Halisstra could feel her sense of impending dread growing. While House Melarn had not collapsed all together, as she had so direly predicted back in her rooms, it had certainly shaken violently more than once, and to her senses, familiar with every hallway, chamber, and nuance of the dwelling, it seemed to lean very slightly to one side. As impossible to fathom as the idea was, Halisstra wondered if the place was still stable. She wanted desperately to get outside and see for herself just what was happening in the city. The drow couldn't imagine violence so potent as to be able to physically disturb House Melarn.
The dark elf priestess was leading the others toward her mother's chambers, where she was certain Quenthel's personal belongings had been taken after the Mistress of the Academy had been imprisoned. Though she would have some competition from Aunrae Nasadra, Ssipriina Zauvirr would certainly claim much of House Melarn's bounty for herself, including the high priestess's personal items, to keep as trophies of her affront to the city of Menzoberranzan, if nothing else. It remained to be seen if everything Quenthel Baenre had in her possession upon arrival in the city was still there.
The more she thought about the actions of Ssipriina and the other matron mothers, the more incensed Halisstra grew. Beyond the consequences of turning on House Melarn, they were potentially offending the most powerful House in Menzoberranzan. Plus, the course of action they had taken seemed to Halisstra to be a symbolic thumbing of the nose at the very idea of even trying to discover what was going on with Lolth.
At least Quenthel and the others are trying to figure something out, she'd told herself more than once since her entanglement with them. Lolth might value devotion, but Halisstra didn't believe the goddess expected her servants to sit back and wait for her to come save them, even if they showed overzealous dedication or sacrificed a thousand gray dwarves.
Truthfully, Halisstra had found herself wondering just what Lolth wanted.
Halisstra passed through a large intersection and turned down a new pathway, one even more lavishly decorated, if that were possible, with plush carpeting, murals, and images of House Melarn triumphs. They were entering Drisinil's personal quarters, and Halisstra was fearful that a large contingent of House Zauvirr guards would be posted to protect the chambers, insurrection outside or not. The dark elf's concerns were well founded, for as she rounded a corner, she spotted a squadron of troops milling about, blocking access to the door beyond, which led into Drisinil's private residence.
«What are you doing down here?» Halisstra demanded, hoping to throw the soldiers off-balance with her commanding tone. «You are needed on the parapets at once!»
«I don't think so,» the sergeant said, eyeing the motley group following the First Daughter as he raised his sword and pointed it at her. «We received word that the traitor had escaped, and now you appear right here, conveniently for us. I'm afraid we have orders to kill you and anyone aiding you.»
The soldiers fanned out, brandishing their weapons as they advanced.
Halisstra's first instinct was to bring her mace up to defend herself, but her hand was empty, for Quenthel had not yet permitted her to rearm herself. Danifae, who was at Halisstra's side, was no longer bound, but she had no weapon, either. Danifae did, however, carry a small knapsack with some of their other belongings. Quenthel had agreed to let them stop at Halisstra's chambers and pack a few things before departing, for if the House continued to thrash about like it had, there was no telling when they might have to evacuate, and there would be no better chance later.
Out of the corner of her eye, Halisstra saw her attendant falter a step, too, but before the soldiers could close the gap, a blur of yellowish-white fur flashed between the two drow, slamming into the front rank of troops with a deep, unsettling snarl and a whirl of arms and claws. There was a sickening sound of rending flesh before Halisstra realized that the draegloth, Quenthel's personal bodyguard, was the source of the carnage.
Halisstra's gasp of surprise came only after three of the soldiers, including the sergeant, went down screaming before the onslaught of the creature, their bodies horribly mangled and their blood splattered everywhere. Several other soldiers began to surround the draegloth, trying to stay clear of the fiend's savage claws, but at the same time looking for ways to press the attack. Jeggred crouched, watching his multiple foes as they swarmed around him, lashing out with their swords but unwilling to get in close enough to do any good. A handful were already backing out of the fray, producing hand crossbows.
Another figure darted past Halisstra, and a third, and she settled back against the wall as Ryld and Valas entered the fight. The larger of the two, whom she had found striking when they first came face to face, was wielding his greatsword in a manner she found comforting. The blade seemed light and easy in his hands as he carved half the face off of one soldier and spun to swipe through the midsection of a second enemy in the same motion. The diminutive one, on the other hand, seemed content to slink up behind one of the drow soldiers still trying to find an opening inside Jeggred's deadly reach. The guard never heard or felt Valas coming, and when the scout planted his kukri into the small of the soldiers back, a flash of energy accompanied the stroke. The soldier arched his back in agony and crumpled to the ground as Valas pulled his blade free and stepped aside, disappearing into the shadows again.
«Get out of the way, foolish girl, and let them do their work,» Quenthel snapped at Halisstra from behind.
The daughter of House Melarn glanced back over her shoulder to where the high priestess was standing. She saw the wizard producing some odd ingredient or another, which she knew meant he was preparing to fling a spell. In front of him, a rapier seemed to dance of its own accord in the air, as though it was defending him from any foes who might try to get close to him. She pressed herself against the wall to allow him ample room then sidestepped her way back to where Quenthel waited. On the opposite side of the passage, Danifae was doing the same.
«No sense getting in the thick of things when they're more than capable of handling it themselves,» Quenthel explained, scowling. «At least they're good for that, if nothing else.»
Halisstra wanted desperately to ask the other drow how she tolerated such insubordination from the three of them, especially the wizard, Pharaun, but she thought it best to keep her mouth shut and stay in the high priestess's good graces. It might be a long while before Quenthel trusted her, and she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.
A hissing sound accompanied a long, thin sliver of ice that shot from Pharauns fingertips and streaked straight at one of the soldiers, embedding itself in the back of the drow's shoulder like a deadly icicle. The soldier cried out in pain and stumbled backward, but too late. Jeggred, seeing his foe's attention diverted, darted in and slashed with his massive claws, ripping through the muscle wall of the guard's abdomen and smiling delightedly as entrails began to tumble out. The force of the blow was so strong that it spun the dark elf around. With a sickening plop, the soldier fell onto his back, gazing sightlessly toward Halisstra while the contents of his body leaked out around him.
«Hold!» a voice shouted from behind Quenthel. Halisstra turned, along with the high priestess, to see a whole new force of soldiers, who had approached from the direction Halisstra and the others had come.
«Wizard, do something!» Quenthel ordered, stepping back as the new soldiers slipped their weapons from sheaths and trotted forward.
Pharaun spun around, and seeing the new threat, he stabbed a hand inside his piwafwi and produced several small items. His dancing rapier swung around and darted forward, bobbing and weaving through the air in an attempt to hold the new squad, which was even larger in size than the first one, at bay. At the same time, Halisstra heard the wizard utter some word or phrase under his breath. Though she didn't understand his speech, the effect was immediate and impressive. A blinding streak of lightning shot forward from the wizard's fingertips and struck the closest soldier squarely in the chest. Immediately afterward, several fingers of the same bolt crackled again, fanning outward from its first victim to strike the rest of the dark elves.
Halisstra cried out in pain and flung her arm up to shield her eyes from the flaring light of the bolt, cowering against the wall and cursing the wizard for blinding her and making her vulnerable to the soldiers' attacks. Her vision swam for several moments with the afterimage as she groped along the wall, trying to listen for the sound of imminent attack, but nothing came. Ahead, she heard one last gasp as someone was wounded, and the sounds of battle faded.
When her vision finally cleared, she saw Danifae and Quenthel looking as dazed as she felt. Pharaun appeared proud of himself, and the entire host of House Zauvirr soldiers lay on the ground to either side of her.
«Damn you, Pharaun,» Quenthel snarled, her hands on her hips as she glared at the wizard, who was a few inches shorter than the high priestess. «You warn me next time you intend to cast a spell like that!»