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Dharzhal · Visitor Joined: 09 Aug 2009 Posts: 19

The old paths winding ever down, ever darkening, into the black maw of the Underdark stretched ever forward, beckoning him onward. Dharzhal could never forget them; they were as much a part of his memory as his flesh was to his body. Few dared tread these dark roads, and any who were not drow most often paid with their lives. Dharzhal knew that even he might not return alive.

He had long ago abandoned any thought of returning to his people, his homeland, in the newly-rebuilt city of Targrancimon. He had barely escaped from it a second time, having failed to convert his kind to the worship of a benign druidic deity named Quaestra Concordia, only to fall into the clutches of a rogue band of liche lords who almost made him one of their own. Without the aid of the Spider Queen, he would have died to become one of them. For her aid in helping him to avoid that horror, he had sworn eternal devotion to her... out of a twisted sense of honor.

Now he was returning, but this time for a different purpose... for the necessary and rare ingredients to devise a poison so deadly, so indescribably cruel, that neither the world above, nor the one below, would ever see an equal. A part of him, small but growing, delighted in the prospect. Humans had always hated him, and his kind, and now it would be their turn to suffer.

So far all went well. He had his spells, his bombs and the company and protection of his frost spider pet. But he had a long way to go, and many dangers lay between...

Dharzhal · Visitor Joined: 09 Aug 2009 Posts: 19

He did not venture into his home city, but sent a spider messenger to contact his wife, Streea, to meet him in a secret location. She arrived, bringing the needed items and they spent time together, enjoying one another's company. They talked of their daughter, Nizzre Velve, who had returned with her mother to the Underdark. The transition from the surface world, where she had been born, to that below, had not been easy, but she had finally adapted and was enjoying the harrowing intrigue of drow society. He knew she would. Nizzre sent her greetings to her father, but was committed to a drow slave hunting band and was unable to join them.

After a few days they kissed and parted company. It did not bother either of them unduly that they might not see each other for many months or even years. Their lifespans were long, potentially unending, so time was no factor there. Their love was mature now so they made the most of their time together, rediscovering each other.

As he made his way back to the surface, Dharzhal recalled his time among the lich lords of the ancient undead kingdom below the burning sands of Ilshenar; their mad plot to stop time and resurface to rule the world; their desire to remain secluded until then, and their obsession to make every intruder one of them. He remembered entering one of their chambers and seeing shelf upon shelf of rare and precious reagents. His undead host told him what they were and their uses. There was one that came to mind; one that would help make the poison more virulent and irresistable.

He had to have it.

Sneaking in was the only solution. He had trained himself well in the art of keeping to the shadows to become one of them, and had his magic to aid him this time that he did not have before.

He soon found the path that he knew would take him there. Before he walked too far upon it, he sent his spider messenger on another errand: to return and inform the Matron where he would be lest he did not return within three days.

With the Spider Queen's aid and blessing, he hoped he could last that long. But in the back of his mind, the terrors of the earlier time gave birth to lingering doubts and dark thoughts.