“Alright jalil… we rest here,” the drowess said as she stopped near a cave mouth of impenetrable darkness.

“Del’heen mallla,” it sounded somewhere from behind her.

Small, loose stones littering the rocky floor caused her almost to trip as she finally caught up with her slim, lightweight mistress.

“Watch where you step, phindar,” the drowess snarled over her shoulder,” You are of no use to me when you break an arm.”
Lael’fryn, First Champion of House S’sril turned her gaze back to the cave in front of them. “Kyorlin,” she simply said and without looking back she made her way to the entrance.

From behind a mask made from strips of cloth wound directly around the head, nosetrils flared dangerously and air was drawn in with a muffled hiss. Violet eyes peering cold and rigid through a narrow slit in a mask that would be more suitable in a desert, narrowed at the drowess’ back as she moved stealthily over the rocks.


Xira plumped the heavy bags down beside her. Bags the two carriers had been hauling all the way from Menzoberranzan... until they found their death just when the small party had entered the Gauth Grottoes.
She pondered… with no one left from their party, now was perhaps a chance. But just when her hand reached for a space in her boot, cries of panic echoed through the narrow canyon. Xira’s hand instead went up to the handle of the blade attached on her back.

“Sreen, ryld! Ulu usstan!” Lael’fryn’s voice sounded from the darkness.

For a moment Xira almost obeyed the command of her mistress. But when growls and the sickening sound of flesh torn apart reached her ears, Xira didn’t think twice. She grabbed one of the bags, turned around and started to run in opposite direction.

“Usstan'sargh wael!!” it sounded behind her, and those were the last words she would ever have to hear from her mistress.


Xira ignored them. Distance was all what mattered right now and she wouldn’t be stopping for anything. And she sure as hell wasn’t turning around for a miserable attempt to save that twat’s life. Instead she ran the air out of her lungs but at some point her feet slipped outwards on the wet rock floor as she rounded a corner. She picked herself up and resumed running, with each footfall a jarring pain shooting from her ankle to her knee, and back. Her heart was beating frantically, yet… it was all or nothing cause whenever she stopped, her body would become a meal as well.

She had no idea of how long she had been running. Eventually she took a left into a narrow chasm that opened into an enormous cavern lit by thousands of fluorescent mushrooms. Xira’s jaw dropped as she faced the radiant blue water of a shimmering waterfall. She perked up her ears and listened carefully. Nothing but the sound of water washing over the rocks into a glowing pool. Safe… at last.

Xira looked a moment over her shoulder into that pitch black forest of stalactites and stalagmites and mumbled,” Yes, perhaps I am a phindar, but it was a phindar that got you hard…”

She paused a moment when she looked back at the ring of stone around the pool, her fingers clenching into a claw,”... and it wasn’t me this time.”

Drow dictionary

Sleep tends to come like the falling of a guillotine’s blade. You know it is coming, that it is inevitable, inescapable even when you try to fight it with all the energy you have. During such hours one is considered defenceless and especially in the Underdark that was not something you’d want. Unless you were bored of life of course. Something Xira wasn’t, but at some point sleep came just as instantaneous as it was unwelcome. Given the hours she had been resisting this, it could be sometime before she would be with the world again. Unless something would prevent this from happening…

For quite some time Xira was buried in her sleep, just a tired body wanting nothing more but to lay down. Her mind was all at peace, no carrousel of random thoughts, no lucid dream, no consciousness swirling in a land oblivious to the physical world. Nothing… except darkness. Until something tugged at the edge of her consciousness...


Speech somewhere in the distance… speech that was much more rapid than her own ordinary voice, reminding her of squabbling children but in a very very peculiar way.

“It is pretty…”

“It is mine…”

“It will hurt us…”

“But we are nine…”


Xira stirred in her sleep and rolled from her shoulder on her back, laying seemingly peaceful for a moment longer.

The voices turned more excited, and startled.

“It has a weapon…”

“It has a knife…”

“It can fight…”

“She will take life…”


Xira's eyes flew open as she realised the voices may not have been a dream. There was also a rhythmical cadence to them, and in a way almost pleasant to the ear. The first voice always seemed the youngest, while the last one seemed older than the rest, more wise, notifying and urging the others to take caution.

“It is awake…”

“Not more on its side…”

“It will find us…”

“We must now hide…”


The girl jumped up, a blade in each hand, and more than ready to sell her life dearly. Her light violet eyes flicked left and right with muscle constrictions and tingling around them as she crouched slowly. Invisible to anyone else, behind her mask Xira expressed a surge of anxiety when she couldn’t immediately track the source of the voices.

Then, her gaze shifted to the glowing pool and slowly she inched across the cave towards the water. When she leaned over the circular wall of rocks around the pool, the water was surprisingly clear yet she still couldn’t tell how deep it was. Her reflection shimmered perfect on its surface. But then, something flickered in the dephts, like tiny dancing lights.

Suddenly, beneath her reflection, another face appeared, alien yet with pretty almondshaped eyes. Before she could react, cold hands grabbed her wrists and yanked her under. The cold shock had her gasp for air, an involuntary reflex that caused her almost to drown right away as the air in her lungs was partially replaced by water. Her eyes dilated, tiny sparks of disbelief within them as she stared at a creature offering her three bubbles...