Zeerith sighed again. “Let us go,” she said. “I wish to greet our. . reinforcements as far from this room as possible.”
Deep in the mines, past the slave miners from Icewind Dale and those few remaining that had been taken from Port Llast, the drow contingent met up with the lesser demons in front of the march from Menzoberranzan.
Matron Mother Zeerith barred their way, and ordered several back to gather Marilith.
Demons continued to press, looking for a way past Matron Mother Zeerith. It wasn’t until she cast a spell of banishment, sending a large vrock back to its Abyssal home, that the others fell into order-at least, as much order as chaotic demons could manage. Still, they all knew that they might soon wash their bodies in mortal blood, and the threat of banishment proved incentive enough to keep them at bay until at last the giant Marilith slithered up to face the Matron of Q’Xorlarrin. “I am here by the word of Archmage Gromph Baenre,” Marilith stated flatly. “Sent to kill dwarves.”
“There are thousands to kill, I am told,” Matron Mother Zeerith replied. “Show me,” Marilith said, and her voice sounded very much like a purr, while the fingers of her six hands eagerly tickled the hilts of her belted weapons.
“There are many tunnels,” Zeerith replied, and she turned and motioned up the sloping corridor. “The first right-hand passages lead to Q’Xorlarrin. The place is secure, do not doubt, and any demons you send down that way will be destroyed or banished, at the least, by my defenses.” Marilith let out a little growl, clearly wanting to go down those tunnels simply because of the overt threat. “And where do the others lead, Matron Mother Zeerith?”
“This way and that,” the matron mother of Q’Xorlarrin replied. “This most ancient dwarven complex is indeed a vast compound, much of it still unexplored by my family. Any time you are climbing nearer the surface, know that you are moving closer to the dwarves who have come to this place, for they have not gained the lower corridors.”
“Then they shan’t,” Marilith decreed, her red eyes flaring, and now her six weapons slid free.
Matron Mother Zeerith wisely used that moment to begin her return to Q’Xorlarrin, her entourage hustling beside her, and with other dark elves ordered to collect the slaves-who would surely have been devoured by the demonic procession-and retreat within the main compound area. By the time Matron Mother Zeerith had returned to her altar room, Q’Xorlarrin had more sentries guarding the lower entrances than those in the areas where the dwarves might come down.
The first good news of the day greeted Matron Mother Zeerith in that altar room, for she found her nephews, the powerful Masters of Sorcere Jaemas and Faelas, waiting for her.
“Well met again, Matron Mother of Q’Xorlarrin,” they said in unison, both bowing deeply and respectfully.
“It has been too long since your beauty has graced our eyes, Matron Mother Zeerith,” Faelas Xorlarrin added.
“Menzoberranzan is a lesser place without you,” Jaemas added. “Enough of your insipid flattery,” Matron Mother Zeerith replied, though it was clear from her tone that she was indeed a bit flattered.
Behind her, High Priestess Kiriy caught that little fact, too, it seemed, for she chortled, drawing an evil glance from her mother.
“Have you spoken with any since your arrival?” Zeerith asked. “Out in the forge room,” Jaemas said, pointing past her. “Then you know that I have been off to greet a column of demonic reinforcements. One led by Marilith, who serves. .”
“The archmage, yes,” said Faelas. “He brought her to Menzoberranzan after her defeat at the blades of Malagdorl Armgo, and so shamed House Barrison Del’Armgo, or cast doubts upon the tale woven by their weapons master, at least.”
“Matron Mother Baenre chose Marilith to lead the column above even the goristro that now serves her. .” Faelas started to explain, but Zeerith cut him short.
“To further irk Matron Mother Mez’Barris,” she said with a shake of her head-one that wasn’t full of the glee expected from one of her high station when learning of such diabolical intrigue, but rather, one of disgust. The two wizards didn’t miss it, and they glanced at each other, puzzled. “Help to organize the attack groups,” Zeerith bade her nephews. “Take Hoshtar with you. When the demons engage the dwarves and wound them as I expect, we must be ready to finish the task, and so not allow Gromph and the matron mother all of the glory.”
The wizards nodded.
“That would be wise,” Jaemas agreed, “but first. .”
He let that hang ominously for a moment, until Faelas added, “We have been to the great stair in the main lower hall, Matron Mother, and have witnessed the tunnels directly above it. You have more immediate problems.”
“You are sure it will work?” Kenneally asked Tuckernuck.
The other Harpell nodded. “It won’t be large, perhaps a score of strides to a side, but all who fall through it will float gently to the ground. You know how long I have been preparing this.”
Kenneally couldn’t miss the flash of anger in his tone, or defensiveness at least.
“It is well over a hundred feet to the floor of the lower cavern,” she reminded him, and indeed, Tuckernuck had flown beside her, invisibly, to scout the room, and so this was not new information to him. “Even a dwarf. .” She shook her head and let that unsettling thought hang in the air for a moment. “They’ll be down from the landing to your feather fall field in under a three-count, and will be falling fast.”
Tuckernuck nodded. “I know.”
“How high will you put your magic field?”
“Twice my height, no more,” he answered confidently.
“They will be falling fast.”
“And floating the moment they touch the enchantment,” Tuckernuck assured her. “If we put it up too high, the dwarves will be helplessly floating about in the air for too long.”
Kenneally brushed her long brown hair back from her face. She seemed as if she were about to say something, but cut it short before she made a sound.
Tuckernuck smiled at her reassuringly, even reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “It will work,” he said quietly. “We’ll get five hundred battle dwarves in that cavern in short order, including the whole of the Gutbuster Brigade.”
“I should anchor-”
“No!” Tuckernuck said to his powerful cousin, for indeed, Kenneally Harpell was considered among the greatest of their wizards, with mastery of some of the most powerful spells known at the Ivy Mansion. “No. They will need you in other ways, of course. We’ll find battle soon after the first dwarven boots are on the cavern floor, do not doubt.”
The two heard the rumble of marching dwarves then, and so Kenneally nodded and motioned for Tuckernuck to go and prepare the battlefield. The younger cousin pumped a clenched fist and ran off to find his trio of cohorts. After a short confirmation of the positions and plan, they began checking their components and rehearsing the words of the magical ritual.
The youngest of the group cast a spell of flying on herself, became invisible, and flew off for a quick scouting of the cavern to mark the spot.
The others crouched on the platform, staring, looking for the signal. Tuckernuck flexed his fingers repeatedly to allay his nerves.
Back from the group, through the door and in the hallway, Kenneally stood with Connerad and Bungalow Thump at the head of the dwarven force. “You are sure?” she asked the young king, and not for the first time.
“Will the damned spell work?”
Kenneally glanced back at the four Harpells on the landing and nodded. “I do believe in Tuckernuck, yes. But there might be many enemies waiting for you.”
“Then we’re sure,” Bungalow Thump answered for Connerad. “Ye just get us down there, girl, and get out o’ our way so ye’re not slippin’ in drow blood!”