Insurrection
Page 9
Pharaun's curiosity was piqued.
«Really,» he said, musing. «It might prove useful if we could track down some of these choldriths and find out if they are suffering the same fate. It's obvious that Ched Nasad endures the goddess's silence, too, and once we get proof, Quenthel may be at a loss for what to do next. This would give us the means to explore further, find out if Lolth's reticence is universal or just limited to our own race.»
«It's a nice idea in theory, mage,» Ryld said, shooing a goblin vendor away who was trying to convince him to buy a bowl of slugs, «but you'd be hard-pressed to track any down, and struggle even more to elicit information from them. The drow hunt them for sport, so the chitines and choldriths have learned to flee or fight to the death.»
«Hmm,» Pharaun responded, spying a little shop selling something he wanted. «Perhaps, but my particular talents could come in handy in such an endeavor.»
The mages companions followed him to a cramped kiosk selling spirits, which was hanging at the corner of two fairly large web streets. To reach it, customers had to slide down a steep ramp of webbing to the front of the vending stand, then ascend a ladder of webbing to return to the street. Pharaun studied the small crowd of people gathered around, each in turn descending the slide and purchasing a flask or mushroom cap of beverage.
«You'd think they could have put steps in on both sides,» the Master of Sorcere sniffed disdainfully.
«Oh, by the Dark Mother,» Ryld said, shaking his head. «I'll get us something.»
With that, the warrior moved through the crowd, very few of whom were actually buying, instead begging coin or a sip from the paying customers. Ryld ignored them and descended upon the vendor, while Pharaun and Valas stood out of the way of traffic and took the opportunity to absorb the sights again.
When Ryld returned, he had a bit of a strange look on his face.
«What is it?» Valas asked.
«That gray dwarf charged me ten times what this swill is worth and seemed to take a certain delight in it.»
«Well, a bit of gouging is to be expected, when caravan traffic has dried up,» Pharaun said.
«Yes, but when a goblin asked for the same thing right after me, I heard the proprietor sell it to him for half what he charged me.»
«Maybe the little thrall is a regular,» Valas offered.
«Possibly,» Pharaun said, opening the flask that Ryld had procured and inhaling a waft. He jerked his head back and scrunched up his face a bit. «I suspect it has more to do with relishing the opportunity to earn a little payback against the drow.» He took a sip of the brandy and passed the flask to Valas. «After all, who regulates the commerce in the city? Who gets first choice of all the best vending locations? Who runs the caravan system? Who acquires the best trade goods?»
«In other words, who sticks it to the other races with regularity?» Ryld finished.
«Exactly. The gray dwarves, the trogs, the kuo-toans, and everyone else in this city know that the ruling class has fallen on hard times, and despite the fact that they've been allowed to trade in a city of dark elves, they won't waste a chance to earn a spot of revenge. And Ryld,» Pharaun added, gesturing to the flask that Valas Was handing to the warrior, «you would have been had at one-tenth the price.»
Ryld shrugged, took a sip, and said, «You're drinking it, aren't you?»
The three companions continued on, sharing the flask and discussing the prospects of acquiring some sort of tangible confirma-fcon that Lolth was absent from Ched Nasad. Pharaun continued to be deeply intrigued by the idea of investigating other races known to worship the goddess, and even as he contributed to the conversation, he mulled the concept over. It would require some research. Given rime and Quenthel's willingness, he had a good idea where he might go to perform the study.
The mage's musings were interrupted when the trio ascended a webbed staircase, turned a corner, and found themselves on a colonnade overlooking an open plaza. From the congestion in the mall, Pharaun thought it obvious that refugees had taken to using the place as a sort of campground. Still, there was enough room to move along the raised walkway around the perimeter without brushing shoulder to shoulder with the riffraff, and the three dark elves glided along, ignoring the pleas and demands for coin from the unwashed around them.
A shout from below drew the drow's attention, and when Pharaun peered toward the center of the plaza, he spotted the source of the disturbance. A priestess was standing in a fairly open area, three or four hobgoblins gathered around her. She seemed to be mumbling something, but from a distance Pharaun couldn't make out what it was. The female drow raised her arm back and tried to lash out at one of the hobgoblins with a scourge, but the creature easily stepped aside, and the priestess stumbled forward from the exertion. She was quite drunk, Pharaun realized.
«Filthy animals,» the priestess barked, staggering back upright. «Stay away from me!»
Pharaun noticed her unkempt state. Her piwafwi was soiled and sloughed half off her shoulders, her lustrous white hair was disheveled, and she held a bottle of something the wizard presumed to be liquor in her other hand.
The hobgoblins merely laughed at the drow before them, casually circling, which caused the priestess to turn, trying to keep an eye on them all. The effort made her stumble again, and she nearly went down in a heap.
«I don't think I've ever seen such a thing,» Valas breathed. «The gall those subcreatures have is truly bewildering.»
«Lets put a stop to this,» Ryld said, taking a step forward.
Suddenly, Pharaun was aware of magic around him, an effect that seemed to be centered on him and his two companions. He reached out and put a hand on the warrior's arm.
«Wait,» he said. «Lets see what happens.»
When Ryld looked at the wizard quizzically, he continued, «Drawing attention to ourselves is not the best way to investigate. Besides,» the mage added, «We might see once and for all if our theory is correct. This might be the proof we need.»
The wizard flashed in sign language, Ithink someone is watching us, observing us magically.
Both Ryld and Valas raised eyebrows in concern, but before they could turn and look around, Pharaun cautioned, Don't draw attention to the fact that we know. Just pretend we're watching the spectacle.
Pharaun briefly considered dispelling the magic, but he discounted the idea because he knew It would only give their spy notification that they were aware of his or her presence. Instead, he pretended to turn his attention back to the brewing fight below while in actuality scanning the plaza for signs of someone looking at him rather than at the hobgoblins. There were a great many magical auras radiating from many different individuals, but no one, as far as the wizard could observe, seemed to be staring in his direction.
The hobgoblins seemed content for the moment to keep their distance, though they were increasingly pressed from behind by a gathering crowd. For her part, the priestess seemed to have lost interest in her detractors and was standing relatively still, her eyes closed, swaying slightly. She was mumbling something, but Pharaun again could not make it out.
Well, spy or no spy, he thought, I want to know what she's saying.
He reached into one of his many pockets and produced a tiny brass horn, with which he cast a spell. When the magic was complete, the wizard could hear the priestess's mutterings as though he were standing right in front of her.
— beseech thee, our Mistress Lolth, return to me. Give me your blessings. Do not abandon me when I am your loyal an—aieee!»
One of the hobgoblins had chosen that moment to prod the drow with a sharpened stick, and she shrieked as she jumped, losing her grip on the bottle of spirits. It fell to the calcified pavement and shattered, spilling only the trickle that remained.
«Damn you, thrall!» she screamed at the hobgoblin that had molested her, attempting to stalk forward, her hand outstretched as though she were going to throttle him.
A second hobgoblin casually reached out with his own
short spear and tripped the priestess, who went sprawling.
She rose to her hands and knees and began shouting, «My goddess, come to me, aid me! Do not abandon me, your loyal servant, who will obey—»
«Your goddess is dead,» the first hobgoblin snarled, kicking the drow.
She grunted from the impact and toppled to the side, clutching for her scourge.
«No!» she shrieked. «Lolth would not abandon us! She is mighty, and her faithful are mighty!»
The four hobgoblins advanced together, and the drow priestess tried to kick at them, but the creature in the lead easily sidestepped the attack and jabbed down at her with his spear. Pharaun saw the point draw blood from the dark elf priestess's thigh.
Ryld snarled and flashed, This is not right. We should do something.
Valas nodded in agreement and produced his two kukris, one curved dagger in each hand.
The mage laid a hand on each drow's shoulder to slow them.
You only put our mission in danger, he signed. As you can see, no other drow move to help her.
He gestured down into the crowd, where several other dark elves were in attendance, observing dispassionately.
She has lost her faith and deserves no less, Pharaun admonished his companions.
It is not the priestess I am worried about, Ryld replied, a sullen look on his face, but to allow those vermin to believe they can so blatantly confront a superior being spells trouble for us all. They should be put in their place.
Perhaps, Pharaun responded, but we need anonymity if we are to finish our task. Confronting those beasts does nothing to further our own goals.
The wizard is right, Valas motioned, sagging back from the edge of the colonnade. If the matron mothers hear that three outsiders inter-fered in what may very well be one of their own plots, we will no longer be able to walk this city unhindered and unobserved.
If they're not already watching us, Ryld flashed. Are we still being off served? When Pharaun nodded yes, the warrior continued, We've got the proof we sought, anyway. Let's return to the inn. I no longer have the stomach for this city.
Pharaun nodded, though he did not share his friend's sentiment. Together, they turned and strolled back the way they had come, ignoring the screams of the priestess as the hobgoblins opened her a hundred times with quick, controlled thrusts of their short spears. After a few steps, the magical scrying vanished, and Pharaun cast his gaze around once more, hoping to find the source. He did not, and the three of them departed the plaza.
Behind them, the crowd that had gathered around the confrontation stirred and grew rowdy. Several other drow in the throng found themselves pushed and prodded as they tried to extricate themselves from the roiling multitudes. The other races were growing bold after witnessing the murder of a dark elf. Shouts rose up, curses to drow and their missing goddess. Finally, the handful of dark elves scrambled free, cither rising up above the aggressors around them, or pushing through to more open streets. The mood was turning ugly in Ched Nasad.
SIX
Aliisza, disguised as a lovely drow female, perched on the roof of a quaint shop that stood along the side of a street leading to the plaza, and she watched the comings and goings of the citizens, slaves, and visitors of Ched Nasad. The store offered fashionable, decorative silk wraps and other clothing, but the fiend crouching on Its rounded, co-coonlike roof was not interested in making a purchase. Instead, she watched intently as Pharaun and the other two drow males turned away from the slaughter of one of their own race and strolled calmly in the other direction. She observed them as they disappeared down one of the calcified webs that served as a street in the unusual city. When they were almost out of sight, she hopped down from her van-Sage point and strode off after them.
Aliisza was not terribly surprised that the three dark elves she was shadowing had not aided the drunken priestess. She had seen far too much nonchalance in the city since she had arrived for it to strike her as odd. Still, she got the distinct impression that the entire group from Menzoberranzan was making a great effort to avoid drawing attention to itself. She intended to find out why, but first things first.
The alu could not help but smile as she made her way along the streets, following the wizard and his companions while pretending to shop for trinkets in the bazaars and markets. She studied the myriad lines of calcified webs that stretched across from one side of the massive cavern to the other, glowing faintly with magical, flickering light as far as the eye could see. She half expected to see some great, lumbering spider making its way across the vast webbing.
They sure do love their spider motifs, she thought wryly. Everything they do revolves around the great Lolth, Queen of the Spiders. You'd think they would learn to diversify a little bit, try to become a little more well-rounded.
She grinned at her own little joke. Drow were such odd creatures, she decided. On the one hand so deceitful and chaotic, always turning on one another, but on the other hand trying to live their lives by some code or structure, based on the tenets of faith set down by a demon who was as unpredictable as could possibly be.
At least they universally agree on one thing, the alu concluded, they all think they're superior to every other species in the Underdark, and on the surface, too.
Aliisza watched as a gaggle of kobold slaves, pushed along by their hobgoblin slavemasters, scurried from one web street down a sloped ramp to the next web street below. All in all, she had seen more species of creature in Ched Nasad than she could imagine being gathered anywhere else. The «lesser races» outnumbered the drow by two to one, she figured, and included surface dwarves, ores, quaggoths, bugbears, and others, almost all of them slaves. The one possible exception to this was the gray dwarves, who traded honestly enough with the drow that they were tolerated in the city as merchants. In addition, Aliisza had seen an aboleth with its host of caretakers, illithids, grell, and what she suspected must be a deep dragon, for though it too was disguised as a dark elf, she detected the unmistakable scent as it strolled by.
The one notable exception to the eclectic collection of visitors were the beholders, for which Aliisza was not in the least sorry.
There's a race that's even more fond of itself than the dark elves, if that's even possible, the alu thought.
Eye tyrants were nothing but trouble as far as Aliisza was concerned, but fortunately they were in a perpetual state of war with the drow, so none were ever seen in the vicinity. If she had caught even a glimpse of one inside the great V-shaped cavern, she would have turned and headed the opposite direction as quickly as was fiendishly possible.
The alu blinked, realizing that with all her daydreaming, she was letting her quarry slip away. Glancing around, she spotted the trio of drow heading along a segment of web street toward a wall, into an out-of-the-way part of the city. She realized that they were in the mercantile district, and she recognized quickly enough that Pharaun and the others were headed for an inn set along the end of the dead-end thoroughfare.
Good, she thought. Now I can keep an eye on them and still enjoy the sights and sounds for a few days. Maybe I can even get the wizard alone for a little while. .
* * *
Faeryl Zauvirr brooded on the plush bed while Quenthel stalked back and forth in the room they shared at the Flame and Serpent. The high priestess didn't like to be kept waiting during the best of times, and she certainly didn't like being kept waiting in the middle of a strange city, tendays away from her homeland, and by three males, no less.
That damnable Mizzrym and his infuriating smile, Quenthel thought. I should have Jeggred rend him the moment he returns.
But she knew she couldn't eliminate the wizard or even allow him to be injured. As much as she loathed the situation, Quenthel knew she was dependent on Pharaun as a resource.
But when we return to Menzoberranzan. .
The unfinished thought hovered in her mind, not so much because she didn't know what was to be done with the irritating mage but because she didn't k
now when, or if, she would see her home again.
It had been so long since she'd last felt the presence of Lolth, had last bathed in the goddess's glory and favor, that she wondered if she even properly remembered what it felt like.
Will it ever return? Is she gone?
Stop it! Quenthel silently scolded herself. If you are being rested, fool, then right now, your score is not high. Not high at all. Even if she did send you back for a purpose.
Jeggred opened the door and entered, stooping as he did so to avoid the low jamb overhead.
«They are back,» he growled, sliding the door shut behind him.
«Where in the Hells were they?» Quenthel asked, still pacing.
«They went for a walk,» the draegloth answered, shrugging.
Quenthel looked over at the creature, who was leering at Faeryl. The ambassador looked miserable under the fiend's scrutiny, and Quenthel wanted to laugh, remembering some of the things Triel had told her about the Zauvirr's torture at the hands of Jeggred. Even so, this was not the time.
Quenthel snapped, «Are those worthless males coming, or must I send you to fetch them?»
«They will be here shortly,» Jeggred replied, turning away from Faeryl to crouch in a corner. «The mage told me he had something he needed to look over before they joined us.» Even down on his haunches, the draegloth was as tall as the high priestess. His white mane of hair cascaded out behind him as he examined the claw of one hand, picking some fleck of something from its surface with the hand of one of his smaller arms. «They have been drinking,» he finished, not looking up.
Quenthel swore, drawing a look from Faeryl, but the high priestess didn't care.
Out carousing, like foolish boys! she seethed. When we return, they shall be put to work in the roth fields.
There was a knock at the door, and Quenthel stopped pacing at last, planting her hands on her hips as Jeggred rose to answer it. When he swung the portal open, Pharaun, Valas, and Ryld filed in. Quenthel was surprised to see the grim looks on the faces of the three males.