Insurrection

TWELVE

Matron Mother Zauvirr wasn't merely angry. Angry was for subordinates who knew to hold their tongues in the presence of their superiors despite their feelings. Angry was for those times when you had to slap a child because it didn't know any better. No, angry wasn't nearly strong enough a word to describe what Ssipriina was feeling. Someone was going to pay for this foolishness. Someone was going to die.

She stormed through the hallways of her own House Zauvirr, having slipped out of Drisinils manor during the confusion and magically transported herself back home. There was something she wanted to get, something she needed, though she hadn't expected to, when the day started. She almost hoped that someone would cross her path as she marched along, that someone would make the mistake of accosting her, of interrupting her train of thought for some idiotic and perfectly pointless reason. She really hoped they would … it would be fun, in a distracting sort of way, to watch some hapless male bleed out as she ripped him up. She was furious enough to do it with her bare hands.

A guard would do nicely, she thought. Any foolish boy who even looks at me.

All of her planning, wasted. All of the careful manipulation, the bribes, the theft, the smuggling of valuables and troops, even the fortuitous arrival of the damnable Menzoberranyr and her clever scheme to fit them into the plan was for naught. Someone had blundered, and she would have his head.

I had them in the palm of my hand, Ssipriina thought. They were ready to anoint me. Even after that ridiculous story the wizard made up.

That obvious attempt to derail her plans wouldn't have stopped her. No one would have believed him, even after her foolish daughter reacted. Ssipriina thought Faeryl had sounded like the petulant child that she still was.

I should never have brought her in on this.

Ssipriina realized her mind was wandering. It was the fury, keeping her from thinking straight.

Faeryl I can deal with later. There's nothing to be done except to fight and win, but it would have been so much easier if the gray dwarves had remained out of sight. Who told them to move out?

As the matron mother arrived at her rooms, she decided that ferreting out the guilty party would also have to wait until later. Her full attention was needed elsewhere. She was about to spring something on the entire city. Something very special. Ssipriina grinned when she imagined it.

Faeryl stumbled and fell against the corridor wall when House Melarn first began to shake.

The servants were screaming, and from somewhere she heard, «Mistresses! It's duergar! Hundreds of them, surrounding us. . they're attacking!»

A second shock wave rumbled through the House.

«They burn the stones themselves, Mothers. The city is burning!»

With a sinking feeling, Faeryl knew it for the truth. She had lived through this experience before, though it had been in the bowels of House Baenre, chained to a column. Even so, she remembered the rumbles from above, felt the vibrations in the ground. When she had been freed by Triel Baenre and invited to join the mission to Ched Nasad, she had gotten all the details of the insurrection in the streets of Menzoberranzan from others. Their descriptions of the jugs of fire, the fire that burned stone itself, were vivid. She could only imagine what it would feel like on a web street of Ched Nasad.

Faeryl groaned. Her mother's plan was falling apart. The duergar weren't supposed to appear unless the negotiations with the other matron mothers went badly. Despite that idiot Pharaun's asinine claim of her involvement in the conspiracy, the situation was far from out of hand.

Mother pulled the trigger too soon, the ambassador decided. She must have gotten cold feet and didn't bother to tell me. How typical.

Shaking her head, Faeryl scrambled up to her feet again as the room was enveloped in a thick, murky fog. She knew who was most likely behind it. As much as she wanted to slice Pharaun into a thousand tiny pieces, there was too much confusion.

Besides, the ambassador grudgingly admitted, he and his boys are not to be trifled with. I'll let mothers wizards take care of them. I've got to get rid of Quenthel and that loathsome beast.

Faeryl felt her way along the wall, stumbling as yet another blast rocked House Melarn. The mist cleared, and she could hear the sounds of combat on the far side of the room. She resisted the temptation to look, as much as she hoped to catch a glimpse of the wizard's demise. Instead, she managed to make her way to a door just as several dozen House soldiers came in, jostling her aside in their efforts to defend the audience chamber.

«Fools!» Faeryl hissed at them.

Almost shaking with rage, she departed the audience chamber and hurried toward the lower levels. She passed few other drow in the corridors, all of them looking confused. None of them seemed to know the origin of the disturbances, and at one point the ambassador overheard at least three priestesses discussing an earthquake as they passed her, going the opposite direction.

Faeryl didn't care to explain to them what was really happening. It was not her House. Turning a final corner, the ambassador hurried into the torture chamber where she had left Quenthel and Jeggred. They were not there. The room was not empty, however. One of the House torturemasters was methodically straightening tools that had been upset with the booming thumps from outside.

«Where are they?» Faeryl demanded, gesturing to the rack where Quenthel had been restrained.

The torturemaster turned and looked at her vacantly, not understanding.

Growling in exasperation, the ambassador repeated herself.

The other drow looked at her, then comprehension lit his features.

«Oh, they're not here,» he said.

Faeryl rolled her eyes and said, «I can see that, you foolish boy. Where are they?»

«That ugly drow, Zammzt, ordered them taken to a cell,» the torturemaster replied. «I saw to it personally.»

Another severe blast rocked the room, and tools were scattered everywhere. Faeryl managed to grab hold of the column where Jeggred had been chained for support, but the other drow was not so lucky. He went down in a pile—and even more unfortunately, one of the many braziers of hot coals tipped over onto him, showering him with burning cinders. Screaming, the drow scrambled away from the embers, but he was already a conflagration, his clothes ignited and smoking as he flailed helplessly about.

Faeryl bit her lip in irritation.

Now, why do you suppose he would have moved them, and to where? she thought, turning to leave.

She decided she'd have to ask someone to show her, and she departed.

Pharaun faltered for only a moment at the sight of the two drow priestesses before him. One, quite simply, was beautiful. The other, while lacking the graceful curves and fluid motion of the first, was obviously nobly born and not unpleasant to look at, either. Then, getting a closer look, the wizard recognized her. She was the drow who had been in chains in the audience chamber only moments before. In fact, he realized, she still wore the manacles she'd been shackled with, though the connecting chain between them had been severed. Neither of the females looked happy to see him, Ryld, or Valas.

«Damn,» Pharaun muttered, returning to his senses.

He reached inside his piwafwi, fumbling quickly for the wand he'd used to dispatch the drow soldiers not too long before. In front of him, Ryld went on guard, raising Splitter into an aggressive position as he advanced warily. Valas slipped to the opposite side of the hallway, automatically fanning out with Ryld to come at the adversaries from either flank.

The lovely creature who'd first caught the mage's eye hissed in vexation and brought a morning star out in front of her. She had a buckler on her other arm held to the side where Valas was closing.

«It's them!» she snarled, taking up a position in front of the other drow as though to defend her.

Both dark elves seemed quite capable of taking care of themselves, and Pharaun noted the finely tooled chain mail each of them wore. The one to the rear actually sported the House Melarn insignia on hers, and the wizard guessed she must be one of the dead matron mother's daughters.

Pharaun had his wand out, but before he could invoke the trigger words to use the thing, Ryld stepped in and launched a short series of strikes at the dark elfin front of him, who managed with some difficulty to parry the attacks with both her weapon and her buckler. The Master of Sorcere knew that Ryld was not really pressing his attack yet. The weapons master was attempting to size up the skill of his competition with a few well-placed feints before closing in to finish the job efficiently. Valas continued to creep in from her other side, and she back-stepped more than once to prevent the scout from getting behind her. Pharaun aimed the wand and prepared to recite the activation phrase, when the other drow, the daughter of House Melarn, spoke up, causing him to falter.

«Hold, Danifae.»

The drow in front retreated another couple steps, but she did not drop her guard.

«We have no quarrel with you,» the still-unnamed Melarn said. «I know you don't have reason to trust us, but we're not the enemy. . They are.»

She gestured upward, to the floors above.

Ryld took a threatening step forward then he too stopped and held his guard. Valas was watching both sides with glittering eyes, kukris at the ready.

«How convenient,» Pharaun said, smiling coldly. «The imperiled daughter, implicated in her mother's treason and with no friends, making a peace offering. At least until we let down our guard, right? Then you turn us over to Matron Mother Zauvirr, claim you captured us, and hope she lets you off the hook.»

«I could easily say the same about you, but I won't,» the Melarn daughter replied. Without taking her eyes off Pharaun, she added, «Danifae, I said stand down!»

Pharaun raised an eyebrow at her tone of command. Danifae nodded in acquiescence, stepping farther back until she was side by side with her mistress.

«Well, you're right about that,» Pharaun said. «We don't have any reason to believe you. If you're on the outs with Mistress Zauvirr, what are you doing down here, all decked out in your finest armor?»

«We're trying to save our own skins,» the daughter said, a bit more testily than Pharaun thought necessary, considering she was trying to broker some sort of truce, albeit temporary. «I think we both might have been played by Ssipriina Zauvirr. If you come with us, help us, we might be able to get you information that will help prove it.»

«Lower your weapons to the ground,» Ryld said, «and we'll consider listening to you.»

«I think not,» the daughter countered. «At least, not until we have some assurances that you won't attack us the moment we do. I don't know for sure that you weren't in league with my mother.»

Ryld snarled, raising Splitter and advancing again. Valas was doing likewise, still looking to maneuver around to the priestesses' left side.

«Ryld, Valas, wait,» Pharaun called out quietly.

He had no doubt that the two warriors could dispatch the drow females with relatively little difficulty, as long as the wizard was backing them up with a careful selection of spells, but he was intrigued. Ryld cast a quick glance back over his shoulder at the wizard then shrugged and held his ground.

«I can assure you that we have never met your mother and had no dealings with her, ever. That wild tale in the audience chamber above was merely a contrivance to stall for time—ruffle everyone's feathers, so to speak. You seem to know who we are,» Pharaun said, addressing the daughter of House Melarn, «but we are at a disadvantage. Who are you, and what is this information you are planning to use to buy our trust?»

In a flash of bluish light, Valas was stepping through a dimensional doorway, and as the one named Danifae turned to face the point where the scout had been standing only a split-second earlier, the Bregan D'aerthe scout was behind her, one hand gripping her wrist tightly where she held her morning star, the other hand holding a kukri at the line where her jawbone faded into her graceful neck. Though she was several inches taller than the scout, Valas was easily able to keep her overbalanced by shifting his hip under hers and levering her up off her feet.

Danifae's eyes bulged wide as she realized she'd been outmaneuvered, and she flailed about helplessly for a second or two until she grasped that the blade was at her neck, at which point she froze.

«Lay them down,» Ryld said to both drow females, gesturing to their weapons with his greatsword. «To the floor, nice and quietly.»

The Melarn daughter gasped in surprise at Valas's maneuver, narrowed her eyes, and took half a step toward her companion. When she realized she was outmatched, she sighed and settled her mace to the floor at her feet. Danifae sagged a bit in Valas's grasp and relinquished her weapon to the other female, who set that down as well.

«Excellent!» Pharaun said as Ryld kicked the two weapons safely away. «That wasn't so bad, now was it?»

«You could have trusted us,» the daughter spat. «We gave you no reason not to.»

Pharaun laughed out loud. Ryld stifled a chuckle of his own, and Valas, who released Danifae but kept his kukri carefully placed in the small of her back, was grinning behind her.

«You are a dark elf,» the wizard said finally, regaining his composure. «That alone is enough for me not to trust you, but beyond that, if you think we're going to trust anyone in this cursed city, you're the biggest fool I've met in a while. Yet, I am not completely uninterested in negotiating, so you may still get a chance to redeem yourself. You can start by answering my questions. Who are you, and what is the nature of this information?»

The Melarn daughter grimaced but finally answered, «I am Halisstra Melarn, as you have surmised by now, I'm sure. This is Danifae, my personal servant. What I meant was, your friend the high priestess and her demon companion aren't dead.»

Pharaun felt his eyes bulge at this revelation. He heard both Ryld and Valas breathe in sharply.

«Really,» the mage said, trying to sound offhand as he regained his composure, «and how would you know that?»

«Because I've seen them,» Danifae, still locked in Valas's grip, answered.

«Apparently,» Halisstra said, «Ssipriina Zauvirr simply told everyone that the priestess was dead so that there would be no demands for her side of the story. They probably should have killed them, but I guess Faeryl had other plans for her.»

At the mention of the ambassador, Pharaun tilted his head.

«You know Faeryl Zauvirr?» he asked.

«Yes,» Halisstra replied, «I know her. We grew up together. Since our Houses have—or rather, had — a business relationship, her mother and mine spent quite a bit of time together. She might very well be with the Baenre priestess right now. I suspect she's torturing them both.»

«Is that so?» Pharaun asked.

Ryld, who still had his greatsword trained on the two females, snorted, «Why does that not surprise me?»

«I wonder how the esteemed high priestess managed to get herself caught in the first place?» Pharaun pondered aloud.

«It was an ambush,» Halisstra said. «When they were at a Black Claw Mercantile storehouse. Faeryl was in on it, I guess. Her mother met them there with a host of guards who subdued the high priestess and the demon that was with them. They claim they had to kill my mother, who was trying to escape, though now I wonder if she truly is dead.»

«Well now,» Pharaun said, even more intrigued than before, «some things are beginning to make more sense. Now I know why Faeryl was being so agreeable during the trip here. She wanted Quenthel to go to the storehouse. It was their plan to take Quenthel all along.»

«Not just Quenthel, but all of you,» said Halisstra. «I'm guessing she intended to capture all of you at once, but when you didn't appear at the storehouse with the others she had to amend her plan. She'd be quite pleased, I'm sure, if you were all dead.»

«Yes,» the mage said wryly, «we were informed of that very fact not an hour ago. Needless to say, we weren't too keen on the idea, ourselves.»

«So where's Mistress Baenre?» Ryld demanded. «We're going to find her and leave. You can help us or join everyone else who's gotten in our way thus far.»

Halisstra looked appraisingly at the warrior.

«What is it you expect to accomplish by finding her?» she asked.

«We're going to get her out of here, and were going to go find—»

«Weapons Master Argith,» Pharaun interrupted, pulling the warrior to the side where they could talk privately. «I'm not sure that's really the wisest course of action. We need to get out of here before the whole House falls down, don't you agree?»

«And leave the Mistress of the Academy here?» Ryld countered. «We should try to find her.»

Pharaun looked questioningly at his companion and asked, «Why in the Underdark would we do that?»

Ryld's eyes flashed in anger.

«You may be eager to be rid of her, wizard,» he said, «but I am not.»

«Oh?» Pharaun replied, growing hot himself. «If I didn't know better, I would think you were sweet on the high priestess. Have you forgotten so soon her disdain for you?»

«Whatever your own ambitions are, I still serve the task I was given by Matron Mother Baenre and the rest of the High Council. Quenthel still plays a large part in that, and I have no desire to betray Menzoberranzan herself to suit my own personal vendettas.»

Another shock wave tore through House Melarn, and Pharaun was forced to rise into the air to keep his balance.

«Can we argue about this later?» Valas interjected, still gripping Danifae as the two of them tried to maintain their balance. «I agree with Ryld, at least for the moment. We may yet need Quenthel, who is still our best connection to the Dark Mother, and the only one who can tell us if we're succeeding in reconnecting with Lolth. If we do find Tzirik, it may behoove us to have her there.»

Pharaun sighed, chagrinned that he had raised his voice enough to be overheard.

«Very well,» he said. «We will attempt to find her before we depart, but remember what I said. If the House falls down around our ears, I will personally blame both of you.»

He smiled, hoping a little levity would ease the tensions. Ryld still scowled but nodded curtly once the decision was made.

Another rumbling shock wave rocked House Melarn and forced everyone to shift their feet in order to keep their balance. Halisstra looked around with no small level of concern in her eyes.

«If you want to find your high priestess, then let me take you to her,» she said. «Danifae and I have no quarrel with you, as I admitted before, and everything I've told you thus far is the truth. We have no allies here, and neither do you. Joining together could be mutually beneficial.»

«All right,» Pharaun said. «We'll suppose for the moment that we're going to trust you to take us to her. It will make our chances of getting out of here in one piece markedly better, but just to make certain you don't consider trying anything, shall we say, troublesome, I think Danifae here will accompany us with her arms bound behind her. Valas and I will keep a good eye on her while you and Ryld keep to the front.»

Danifae's eyes widened the slightest bit in protest at the suggestion, but Halisstra nodded after only a moment's consideration.

«Very well,» she agreed. «We'll do it your way—for now. First, you must do something for me. You must answer a question, if you can. What is the state of things out on the streets? I have not had a chance to find out for myself since the shock waves began.»

Pharaun shrugged helplessly.

«I fear I cannot tell you with any degree of accuracy,» he said. «You were in the audience chamber when the attacks began and heard the warning cry. These duergar appear to be organized, though. My suspicion is that someone else, someone powerful, is behind them.»

Halisstra looked sharply at the wizard and asked, «What gives you that impression?»

«The blasts we're feeling are due to incendiary alchemy. We encountered similar destruction back home recently. Whoever is supplying the duergar with them may be associated with the forces we dealt with in Menzoberranzan, and I will warn you now, the stone does indeed burn. We will be at risk as long as we remain inside your House.»

Halisstra looked fearful, but she nodded in thanks.

«Then the sooner I can get you what you want, the sooner we can get outside and find out for sure. Danifae, I want you to comply with their instructions. Do you understand me?»

With a small sigh, the other drow female nodded.

«Yes, Mistress,» she answered then moved over so that Valas could use a length of cord to bind her hands securely behind her back.

«Wonderful. It's nice to see how we're all getting along so well together,» Pharaun said. «Now, Halisstra Melarn, why don't you lead the way?»

«Before I do, allow me to help you in a more immediate way. Let me heal your injuries.»

Pharaun glanced over at Ryld, who subtly shook his head, frown-ing. Shrugging, the wizard decided to ignore his companion's con-cerns. His face hurt where the acid had burned him.

«All right,» he answered, «you can tend to me. But if this is a trick, my two compatriots here will see to it that it never happens again.»

«I understand,» Halisstra said. «I'm just going to pull a wand out, so please don't get jumpy, all right?»

Pharaun nodded and waited as the daughter of Drisinil Melarn produced the wand and utilized it. The mage immediately felt the effects of the divine magic and breathed a sigh of relief.

«Thank you,» he said.

Quickly enough, Halisstra similarly healed both Ryld and Valas.

«There. . you see?» she said, tucking the wand away again. «We really are on your side.»

«Indeed,» Pharaun replied noncommittally. «We'll just develop the trust slowly, I think. If you please?» he said, gesturing down the hallway.

Halisstra eyed the wizard for a moment, as if assessing whether or not she was making a mistake, then turned and set off down the corridor. Ryld walked close by her side, Splitter hovering protectively close to her.

Aliisza was not certain exactly when the battle outside the noble House had gotten so out of hand, but it was clearly becoming a major engagement, drawing the attention of the entire city.

Sitting on the edge of a building that hung off the side of a web street several street levels above the raging combat, her feet dangling off into space, she watched anxiously as yet another wave of goblins and kobolds crashed into the ranks of duergar positioned around the spacious structure.

The alu wasn't sure why she felt worry over the outcome of the clash. Oh, she understood well enough that she actually felt concern for Pharaun's well-being. She just didn't understand why she did. She wouldn't have imagined that she would care at all for the drow, and indeed her feelings were nothing close to true affection. Still, she found him clever and amusing, and she had enjoyed her time with him earlier in the day.

I guess I'm just not through with him, she decided.

So she waited and watched, wondering if he was going to get out alive. She knew he might have managed to transport himself and his two companions someplace else by means of an extradimensional doorway or similar magic. That was the most likely possibility, actually, and she doubted he was still inside. For some reason, though, she felt compelled to stay and watch. Something in the back of her mind told her that the wizard was still there.

At least the battle is interesting, Aliisza mused.

The gray dwarves had soundly defeated the initial force of drow, pinning the dark elves between the two lines of attackers like steel caught between hammer and anvil. The dark elves were flattened and slaughtered in a matter of moments. Some lucky few had managed to get inside the front door of the manse, but the duergar were in the process of battering that down. Aliisza doubted the portal would hold much longer.

Beyond the walls of the estate, more drow marched to relieve the siege or perhaps to gain their fair share of the spoils. Arriving quickly, driving slave troops before them, the new force was larger than the duergar's, and the gray dwarves found their position reversed, defending the house rather than attacking it. Though the goblins and kobolds outnumbered the duergar by a substantial ratio, they were no match for the gray dwarves' battle tactics and incendiary pots. Three times, the drow had forced their army of lesser beings to assault the walls, and three times they had been repulsed, suffering heavy casualties.

Aliisza understood the tactic all too well, though. The duergar were forced to expend magic to defend themselves, and the drow were happy to sacrifice their shock troops in exchange for draining the gray dwarves' reserves of magic. They were only slaves, after all. A few more waves, and perhaps the duergar would begin to break.

The only problem, Aliisza realized, was that the duergar had utilized such a large quantity of the incendiary clay pots that most of the plaza was burning. The air was getting thick with smoke, and the drow were forced to stay back from the spreading conflagration. In several places, the palatial house was burning too, and Aliisza wondered how much damage the building could sustain before it began to break apart. Though she knew the stone-shaping forces used to build the city had made the web streets and their attached structures as strong as steel, the abode was still precariously perched. If enough of the stone burned, the whole house might break away.

That would be a sight to see.

Aliisza spotted a commotion down a side street, not far from the plaza where the bulk of the fighting had been taking place. There were a handful of drow there, but little else. The alu supposed they might have been a scouting or screening force.

The fiend decided to move in for a closer look. She stepped over the side of the roof and dropped down to another, two levels below, magically slowing her descent. She crouched low as a half-giant passed, not wanting to distract the creature.

The half-giant strode along the wide street, its war axe held loosely in its hand. The blade of the weapon was slick with blood, dripping a trail behind it as it moved. The air was thick with smoke.

A gang of dark elves, soldiers led by priestesses and wizards, poured into the street in the distance, organized and grim, seeking to stop the half-giant. Before they could take three steps in the direction of their quarry, a huge chunk of something crashed to the street between them. The weight of it shook the street, and the sound it made was like a thousand blades striking a thousand shields. It made the half-giant nearly fall, and it had to drop to one knee before it completely lost its balance.

Aliisza peered through the smoke to see what had landed atop the web street. It was nothing but a smoking pile of rock, but the fiend could tell that it had been a part of the street overhead. Actually, it looked like part of the street and a couple of buildings. The whole pile of rubble was ablaze, thick plumes of smoke pouring off it. She looked up, wondering where the chunk of the city had come from.

Even through the smoky haze, Aliisza could see a thoroughfare above them, crossing at an angle, connecting to the besieged House. A large chunk of the road was missing, as if a huge bite had been taken out of the immense spiderweb strand. Flames still licked the stone of the causeway where it had broken off, bringing a small part of the House with it. The rest of the immense structure still sat where it had, but Aliisza realized that more of it could go at any moment. The alu saw how dangerous it was to be down there, below the burning stone.

The half-giant must have sensed this too, for it turned to move back along the street, retracing its steps. That's when a second drow patrol came into view. It was a small group, no more than five or six, but their leader was a wizard, and he had a wand in his hand. The wizard gestured with the wand and a crackling bolt of electricity shot out of the end of it, catching the half-giant square in the chest. The creature howled in pain as its hair burned away. It nearly dropped its war axe, and even after the attack was over, Aliisza saw that the beast couldn't work its fingers right for a moment. The dark elves swarmed toward it, crossbows and swords out and ready.

The half-giant wasn't so easily felled. Aliisza watched, fascinated, as the towering humanoid fumbled in its hip pouch and pulled out a handful of clay jugs. From one knee, it threw them in the direction of the charging drow. Miraculously, its aim was very good, and almost all of the containers flew toward the dark elves, who shied away when they saw what was coming. The jugs shattered on the street and burst into flame, sending a wall of fire and smoke skyward in a blast that Aliisza could feel on her face.

By the Abyss, Aliisza breathed, unable to tear her gaze away from this wonderful display of destruction.

Drow leaped clear of the attack and scrambled to get away from the conflagration, which charred the street in seconds. A couple of the dark elves managed to escape to the half-giant's side of the fire. Realizing they were pinned between the half-giant and the blaze, they looked for some avenue of escape, eyeing the huge beast warily.

Lumbering to its feet again, the half-giant began striding purposefully toward them, gripping its war axe with both hands. Almost as one, the drow turned and fled to the side of the street, leaping over the edge and drifting downward into the smoky vastness below.

At almost the same moment, the street shifted, tilting sideways, and the half-giant stumbled toward the edge. Aliisza watched as the massive humanoid looked around wildly, trying to find out why its footing had grown precarious so suddenly. She saw, too, that the fire it had started with its incendiary pots had already burned through a significant portion of the calcified webbing that was the street, and it was coming apart. The other end had already been weakened by the impact from the rubble, and a whole section of thoroughfare shifted and groaned. The alu knew it wouldn't remain together for much longer.

Amazingly, the half-giant ran toward the fire, taking great, lumbering strides that shook the crumbling roadway and caused chunks of it to fall away from the fiery crack. As the entire path shuddered and snapped free, tipping downward, hinged where the pile of slag had dropped on it earlier, the creature leaped, crossing the distance, passing through the roiling flames. Aliisza's mouth dropped in amazement. The half-giant cleared the flames, reaching the other side, landing with a mammoth thump that made the projecting end of the street that was still intact quiver and bounce.

Behind the half-giant, the falling piece of street went tumbling down into the darkness below, eventually landing somewhere with a thunderous boom. Ahead of the towering humanoid, three drow stood staring at the hulking creature, mouths agape. Even from her vantage point, Aliisza could see that the half-giant smiled as it advanced. It raised its war axe and plodded forward. The wizard panicked and turned to flee, leaving only two soldiers to face the creature. Surprisingly, they turned as one to meet the advancing half-giant. One of the two took a tentative step forward, measuring where and how he would attack, when he was shoved hard from behind by his companion, who turned and retreated.

The first drow stumbled, off-balance, right into the path of the half-giant. Aliisza smirked. The fleeing dark elf was sacrificing his partner so that he could escape.

Raising its war axe, the half-giant prepared to cleave the sprawled male in half. Desperately, the dark elf raised his long sword and rammed it into the half-giant's stomach.

The creature roared, arching its back, and its downward swing went awry, biting through the drow's arm instead of his torso. The dark elf screamed as the half-giant fell forward, collapsing on him and driving the sword deeper into itself.

The soldier had dealt the killing blow, Aliisza realized, as the half-giant lay on top of him, unmoving. The boy cried out in pain. He was trapped, pinned beneath the half-giant's weight and with only one good arm to try to free himself.

«Ilphrim! Ilphrim, help me!» the drow cried out, but Ilphrim was long gone, and the fire burned closer.

Aliisza sighed. The battle had been particularly entertaining, but it appeared to be over, though the wounded drow pinned beneath the half-giant still squirmed occasionally. She considered his companion's treachery, pushing him into the path of the rampaging half-giant, to be very clever. She laughed quietly.

The trapped and dying drow moved his arm again, futilely trying to shift the weight of the half-giant off himself so he could wriggle free, but Aliisza knew he would never do it, not with only one arm.

In a sudden and very uncharacteristic act of compassion, the alu-fiend leaped off her perch and floated down to where the dark elf lay feebly squirming. The drow spotted her and tensed, eyeing her warily. She only smiled and nudged a discarded dagger a bit closer to him, so that it was within reach of his free hand. Stepping back, she waited and watched to see if he would do the right thing.

The drow contemplated her for a moment, then he seemed to nod in understanding. He took hold of the dagger and saluted Aliisza with it before he started cutting pieces off the half-giants corpse. It was going to take a while, and it was already messy, but he might just cut his way free before the web street collapsed.

Smiling in satisfaction, Aliisza turned away and headed back up to her original vantage point, worrying anew over Pharauns fate.