured. She expected nothing less. Hignar retrieved a misshapen lump of rock that had once been a carefully chiseled brick from the stronghold. He showed it to Sheyreiza as evidence of the power of the shades. A single spell had leveled the settlement – a single spell so powerful it melted stone across the entire village. A shadow interrupted their investigation. Hignar killed it quickly and the trio withdrew only to come under fire from a flying arcanist. Dwarven constitution and drow reflexes kept the trio alive as they fled the dark ruins and its watchers.
Upon their return to Silverymoon an agent of the Queen approached and bid them to the palace to see Alustriel herself. The time had come to see what the surfacers were really about. Hignar led the two drow women through the wide, sterile streets to the palace, past the guards in their gleaming armor and through the narrow gates in the stone walls. All took notice of the two drow entering, but no one challenged them or their dwarven chaperone. In the palace they were greeted by Alustriel’s courtiers and ushered into a throne room of sorts. At the far end of the room Sheyreiza could see a crowd gathered. Hignar began speaking but Sheyreiza ignored him. Hignar might be a high priest, perhaps even a king amongst dwarves, but the real power was there in the midst of the crowd; a human woman, regally dressed, casually carrying on conversation with a masked man in black, a bald man in red and a drow woman whose red eyes set afire at the sight of Sheyreiza approaching. Sheyreiza had no doubt who this human woman was; the de facto ruler of the Silvermarches, the Queen of Courtly Love, the High Lady Alustriel.
Sheyreiza approached without fear. She had been in the presence of a goddesses Chosen before, namely Qilue Veladorn, and Sheyreiza was not impressed. Though outwardly the radiantly beautiful, six foot tall, silver haired Qilue appeared like nothing short of a goddess, years of familiarity had bred only contempt in Sheyreiza’s heart for the Chosen of Eilistraee. Sheyreiza hoped Alustriel would prove less disappointing but she was prepared to find another flawed jewel of a matriarch. It was the drow woman who met Sheyreiza’s gaze first, however, and Sheyreiza’s eyes narrowed in response. No one had mentioned Alustriel already having drow allies. Though as keen of sight as any drow, Sheyreiza could not discern any visible sign of affiliation on the black clad drow. Whom did this woman worship? Eilistraee? Vhaerun? Certainly not Lolth? If so, Sheyreiza’s value was far less than she had thought and this situation would not easily be turned to her advantage.
Conversation halted as Sheyreiza approached. Hignar and Inthara followed behind her but let Sheyreiza approach first. Alustriel turned from the masked man in black and looked upon Sheyreiza with a smile. “Welcome.” Said the High Lady warmly.
Sheyreiza bowed her head in respect. “Malla Ilharess,” she said in her native drow language. “Honored Matriarch,” she offered as a translation. It was not precisely accurate, but it was the most respectful title Sheyreiza could give to Alustriel in drow. A shape moved behind the crowd and Sheyreiza saw an illithid, a mind-flayer, moving amongst Alustriel’s courtiers and attendants.
“Before we continue,” Alustriel said, hands extended, “I would like to ensure these conditions are agreeable, and introduce the others here.” She turned to the bald man in the crimson robes who looked out periodically with suspicious eyes from a down cast face. “This is Edwin Odesseiron, representative of the Red Wizards.” The human male muttered something but Sheyreiza ignored him.
Alustriel turned to another human male standing rigidly in a confident juxtaposition to the hunched, muttering red wizard beside him. “Tearn Hornblade, this city's leader.” Turning to the drow woman, Alustriel held out her hand. “Priestess Do'ana of Eilistraee.” She gestured next to the masked man in black. “Manshoon, of the Zhentarim.” Sheyreiza had not only heard of the Zhentarim, she had heard of Manshoon. Was he not one of their highest leaders? Perhaps their founder? Her human-lore was not what it had been when she had been a student at Zhennu Orbb and she found herself unable to place this Manshoon precisely. Nevertheless, she felt it likely he was someone of importance and power amongst the humans. There were others in attendance but they went without introduction. Sheyreiza assumed them to be the courtiers, bodyguards or servants of the leaders who had been named. Finally, Alustriel turned to the Illithid. “I have also asked Shz'ratilk to observe and ensure that only the truth is spoken here.” She said gesturing to the tentacle faced monstrosity. “Is this acceptable?”
It most certainly was not acceptable to Sheyreiza. It seemed her worst fears about the quality of Alustriel were about to be confirmed. For a moment Sheyreiza wondered if this negotiation would fall apart if she protested. She had to proceed carefully here. “You entrust the truth to a Priest of Madness?” Sheyreiza asked Alustriel incredulously.
“He is an ally.” The high lady responded neutrally. “He has provided us with weapons and intelligence regarding the Shadovar.”
Hignar spoke up. “We've met. He's an ally.”
Sheyreiza eyed the illithid and a moment later she felt his thoughts in her head. Greetings, the creature said through its telepathy.
Get out of my head, Priest of Madness, and stay out, Sheyreiza answered angrily. She no longer cared if the negotiation would fall apart. She would not treat with anyone under such conditions; she would never willingly give a priest of madness access to her mind. She turned to Alustriel. “He is in my head, and I do not like that.
Inthara nodded. “Xas.”
Alustriel addressed the tall, slender illithid. “You will only read surface thoughts. Lies or truth, that is all.
The illithid responded audibly. “Yesss.”
Sheyreiza was not so easily appeased, however. The drow of the Underdark had a long and bitter history with the illithid. “It was one such advisor and ally as he who betrayed Menzoberranzan's Matron Baenre to her death, more or less.”
A frown crossed Hignar’s face. “I thought she 'as still 'live?”
Alustriel tilted her head slightly. “If you find it necessary, I will send him on his way.”
“I would prefer it, Honored Lady.” Sheyreiza said evenly.
“Then you may go,” Alustriel said to Shz'ratilk, “remember what we discussed.”
Sheyreiza watched the illithid leave, her eyes literally burning with hate and mistrust. There were few creatures she despised as much as illithid. ‘Remember what we discussed’? Alustriel had allowed her pet to be dismissed too easily. Sheyreiza had little doubt that the illithid would be stationed in a nearby room with orders to read the minds of those negotiating with the High Lady. While Manshoon and this red wizard might have known that and might have taken suitable precautions, Hignar had given Sheyreiza no such warning. Accordingly, she had little but her own ferocity with which to keep the probing psyche of the illithid at bay. Still, Alustriel had acceded to her wishes publicly even if she was likely keeping the illithid near. Sheyreiza would have to give public respect to the public acquiescence. Turning to the High Lady, Sheyreiza bowed her head. “Bela'dos Malla Ilharess. Thank you honored lady.”
“I do not trust him myself,” Alustriel said openly, “but so far we seem to be on the same side. And as you are aware by your presence here, any allies we can get are welcome.”
“So I see.” Sheyreiza responded curtly. She looked to the others. “I have met Red Wizards and Zhentarim in the past, but only in battle.”
“Monkeys,” muttered the red wizard Odesseiron, his eyes darting away from the others as if scanning the floor for something lost.
Alustriel gestured to the others around her. “These have agreed to assist us. It is mutually beneficial, of course, but allies nevertheless.”
“If the ruins I had seen did not impress upon me the desperate nature of this fight, this tableau before my eyes has done so.” Sheyreiza said truthfully. Only true desperation could have brought such forces together in any semblance of cooperation.
Alustriel nodded. “So you have seen Winter Edge?”
“I have.” Sheyreiza replied.
Hignar held up the melted stone he had taken. “What's left of it.”
“Then I need not relate so many details on our foe.” Alustriel said grimly. “May I ask where you two are from, originally?”
Sheyreiza though it odd that the High Lady did not already know. Was she not a chosen of Mystra? Had not Hignar informed her of all they had said? Perhaps the dwarf was as curt with her as he was with them. “We are from Ched Nasad by birth.” Sheyreiza answered. Inthara nodded but kept silent. “Though the body I wear now is from Menzoberranzan, except for the eye.” She gestured to her sapphire orb. “That is from elsewhere.”
Alustriel nodded but her face was anything but agreeable. “Menzoberranzan I have more experience with.” Said the High Lady.
Sheyreiza restrained a smile. “None pleasant I would assume.”
“No.” Alustriel admitted. “They have tried to kill me on numerous occasions, most recently during their last invasion.”
“Mithrial Hall.” Inthara muttered.
“I was with the detachments at Mithril Hall.” Alustriel said defiantly. “They stopped trying to strike us here in Silverymoon many years ago.”
“I see.” Sheyreiza said, again restraining a smile. The High Lady’s ego was apparently of a size commensurate with her position if she had taken to regarding the attack on Mithril Hall as an attempt on her life. Such was the ego of Matriarchs everywhere it seemed.
Alustriel continued. “My experience with them is that they are very intelligent, among their other attributes. I believe the success of this venture hinges on that. They must be made to realize that, for all of our history, we will make much better neighbors than the Shadovar. And I believe that is why they would fight. Is that accurate?”
“Maybe learned 'here lesson 'bout Mithril Hall likewise.” Hignar grumbled.
Sheyreiza could no longer restrain her smile and a grin split her delicate face. “They are intelligent and Mithril Hall was lost to them because the Spider Queen wanted their matrons dead more than she wanted the dwarves dead.” She considered Alustriel’s last question for a moment. “Is that accurate? Yes and no. I believe I can convince them of the very real nature of the threat.”
“And now you see why I need your advice.” Alustriel said. “Please continue.”
There was never much doubt in Sheyreiza’s mind as to why Alustriel needed her advice; only doubt as to the veracity of the need. Until Sheyreiza had seen Winter Edge and then this gathering of leaders from the Silvermarches, the Zhentarim and the Red Wizards, Sheyreiza had still thought this might be a ruse to draw out the armies of Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan to destroy them. Now she believed in the threat of the Shades and in the desperation of those who stood in their dark path. “I think I stand a fair chance of getting them to contribute to the fight.” Sheyreiza said confidently. “You will not get a great outpouring of their strength, but I believe I can bring a force worth considering.” Even a few hundred drow, if properly used, could be devastating. “Menzoberranzan has recovered from Mithril Hall, or so my adopted family has told me, and they still have mercenaries; perhaps the best in all Faerun.”
Alustriel knew immediately of whom Sheyreiza spoke. “Bregan D'aerthe, yes?”
“Among some, xas.” Inthara answered.
Sheyreiza nodded. “Xas, Bregan D'arthe.” She confirmed. “Also, Ched Nasad is and has been for many centuries larger and stronger than Menzoberranzan, though Ched's mercenaries are not as famous.” Sheyreiza paused for a moment and looked amongst the gathered courtiers. The red wizard was muttering something about Jarlaxle of Bregan D’Arthe being a bastard monkey. Sheyreiza was impressed the Red Wizard knew of the mercenary leader but the red wizard’s insistence at referring to drow as monkey’s was comical at best. Racial derision from a human was beneath pathetic and there was no point in returning insult for insult when Sheyreiza could wait just a few short decades and watch the human either wither and die or sell his soul into undeath in some misguided attempt to cling to this world. If there was a monkey in the room, it was him, and he was just too stupid to know it. Sheyreiza felt no need to educate him on his place in the order of things; time would do that soon enough. Sheyreiza just smiled at the bald wizard, winked, then addressed Alustriel. “They will not come for 'goodness' or even to save you. They will come to save themselves, and for Shadovar slaves.”
“Indeed.” Alustriel responded. “From what I have been told by those who have allied with the drow before, as long as they benefit, they will be loyal to the alliance.”
“We are usually pragmatic,” Sheyreiza said, nodding in agreement. She omitted, however, to mention that what the drow view as benefits might not be what the surfacers would think. The ultimate benefit for the drow of Ched Nasad or Menzoberranzan was the favor of Lolth, and if betraying the surfacers meant gaining or keeping the favor of Lolth, the drow would do it in a heartbeat even though such betrayal might be tactically or economically unsound. The surfacers were not mindful enough of the gods. Hignar’s willingness to be raised from the dead by a Yathtallar of Lolth proved that if nothing else. The faith of these people was as pale as their skin. It was not surprising then, that they would see ‘benefit’ in terms of only strategy, such as defeating the shades, and economics, such as gaining slaves, while missing the most important third leg of this most unstable tripod – the favor of the Spider Queen.
“And the mercenaries, I assume, will be loyal as long as they are paid, yes?” Alustriel inquired.
Sheyreiza shrugged slightly. “The mercenaries, Bregan D'Arthe will be loyal to coin, unless the Baenre, the Spider Queen or circumstances dictate otherwise.”
This caught Hignar’s attention. “What kinda circumstance?” Asked the gruff dwarf.
Sheyreiza thought it best to be truthful here, or at least as truthful as she could be; all that she knew of Bregan D’Arthe was second hand, so it was all just compiled rumor and innuendo. Still, there were some stories that sounded and felt true. “When Lolth abandoned Matron Baenre in the fight for Mithral Hall, Jaraxle and his mercenaries abandoned the field.” Or so Sheyreiza had heard. It sounded likely, so she repeated it as if it was fact. It would be best for the surfacers if they did not place too much trust in any of the drow, even the mercenaries. “In short, when circumstances indicate defeat is inevitable, Jarlaxle will be the first to withdraw.”
“What of the other mercenaries?” Alustriel asked. “The same?”
“Those of Ched? Less competent, more loyal.” Sheyreiza answered. Again, she did not know if it was really true, but it was her best guess. These surfacers kept probing her for the boundaries of drow ‘trust’ and in so doing, convinced her they did not really know their subterranean cousins as much as Sheyreiza would have thought. Like children, they needed instruction. “All drow loyalty is a thing of circumstance.” She told them.
“Indeed, so if we are to do this, we must ensure they continue to benefit.” Alustriel stated.
“That would be wise.” Sheyreiza replied, though she knew it would be impossible for the surfacers to ensure anything of the sort. The Spider Queen would see to that. Sheyreiza saw no point to mentioning that yet though.
“However, we must ensure they do not benefit too much.” The High Lady added.
Sheyreiza smiled. “Wiser still.” And it was, if Alustriel really understood what it meant. Of course, the High Lady did not evidence any understanding of what really motivated the drow of Menzoberranzan and Ched Nasad despite having waged a shadow war with them for decades. Sheyreiza could try to explain it, but the human obsession with coin and temporal power would never let her see the truth; the drow would do what the Spider Queen wanted, no matter what the economic or strategic results were.
“How do you plan to acquire this alliance?” Alustriel asked.
Sheyreiza was relieved to get on with the details of the plan. “I will approach one house I have a connection to in each city. Faen Tlabbar in Menzoberranzan, where this body is the body of a Princess. Auvryndar in Ched Nasad, where this soul is the soul of a Princess. I will offer to the Matrons of those two houses my trade contacts here on the surface and present to them samples of things available here. Perfumes, woods, spices...”
Alustriel interrupted. “No weapons or magic of any sort.”
Sheyreiza had to contain a derisive snort. “We make better weapons, and for the most part, better magic.” She smiled. “Though your mythal is impressive.”
The High Lady nodded. “I simply wanted to be clear. Nothing that would benefit them in war against us later.”
The most valuable thing the drow stood to gain was knowledge. No sword, no scroll, no wand could compete in value with simply learning the surface realm’s layout, strengths and weaknesses. Can you not see that, ‘High Lady’? Do you not realize what you are getting into? Sheyreiza set those thoughts aside and continued laying out her plan. “With the Matron's greed enticed, I will use the respective matrons to call a meeting of their ruling councils. I will present the threat and the opportunity. No matter how much they hate you, and they do, they will see the logic even if they do not want to heed it. So, I present the other opportunity - the chance to take many Shadovar slaves without worrying about war with you.” Alustriel nodded as Sheyreiza continued. “There are also other benefits, such as the opportunity to send Houses or forces the matrons do not like on streega – suicide - missions.”
“Politics, as always.” Alustriel noted astutely.
“With a vengeance.” Sheyreiza added. She held up her hands. “That is the basic plan.”
“How many soldiers do you think could be gotten, realistically?” The High Lady asked.
Inthara put a hand on Sheyreiza’s shoulder and tapped as Sheyreiza gave some consideration to Alustriel’s question. It was a question Sheyreiza had been asking herself for days now and she was still not sure how the matron’s would respond. “To start with, while they are still considering the threat? A battalion from each city, which is 500 to a 1000. Plus mercenaries, which for Bregan D'arthe means 100 maybe a 150. For Ched, mercenaries, more, but of less quality.” She paused and then remembered the obvious. “Oh, and slave troops perhaps double that number.” The drow did not use drow as fodder when there were other creatures available to serve that purpose. Like the folk of the Silvermarches, Zhentarim and Red Wizards.
Inthara’s tapping came together to form message. Who is the man standing behind everyone? Sheyreiza did not know and for the moment did not care. She ignored Inthara’s tapping.
“An effective force.” Alustriel mused.
“Yes,” Sheyreiza agreed, “in the dark, very effective. Open field, in daylight, less so.”
“I fear there will be little daylight during these battles.” Alustriel said despondently.
“Bad for you, good for us.” Sheyreiza replied.
“Bad for all of us.” Alustriel corrected. “They are much stronger in the dark. But, there is little we can do about that.” Sheyreiza had to admit the High Lady was probably right. It would have been better to meet the Shades in daylight even if that meant the drow would fight at a handicap; the handicap to the Shades would be far worse.
Hignar was not so despondent. “Makin' Shades 'fraid o'there own shadows has appeal.” Sheyreiza thought she saw a grin trying to come out of hiding beneath the beard of the usually grumpy dwarf. It appealed to her as well. The Shades were to be respected, that was true, but the drow had been mastering the dark for 10,000 years – millennia before ancient Netheril ever rose. Perhaps they could teach the Shadows a thing or two.
They discussed scouts, spies and reinforcements further but the basic plan seemed acceptable to Alustriel and the allies present. “I will need to discuss this with the others, once King Battlehammer arrives.” Alustriel said.
This caught Sheyreiza’s attention. She had thought Alustriel’s power unchecked and undisputed here. Perhaps this was not so? Or perhaps Alustriel did not like the plan as much as she had led on. Sheyreiza knew what this alliance would cost and she was not going to take one more step in furtherance of forging it unless she was sure the surfacers truly wanted it. “Ah, so, you are not sure if you wish this alliance then?” Sheyreiza asked.
“I believe it will benefit, but I am beholden to my other cities as well.” Alustriel said.
The answer disappointed Sheyreiza. If Alustriel did not have the authority to treat with Sheyreiza, who did? Had surfacers never heard of rulers with authority? Inthara was still tapping to Sheyreiza, inquiring as to the man at the back. Sheyreiza knew only one thing could catch Inthara’s attention so sharply and that was a dragon. The sorceress must suspect the man was a dragon in human form. Though paranoid, Inthara’s instinct was often very good when it came to dragons. Sheyreiza did not recognize the man but she marked his appearance. I do not know who the man is. Sheyreiza told Inthara in the drow sign language.
Alustriel continued to speak. “King Warcrown, Helm Dwarf-Friend, High Captain Haskar, and King Battlehammer must also agree.”
“I find it hard to believe they will,” Sheyreiza said through an ironic smile, “though, I would have found it hard to believe all these people could occupy this hall peacefully.”
“How long do you think this would take, ideally?” Alustriel asked, concern creeping into her voice.
“A while.” Sheyreiza answered simply. “I have certain preparations I have to make,” she elaborated, “then I have to travel to Chen Nasad and Menzoberranzan.”
The high lady began to pace as she considered Sheyreiza’s answer. “The Shadovar attack shortly.”
Then, lady, do not waste time, Sheyreiza thought, make a decision. Inthara kept tapping messages to Sheyreiza but Sheyreiza ignored the sorceress. Inthara’s concern about dragons and the man in back was simply not as important as the negotiation with Alustriel.
The High Lady stopped pacing and looked to Sheyreiza. “Then I agree to this plan. I will convince the rest, and if not, the Shadovar will convince them.”
There it was then. Agreement. An offer had been extended, a plan proposed, and now, the highest authority the sufacers knew agreed to the terms. An accord was nigh, but Sheyreiza had to be sure of Alustriel. On Sheyreiza’s end the price of this accord was not one that could be recouped if the other side had a change of heart. This was no compact to enter in lightly, no merchant’s contract whose breach would be settled in coin or trade goods. This was a solemn pact whose very enactment would cost at least one soul and probably several not too mention all the lives that would be lost in its formation. Though the terms of this accord would likely never be written on any parchment, paper or stone, the covenants would be spelled out in blood and sealed by the dooms of its signers. Sheyreiza looked Alustriel in the eye and stepped forward to stand toe to toe with the High Lady. Armed bodyguards reached for sword hilts but no blades or blood was yet drawn. The hall was silent.
Sheyreiza held the Queen’s gaze as the guards held their positions and Alustriel held her tongue. Around the two women the others looked on. Sheyreiza broke the silence at last. “Do I have your word upon your faith in this?” Sheyreiza’s voice was little more than hiss. “This alliance will claim my soul, Mistress of Silverymoon.”
“How so?” Alustriel asked, her brows turning to a concerned frown.
Blue and red eyes narrowed to mere slits as Sheyreiza answered. “I cannot go back to Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan as a priestess of Eilistraee.” She glanced briefly at the drow priestess behind Alustriel, then back to the high lady.
The Queen understood Sheyreiza immediately. “You are willing to do this?” She asked. “I will not ask it of you if it is not entirely your decision.”
Sheyreiza was glad for the Queen’s recognition and concern. It showed she understood the gravity of Sheyreiza’s situation, of the cost this accord would exact. Sheryeiza was resolute however, so long as her would be allies were. “I am willing to do this.” She looked away. “I have my reasons.” And she did. Long had she felt Lolth in her heart, long had the darkness sought to envelop her. Once, she had believed herself truly free of the Spider Queen, but time and circumstance had undermined that belief: Jain’n’s betrayal; Qilue’s weakness; Sadei’s death; and above all, the failure of Eilistraee to show Sheyreiza any real hope for the drow people. Sheyreiza never doubted the good in Eilistraee’s divine heart, but she had come to believe that for all her goodness, Eilistraee was not to be the savior of the drow – Lolth was their mother, and only Lolth could keep them from being exterminated by their enemies. Evil, insane, and cruel, Lolth was, nonetheless, strong. Strong enough to keep the Seldarine, the fairy elves, the duergar, the illithid, the eye-tyrants, the orcs, the dragons, the aboleth, the humans and all other enemies at bay for ten millennia. Eilistraee could not even keep a handful of her followers in the Promenade alive for a few centuries.
Alustriel turned to the masked man in black. “Our alliance has been faithful and productive, has it not, Manshoon?”
“You have held your end of our bargain to the letter.” He replied without emotion.
The High Lady looked back at Sheyreiza. “If the drow honor this agreement, we shall as well. You have my word. If they turn on us, we will defend ourselves, but that is all.”
Sheyreiza bowed her head in gratitude. “Of course. Bela'dos malla Ilharess.” She closed her eyes tightly, then nodded ever so slightly. They had an accord. Sheyreiza opened her eyes and stared at Alustriel. “You are not what I expected.” She said with a faint smile.
“Neither are you.” The Queen responded. “I apologize for the rudeness you have encountered here, and will continue to encounter. We are not bad people, we are just wary.”
“It is alright,” Sheyreiza said sadly, “we earned it.” The people’s natural wariness was something that Alustriel should foster, not subvert. When the Shades were gone, the folk of the surface would be better served by fear of the drow than by trusting in them. The others discussed accommodations but Sheyreiza’s mind was on the future. She might lose her soul over this but she had not lost it yet. There was still good she could do before slipping back into darkness’ embrace. She looked to Higgy and Alustriel. “Something to keep in mind.” She said, interrupting them. “No matter what I do for you. No matter what they do to help. In the end, should we survive this war, we will still be drow. And I will not be who I am now. Do not forget.”
Behind Sheyreiza, Inthara covered her face with her hands and fought back tears. Slowly Alustriel nodded. “I will not.” The Queen said. “These are alliances of convenience. Perhaps the seeds of something greater, some day, but not now.”
“May we survive so long as to be enemies again.” Sheyreiza said. She smiled once more, bitter sweetly and bowed. Alustriel gave Sheyreiza and Inthara papers identifying them as allies of Silverymoon, though she cautioned Sheyreiza that when she returned the mythal would not allow her to enter the city. There was some discussion of the other allies in the works, Sembians and dragons, and then the group broke up.
Outside, Inthara squinted in the light of a street lamp that blazed brilliantly overhead against the dark night sky. Sheyreiza, Hignar and Nikie followed the sorceress out of the palace and into Silverymoon’s streets. Snow fell slowly and silently about the foursome.
“So... 'hat went well, aye?” Hignar asked, his voice carrying a note of cheerful hope.
“Yes.” Sheyreiza said softly, all hope for cheer long since having fled.
“Seemed to.” Nikie agreed.
Hignar nodded. “Nikie 'nd I will get her supplies soon 'nd be back, then you three 'r ready to go.”
“I will not be taking Butterfly with me.” Sheyreiza announced as she looked up into the night sky.
The dwarf was obviously puzzled. “Hmmm?”
Was it so hard for him to see? Even a thick-headed dwarf should have seen this coming, Sheyreiza thought. “If I do, the Matron's will ask for her heart.” Sheyreiza looked down at the frowning dwarf. “And I will have to give it to them.” She said matter-of-factly.
“Xas.” Inthara agreed. She knew this was coming, even if she had said nothing until now. “A test.”
“They won't ask fer Nikie's, aye?” Hignar asked.
Sheyreiza smiled softly. Hignar’s concern for his friend was touching and it warmed against the cold snow and the even colder future. Whatever she might believe about Hignar, she believed he was loyal to his friends, even if not to his god. “No.” She answered. “Nikie is neither a heretic nor an apostate. She is just human. Iblith to them. They will not care who she worships.”
“Nor is she dear to Shey.” Inthara said. And there it was. The truth. The Spider Queen would not tolerate anyone in Sheyreiza’s heart save for the Spider Queen. Anyone Sheyreiza held dear Sheyreiza would have to sacrifice if at all possible. For their sake, she had to leave them all behind; Inthara, Shein’n, Vraja, Gryndal, everyone she actually cared about.
The gruff dwarf looked to Sheyreiza with sad eyes. “When this 's all done, I hope ye come back to yer current faith.”
“I will not want to.” Sheyreiza replied. His concern was genuine, she could feel it, but there was little she could do to give him hope. She knew she was Lolth’s, even now, and once she gave herself back to the Dark Mother fully there would be no leaving her again. Not even in death. “Hignar, in the days ahead I am likely going to do things that you will not like. When this is all said and done, no matter what happens, do not think too ill of me.”
The grey haired dwarf nodded slowly. “I know a sacrifice o'one's soul.”
Sheyreiza looked back up at the snow falling out of the night sky. It was beautiful. She found it every bit as wondrous as she had the first time she had seen a snowfall at night near the village of Tervale more than a decade ago. Her first night on the surface. Her first encounter with wild humans. Her first death. “The first time I died, it was night and it was snowing.” She looked down to the snow at her feet, remembering those that had fallen before that fateful night so long ago; each falling like snowflakes, one by one, to be subsumed in the cold white winterscape of the north. Silently, Sheyreiza walked away from the others into the dark of Silverymoon’s streets.
Hignar looked up into the sky and then at the form of the drow priestess as she faded into the darkness. “So's the second time.” He said quietly.
Inthara made her goodbyes to Hignar and Nikie and followed Sheyreiza into the streets. The human and the dwarf watched in silence until they could no longer see the drow women.
“Time to go, Nikie.” Hignar said. They had to secure the Sembian alliance and gather Nikie’s supplies which would be used to bribed the Matrons. There was much work to be done.
“Aye.” The black clad woman said, still staring into the darkness.
“The deadline waits fer no one.” The dwarf grumbled with a frown. He spared a last look down the darkened lane where the drow had walked. “Damn this war for the souls its cost.” He shook his head angrily and began his casting.
***
Sheyreiza stood naked on the grassy lawn of one of Silverymoon’s parks. The green blades of grass were disappearing under the falling snow but Sheyreiza could feel them beneath her feet. She held only her sword, and she wore naught but her warming stone from Lonelywood and her symbol of Eilistraee. Behind Sheyreiza, Inthara stood watching in silence.
“I want to dance one last time sister.” Sheyreiza said her voice but a hoarse whisper.
Inthara stripped off her robes and joined Sheyreiza, naked save for her own blade and holy symbol. In unison they raised their swords to the moon above. False dawn had come and morning was near but the moon was still visible between the dark grey clouds that hid most of the deep blue sky. Sheyreiza sang a short prayer song asking for Eilistraee’s blessing and Inthara joined in harmony. The prayer done, the women lowered their swords. Sheyreiza took a deep breath. The song she was about sing she had never sung aloud before though she had sung it to Eilistraee a thousand times at least. It was her Flame Song. There were three periods of song in a normal day at the Promenade of Eilistraee; the Grand Chorus, the central ceremony for the temple during which all available would gather to sing to the Goddess; the Call of Eilistraee, a haunting melody sung by a senior priestess to call the faithful back to the caverns after a cycle of work in which others would join as the left off their chores and traveled back; and the Flame Songs. A Flame Song was performed by an individual priestesses when the priestess was moved to do so, dancing around a candle or other flame. The Flame Song was personal, taking any form desired, and ended when the flame died. At the Promenade, it was considered the height of rudeness for a priestess to deliberately interrupt the Flame Song of another, though trespassing outsiders and nonbelievers were usually forgiven for their ignorance. Priestesses usually tried to find an alcove or passage where they could be alone to make their Flame Song. A visitor to the Promenade visiting at the right time might hear the eerily beautiful echoes of half-a-dozen or more of these solos at once, drifting down various passages and in side caverns and rooms.
Sheyreiza’s Flame Song had always had words but she had never sung them. For her three years in the promenade she performed her Flame Song silently, singing to Lady Silverhair in her mind, the only outward expression of her melody the dance she would perform around a candle. She had always expected the Flame Song to be her death song, and so she saved the words for her Final Dance. The time had come. Tonight, now, here on this snow covered lawn in this strange, surface city, she was going to dance her Final Dance. There would be no light from above however, as there was when the old priestesses went to their Final Dance. Eilistraee would not be coming for Sheyreiza to make her young again, to lift her up into the sky on divine wings as she danced for the last time in her ascent to the green fields of Arvandor. No, when this Final Dance was done, Sheyreiza would still be in this world. It was not Eilistraee that was coming for her, it was Lolth. There would be no peaceful, beautiful ending for Sheyreiza. Her path was darker now. Her path would be violent; her death, bloody and ugly.
Sheyreiza began to hum the tune. She had no candle so she brought to light divine darkfire on her blade. Inthara, an experienced dancer in her own right, accompanied Sheyreiza. In the drow societies of Menzoberranzan and Ched Nasad it was forbidden to dance while armed. In addition to all the unintentional mishaps that might occur, the potential for assassination was too great. Amongst the followers of Lady Eilistraee, however, there was no such restriction. Sheyreiza and Inthara danced with their swords, Inthara’s naked blade glittering under the magical lamplights of the city and reflecting the fire engulfing Sheyreiza’s weapon. Sheyreiza broke into song and Inthara followed in harmony. The sorceress did not know Sheyreiza’s Flame Song but she could follow nonetheless. Their elven voices held sadness and grief that human voices simply could not capture. The drow words lifted across the streets and shutters opened as the residents sought to see what creatures could produce a tune of such profound loss, resolve and melancholy. There in the streets before them danced two exquisitely beautiful drow, exotic in their otherworldly form, frightening in their deadly dance, heartbreaking in their alien song.
As the sky lightened the tune grew faster and the dancing more frenetic. The women’s blades slashed and turned as their bodies gyrated, swayed, leapt and spun. Though they moved closely they moved without hesitation, their razor sharp blades slipping past their silken skin time and time again by a hair’s breadth but never less. For all its apparent violence, it was a bloodless, beautiful dance of love not hate. The song rose to a crescendo and Sheyreiza rose with it. Had this been an ancient priestess’s final dance, this is when Eilistraee might have lifted her up in a beam of silvery radiance and taken her to the green lands of Arvandor, but this was no such moment. Sheyreiza leapt but no divinity caught her, no goddess lifted her up, no salvation was forthcoming. She came to the ground, flaming sword sweeping down from on high like some bloody solar descending from the heavens with righteous wrath, but as she landed, the darkfire of blade was extinguished, the moon was lost to the light of dawn, and the green grass beneath her feet was no longer visible beneath its cold blanket of snow. Sheyreiza’s Final Dance was over.
Inthara’s dance had come to an end as well. Sheyreiza did not look at her but spoke as the two women kneeled, exhausted, on the snowy field. “I love you.” She said simply. “I should have told you that more often.” Tears welled up in Sheyreiza’s eyes.
“I love you too, my Heart.” Inthara said, her voice beginning to break. “Our time is at an end. Goddess, I'll miss you my Heart.”
“And I will miss you.” Sheyreiza said softly. “You have been my conscience and heart for many years.”
Inthara wiped tears from her eyes. “Always remember me, please.” Inthara began weeping.
“I will never forget you.” Sheyreiza said, comforting her. The two women hugged on the snow covered lawn. “And you, please, remember me when I was...better. Our good years in Lonelywood.”
Inthara sniffled and nodded. “For the time we have left, can you just hold me? Please?”
“Yes.” Sheyreiza took Inthara in her arms and held her as she cried. She watched the sun climb from the horizon into the cloudy, gray sky and wondered how many more sunrises she might see, if any. In the east, a darkness was coming for the folk of the Silvermarches, but a different darkness was coming for Sheyreiza. One she could not escape or defeat, but one she had to embrace. Soon.
