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[Kal'iksix]

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The hours following the hosting of patrons at The Tangled Web proved to Kal’iksix that the time of being with child was quickly coming to an end. In the prior weeks, Kal’iksix sought the help of Kaelthir, one of Darrien’s minions who was well known in her deliveries. The days grew long and proved to be exhausting as the waves of pain came and went. Drayden stayed at her side, no doubt not wanting to miss the birth of their daughter.

Mid week after her usual meditation time, Kal’iksix emerged from the room and was hit with the strongest pain she had felt this week. She recognized it when it started within her back and slowly made its way to her front. Her crimson eyes grew wide as she let out a shocked gasp. Drayden went to his Matron’s side.

“Jabbress?” Drayden whispered.
[Mistress?]

“Lar l' Neraka'ta'Buloi Kaelthir….queelas,” Kal’iksix spoke between gritted teeth.
[Summon the Neraka'ta'Buloi Kaelthir….quickly]

Drayden ordered the nearby slave to go summon Kaelthir and then assisted his Matron to the lower level of the temple. She had specific instructions to have any future offspring near the altar as Vas’al had been born. The fires around the sacrificial area, kept the space warm. Kal’iksix grabbed her abdomen several times and let out a low groan. She even at one point dug her nails into the stone of the altar.

“Xsa il's aluin tlu zolarix,” Kal’iksix growled.
[Damn, she’s going to be painful.]

By the time the slave returned to the temple with Kaelthir, Kal’iksix’s breathing was quite erratic, beads of sweat dripped from her face, and her hair was falling from it’s neat up do. Her chest heaving with every breath, the contractions were coming harder and faster. Kaelthir knew the time was close, so she assumed her human form so not to distress either mother or child. Stepping back into the light, Kal’iksix was looking at a slender, Jhelomian looking woman with dark skin, hair, and eyes.

“Matron, you must control your breathing,” Kaelthir spoke sternly but calmly to Kal’iksix.

“Control it? That’s impossible with this wench!” Kal’iksix growled while grabbing her abdomen and screaming.

Kaelthir shot a very stern look towards the laboring mother. Kal’iksix instantly calmed down and tried to focus on what the woman was about to tell her. Drayden supported Kal’iksix in his arms, smoothing her hair. Kaelthir instructed Kal’iksix to focus on a point somewhere within the room so that she can evaluate how close the infant was arriving. Kal’iksix screamed through another contraction as Kaelthir realized there was going to be some difficulty with this birth. Mumbling under her breath, Kaelthir placed a bag upon the altar and began mixing different liquids. Kal’iksix screamed again with the next contraction and her breathing once again became erratic. Kaelthir handed Kal’iksix a glowing blue liquid.

“Drink Matron,” Kaelthir ordered.

“What is it?”

“It will help.”

“Help with what?” Kal’iksix asked. Kaelthir hissed a few Stygian words through her teeth, "Boru'ta beilada."

“Drital ussta ssinssrigg, dos inbal khalessev ilta nindol feir,” Drayden whispered in Kal’iksix’s ear.
[Drink my love, you have trusted her this far.]

Drayden took the blue liquid from Kaelthir and lifted it to Kal’iksix’s lips. Kal gave him a disapproving look, knowing that she never drinks without him testing it first. He continued to place the vial to her lips and the blue liquid burned her lip, forcing her to gulp the foul liquid. The liquid warmed Kal’iksix and the pain started to subside as Kal’iksix felt a bit light-headed.

“Patron, I…” Kaelthir paused a moment, “I am going to require your assistance. Find another to hold the Matron.” Drayden looked at the disguised arch mage and nodded.

“Summon the Mistress’ general. Find Deathwynd.” Drayden ordered the nearby slave. Drayden removed his piwafwi and folded it up to rest Kal’iksix against it as he leaned her against the altar. Kal’iksix was able to doze lightly now between contractions.

Kaelthir beckoned Drayden over to her, and the two of them turned and spoke in hushed voices. Drayden listened as Kaelthir explained that this was going to be quite difficult as the priestess was coming feet first, which could prove fatal to both mother and child if not handled correctly. She emphasized that the concern should not cross his face as it may trigger panic within the Matron. Drayden nodded and glanced over his shoulder at Kal’iksix, resting.

“Zhah nindol jalbyr zud'dar d' dosst dalharil? Usstan swariy dos plynn ilta lu' ussta dalharil dal uns'aa, Usstan orn elgg dos usstan,” Drayden muttered under his breath looking at the statue of the Goddess.
[Is this another test of your daughter? I swear you take her and my daughter from me, I will destroy you myself.]

[Kal'iksix]

---

Kal’iksix dozed on and off, mostly waking when another contraction hit. Deathwynd arrived and was cradling the Matron, wiping her forehead, and whispering in her ear. Kal’iksix’s screams became louder and louder and could be heard throughout Umbra.

“Something is wrong. Vas’al wasn’t this bad,” Kal’iksix whispered breathlessly to Deathwynd.

“Hush Mistress,” Deathwynd purred at her while stroking the Matron’s hair, “Everything is fine.”

Deathwynd’s eyes lit a bright yellow when Kal’iksix wasn’t looking and shot a look to Drayden and Kaelthir. They stood beyond where Kal’iksix was laying, deep in conversation about the steps that need to be taken. Drayden was chewing on his lower lip listening to Kaelthir’s instructions.

“I am going to have to physically turn the baby inside,” Kaelthir spoke softly; “it’s going to be quite painful. I don’t know how what the effects of the potion will have on the baby if I give her more.”

The next scream that came from Kal’iksix was unlike the others. Drayden looked up from the floor to Kal’iksix to see a pool of crimson starting to form underneath her. Kaelthir cursed again in Stygian as the situation just reached a state of urgency. Sweat ran down Kal’iksix’s forehead and her color grayed slightly.

“The Priestess has just changed our plans,” Kaelthir spoke quietly as she quickly lowered herself to her knees before Kal’iksix. Drayden took Kal’iksix’s hand and watched Kaelthir start to work.

“Matron, we have a situation. Now listen to me carefully and we can work through this without complication.” Kal’iksix’s eyes went wide.

“Situation?” Kal asked.

“Il's rathi'dol,” Drayden whispered with a light kiss on Kal’s forehead.
[She’s backwards]

“BACKWARDS?!” Kal sat up and yelled while Kaelthir glared at Drayden.

“Matron! Lie down and relax! It’s going to become quite uncomfortable,” Kaelthir spoke in her calm stern voice.

Deathwynd guided Kal’iksix back into her arms and patted her forehead clean of sweat. Kal’iksix’s breathing went wild again as she arched back looking at the statue of the Goddess that loomed above her. Kal’iksix cried out as she felt Kaelthir begin to manipulate the baby. The pain was unbearable, feeling the baby being pushed back inside and turned from both inside and outside. Blood poured from Kal’iksix and covered Kaelthir’s arms up to her elbows. Kaelthir was muttering incantations in Stygian under her breath as she worked. Beads of sweat forming on her forehead, Kaelthir turned the baby.

“Okay Matron, now…push…with everything you have,” Kaelthir ordered.

With the help of Deathwynd, Kal’iksix gripped Drayden’s hand and pushed with all her might. She felt as if she would rip apart. She screamed again and it echoed through the pillars of the temple. Draxiz X'lottl, the drider crept from his cell to see what was going on. Blood continued to pour from the Matron in spurts with every push. Kal’iksix was tiring quickly and collapsed against Deathwynd’s chest, breathing heavily. Kaelthir looked at the lodged head of the priestess and then to Drayden.

“She’s gotta keep going or we will lose both of them. The head is not even out.”

“Ilharess, qualla, dos inbal ulu elendar. Draw jal dosst plithut whol l' Quar'valsharess belbau dos z'ress. Dosst kluchud'ssussun zhah graying, l' lerg shlu'ta'naut breathe, dos orn tu' el,” Drayden pleaded to Kal’iksix.
[Matron, please, you have to continue. Draw all your hatred for the Goddess to give you strength. Your color is graying, the baby cannot breathe, you will both die.]

Kal’iksix was slipping in and out of consciousness, panting, and very weak. Drayden and Deathwynd were pleading with her in her ear to continue. Kaelthir could not wait much more and spoke very loudly to Kal’iksix.

“Matron, wake up!” Kaelthir slapped the Matron hard across the face with a bloodied hand. Deathwynd tensed and growled at her. “Show me how strong you are! Show the Goddess you are not weak as She believes you are!”

The slap pulled Kal’iksix from the blackness. She growled low and gritted her teeth at Kaelthir. She had slapped Kal’iksix and now Kal was pissed. Pulling the last bit of energy, Kal’iksix pushed, reaching to throttle Kaelthir for the slap. Kaelthir smiled and laughed as this last burst of rage was enough to dislodge the head of the priestess. The baby slipped out the rest of the way shortly after and Kal’iskix collapsed again. Wrapping the baby in the linens, Kaelthir worked feverishly to clean out the mouth and lungs of the baby. The baby was listless and gray like her mother. Rubbing her roughly on the sternum, the baby began to cry. Drayden and Deathwynd breathed a sigh of relief when they heard the cry.

“Well done Matron,” Kaelthir said, placing the baby in Drayden’s arms. Kal’iksix was barely conscious in Deathwynd’s lap. “Here is your daughter, Patron, the high priestess….” Kaelthir paused waiting for the name to be spoken. Drayden walked to the statue of Lolth and held the baby girl in his arms. Casting his crimson eyes to the statue, he praised the Goddess only slightly.

“Shri'hrae,” Drayden spoke, “Silent Princess.”

“Bella dos, Kaelthir,” Deathwynd said, bowing her head to the woman.

“Of course, it’s a great honor for me to bring in the first daughter of the Matron.” Kaelthir left a few vials of Umbran poppy with one of the slaves for the post birth period pain.

Drayden took the infant and sat next to Kal’iksix. He took Kal’s limp hand and kissed it gently. Kaelthir gave hushed commands to the slaves for the clean up. The baby was definitely a fighter like her father. The infant squirmed in her father’s arms and yawned. She opened her eyes and Drayden gasped slightly. Deathwynd looked at Drayden with a puzzled look.

“Ilta solen...nind inbal natha seke'ssussuni d' sil'iluuth wun l' draix,” he whispered to Deathwynd, “L' vaen d'lil shinduago Eldalie trait. L' uuthli solen mixed xuil l' phish.”
[Her eyes...they have a tint of violet in the center. The last of the surface elven trait. The blue eyes mixed with the red.]

Kaelthir, using her knowledge of magic, ceased the bleeding and instructed Deathwynd as she handed her a bottle of purple liquid with instructions for Kal'iksix to drink a quarter of the liquid every four hours. All the while, Drayden looked at the unconscious Matron and then to the statue of the Goddess.

“Dos elendar ulu xo'al ulu elgg ilta,” he cursed at the statue.
[You continue to try to destroy her.]

[Gorhun Morchiant]

---

Rising from his bed and walking to the window, the drow shades his glowing red eyes from the sunrise. From behind him, the door burst open and a young and battered human boy is thrown to the floor by a muscular drow male.

“What is this Olath? If you were not my nephew, I’d have already had you disemboweled!” the drow says angrily, “I have no time to punish slaves!”

“Lord Gorhun, this human is from the deserts south of Umbra,” the young drow says as he places his foot on the human’s back to thwart him from standing.

“And?.. the drow lord says with an air of annoyance, “answer quickly or this nauseating human will not be the only entity dying today!”

“He said that he has heard rumors that Kal’iksix has had her child!” the young drow says proudly.

“This is news indeed…discover if this is true and where the child is kept…we may have to pay a visit,” Gorhun says as an evil smile spreads across his face.

“Consider it done my lord!” Olath says as he turns dragging the human boy by the leg out of the room.

“Oh and Olath…if you must kill the human…and I know you must…have a slave clean up after it…I do hate the mess…,” the drow lord says as Olath drags the captive down the stairs.

Gorhun strides to the window, and as he gazes towards Umbra, he thinks to himself what a magnificent occasion this is for profit, power, and chaos. As he thinks this he smiles evilly and pours himself a glass of wine.