“Fulfill your destiny as drow. Join me in sweeping this change across the face of the city,” Shaddar whispers into the quiet chamber.
The three drow elders who have witnessed the unthinkable do not speak.
They stare at the body of Shaddar’s loyal messenger, killed in an unprecedented manner before their very eyes. Their faces and especially their thoughts reveal all. One is utterly convinced and willing to do whatever he says. One is completely skeptical and hostile. And one of them remains neutral towards Shaddar, despite the disgust he feels.
“The Destroyer has come! All is lost! We have no choice but to obey him if we are to have any hope of alleviating the suffering he brings,” the lone female drow elder Griselle thinks while nearly hyperventilating.
“A pretty display to be sure. But I know the prophecy is false! The Elder Evils were defeated completely by the Lords – none of their fancy predictions foresaw that! The old tales can not come to pass now that they are no more!” Filazar thinks angrily.
Yanivlitan runs a finger down his long nose while thinking, “Revolting, yes. This fiend is not to be trifled with, no matter who he says he is or what his plans are. What does he want from our people, I wonder? What benefit will helping or hindering him bring us?”
Filazar can’t contain his anger at this violence done in his presence to one of his own people, no matter how broken they were. He shakes a bony fist and yells, “All this proves is that you are like the humans! You care not for the lives of any drow! At least the Lords have protected us and sheltered us for thousands of years after they freed us from the tyranny of the Elder Evils! That race is gone! None survived the Lord’s purge alive!”
Shaddar chuckles as he responds, “A story told to you by the Lords themselves, no doubt.”
“No! I heard it as a child from the lips of our most ancient elder at the time of my youth: Invinglar! He lived through the end of the Dark Times! It was 8,672 years ago when the last living Elder Evil was struck down. Invinglar was a child then himself and he refused to tell us what the Elder Evils were like for fear of them, even in his dotage. None who heard him doubted the truth of his words. And we have passed on Invinglar’s wisdom to all the children of the drow race, so the truth will not be forgotten nor twisted.”
Yanivlitan nods sagely and speaks, “This is true. Invinglar’s records are quite clear and precise in all of these details. It was the drow who were the first folk in this Realm. Our city was created at the center of the world and we lived in peace for 500 years. Then the Elder Evils came and none could resist them! They brought other slave races with them: the hobgoblins and the humans. Using these slaves as troops, our small number was quickly enslaved.”
“And then the world changed!” Filazar says with authority ringing in his voice, “Changed, I say, and their prophesied ‘Destroyer’ did not come to harvest the world, instead only the Elder Evils were destroyed as their world was rent and wracked!”
Yanivlitan peers down his nose at his fellow elder, “Just as I was about to say. The first change was that it grew light on the surface. The pale moon flared into brightness and the next morning the sun rose for the first time in the sky. The Elder Evils shunned the light and retreated to their underground stronghold. But this was only the beginning of their woes –”
Filazar interrupts, “Yes! The Lords then came out of the Mist – and this was the doom of the Elder Evils. For the Lords allied themselves with the humans and together they waged a great and terrible war. The Lords could not be resisted and the Elder Evils’ reign of sorrow was brought to its just conclusion! They slew all of the Elder Evils in their deep city!”
“And the Realm was established,” Yanivlitan steps back in with a trace of annoyance in his voice, “Because the drow and hobgoblin races were forced to fight for their dread masters they were almost completely wiped out as well. They were suffered to live, but as punishment, the Lords decreed that they would forevermore be the servants of both Lord and human.”
“Now this is fascinating,” Shaddar thinks, “Obviously, these are legends. Legends that may be based in the truth, but are not complete. The total loss of the drow culture can be explained by this tale. If their numbers were reduced so far, then it is unlikely their civilization would survive as a whole. And this deep city they mention…”
As to the legends that they speak of, Shaddar has mixed feelings. On the one hand it would seem that time has not flowed at a steady rate as the brainmate has told him. Could this world have been built prior to the final and failed experiment? That would explain why his master seemed so sure of himself on that fateful day. On the other hand, it is possible that the experiment was not a failure at all – perhaps some other event has corrupted this created world and the experiment had nothing to do with it.
“We must obey,” Griselle says quietly, “It is the end of times! He is the Destroyer! Do you not recognize him by the sign of his face?”
“I think you may need a bit of a nap, Griselle,” Yanivlitan says in a soft voice.
“And a bottle of huckleberry brandy,” Filazar vents, “Calm yourself, Griselle! Act with the dignity your age should represent!” The female stiffens at this, and composes herself somewhat.
The three drow look towards Shaddar to see what his response will be to the barrage of historical ‘facts’ that they have laid before him.
Shaddar narrows his eyes as he says, “The Elder Evils were not wiped out. They can not be. For what is light without shadow? You may cause it to sleep for a moment, but I assure you: Evil walks the Realm once more!”
“Can it be true? Is this an Elder Evil that stands before us?” Yanivlitan thinks.
Griselle’s façade of calm shatters at Shaddar’s word as she howls, “Our old masters have returned! Woes unmitigated! Despair! With all of the proofs before you, how can you not see the truth, Filazar?” she demands.
“Ha! The prophecy says ‘all will obey him’. I don’t know about you, but I feel no urge or compulsion to do so! Do you? No, I think not. Just the same over-excited imagination that has gotten us all into trouble, time and time again for centuries,” Filazar answers with disdain as he thinks, “This is nothing but a rouge villain with some exceptionally well-masked illusionist abilities.” He turns to Shaddar and asks, “You talk about the dark winds of change – what do you mean? What change?”
“The humans will become the slaves of the drow,” Shaddar answers at once, “Your people will rise up to take your rightful place in the natural order of this world.”
Filazar’s face shows nothing, but he thinks, “Never happen. I like the sound of it, but it’ll never happen. I wish it was otherwise, since I don’t care for being a servant forevermore, but that’s the way things are and there’s no changing them.”
“Really?” Yanivlitan says, “Tell us: what is your plan?”
Shaddar makes a languid gesture with his hands, “Surely you have noticed the sloth and laziness of the humans? How they are completely incapable of dealing with any type of challenge or upset of their narrow, pitiful, little lives?”
“We know it.”
“It will be a simple matter to cause a social, economic, or military collapse. I have already set in motion all three, in fact.”
“What of the constables? The Heroes? The Villains?” Yanivlitan sputters, “Do you expect them to simply lie down and let you ruin the city?”
Shaddar tips his head back and laughs loudly. “Toothsnatcher? Show them what you have brought.”
Toothsnatcher pulls out a constable uniform, slashed and covered with blood. He throws it on the floor in front of the drow elders.
“I see,” Yanivlitan says quietly while thinking, “He has no compunction about slaying the humans either. He is certainly a rouge villain!”
Shaddar scoffs, “These concerns you raise are but petty matters.”
Filazar speaks with a knowing leer, “Really? And what about the Knights? And the Lords themselves?”
“By the time they realize what is happening, it will be too late. I will have completed my infiltration of the slums and the streets. My army will be assembled, trained, and ready to strike! They will have no choice but to capitulate!”
“Overconfident fool!” Filazar thinks.
“Destroyer,” Griselle says in a tone of despair, desperate for a tread of hope, “Why did you wish to speak to us? Surely you would not tell us of your plans of ruin and overthrow without some reason!”
“The drow people are a key component to speeding my machinations to their inevitable conclusion,” Shaddar explains.
“Ah, ha!” Filazar yelps. “Now we come to it!”
“You wish us to risk all of our people,” Yanivlitan says slowly, “who have survived at the mercy and grace of the Lords for these long millennia on some kind of adventure?”
“Surviving is all your people are doing. I can help you really live! The drow are proud and intelligent creatures, being lorded over by such weak beings… Pah! Continue if you wish. As will I. My plans are unstoppable. My power growing by the second. Rest assured: with my victory I will remember those who helped me advance my plans as well as those who hindered them.” The threat is clear in his words.
Yanivlitan wags a finger at Shaddar, “I did not say we would hinder! Nor have I said we will help! I want to see some solid evidence of your power, beyond some threats and grandiose words. How can we risk our people without knowing the truth of your words? You must show us some proof of your ability to upset the natural order established by the Lords and hold onto your gains. Show us some tangible sign of your power and capability of resisting the ire of the Lords and we will talk more of the drow helping you."
“Very well,” Shaddar says with a sad kind of sigh.
Filazar has a simpering look of satisfaction on his face as he adds, “Come now! You didn’t think that we would turn all our beaten people over to your without hard evidence that we weren’t going to be sending the to the Mist, did you? We drow have already almost been wiped out once and we don’t care for that to happen again!”
“Do not consider us your enemies, great one. But do not yet consider us allies. Anything you can do to improve the lot of our people would be welcome, but we can not risk our race unduly. We dare not risk returning to the Dark Times,” Yanivlitan concludes with a reasonable tone.
Griselle says nothing, but her thoughts are still panicked, “The return of the Dark Times is now certain! Doom has come to us all! The Destroyer has come for us all!”
Shaddar turns without another word to the elders and strides briskly from the chamber. He waves off the drow guides and leads his thralls back through the twisting path to the surface.
His thoughts are filled with wrath at the risk-adverse elders who have stymied his attempt to ensnare the drow in this city to his plans. Only one of the elders is under his sway and that is not enough. Proof they want? He’ll give them proof!
“They can join their forces to mine of their own accord or I will build up an army of hobgoblins and force them into my service!” he thinks angrily, “Or into a mass grave!”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 34 Chapter 36 >
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