The Dark Flower, Book II - Chapter 3.

[Mikayla]

A shrill yell pierced Sheyreza’s reverie. She tried to ignore it, but it was followed by more yells, footfalls and the sound of slamming doors. Pushing back her connection to the greater world of elf-kind, she forced herself to full conciousness. More yelling could be heard. Sheyreza stood quickly, threw a quiver over shoulder, stuck her sheathed sword through her belt sash, and grabbed her bow. She did not need to don her armor as she had been wearing it. Recent intrusions into the dormitories had left her feeling exposed even in her own chambers, so she frequently reveried in her armor unless Gryndal or Inthara was watching over her. There was also the matter of the Iron Ring.

Not long after the enemy drow had come and foiled Sheyreza’s plans to recover Tel’s remains, the Promenade had entertained another unexpected guest. Merrian Thorn, the Halfling sneak Sheyreza believed responsible for at least one of the recent incursions, had simply appeared near the great statue of Eilistraee. When Sheyreza confronted the Halfling, Merrian told the drow priestess that she had managed to steal Tel’s remains from Undermountain. The Halfling was willing to trade the remains, but wanted two things: first, she wanted the Chosen to stop patrolling the underdark; second, she wanted the Chosen to give up all their anti-slavery activity. It was clear to Sheyreza that Merrian had appeared at the behest of the Iron Ring. Though the terms of the offer were ridiculous, Sheyreza promised to pass the offer along to Qilue.

Qilue had listened to the offer but had made no decision yet. A ten-day had passed as Qilue, Iljrene and Sheyreza debated how best to respond to this latest move from their long time enemies. Obviously they could not agree to such a proposal; to stop patrolling the underdark around the Promenade would leave the Chosen blind. An enemy would be able to amass just outside the gates and erect any sort of siege device or blockade they wished. Giving up their anti-slavery activities was also out of the question; the slavers might as well have asked for the Chosen to give up worshipping Eilistraee. Freeing people from slavery, whether it be the metal shackles of the Iron Ring or the mental shackles of Lolth, was the very purpose of the Chosen.

In the meantime, Sheyreza was acutely aware that Merrian’s masters might not have much patience. Soon, they might very well send Merrian back to deliver a different kind of message, this one written in blood. Accordingly, Sheyreza did her best to be prepared at all times, even within her own chambers.

Sheyreza trotted through the dormitories, but saw no one. As she passed through the entryway, she heard raised voices coming from outside. She opened the main portal and looked out. Across the cavern a great wall of light blazed from the front of the temple and a mass of warriors and acolyte priestesses had gathered there. Sheyreza scanned the cavern briefly for signs of enemy. Seeing none, she slipped out of the dormitories, locked the door behind her, and then made her way up to the gathering.

Sheyreza addressed the first acolyte she came upon. “What is the meaning of this?” She recognized the acolyte's face but could not remember her name immediately.

“Qilue and Iljrene gave orders to prepare for battle and defend the temple. Then they went inside. After that, the wall of light you see at the doors appeared.” The acolyte was dressed for battle. Beneath her blue piwafi and hood Sheyreza could see the tell-tale glint of chainmail. Behind the armored acolyte a wall like sheet of brilliant blue-white light streamed from the steps immediately infront of the temple door towards the ceiling of the cavern. Its intensity made Sheyreza squint.

Sheyreza looked away from the light to the young priestess. “What are they doing in there?”

The acolyte shook her head. “They did not tell us.”

Sheyreza frowned. “Make way.” The company of warriors and acolytes parted and Sheyreza walked up the steps of the temple. She reached out to the light-enshrouded door. As she pushed on the doors an irresistible force threw her from the steps and pitched her back towards the edge of the mound upon which the temple was built. Only Sheyreza’s drow-born dexterity kept her from tumbling down the hill.

She steadied herself and stared at the portal wide eyed. Embarassed, afraid and angry, she yelled at the acolyte. “Why did you not warn me of that?”

The young priestess, whose face already bore the signs of fear, betrayed her confusion. “I, we…we did not know. None of us have tried the door.”

The look on the young priestess’s face and the tremble in her voice told Sheryeza the acolyte was not lying. In that fear Sheyreza recognized the girl and remembered her name. Talice. Talice had been the temple maid the cycle that an unseen intruder had unlocked the door to Sheyreza’s chamber and left a dagger planted through a rose inside of it. Sheyreza had lashed out at the girl, sharply rebuking her for failing to stop the intruder. Expecting a mere acolyte, a priestess in training, to stop such skilled sneaks was unrealistic, but like now, Sheyreza had been embarrassed, scared and angry.

Sheyreza found the senior acolyte in the group, a promising young priestess named Hivarra. Though also an acolyte like Talice, being more senior, Hivarra attended to the temple and Qilue herself. Sheyreza thought her likely to make a good priestess someday and it seemed likely that the girl would soon be tested. “Do you have patrols out?” Sheyreza inquired.

Hivarra shook her head. “No yathrin. I was told to gather everyone here.” The acolyte's voice betrayed a slight tremble but she was managing her anxiety well.

“Alright." Sheyreza pointed west. "Place two warriors at each entrance to the Cavern of Song. Take two more warriors and have them start patrolling the grounds between here and the entrances.” Sheyreza looked out on the cavern. “We need some advance warning. If we do not have patrols and pickets out, we are blind. The enemy can move upon us and catch us all standing on the steps unprepared. The patrols and pickets will give us the advance warning we need.”

Hivarra nodded. “I will have to post them from the reserves at the Hall of Healing.”

Sheyreza looked at their current position. One line of warriors flanked each side of the temple, while another line stood guard at the bottom of the temple-mound where the slope was walkable. Two more lines of warriors and acolytes were on the steps of the temple itself. Sheyreza could use those on the steps to reinforce the three outer lines as needed. This force should be enough. “Fine, post them from the reserves.”

Hivarra sent out the order.

A flash of light erupted from the door of the temple. A rumble followed. More lights flowed from the temple and a great commotion could be heard from within. The ground shook and the chosen along the temple mound did their best to keep their footing. Another blinding flash of light accompanied by what sounded like thunder followed. Sheyreza shielded her eyes from the brilliant flare but it was gone an instant after appearing. In its wake, Sheyreza could see a tiny crack running up along the foundation stones of the temple. From the crack came a soft red light.

“Off the steps!” Sheyreza yelled, her sword tip pointing at the glowing break in the stone. The two ranks of protectors and acolytes on the steps of the temple surged off the stones at once. Sheyreza watched the temple for a moment but nothing else happened. She surveyed the guards. All had turned to stare at the glowing building. Sheyreza pointed her sword at the two flanking lines and the line below the temple-mound. “Keep your eyes on the cavern!” Embarrassed and fearful, the warriors turned back to face their respective watches. What if the threat comes from within the temple? Sheyreza thought. “One warrior in each line," she called out, "is to keep watch on the temple.” Hastily, the sergeant of each line complied and directed one his warriors to keep watch on the cracked and glowing edifice.

Across the cavern an orange light blossomed momentarily, silhoutteing the intervening buildings. A second later, yells and shouts could be heard in the distance.

“That’s the hall of healing.” Hivarra exclaimed.

Sheyreza nodded. “I am going over there.” She turned and looked Hivarra in the eye. “You are in command until I return or the temple opens.” Sheyreza readied her bow and jogged down the hill. She walked caustiously across the cavern, her eyes scanning back and forth. The Cavern of Song was large and it was filled with many buildings, some ruined, some rebuilt. If enemies had gained the entrances, they would not lack for concealment. Though in a hurry, Sheyreza would cross warily.

Outside the Hall of Healing Sheyreza found a number of Protectors helping children and other non-combatants. Many were burned. Though they had clearly been attacked, no one was certain what had happened. Sheyreza questioned the Protector captain in charge, a seasoned veteran male named Durdyn. Though details were scarce, it appeared an unseen mage had unleashed a fireball or perhaps several, on some of the Promenade’s civilians and their homes. When the Protectors stationed at the Hall advanced to find the mage, they were shot at by a very accurate, very stealthy archer. The enemy bowman fell back, but did so slow enough to cover the retreat of the mage with well placed bow-shots. The engagement had left many wounded, but none dead. Sheyreza entered the Hall of Healing and helped with the injured. There were perhaps half a dozen that desperately needed her attention. She took the healing kits from her pouch and set to work binding wounds and dressing burns. Around her, several acolytes did the same.

A flash of dull orange light spilled in to the hall through the main door. The flash was followed by a low rumble. In the distance there was yelling and shouting, then the unmistakable sound of metal on metal. Sheyreza put her head down and focused on finishing the dressing she was working on. When she was done, she wiped the blood off of her fingers, grabbed her bow and made for the door.

Durdyn was there, sword in hand. “It came from over the temple,” he said pointing beyond the near buildings, “and there is noise of battle.”

Sheyreza looked around the Hall. There were more than a dozen wounded and another dozen or so who had come attending them. To guard all of these there were only a handful of Protectors. She wanted to reinforce the temple, but she could not afford to strip the Hall of its defenses, at least not without sacrificing the wounded. “Send a scout to see what is happening.”

Durdyn quickly did as he was ordered. Sheyreza returned to the Hall and used the last of her bandages to help the burn victims.

A few minutes later she heard Durdyn yelling from the door. “It’s an attack! Driders and spiders attack the temple!”

Sheyreza quickly formed a squad of half a dozen warriors from the available Protectors. Bow in hand she led them to the temple to reinforce the guards there. She left Durdyn with orders to round up all Protectors not currently at the temple or the Hall and add them to the Hall’s guard force.

As Sheyreza’s squad made its way through the buildings fire could be seen near the base of the great statue of Eilistraee. As they got closer it became clear the fire was a dozen or so burning bodies. At first Sheyreza could not tell who the dead were, friend or foe. As she got closer she could see that most of the corpses were temple defenders. Scattered amongst the dead Protectors were a handful of drider bodies and giant spider carcasses. Though many were dead, the defenses had not fallen; a ragged line of bloodied Protectors stood guard along the temple-mound. There were more than a dozen of them, but far less than when Sheyreza had left only an hour before. Sheyreza and her squad of reinforcements made their way past the smouldering corpses and up the temple mound.

As she gained the crest Sheyreza could see the single glowing red crack in the temple’s stone had multiplied into many such cracks. Deep red light glowed from within, as if the cracking stones led to the abyss itself. Gryndal, Inthara, Talice and Hivarra were among the defenders still standing on the mound.

“It is good to see you back … with others …” Hivarra said, looking to Sheyreza’s squad.

“Flower!” Inthara rushed over, her lithe black body covered in gore, sweat and dirt. The beautiful sorceress had been bloodied, but she was smiling.

Sheyreza waved her warriors into position along the flank of the temple and looked to Inthara. “What news?”

“We were attacked by spiders. Driders too.” Inthara pointed at the half-drow, half-spider bodies and spider carcasses near the base of the statue below. “We killed those and chased the others off.”

Gryndal spoke in a low voice. “The cavern has a strange evil to it. Illusionary perhaps.” He looked around the cavern. “I heard the sounds of hissing and saw shadows dancing about.”

“Xas,” Inthara added, “we heard a hissing and slithering.”

Gryndal looked at Sheyreza. “And then they were gone.”

Inthara nodded. “Whatever it was, retreated. For now.”

Sheyreza looked at Inthara and realized that much of the blood was from injuries, not enemies. “You are wounded Buttefly.” She glanced up at the temple. “As is the stone.”

“Xas. I touched the temple.” Inthara looked over to the north cluster of buildings where Kestal lived in Tel’s house. “And was attacked by Kestal's guardian.”

Singing softly, Sheyreza cast a minor healing on Inthara and the blooded sorceress’s wounds closed. Inthara sighed and smiled. “Bella'dos Flower.”

“Xas... still nothing from inside?” Gryndal asked.

Hivarra shook her head. “Nothing. All sounds have ceased, only the glow remains.”

A puzzled look crossed Sheyreza’s face. “Kestal's guardian?”

“Xas.” Inthara replied. “After the driders and spiders attacked, I thought that she might be in danger. I, well me and Gryndal, went to her house, Outside of it we found a spider and killed it. I thought that there might be someone after her. I knocked and a woman answered.
I thought that she might..”

Inthara was interrupted by the soft hiss of Gryndal’s crossbow letting loose a bolt. Sheyreza spun to see a spider the size of a riding lizard coming across the cavern floor below the temple-mound.

Inthara unleashed the magic of her wand and a sparkling ray of blue-white light struck the on coming creature. “Spread out!” the sorceress yelled to the protectors who were rushing the spider in a tight mass of bodies. Though large, the spider was quickly slain.

Sheyreza and Inthara got the protectors back in line while Gryndal kept watch from the bluff with his crossbow.

A shudder passed through Sheyreza and she noticed Gryndal and Inthara cringing and shivering at the same moment. Inthara rubbed her arms as if cold. Suddenly, a sharp point of pain stabbed through Sheyreza’s chest and her mind’s eye glimpsed a dagger cutting downward. Sheyreza winced and clutched at her chest with her free hand.

“What was that feeling?” Inthara was looking around the protectors and others gathered on the temple-mound for signs they felt it too.

“I am not sure.” Sheyreza replied through clenched teeth.

Inthara’s voice fell to a whisper. “Is it hurting?” Inthara knew all too well about Sheyreza’s chest wound, the one that had killed her so many years ago. From time to time, Intharta knew, the wound ached again. Usually those aches were premonitions of danger. Sheyreza’s brush with mortality and the abyss had left her more sensitive to the approach of evil.

Still clutching her chest, Sheyreza nodded. “Fall back in line with the protectors.

Gryndal looked to the two women. “You feel that too?”

“I felt something.......wrong.” Inthara replied.

The Protectors and acolytes spread out along the temple-mound, sharp drow eyes searching the recesses and dark places of the cavern for any sign of the enemy or the enemy’s point of entry. Over the next two hours the defenders’ lines came under sporadic attacks by more giant spiders. The spiders came singly or in pairs and fought to the death. They came from a different direction each time and tested a different line of the defense. Every attack was repulsed but each left more defenders wounded. Two Protectors fell beneath the fangs and claws of the giant arachnids never to rise again. Some of the critically injured were removed to the Hall of Healing. Sheyreza knew the temple’s defenders were more than a match for these petty assaults, but she also knew these attacks were just probes. The enemy was using its expendable spiders to scout the Chosen’s positions and test their defenses. Sheyreza walked the lines but tried to keep herself out of the action. She did not want to reveal her power nor did she want to expend that power before the real assaults began.

As the hours dragged on, Gryndal asked Sheyreza, the only full priestess among the defenders, to sing to the Goddess. Sheyreza realized she had been so intent on watching the physical defenses she had neglected the spiritual ones. Without hesitation, she closed her eyes and lifted her voice. Inthara joined as well and a chorus later the acolytes picked up the song. One by one the deeper, bass voices of the Protectors crept into the melody while the women sang. As the defenders began to sing as one, the Cavern of Song became just that, and the music of Eilistraee reverberated through the underdark in defiance of the enemy.

The soft sound of an arrow slicing through the throat of one of the Protectors brought an end to the singing. A black clad archer had snuck into the cavern near the great statue and began loosing a deadly rain of arrows upon the defender’s line. Gryndal was the first to return fire and Inthara quickly joined in, but neither was able to hit the slippery foe. The line of Protectors, led by Sheyreza, stopped their singing and charged. Gryndal and Inthara followed, pausing just long enough to fire their crossbows again, but again, they were unable to hit the rapidly moving enemy.

The black clad archer dodged back through the buildings to the west. The Protectors spread out and pursued. Gryndal, in his light leathers, quickly out paced the other pursuers.

Sheyreza saw danger. The black clad archer was simply trying to draw them out to kill them more easily. “Gryndal!” she yelled. Gryndal slowed and looked back. “Beware traps.” If Sheyreza had been in her enemy’s position, she would send just such a scout forward to draw out a few attackers. Those foolish enough to follow recklessly would find themselves amidst a field of traps. As the traps were set off, Sheyreza would launch an ambush. They are trying to draw us out, she signed to Gryndal in the drow silent language,fall back.

An arrow whistled out of the gloom and struck Gryndal in the shoulder spinning him around a half turn. He staggered back into a ruined doorway for cover. Wincing, gritting his teeth, he pulled at the embedded missile to free it from his flesh. One never new what drow might put on an arrow head. Another arrow shot from the darkness, this one striking Inthara who fell to the ground groaning.

“Get back!” Gryndal yelled from the doorway. Sheyreza knelt beside Inthara and cast a healing prayer upon her, closing the wound as fast as the enemy had opened it. Gryndal was moving out of the doorway now, yelling at the two females. “Come on.”

Sheyreza turned, drew her bow, notched an arrow, and let loose the shaft at a black clad figure moving through the old buildings. The shot went wide. She loosed another arrow and this one too failed to find its mark. The black clad figure let loose an arrow of his own that grazed Sheyreza’s armor.

Sheyreza raised her defensive spells, drew her sword and rushed the black clad archer. The enemy bowman ran. She chased him to the mouth of the Cavern of Song where the enclave of the Promenade gave way to the passages of the Underdark. She did not dare follow any further. It was a basic tactic of scouts to draw out enemy into traps and she had no intention of falling for the same tactic she had used on others a hundred times before. Near the Cavern entrance Sheyreza saw two dead protectors. Presumably the pickets she had ordered Hivarra to place earlier. The enemy had apparently disposed of them without a sound. Sheyreza could not see the north entrance from where she was, but she had to presume those pickets had been similarly slain, and probably the patrol as well.

She returned to where Inthara had fallen and found the sorceress leaning against a pillar, shivering. Though she trembled as if cold, sweat glistened on Inthara’s skin.

Sheyreza narrowed her eyes. Poison. It had to be poison. Inthara needed treatment. That meant getting back to the other defenders. The problem was that Sheyreza, Gryndal and Inthara were now near the south entrance to the cavern of song. If the enemy had infiltrated in through the north entrance as well, they would be able to ambush Inthara as she made her way back. Indeed, the enemy could cut off the three of them entirely from the other defenders who had already fallen back to the temple mound.

“Alright, retreat to the two gazebos.” Sheyreza pointed at the two structures that lay half way across the cavern between where they now stood and the main defensive line at the temple. “We cannot watch both entrances from here.” From the two gazebos one could see the only paths large enough to move a significant force into the Cavern of Song. There were a few smaller paths, both north and south in the cavern, but those paths wound through tightly congested buildings. If the enemy tried to move an army through there, they would quickly find themselves bottlenecked and trapped. Sheyreza did not think she would be so lucky as to have an enemy that foolish.

At the gazebos, Sheyreza waved Inthara on towards the temple mound and the sorceress staggered off. Sheyreza turned and crouched, watching the two approaches which led from the north and south cavern entrances to the temple. A few yards away, Gyrndal moved into an alcove along the side of a dilapidated building and folded himself into shadow, his crossbow loaded and cocked. Sheyreza spared him only the briefest of looks. She did not want to give his position away. She sighed. She would be the bait. She crouched down between the two gazebos. She held her bow in one hand, an arrow notched to the bowstring in the other. A good archer, like the one that had harried them only minutes ago, would aim for the weak spots of her armor like the armpits and the neck. Accordingly, she held her arms in close and kept her head tucked down as far as she could. Then she waited.

Sweat rolled down her skin inside her helmet and she could hear herself breathing. Her knees began to ache from crouching, but she dared not stand for fear of exposing weak spots in her armor and she dared not kneel for fear of being caught completely flatfooted. Long, painful minutes passed. Her red and blue eyes swept over the ruins before her again and again, looking for any hint of the enemy, any shadow, any reflection, any movement; anything at all. Sheyreza began to lose track of the time. Minutes turned into an hour, maybe more. Had a watch passed yet? Surely not. Half a watch? Perhaps. She shifted her position from time to time, always staying in the open but always trying to deny an enemy archer a clean shot at a weak point in her armor. There were some archers and some arrows that might be able to punch through enchanted mithral plate head on, but not many. It was a risk Sheyreza would have to take.

Noise came from behind the crouching priestess. She turned, peering across the great open cavern towards the temple-mound through the narrow slit in her helmet. She saw a familiar blue-white beam of arcane energy streak across the dark. Inthara was in combat. Sheyreza rose out of her crouch and ran towards the temple with Gryndal right beside her.

Sheyreza saw the enemy as she drew close. The temple-mound was under attack by wraith spiders, undead arachnids the size of riding lizards like the giant spiders that had attacked earlier. Instantly, Sheyreza and Gryndal were loosing arrows and bolts. Protectors from the temple-mound descended from their lines as well, flanking the giant sickly gray and white arachnids. As the warriors joined in the fight, Sheyreza switched to her sword and charged into the fray. The first spider did not last long under her blade, but another scuttled into the melee. Sheyreza turned her blade on that one and it too perished quickly. As Sheyreza and the protectors were slaying the attacking spiders, Inthara collapsed near the base of the temple-mound’s southern flank. Gryndal, seeing the fight well in hand, rushed to the stricken woman’s side.

Looking her over, he put a hand to her skin and frowned. Sheyreza looked up from the carcass of the undead spider she had just destroyed to see Gryndal tending Inthara. “She is sweating, feverish. Was she poisoned?” Gryndal’s normally hard face was contorted with concern and his voice trembled betraying his fear for Inthara.

Once all the wraith spiders were destroyed, Sheyreza ordered the Protectors and Acolytes to reform their defensive lines infront of the temple steps. Then she examined Inthara’s arrow wound. The bleeding had stopped, but the skin around the wound was inflamed. Angry red lines streaked across Inthara’s black skin. She was cold and clammy to the touch, and shivering uncontrollably. The wound and the poison were much worse than Sheyreza had initially thought. She had some skill at healing, but there was nothing she could do for Inthara at this point. Inthara would have to ride out the poison’s effects and until she did, the sorceress was all but useless.

A small glowing ball of fire streaking from the north cluster of buildings caught Sheyreza’s eye. Before she could shout a warning, the small fiery ball arrived amidst the two lines of Protectors and Acolytes that had just reformed on the temple’s steps. It exploded with a glaring white flash into an inferno of yellow and orange flames . The fireball was the largest, brightest and hottest Sheyreza had ever seen. It completely engulfed the two ranks of defenders. Many fell instantly, while a few more hardy but less fortunate souls staggered through the flames, their bodies turned into living torches. They screamed as they stumbled, their arms waving about in the flames. It was over in a few seconds. Even the toughest of the immolated defenders was quickly overcome.

For a long moment Sheyreza just stared at the carnage. More than a dozen bodies lay burning on and around the temple steps. Everyone who had survived the spider attacks and the black clad archer was dead. Hivarra, Talice and the others had been incinerated by a single, fiery spell.

Sheyreza gripped her bow, notched an arrow and jogged into the midst of the burning bodies, looking for both survivors and the attacker. She had little hope of finding any alive who had stood in that ball of flame, but she had to try. Gryndal joined her, his face a tortured scowl as he searched through the burning bodies for any signs of life. The smell was almost overpowering as the flames peeled skin and flesh from bone. A quick survey told Sheyreza and Gryndal what they had feared; none of the defenders had lived.

Sheyreza had seen many people die. Indeed, she had killed many people herself, far more than now lay dead infront of the temple. For a drow raised in the chaotic society of Ched Nasad, violent deaths were a common sight. She knew instinctively there was no time for grief, remorse or guilt. There was only time for action. The fireball had done its work, but the battle was not over. It was still kill or be killed.

She pointed with her sword towards the cluster of buildings near the fountain. “It came from the north.” Gryndal nodded grimly. He was Menzoberranyr and was no stranger to violent death either. The last few years, he had lived through the deaths of almost his entire family, most recently his brother Dorgazz and sister Laele. He understood as well as any of the Promenade’s warriors that there was a time to grieve, and a time to fight. This was the time to fight.

The two drow trotted off the temple mound, bows in hand. They had fought side by side long enough now that they did not even need the drow sign language. They simply moved together, searching through the buildings and ruins, each covering the other in turn. They found no sign of the fireball’s caster, only the dead carcasses of the giant spiders that had been slain earlier when the temple defenders had first been attacked.

As they returned to the temple, Sheyreza saw an acolyte priestess standing atop the mound staring at the bodies buring before the steps. The shock and horror of the scene was all too apparent on her face. Not all of the Promenade’s drow had grown up in such close proximity to death as Sheyreza, Gryndal and Inthara. Many had come from enclaves where Lolth was but a distant enemy, and families were not just political organizations one murdered their way through to achieve more station.

“All dead.” The girl said, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Sheyreza knew from leading the Lonelywood elves that such horror as now faced them could paralyze an unprepared mind. The best cure was to keep the mind preoccupied, and that meant keeping it busy so Sheyreza gave the frightened acolyte an order.

“If there are more reinforcements, have them fall back to the temple.” Sheyreza kept her voice stern, calm, and authoritative. The acolyte looked up, tearing her eyes away from the corpses of her friends. What was her name? How could Sheyreza not remember? Why was she having such trouble with names? The Chosen were not that numerous. “When you get them here, keep them spread out.”

The acolyte nodded. “I'll go get whatever is left. It will be some time.” The acolyte spared the burning bodies one last look, and then ran off towards the Hall of Healing. Only then did the girl’s name come to Sheyreza. Akordia. Akordia Glannath. She was young, a Promenade native, born here to parents who had followed Qilue centuries ago from the city of Buirandyn. Buiyrandyn had, even before Qilue’s birth, thrown off the shackles of Lolth’s tyranny to become a free city. The free city did not last, however. Years later it was destroyed by an Illithid attack, but that was after Qilue had come to the Cavern of Song.

Gryndal began muttering in a low, feral growl. “Whoever did this will pay dearly.”

Sheyreza knew anger could cloud one’s battle skills as easily as fear, and the cure was the same. Stay busy. Do not allow the mind to wander. “Gryndal,” Sheyreza said pointing to Inthara, who was still sweating and shivering. “Carry her to the Dorms. There is nothing I can do for the poison right now. There is a healing kit in my trunk. Or at least, there may be. If you retrieve it, maybe I can help her.” It was actually too late for the healing kit to help Inthara as far as Sheyreza could tell, but the task would keep Gryndal busy and let him regain his focus. He was, at the moment, the only warrior Sheyreza had available to defend the temple until Akordia returned, hopefully with Durdyn and his men. Sheyreza could not afford to have Gryndal getting himself killed because his anger led him to do something foolish, like pursue the black clad archer again.

The scowling warrior slung his crossbow and lifted Inthara over his shoulder as carefully and gently as he could. Gryndal glanced over at Sheyreza, an unspoken question in his eyes. What was Sheyreza going to do?

The priestess answered his look. “I am going to guard the temple.” Gryndal nodded and then turned away silently, heading down the flank of the temple-mound towards the clerical dormitories.

Sheyreza watched Gryndal go, covering his move with her bow. No enemies appeared. After Gryndal and Inthara were inside the dormitory, Sheyreza walked back to the temple steps. The bodies of the incinerated defenders were smouldering now. A few still burned, but most of the flames had died down to glowing embers as most everthing that could burn had been burned. The stench was hideous but Sheyreza was not unfamiliar with it. She pinched a bit of strong smelling fungus from her healing kit and rubbed it beneath her nostrils to keep the smell of the dead out of her head. Then she crouched down amidst the bodies and waited. She could see across the cavern well enough, despite all the smoke from the fires, both atop and below the temple-mound. Like many populated caverns in the underdark, the Cavern of Song had portals to the elemental plane of air along its ceiling allowing for air to flow in, and smoke to flow out. The portals were small and specially crafted, like all such portals, to allow only non-living matter to pass. Similar portals to the elemental plane of water were often used to irrigate otherwise dry sections of the underdark. Such was the life of those who lived in a world without skies or rain, and the Promenade had never known either.

Thus Sheyreza was immediately alarmed when she heard a rapid, high pitched tapping noise sounding very much like a rain storm. She squinted into the dark of the cavern, pearing beyond the drifting smoke, glowing bodies and faerie-lit statue of Eilistraee. She could hear the storm approaching but she saw nothing. It sounded as if a wall of rain was headed towards her, almost like a winter torrent along the Sword Coast of the surface.

The floor beyond the great statue began to undulate, as if it the very stone was boiling. Sheyreza’s eyes narrowed to mere slits and her heart began to race. What deviltry was this? What horror did the enemy now seek to visit upon the temple, upon her? The roiling floor crept closer and finally, by the faerie light of the great statue Sheyreza could see it was not the floor moving, it was a veritable tide of spiders. A swarm of giant arachnids scuttled from the darkness towards the temple and Sheyreza. She could see they were no ordinary giant spiders either; they were sword spiders. The rapid, rain-like tapping noise was the strike of dozens and dozens of long, hard, sword-like legs upon the stones.

Sword spiders were common guardians and servants amongst Lolth’s followers. The Eyes of the Spider academy in Ched Nasad where priestesses like Sheyreza were schooled used specially trained sword spiders as roving patrollers. The beasts could fight with up to four of their blade-like legs at once, challenging even the fastest drow swordsman’s parries. If they got close enough, they also had fangs, and those fangs were poisonous. Typically, a sword spider would seek to pin an opponent with thrusts of its sword like legs, then bite the prey and inject its poison. The spider could then back off, using its flurry of blade-legs to keep attackers at bay. Once the prey succumbed to the poison, the spider could advance again in safety and feast.

Quickly Sheyreza loosed an arrow at the surging enemy before her, then another and another. Wounded spiders screeched at they were struck but the arachnid tide rolled on. Sheyreza kept firing but she realized she could not target individuals. The spiders were climbing over and under each other in phrenetic, chaotic charge. Each arrow was finding a different monster and her fusillade was not even slowing them down. Arrow after arrow left her bow. The monstrous spiders reached the base of the temple-mound and began climbing. Sheyreza looked right and left but there was no sign of either the reinforcements from the Hall of Healing or the return of Gryndal or Inthara from the clerical dormitories. If she stood her ground, Sheyreza would stand alone against the tide of spiders. As fast as she could she slung her bow and drew her sword. Her left arm slipped into her mithral clawshield and she backed away from the edge of the mound towards the steps. The spiders kept coming. They came through the smouldering bodies without pausing. Sheyreza watched the tide, trying to focus on one enemy so her blows would count when they came, but the tide was too numerous, too chaotic.

Standing alone on the steps of the Promenade’s temple, Sheyreza lifted her sword. She screamed her goddess’s name, and then the tide of sword spiders rolled over her.

[Zakharra]

...............wow! That was awsome Mik.

I like the new forums avatar too

[Virvaldin]

YOU CANT END IT THERE!!!!

I think it time to print out all you'v written and read it all. It be a nice book to have on the nigtstand.

[Mikayla]

Virv wrote:

I think it time to print out all you'v written and read it all. It be a nice book to have on the nigtstand

I did it with the first 20 chapters or so and realized I REALLY needed to go back and do a rewrite. There are a lot of holes and such as a result of the stories being written with no clear idea of what would later be important. As a result, I have started the rewrite process, starting with the very first chapters. Eventually, I will put it altogether and have a full length novel of ALFA, but it needs a really serious rewrite. Whole chapters have to be added, things need to be rearranged, etc. The story arc is there, but I have a lot to do before it really reads like a decent cohesive book.

[Killthorne]

Wow! Thanks for the story Mikayla!!!


~Killthorne~

[Sandermann]

Wow Mik.

Thanks, its great to know what went on while Tel was out of action. Dread to think how she'll react when she finds out about this IC :/

[Squamatus]

Good tale.
I am hoping Sheyreza went with the "fight or flight" approach as opposed to the more common, though much less effective "sit down and play the flute" technique.

[Ogregrim]

Riveting. Besieged and harried, and yet resolute, one eagerly wonders what is apt to come of all this. Truly the stuff of saga.

I am most enthusiasticly awaiting the next installment.

[Vendrin]

Great stuff Mik

[Cayssan]

This is teh *twiggy'd*!! Truly good stuff vanity girl.