The being of rock, stone, and metal smashes his ethereal hammer into the anvil of the world. This final strike completing his task.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ME WORK OLD FRIEND? LORD AO HAS APPROVED. WHAT THINK YE?" The being turns to the Dragon, smiling wide and exposing his shining, mithril teeth.
"SOME OF THE BEST WORK YOU HAVE EVER DONE," comes the Dragons honest reply, its platinum skin sparkling in the planar light. "I BESEECH THE CREATOR TO BLESS THIS ENDEAVOR."
"THE CREATOR HAS BAHAMUT,” says the being of rock, stone, and metal. ”ELSE LORD AO, THE OVERDEITY, WOULD HAVE STOPPED ME AND I WOULD N’ER BEEN ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH THIS GREAT UNDERTAKIN.”
”WHAT OF THE EFFECT TO THIS ABEIR TORIL?” The God of Dragons asks with a sincere care for all of the people of that reality.
The being of rock, stone, and metal turns his head, his great beard flowing with the smooth pulse of eternity. ”ONLY TIME WILL TELL. IT'S UP TO THE CREATOR NOW.”
”SO BE IT MORADIN,” says Bahamut with the deepest reverence. ”THE LAND OF THARIN IS SAFE IN THIS REALITY OF ABEIR TORIL. MAY TRUTH AND GOOD PREVAIL OLD FRIEND.” The Platinum Dragon spreads its mighty wings, and its form turns into that of an eccentric human wizard of passing years. He turns to the God of Dwarves and says,”I MUST GO, I AM NEEDED ELSEWHERE.”
”MAY YE BRING PEACE TO ALL WHO HEED YE BAHA…I MEAN…FIZBAN,” says Moradin with a laugh.
Once alone Moradin, God and Creator of Dwarves, looks down upon his work. He becomes somber and melancholy, praying to the Creator of All Things, that he has done well this day. The Country of Tharin is saved from its fate, and now exists on the world of Abeir Toril. It exists now on this reality, as if it has always existed there. Such is the power of the omnipotent beings great work.
Moradin looks upon the fruits of his labor, and says with a righteous tone, to Tharin’s people, ”RECEIVE THIS GIFT FROM LORD AO, OVERDEITY OF ALL OF THE PANTHEONS OF THE FORGOTTEN REALMS, AND KNOW THAT ALL OF THE GOODLY GODS STAND WITH YE.” Moradin produces a handful of powerful magic items and flings them to the world below.
After many moments more of looking at his work, Moradin whispers to all of Tharin, ”I HAVE DONE ALL I CAN FOR YE. IT IS UP TO YE NOW. ENDURE. ENDURE ALL OF YE. STAND AND FIGHT THE RISING DARKNESS.”
Sometime later on the world below...
The light of Surmundil, the great stalactite that acts as the sun for the Drow City of Rubernenassad, slowly disappears with the fading power of your masters light spell.
As the light dims, and the comfortable blackness of the Underdark slips over the city, you can almost feel a palpable ease settle over every citizen of Rubernenassad.
Until recently, at the end of every day, the Archmage of Rubernenassad, would cast his magic upon the stalactite known as Surmundil to heat it. The heat from the Archmage's spell would form a band around it and move up its length. When the end of the glow was at the pillar's top, the day was almost done. When the pillar was completely dark, it was called Surmundil's Black Death, the midnight hour of the Drow City.
Now however, light is actually cast upon Rubernenassad by order of the ruling council of Matron Mothers. For a race that existed in the darkness since the war that split the Elven people, the light is unbearable. Why then has the council called for this dramatic and almost intolerable shift in the very foundations of the cities workings? In the beginning, there was desent but that was quickly put down by the High Priestesses of Lolth, who claimed it the spider goddesses will. Now, the whole of the city endures the lights pain for fear of death or worse.
As if reading your thoughts, your friend and mentor, the ancient Archmage Szordrin Despana says, "The light was particularly brutal this cycle was it not apprentice?"
Zengo blinks a few times to clear the offensive light from his eyes, and mentally prepares himself for the upcoming dull headache which will last for several hours’ time. "Yes, Master. Although I am not questioning the wisdom of our Priestesses, and trust that the whims of Almighty Lolth are purposeful, we are left to endure. And endure we will, as we are strong.” Zengo says the last sentence with a mixture of resolve and self-pity. Brightening a bit, so to speak, Zengo asks of Szordin, "Master, of what lessons will you impart this day?” Zengo realizes that his salvation lies in the knowledge of how to defend and eventually lead, and both require power.
Szordrin Despana, observes you for a moment, and then walks past you into Sorcere. He leads you towards his inner sanctum.
The aged Archmage motions you to sit. You have been in this seat many times during your apprenticeship, and every time you were invited within the Archmage's inner sanctum, you would notice certain behaviors and mannerisms that would not match his demeanor when in the presence of other Drow. The signs spoke to a potential kindred spirit likewise at odds with the existence of the Drow. To date, however, you have never confronted the Archmage about your suspicions knowing that to be wrong would mean death.
"It is time Zengo. Time for you to be set to the task I know you to be ready for. Will you accept this task Apprentice, knowing that it could put you at odds with the Drow way, and even with Lolth herself?"
Zengo catches his breath and stares into his Master’s eyes, looking for signs to confirm his hopes. Knowing this may be yet another test of this convoluted and backbiting society that he was unwillingly born into, he begins to speak further words of probing. Before they escape his lips, he closes his mouth. “Who is this drow to me?” Zengo thinks to himself. "At any point, my views could have been discovered. Perhaps they already have been…but if so, he would not be alone in these chambers, risking me to claim he sowed sedition. Who is this drow? My master, and the one I trust most. Time to prove that.” After the pause for his internal monologue, Zengo utters deliberately, “I would gladly accept any task you would bestow upon me, Trusted Master. I have always been at odds with the Drow way, so this task hints at being in line with my true self.”
"I have survived in Rubernenassad for over 700 years of feigned supplication to Lolth and Drow society. I have searched for one such as me, who saw the corruption of our existence, if only to know that I was not alone in my feelings or disgust at where our people willingly choose to exist. I have interviewed many, and found them as all the rest, corrupted by the world shaped by our commitment to Lolth. Now however, I believe that I have found one such as I. You Zengo of Daermon D'nezdaraddadon. You see things as I do. Am I wrong in this Apprentice?"
Zengo beams a smile almost as bright as the Surmundil. Zengo bows his head in supplication, and raising his gaze to again meet his master's, says to Szordrin, "Yes, My Master! The isolation I have felt stemming from my beliefs and vigilance I have had to exercise to not reveal those to anyone have been daunting in my short life...I am in awe that you have maintained this facade for centuries! Anything you ask of me I will gladly undertake."
"It is because of my goddess that I have survived. It is indeed time. Listen and learn the words of Eilistraee my apprentice, that you may likewise walk with her grace!"
Over the next several hours, Szordrin instructs you on the history of the all but forgotten Drow Deity.
After your instruction, the Archmage says, "Do you have any questions Apprentice?"
Zengo's mind swims with possibilities. A benevolent, self sacrificing Drow Goddess! "Clearly, I must devote my life to this Wondrous Being! Dare I think that I could influence others to follow a True Teacher, and turn from the path of wickedness that we blindly follow out of misplaced rage and fictitious hurts?" Zengo focuses on his Master once more. "Only one, my Master. How can I best serve Eilistraee and redeem our people?"
"To serve Eilistraee is to prevent Lolth's will. I fear that something truly sinister looms on the horizon. We must discover why the Matron Mothers have called for light in Rubernenassad. I believe that if we discern the Council's intent concerning the light, we will know better what course we must take. I will look to my sources, and I suggest you look to yours. You are the Elderboy of House Denda'rada. Return to your home and gather whatever information you are able. Return tomorrow at your appointed time and we will discuss what we both find. Does this course seem sound Zengo?"
"Yes, my Master, your wisdom is as always sound. I will return tomorrow with any news I may gather." Zengo bows deeply and makes his way back to the domicile of House Denda'rada.
The dark beauty of Rubernenassad always captivates you. This walk home from Sorcere to House Denda'rada used to be one of few peaceful moments you had for yourself. Now however, with the discovery of your first kindred soul amongst your people, you dare to hope that peace will come more often. The hours you just spent learning of your Archmages Goddess were thoroughly enjoyable. As is the acknowledged friendship that now exists for you and your mentor.
You walk past the mushroom grove and into the elaborate grounds that mark House Denda'rada. Growing up as Elderboy of Rubernenassad's 2nd most powerful house has had it's privileges. Your family owns some of the most beautiful grounds in all of the city, second only to House Despana in size and grandeur. Your family boasts a Drow Army of almost 2000 strong making your home one of the safest in all of the city.
You pass through the main gates as the guards move out of your way, saluting you as a Drow Noble of your station. You immediately see the spider dedications to Lolth intricately crafted into the decor of the main house. You choke back the revulsion, knowing that secrecy and a trained mind will be important if you are to hide your thoughts from your Matron Mother, and your 2 younger High Priestess sisters. You and your younger brother were trained early on that you are second class citizens in the matriarchal society of the Drow. To forget your station is to earn punishment at the end of the snake headed whips of the Priestesses.
As you enter the house proper you are intercepted by your oldest sister, Triarra Denda'rada. She looks at you with hateful red eyes and says, "Elderboy, how goes your final month within Sorcere?" Your guard comes up as you know your eldest sister so enjoys tormenting you, the venom plain in her tone.
Zengo, having experienced years of ridicule and pain at Triarra's whims, is well versed on how to deal with her cruelty. Meekly, Zengo stares at a spot on the ground two feet in front of her boots, and bows his form in supplication. Quietly, head bent, he responds to her implied taunt. "Sincerest thanks to you, High Priestess, for taking the time to address me. I know many more worthy things fill your day than addressing your underlings. In response, the hateful light of Surmundil burns in my head even yet, continuing the torture given to us by the council for reasons which a lower form such as myself cannot understand..." Zengo allows his words to trail off, assessing if Triarra, in her arrogance, will reveal any details of the council's plans.
Triarra laughs as her tone goes sarcastic. "The depth of your weakness is stunning Elderboy. If you weren't so strategically placed within Sorcere, I feel Matron Sinnafae would prompt the Secondboy's ascension to Firstboy." Your sisters brazen confirmation towards the Drow method of ascent staggers you. Ascension through murder is totally acceptable within Drow society so long as it is executed flawlessly and without witnesses. Triarra's mention of it out load confirms your younger sisters absolute disgust for you.
She looks to you intently awaiting a response, hoping beyond all hope that she will be able to whip you this day.
Zengo maintains his deferential demeanor, and not breaking his gaze from its position, replies simply "Then it is a fortunate thing for me indeed. Is there anything you require of me this moment, High Priestess, or do I have your leave to cease offending you with my presence?"
"The Matron Mother wishes to see you worm. Begone from my sight." With that, Triarra turns and walks down the hall, totally sure of herself.
Zengo allows the briefest sighs of relief to escape his lips. "Poor, lost Triarra. Our society takes fragile souls like hers and twists them beyond all compass, leaving ruins that can only spew forth hate and fear. That being said, at least she left disappointed. If I were cut from frailer cloth, I would be planning her assassination right now. Ah well, I hope to one day proudly announce my utter failure to be a 'real drow' to the world..." With that, Zengo begins the ascent up the grand staircase to the main receiving chamber, where Sinnafae often holds court. "Now, I wonder what Mommie Dearest could want with the likes of me...I need to maintain focus, for she is not nearly as impetuous as sis, and therefore far more dangerous..."
The door opens and you follow Triarra into the audience chamber. The whole of the noble line of Daermon D'nezdaraddadon, House Denda'rada, stands assembled kneeling in supplication to Matron Sinnafae Denda'rada.
House Denda'rada's Weapon Master and secondboy, Bromnafein Denda'rada, likewise kneels.
Matron Sinnafae is also flanked by your other younger sisters, Crea Denda'rada, now almost a High Priestess like Triarra, and Alianna Denda'rada, just at the beginnings of her studies of Lolth.
With the House Nobility assembled, Matron Sinnafae says, "It is time. Time for Daermon D'Nezdaradaddon to take it's rightful place as 1st House of Rubernenassad. Through my communion with the handmaidens of Lolth, I have learned that Matron Grella Despana has erred. One of her house has angered Lolth, and now the 1st House is weakened. If the Spider Queen remains displeased, we will be able to mount a well organized attack on House Despana with the Spider Queen's blessing. Our ascendence will be assured. With all of you strategically placed among the upper echelons of the city, and in close proximity to the sons and daughters of Matron Grella, have any of you seen or heard anything that would have angered Lolth from any of the scions of House Despana?"
Knowing full well that all assembled understand that Zengo is apprenticed to Szordrin Despana, Zengo quickly thinks on what he can say that would deflect suspicion. Remaining kneeling and with his gaze firmly on the ground, Zengo replies. "Most Honored Matron, I report that I had a conversation with my Master, Szordrin Despana, on matters not directly related to my studies. In my weakness, my body must have betrayed that the light of Surmundil caused me lasting pain. Szordrin commented that the light was, and I quote, 'brutal this cycle'. When I agreed and confessed my discomfort, he derided me for my weakness. Perhaps Almighty Lolth is displeased that he labelled her will in ungrateful terms? Of course, there is an additional impossible explanation..." After a slight pause, as if mulling if it were even worth the trouble speaking, Zengo continues. "Of course, if the light of Surmundil, which Szordrin casts, is somehow displeasing Almighty Lolth, that would certainly cause removal of favor. But that's impossible as the High Priestesses declare it is the will of the Goddess herself."
"Lolth's light is sanctioned by the Spider Queen, this I know. If the Archmages comment angered the Spider Queen then all of the Drow in Rubernenassad would fall from her favor."
The Matron Mother looks at you deeply.
"Has the Archmage done anything else that you can think of that would have angered Lolth?"
Zengo does not move from his position, and keeps the same demeanor of deference in place. "Exalted Matron, although Szordrin Despana is from a rival house, I cannot find fault in any of his actions. He has held himself above reproach, and his service to our Glorious Goddess is inspiring. I can only hope to match his devotion and service in my meager life. My sincerest apologies for not being of more use to you."
Zengo reflects for a moment, then continues.
"If you would forgive the muddled thoughts of a male, I would bring an observation to bear. Szordrin's teaching dictate not to leave powerful enemies unchecked, or the foe you face one day may become too strong to overcome. If Szordrin's actions were in question, wouldn't he be in front of the High Inquisitors right now due to his obvious power as an Archmage, rather than having his house chided? It would seem a less powerful foe angered our Puissant Spider Goddess, to warrant such an action from Her..."
The Matron Mother regards your words a moment, then says, "I doubt the Archmage is the source of House Despana's woes. That old one has no real guile to him. When the time comes, I shall have you be rid of him Zengo, and then House Denda'rada will hold the Archmages seat at Sorcere!" The evil glint of ambition sparkles from Matron Sinnafae's eyes!
Zengo replies, "I look forward to the time, Honored Matron, when my power can rival my current Master's. In service to our House." Zengo bows even further. Zengo's mind races. "That was too close. I dare not pry into the purpose of the Light of Surmundil right now, lest suspicion fall upon me for asking too many questions. I will wait until dismissed to hear if anyone else offers something that can illuminate the Council's dark rationales." Zengo remains bowed, waiting for someone else to speak and the collective attention of his wicked house to pass from him.
"Matron Mother, a surface raid is planned in the next tenday. I could ask Varaxor Despana why his family has fallen out with the Spider Queen." The Secondboy of House Denda'rada says with a devious grin to match his mothers. You know that Varaxor is the youngest of the Despana's and in his final year at the fighters school, Melee Magthere. Bromnafein is his Instructor.
Matron Sinnafae smiles and thinks. After a moment, she says, "A dangerous task that must be executed with the utmost care. I will make sure that Zengo accompanies the raiding party to ensure success. Zengo, will you be able to help your Brother interrogate the Despana?"
Zengo replies quickly, "Of course, Honored Matron. Provided, of course, that my Master Szordrin releases me from any duties for that foray. I would not wish to arouse suspicion in another Despana by shirking my responsibilities to him for what presumably is a routine event normally conducted by Varaxor alone."
"Every 5 years, we send the newest Drow Warriors, a Mage, and a Drow Priestess on a surface raid. You know this. As the Apprentice of the Archmage of Rubernenassad, you have the right to request to be this raid's Magic User. You will do so, and you and your Brother will glean whatever information you can from Varaxor Despana."
The Matron Mother looks to the rest of those gathered. Suddenly, she looks over her shoulder, obviously engaged in some psychic conversation with the Illithid.
"Very well. Go my sons, and accomplish your mission for the ascendance of House Despana."
You and your Brother bow and obediently walk out of the hall leaving the Matron Mother and your High Priestess sisters to their discussions.
Once outside, Bromnafein turns to you and says, "I so love the raids Zengo. Don't you?"
Zengo replies with feigned ease around his brother, knowing that in this relationship he slightly has the upper hand by mere rank order by birth. "The thrill of the hunt sets my blood afire like any good drow...but I personally can use less of the glare of the hated sun. Leaves me with a splitting headache for days after." Zengo muses to himself, "My fact finding mission for my beloved master has been, thus far, a bust. Mayhaps my younger sibling has heard something in his travels..." Continuing on, Zengo speaks after a brief pause. "Do you think the light of Surmundil is designed to toughen us up, or punish us? I have not heard of any true rationale for this torture, brother mine...have you?"
"None. I was wondering what the Archmage said to you about it. What do you know Zengo?"
Zengo replies, "Sadly, very little. I feel that the Archmage takes no joy in causing the light, but that does not stop him from performing his duties. He will not speak on the matter to me, a mere apprentice. Ah well, maybe our foray to the surface will cast off some of the mystery..." Thinking that it might build a bit more comraderie, Zengo continues, in a slightly conspiratorial tone. "Are our sisters torturing you as much as I, Brother?"
"As always. All of them except Alliana. She is too soft, that one. I fear that as she learns to be a Priestess at Arach Tinilith, her cruelty will explode out towards us. Enough of this for now though. I go to prepare for the raid. Bromnafein turns on his and walks away without a backward glance.
Zengo approaches the guard standing outside the Hall where his mother and sisters are conversing. "Guard, please notify Honored Matron that I am requesting of Archmage Szordrin to be the rading party's Mage this year. I will be back within an hour if she requires any more conversation with me." Not expecting or asking for acknowledgment, Zengo continues playing his role as the Elderboy and leaves without waiting for a response. He begins his journey back to the domicile of Archmage Szordrin.
You leave House Denda'rada and arrive back at the Archmage's domicile within Sorcere. You approach the door and it opens magically allowing you back inside. The Archmage is expecting you.
You enter and see the the Archmage, sitting in conversation with a huge armored figure. "...here he is now." The ancient Drow rises and moves towards you. "Zengo, this is Xaad, unofficial Weapon Master of House Despana."
The armored creature bows, and you immediately realize that the immense warrior is an Orc.
He grunts at you in Undercommon, "I am honored to meet you."
Zengo pauses, trying to think of a scenario where a race typically enslaved would ally with and be given a position of respect within a Drow House. Pushing aside his questions, he bows in return and replies "The honor is mine, Weapons Master." Turning to Szordrin, he continues. "Beloved Master, I return to you not with answers to the questions you seek but with news of a pending attack on your House." Looking between the two other inhabitants of the room, Zengo continues. "But I see I was the topic of conversation as I walked in, so I defer to your judgment on what we will discuss first." Zengo bows deeply.
"House Denda'rada seeks the destruction of House Despana? An interesting development. They must have heard of Lolth's displeasure. I'll have to see what must be done."The Archmage seems to consider everything he knows for a moment. He looks up to see you looking at the Orc intently. He turns to the Orc and the Orc nods back as if in approval."Do you have questions about my friend here?"
Zengo replies, "I will start with the obvious. How did an Orc survive this long, let alone maintain a position of respect, within a House of the Drow? I am having a difficult time comprehending how a Drow in our corrupt society would take instruction from anyone not of our race..." Zengo trails off, eager for the answer. "Could it be that other members of my society can be turned to the right and just?" Zengo thinks to himself.
"My name is Xaad. Or would you rather I refer to you as Drow?"
The Orc removes his helmet staring at you with the predatory eyes inherent in his species. His demeanor and tone though, is eerily calm.
The Archmage watches the exchange intently.
Zengo understands his gaffe and quickly replies, "My apologies, Xaad. Offense was not intended. I am shocked that any of your species would be in your position, and hence I used a generic term. Please allow me rephrase, respectfully. May I inquire as to how you personally, Xaad the de facto Weapons Master of House Despana, managed the seemingly impossible feat of rising to a position of respect within my corrupt society?"