Chapter Text
Astarion had to admit Gale’s magic had grown an impressive amount since first meeting him stuck in a portal. Now, the wizard spent one minute studying the Menzoberranzan sigils and sent them hundreds of miles away in mere seconds.
The Underdark felt just as stifling as it had the last time he visited. Astarion avoided looking up because seeing the surface above brought up bad memories of spending a year trapped alone underground. He wasn’t alone, this time at least. Shadowheart cast their disguise spells, and Astarion watched as his skin turned a light purple. Both Gale and Shadowheart now sported white hair and red eyes. It was strange now. The first test of their disguises would be to make it through the city gate without being executed.
To their delight, the guards barely acknowledge them before letting them through. Astarion couldn’t help gasping when they entered the City Proper. Perhaps it was because he was so familiar with Baldur’s Gate, but Menzoberranzan seemed immense. The houses looked identical, and the streets wound around like a labyrinth. He knew finding Araj was going to be difficult, but this was going to be nearly impossible.
“We should start at a tavern,” Astarion suggested.
“We need to decide now,” Shadowheart said as she squinted at the architecture. “Who are we? Why are we here? I know a little Drowic from my training at the House of Grief, but I can’t do most of the talking.”
“We are from Ust Natha, south of Amn. You’re Shurraema, a priestess from House Despana, and I am your wizard, Geltyrr,” Gale explained. “I speak Drowic, so we can say you have laryngitis or something. Astarion, what do you want to be called?”
Astarion thought for a moment. The only Drow names he knew were Elerra, Minthara, and Drizzt. Two were female, and one was probably not a good choice for keeping a low profile. Gale must have noticed him struggling and said, “Is Antimar all right with you? You can be Shurraema’s loyal bodyguard.”
He shrugged in agreement. It wasn’t like he was going to do much of the talking. He didn’t speak a bit of Drow. Elerra knew it but rarely had the opportunity to use it. They usually spoke Common to each other.
It seemed unlikely that Araj would hole up in the wealthier portion of town if she were trying to avoid the Baenre’s, so they chose to visit the slums first. The streets were narrow and crowded, and it was difficult to stay together and keep an eye out for pickpockets. Gale, in particular, was having difficulty seeing without the benefit of dark vision. Astarion swatted the hands of several small children who tried to reach into the wizard’s pockets. They reached what appeared to be a tavern and decided to attempt mingling with the locals.
The place was much busier than they expected. A group danced close together in the corner to loud music performed by nearby musicians. On the other side, groups huddled together and whispered. One caught Astarion staring and glared at him. A game went awry, and a woman slammed her opponent's head onto the table, breaking her nose. The bartender yelled something, and both women separated. The room smelled like sweat, vomit, and fungi. They quietly sat at the bar, and Shadowheart ordered three green wines, thus speaking her entire Drowic vocabulary. The bartender slammed their drinks down.
Astarion sniffed the green beverage and tried not to make a face. He didn’t know it was possible to make wine from mushrooms, but he supposed that Drow had to make do with what they had. He turned in time to see Gale take a big gulp and make a strained smile while desperately trying to keep it from coming back up. Shadowheart sipped hers quietly and maintained a neutral expression. It wasn’t like he could taste it anyway, so he raised his glass to the bartender and pretended to drink. The bartender nodded in satisfaction and turned to her other customers.
A woman sauntered over and indicated she wanted to dance with Shadowheart. She looked at Astarion and Gale, who shrugged. They were trying to fit in, after all. The woman smiled and led her to the dance floor. Gale scooted over to sit next to Astarion and whispered, “I am going to attempt to engage the Bartender in conversation. Maybe we can find out where Araj is hiding out.”
“Just please be delicate about it. We know nothing about this place,” Astarion whispered back.
Astarion observed as Gale chatted away with the bartender, who seemed to answer him in only one-word phrases. Gale seemed delighted with the conversation while the bartender focused on scrubbing a glass. He recognized the bartender’s expression – the same face they all made when Gale got a bit too excited about a topic, and all one could do was politely nod. This is what happens when you let the least manipulative person in the group do all the talking , mused the group’s charlatan. He thought about Elerra telling a bartender such a good story that he got overexcited and died. She would have this place eating out of her hand. She was the reason this ridiculous little mission would have to work. He swirled his glass and tried to appear casual. Then Gale clearly said, “Oblodra,” Astarion and the bartender froze.
The bartender set down her glass and leaned forward with a seductive smirk. Astarion recognized that expression too – one that meant I’m going to flirt with you, so you don’t realize what’s coming next . He poked Gale’s shoulder, but the wizard flicked his hand away. He looked at Shadowheart just in time to see her dance partner look at the bartender with a knowing smile. His last thought before someone clonked him on the head was, well, sh*t .
Astarion awoke gods knows how many minutes later with a pounding headache. His hands were tied behind his back, and panic set in as he realized something was covering his eyes. A rough hand jerked him up to his knees and hissed something at him. He heard Shadowheart and Gale groaning nearby, so at least he wasn’t separated from them. Gale attempted to tell them something, but a smack silenced him. Slow, deliberate, armored footsteps approached. Their disguise worked a measly few hours, and now the locals would undoubtedly feed them to a spider.
A deep, gravelly voice asked the others something, who replied. Astarion assumed it translated to “found these idiot surfacers in our club. What is the most humiliating and painful way to kill them?” Then the leader turned their attention to the three interlopers and commanded, “ Qu'ellar lu'rank ?”
An awkward silence followed, and the voice repeated with irritation, “ Qu'ellar lu'rank ?” There was something very familiar in her contemptuous tone.
Gale stuttered, “Usstan tlun natha faern d'qu'ellar despana lu'nindolen ph – “Then Gale switched to Common, “Oh wait, is that you, Minthara? What a fortuitous coincidence!”
A longsuffering sigh confirmed their captor was the Nightwarden. Astarion wasn’t as ready as Gale to assume this was a positive development. Sure, Minthara had sided with them against The Absolute, but she had been rather adamant in pointing out this was an alliance of convenience and not a long-term friendship. Their last meeting at Wither’s party had been a little unnerving. He remembered Minthara draped over the chair, glass of wine in one hand, describing how she had returned to Menzoberranzan to strike fear in the Baenre’s and anyone else who cast her aside. While he and Elerra had laughed at Araj’s plan, they figured most Drow would be worshipping Minthara someday instead of Lloth. He hoped their time together built up a fraction of goodwill from the paladin and that she wasn’t about to slit their throats to impress her new friends.
Minthara barked something to her minions, and Astarion heard footsteps followed by a door slam shut. At least she wasn’t going to murder them in front of an audience. The blindfold was ripped off his head, and his eyes adjusted to see Minthara crouched in his face. “It is a decent disguise. Were it not for the wizard’s blathering, I would have thought you were Drow, albeit stupid ones.” She stood and pulled out a dagger from her belt. Astarion winced, but then she cut the ropes from behind them. She gestured to a seating area, and they followed her silently.
“When I heard that there were three strangers in my club, and one was prattling about House Oblodra – I wondered who was foolish enough to stumble into my territory asking about the most hated house in Menzoberranzan. I planned to execute the fools and hang their corpses out front. But instead, I have the forlorn wizard, the conflicted cleric, and the spawn. Imagine my disappointment.”
“You seem well, Minthara!” Gale said with such warmth.
To Astarion’s relief, Minthara finally smiled. “I am better than well. I am extraordinary. Seeing Elerra defeat a powerful foe with nothing but a collection of vagabonds and strays gave me an idea. I no longer need the Baenre name and Lloth’s blessing to gain power here. I have gathered the houseless and the disgraced. With my leadership, we have formed a tight network of unauthorized merchants, spies, and foot soldiers. Several non-noble families have pledged their allegiance, and several lower Houses now trade with us. There is even talk of giving me a seat on the Council. I do not know if I will accept. Seeing them panic and grovel is already satisfying.”
“And that is wonderful, Minthara, but this isn’t a social visit,” Astarion said.
“Indeed,” she grimaced. “Elerra would not send her three weakest soldiers on a social call.”
Gale huffed, but Minthara had made no secret about her opinions. She ordered Gale to keep the crown, Shadowheart to kill her parents and embrace Shar, and him to sacrifice seven thousand souls to Mephistopheles for power. Minthara was nothing if not consistent.
“So why are you three here, bumbling around and mentioning that blood merchant?”
Gale explained their situation while Minthara listened quietly. “So, you are here on a fool’s errand because Astarion cannot grieve properly?”
Gale looked at Astarion and then nodded to Minthara. It was ridiculous. They teleported hundreds of miles because Astarion smelled something and found a lyre in the sewer. Their evidence was limited at best. Astarion waited for Minthara’s ridicule until she shocked him by saying, “Why would you not try to contact me first? Did you not think me capable of obtaining information?”
Shadowheart squirmed, “We didn’t know how to reach you. And we thought the fewer people who knew, the more covert we could be.”
Minthara laughed, “Covert? You call this covert? You did not even need to disguise yourselves. Outsiders are allowed here for trade. We all speak Common. I could have protected you.”
“You would have done that for us?” Gale asked.
She shook her head, “Absolutely not. I would have told you to stay home. But now that you are here, I suppose I should do something to make sure you are not slaughtered the moment you walk out of this room.”
The Drow stood and paced with her hands behind her, “Your thought of Oblodra is not without merit. We have been watching her as she moved into House Celofraie’s former compound on the city's outskirts. Normally, the other powerful houses would annihilate anyone who moves into the residence of a fallen house.” She smirked, “But they are too busy trying to keep pace with me to pay attention to her.”
Minthara brought a map over and pointed the house out to them. “I sent spies to determine her activities after Mother laughed her out of the Council. Araj wanted them to restore her house because she made that ridiculous formula. We have noticed undead wandering the grounds at night, but none of the spies I sent to the compound has returned.”
That bit of information didn’t fill Astarion with hope.
Minthara continued, “Right now, I cannot risk attracting too much attention. I’ve been operating in the shadows, but showing outright aggression in the city would put my operation at risk. Mother wouldn’t hesitate to terminate my allies and me if I gave her a reason.”
“We would never ask you to risk yourself,” Gale said.
But Minthara shook her head and grinned, “Which is why the four of us will do it. If the Council is pleased to see the last daughter of Oblodra eliminated, I can take credit for it. If they are not, I will simply use my connections to blame a rival House. Your chances of surviving will be much higher with me leading you.”
Shadowheart and Gale thanked Minthara profusely, and she rebuffed Gale’s handshake. Astarion wasn’t sure how to feel. They had a powerful ally now, but this still could be a wild goose chase.
Was it really necessary to chain her to the bed?
It was bad enough being heavily pregnant and trapped in a basem*nt by two psychos – now Elerra had her arms spread out uncomfortably and was forced to stay sitting up against the headboard. Petras let her out for bathroom breaks, and when he brought more mushroom-based food to eat while he leered at her.
During one of these breaks, Petras thought taunting her would be a good idea. “You know, Astarion was the weakest of us. We called him the runt of the litter.”
Elerra stirred her mushroom soup absentmindedly and tried to tune him out. Araj didn’t want her to have anything sharper than a spoon, and she wondered how far she should jam it in his eye socket to reach his brain. She had vague memories of dissecting people during her days as Bhaal’s Chosen. With enough effort, she could make it work with a spoon. Petras leaned closer to her, “Did you ever wonder what it would be like with a strong vampire? A woman as beautiful as you must have been left wanting by someone as pathetic as Astarion.”
She resisted the urge to make barfing noises and tried to keep him talking, “You must be strong to down Araj’s blood. I’ve heard it’s quite rank.”
Petras involuntarily shuddered but recovered his flirtatious grin. “It is true, Araj’s blood is not for a weakling. I’m not surprised Astarion refused her. He was always so precious. But I finally get to taste the blood of a thinking creature, and she experiences being bitten and tasted by a world-endingly beautiful vampire. And when she has what she wants, she will give me the Ring of Radiance. And I can have everything Astarion ever desired. Almost everything, that is.”
He scooted closer to her and twirled her braid between his fingers. Elerra gripped the spoon tighter. “Almost everything?” she cooed. “What could a strong vampire like you possibly lack?”
Petras cupped her cheek with his hand, “You. I’ve always wondered how Astarion got so lucky to have someone like you share his bed. He was the most worthless out of all of us. Always causing problems with our Master, always getting in trouble, and then screaming pitifully when he got what he deserved. But you – I can sense the power in you.”
Elerra would rather eat nothing but mushroom soup for her entire life than listen to this, but she was running out of cards to play. Elerra leaned into his touch and said, “Oh, what else can you sense?”
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You’re like me. You don’t care about restoring House Oblodra, either. Together, we can take the ring from her neck and walk in the sun. I’ll even let you keep his child.”
How magnanimous , she thought. But she willed her food to stay down and ran a hand through Petras’s frizzy hair. The vampire took this as a sign to move things along and planted kisses down the side of her neck, which was just the sign Elerra needed. She planted a foot firmly in his groin and punched him in the face before he could cry out. The bard was not strong, but she had the element of surprise. She jumped out of bed and raced towards the ladder leading to the open hatch. Petras recovered enough to lunge at her, but he was off balance, and she dodged. She climbed up the stairs, and Petras grabbed her ankle, but she kicked him in the face.
Elerra slammed the hatch shut and locked it just in time to see a very surprised Araj enter the room. She rushed the blood merchant and shoved her to the ground. Elerra kept running and didn’t look back. She could hear Araj chanting and needed to get out of her spell range. She raced through the corridors again as other zombies noticed her and began to give chase slowly. Several stepped out from their rooms and blocked her path. If she just had her magic! She tried to dodge, but one clawed her arm. The ones behind her began to catch up. Suddenly, she felt paralysis spreading through her body. She tried to force herself to keep moving, but her legs refused to budge. The zombies wandered off, leaving only Araj standing there. “I wouldn’t have to resort to Hold Person scrolls and other base tactics if you would simply listen to reason.”
She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move. Her heart thundered in her chest. Petras, now swollen-faced and pissed, caught up. He threw Elerra over his shoulder and carried her back to her room. Once he cuffed her back to the bed, he slapped Elerra across the face. She tasted copper in her mouth.
“Do not think I am pleased with you, spawn,” Araj hissed. Petras shrunk and slipped off to the corner.
Araj looked at Elerra like a worn-out parent with a naughty child, and Elerra felt a little satisfaction knowing she was making this vile woman’s life more difficult. “You could have been part of this. You could have watched your daughter’s rise to power.”
Elerra wiggled her fingers – the spell was wearing off. “My daughter will have no part in your delusions of grandeur,” she snapped. “Her father and I were going to raise her as normally as a dhampir could be.” She trembled as she said, “Her father may be gone, but I’ll be damned if she loses her mother too.”
The other drow smirked, “It isn’t up to you anymore.”
She lifted a black bag off the floor and pulled out a pair of gloves. Elerra didn’t like where this was heading. “Petras wanted to betray you. He’s using you for the ring.”
“That’s bullsh*t!” Petras cried, and Elerra hoped it was enough to make them fight.
Araj put a hand up to silence him, and Elerra’s hopes sank. “Enough. I have no need of you, only your child. And if Nature does not work quickly enough, I must make it work. It is time.”
Elerra struggled, “You cannot make me go into labor. That is totally up to Abina.”
Araj grinned and gestured to Petras to come closer. Then she placed a hand on Elerra’s shoulder, and Elerra’s blood ran cold, “It won’t be much longer now. You’ve given Abina a wonderful head start, and it’s time for her to greet the world.”
