Chapter Text
The proud merchant city of Zeberra span over the caverns deep under what surface dwelling folks called Cormanthor. Little did its inhabitants know about old Myth Drannor of dubious fame sitting in top of them, over miles and miles of stone and soil. The sole drow female looking over the city with a seemingly indifferent face had no clue for sure. She just became anointed as high-priestess of Lolth and her cleavage swelled by both pride and uneasy anticipation of a possible blade into it.
If she wanted to be honest with herself – though no sane drow would ever risk being honest, not even to themselves mind – she hated this place. Her family, the prominent House Drisraen came from another underground city by the name of Ennriel, a mere three decades ago. Lilith – for this is the name of our heroine – sneered bitterly at the thought of her childhood home. When the family left Ennriel, it was in the middle of a slave rebellion, which eventually succeeded and destroyed the drow city-state. Where were the mighty priestesses and house wizards you ask?
Well, you know how it is… Some house wizards saw an opportunity to abandon ship, and they did. The capricious Spider-Queen decided that leaving her own faithful in hot water sounds like a lot of fun, so she withdrew power from random priestesses and whole noble Houses, prompting them to attack each other while the rebels nipped their numbers a little. Every single time. The fall of Ennriel wasn’t immediate, it happened gradually like the forming of a stalactite by tiny water droplets through countless decades of time. And no matter how many times Lilith replayed it in her mind, she still couldn’t figure out what could be done to prevent it.
Her brooding was interrupted by the sound of boots treading the flagstone underneath her. She turned her gaze towards their source and saw her brother Shar’Nadal entering the building, leaving his lizard steed to the care of the house-staff. Lilith left her vantage point on the balcony, and went downstairs to greet him. While gracefully descending down the stairs – for unlike in many drow houses, in Castle Drisraen there were many stairs. A way to keep servants and even family members physically active in Matron Mother Drisinil’s opinion – Lilith’s thoughts wandered back a few decades once again, this time only days before her family left Ennriel, and her little brother was born.
She remembered holding him in her hands looking at him, feeling equally repulsed and irritated by the baby’s mere presence, and it didn’t change for a long time. She had to take care for little Shar’Nadal from time and time again, when her studies permitted – or in some cases demanded – it, and she knew that he was mercilessly reminded of his low status as a male on a daily basis. Yet she sometimes saw a spark of defiance in Shar’Nadal’s eyes. She did not hesitate to give him another lesson in case this defiance raised its head, but soon she learned that it was useless.
No matter how many lashes, kicks, hits and berating he got, Shar’Nadal’s eyes always held that little spark. And after a while, Lilith began to like seeing it. She still teased her – now all grown up – brother in every occasion, but her remarks became much less offensive, rather playful.
It never occurred to her what this change of heart towards Shar’Nadal might look like to anyone on the outside, and it never really meant much to her anyway. Some relatives spread rumours about her wanting to have Shar’Nadal as her mate – not unusual among drow nobles, mind you – or wanting to marry him off to one of the Matrons of an allied House, even the ridiculous notion that somehow Shar’Nadal mesmerized her and his wicked eyelash-batting saved him from future beatings for the grave sin of having Y-chromosomes.
It was all nonsense but Lilith let them have their petty little gossips. She arrived at the bottom of the stairs the exact same moment her brother entered the hall, trampling over the two goblins scrubbing the floor.
“It’s about time you deign to come home.” she began, forcing her features to stay indifferent and her tone slightly intimidating. “Matron Mother Drisinil wants to see us.”
Shar’Nadal let out a little groan in frustration. “And are we all required to attend? Can’t I just go to my quarters and read?”
Lilith wanted to ask the same question, but proper drow etiquette demanded otherwise. “Mind your tongue, dear brother!” she hissed. “If the Matron Mother wishes to see you, you obey even if you’re dying.”
Shar’Nadal made a confused expression “But if I’m dying, I can’t really fulfil her orders, can I?”
Lilith casually grabbed her whip “Want to test it?”
Shar’Nadal shook his head. “Nah. I heard dying is not good for your health.”
“So is being cheeky.” Lilith riposted.
“But you love it when I’m cheeky.” Shar’Nadal’s grin made her almost lose her composure. Almost.
“You’re a pain in the arse.” she grumbled.
“I had great teachers in that subject.” Shar’Nadal’s grin became wider. “Besides, that was very un-priestessly of you.”
Lilith’s hand lashed out grabbing her brother’s waist-length hair. “Did you dare criticize a high-priestess?” she drawled with Shar’Nadal’s constant “ow-ow” as background music.
“Of course not!” the male drow laughed nervously, wishing his sister to finally let go of his hair.
“Good.” Lilith nodded and pushed him away.
Shar’Nadal massaged his scalp while turning his head away from his sister towards the disgruntled goblins. “Lead the way, your Highness.” he sneered.
Lilith was about to turn around and go forward, but heard the last comment. “I swear to the Goddess Shar’Nadal, one more word and I will kick your sorry ass. Behave yourself, unless you want to bring shame on both of us.”
After their mother died in an alleged accident – one devised by one of their aunts as Lilith suspected – she was in charge of their side of the family. Lilith was glad that her branch of the family tree was composed of only her and Shar’Nadal, no spouses and fathers and other brothers or sisters to look out for.
The downside of it was that if her brother did something wrong, she was the one to blame for not training him properly or not be able to control him properly. And Shar’Nadal was adept at testing his limits. He treaded only inches away from her, as opposed to the sizeable distance he ought to have behind a priestess – unless it’s dangerous territory. There, males always go first because they’re expendable. Lilith sighed and stopped in front of the double door leading to the Matron’s throne room, looking at her brother.
“Don’t speak unless spoken to.” she lectured him. Shar’Nadal nodded. “Also, don’t fidget. Don’t yawn. Don’t stare at the ceiling, counting spider webs and spiderlings. Don’t…” Lilith kept on reminding her brother but Shar’Nadal interrupted her
“Yes, yes I know. Don’t cough, don’t blink, don’t breathe, be a part of the furniture. Got it.”
They entered the vast chamber adorned with spider motifs and intricate columns to support the weight of the ceiling, drapes hanging between them in the trademark black and dark blue colours of House Drisraen. The throne resembling a spider in its web stood on a dais, atop on it sat an elderly drow lady, still regal in posture and attire.
Lilith admired her grandmother and her queenly presence then her gaze wandered around the assembled family. Her two aunts Vimora and Allindra, their spouses, children were all there, and somewhere in the back there stood the patron of the house, a small and effeminate drow male, centuries the Matron’s junior. As Lilith could tell from where she was standing, he was even younger than Shar’Nadal.
Though nothing out of custom for drow, Lilith somehow found having a much younger spouse problematic, though definitely saw the advantages of showing such a treasure off to the other priestesses and Matron Mothers. She stole a glance to her brother, and his delicate features from his slightly pointy nose to his definitely pointy ears and high cheekbones, she began to worry. Shar’Nadal was easy on the eyes, and it was about time his looks were put to good use in the name of the House.
What if Mother Drisinil wants to marry him off to the highest bidder? Lilith swallowed her worry. After all, wasn’t this the sole purpose of males in their society? To be a commodity they buy and sell? She sighed and patted her brother on the shoulder, not wasting any more thoughts on the matter.
Shar’Nadal on the other hand was fairly aware of the same problems his sister mused about. Only he didn’t stop musing about them. He found his gaze wandered around the family as well, but while Lilith counted the competition, Shar’Nadal tried to count how many other males were in the room, and how often they were permitted to speak, opposed to the female family members. He found the balance to be outrageously off.
There was his cousin Adriel, his father Zathriel, the weaponsmaster of the House, the old wizard Ronwen, Mother Drisinil’s father and alleged former patron on the chamber’s far side. On the nearer side, there stood their other cousins Lyrion and his twin brother Nes’rar, behind them their plain and tired father Isvyn, and not counting Shar’Nadal himself, only the patron of the house remained. Shar’Nadal noted grimly that they didn’t even know his name.
He – much like his sister – found the union between their near-millennium old grandmother and a boy merely out of childhood repulsive, but for different reasons. Lilith could justify the custom for herself as much as she wanted, Shar’Nadal was positively disgusted by it. And he knew he couldn't really hide his expressions, so he looked away from the boy now locking gazes with him. Shar’Nadal saw his future in those tired red eyes. And he did not like that future one bit.
“All of you might know, what time of the year is it.” Matron Drisinil’s voice tore both Lilith and Shar’Nadal out of their respective foreboding thoughts. “It is the annual hunt, and I expect all of you to bring glory and wealth to this house.”
both Vimora and Allindra looked at their niece and sneered. “Matron Mother, if I may speak…” Allindra turned back to her mother. “There is another special occasion this year. And it involves our newest high-priestess.”
Drisinil was confused for a moment, then her gaze wandered over to Lilith, and her predatory features softened a bit.
“Oh, yes! My dear granddaughter! Come here child, let me look at you!”
Lilith went forth proudly, stopping a few steps in front of the dais and bowing her head. “Mother Drisinil…”
“I heard good things about you, child.” the elder drow lady mused. “And if my memory is correct, this year you will be the one representing your mother’s side of the family.”
“Yes, Matron Mother.” Lilith answered, though it wasn’t a question. Mother Drisinil never asked questions. She stated facts and they were always true, even if they weren’t. Any member of the family who dared to oppose her ended up dead or worse.
“I’m still reeling from the loss of your dear mother…” she shook her head slowly. “To end her life so horribly… I still wonder who’s responsible.”
“So am I, Mother Drisinil.” Lilith swallowed the bile that threatened to come out of her mouth at the mention of her mother.
Though they barely could stand each other, Lilith indeed wanted to know who was responsible for throwing her mother off from one of the bridges connecting Zeberra’s two halves, if only to thank them.
“All eyes are on you then, little Lilith.” Drisinil grinned at her granddaughter. “Bring our house glory, and you will be rewarded.”
The annual hunt was something House Drisraen brought from Ennriel, where it was a common custom for the noble Houses to compete in a hunting-looting-pillaging spree, and the House hoarding the biggest pile of loot won the contest. Of course, these annual hunts often ended in bloody wars among the Houses, because the real prize was to be in the ruling 8.
House Drisraen once held the position of second for a century despite assassination attempts and annual hunts. Lilith sighed in relief after they left the throne room, but her worries began to pile up on top of each other as she saw her brother approaching the patron, slipping away as unseen as probably his whole life was.
Shar’Nadal spoke to the other drow for quite a while, and it angered Lilith as much as made her worry, but she let them. After all, nothing wrong can come if she lets the two males chitchat. She knew she wasn’t interested in anything they want to talk about, she had a hunt to organize and competition to measure.
And there was a competition she could never stand a chance against with only his brother on her side. Lilith began to fear that she would fail no matter what, and failure was never an option. Her foul mood worsened when she learned that Shar’Nadal spent a lot of time with the patron of the house instead of helping her plan the course of action they need to take in order to defeat their aunts and cousins in the looting race.
“Tell me one good reason why shouldn’t I just throw you on an altar and sacrifice your worthless soul to the Goddess?” she yelled at her brother not a day after their meeting with Mother Drisinil.
“Maybe because – as you so aptly mentioned – my soul is worthless? And you will only anger the Spider Queen by giving it to her.” Shar’Nadal replied but backed away from Lilith slowly.
“I need your help, no matter how much I hate to say it.” Lilith grumbled and put her whip aside. “Though I might remind you dear brother, if you fail me, the consequences will be fatal for you!”
Shar’Nadal swallowed a knot that miraculously appeared in his throat. “But if you kill me, you’ll be left alone.” he tried to jest, but his tone sounded way too serious.
“Better alone than cursed with a good-for-nothing male like you!” Lilith riposted out of spite, and shoved her brother to the wall. “Focus! We have to find out how to gather treasure and hunt a beast to make Mother Drisinil proud, or else we’ll be shamed and even exiled from the House! It’s not a game, Shar’Nadal! We could die! Both of us!” Her anger and desperation were visible.
“I think I know something that might help us…” Shar’Nadal muttered awkwardly.
“Spit it out!” Lilith hissed, still holding the male drow’s throat in her grip.
“When I was out in the market the other day, I heard some folks talking about a mercenary group camping near Zeberra. We could talk with them, hire them to help us.” Shar’Nadal stuttered.
Lilith contemplated it for a moment, but shook her head. “No. Mercenaries would cost too much, besides they’d probably want their share from anything we find.”
Shar’Nadal sighed as he felt the priestess’ grip easing on his neck. “Then how about we ask uncle Zathriel to lend some of the House soldiers to us? We have the right…”
Lilith shook her head. “No. Absolutely out of the question. Zathriel is the spouse of the competition, he’ll go straight to aunt Vimora, and report about our weaknesses. We have to find another way.”
Shar’Nadal pushed himself from the wall and his hair back from his face. “Well dear sister, you have to decide then. Either we get in bed with the competition, or hire mercenaries. I don’t see any other options knocking on our door.”
Lilith knew it well enough; she was just too proud to admit that her brother outsmarted her this time. “Very well… Let’s see who in the family could help us…”
Shar’Nadal played with a lock of his hair, leaning to the wall while Lilith went around the room in circles. “How about Nym?” he asked after a while.
“Who?” Lilith asked back.
“You know, one nobody would suspect helping us, yet has enough power to order some soldiers around over the grumpy head of uncle Zath.” Shar’Nadal answered casually.
“You mean… Mother Drisinil’s concubine?” Lilith almost laughed. “Come on, you’re better than that.”
“No, listen!” her brother came closer to her in one stride “Nym might be young, and seemingly harmless, but I spoke with him yesterday. He has a great deal of influence on Mother Drisinil, because she still finds him entertaining. We might as well use it while it lasts.”
Lilith permitted herself a wicked little smile. “I always knew it was a good idea to spare you, little brother…”
Finding Nym alone was a harder task than Lilith imagined though. The boy was always at Mother Drisinil’s side, either sitting by her feet like some sort of pet while the elder Matron absent-mindedly stroke his long hair, or standing motionlessly behind her like her shadow. After a whole day of futile attempts at catching the concubine alone, Lilith dared to send a message directly to him arranging a private meeting.
She knew the sort of scandal it would make if anyone would see them, so she timed it after the evening mass in the chapel. Shar’Nadal was required to be there as well, for Lilith had a hunch that the younger male would be a little bit more forthcoming if he wasn't alone with a priestess.
And so it happened, after the evening mass was done, Lilith stayed behind in the chapel, under the statue of Lolth and eyed the group of dark elves slowly making their way to the exit. Shar’Nadal still stood at his spot, cowl pulled into his face so no one exactly saw him not paying attention. Lilith began to think the message had been intercepted or ignored, when she heard a low voice next to her.
“Excuse me, sister Lilith? You wanted my presence for something.”
She turned around to face the plain black robe and cowl withdrawn to reveal the pretty face of the Matron’s current spouse.
“That I have, ilharn.” Lilith answered using the useless title proper etiquette still demanded for the usually short-lived mates of Matron Mothers. “I require your help in persuading Mother Drisinil to give me a squadron of the house’s soldiers, and five of the lizard-riders.”
The concubine nearly laughed, but caught himself in time, only emitting a small peep. “And what makes you think I can do that?” he asked humbly.
Lilith felt her blood pressure rising. She didn’t have time for the male’s stupid games. “I will not say it again. I will win the annual hunt, and I require troops and servants. This is my right, just as much as my aunt’s.”
Nym swallowed and took a step backward, never looking Lilith in the eye. “I understand this, mistress. But I can’t help you.”
Lilith grabbed his robe before he could get out of her reach. “Not so fast…”
Shar’Nadal decided that now is the perfect time to insert himself between his sister and the terrified young drow.
“Nym, please hear us out!” he gently disentangled Lilith’s fingers from Nym’s clothes. “We really need your help. Also, we know that Mother Drisinil listens to you. What my sister wanted to say is that all we need is that you ask it from her. Nothing more.”
Nym’s eyes darted towards the exit and he was visibly shaking. “I can’t…” he whispered.
“Yes, you can.” Shar’Nadal held Nym’s shoulders and reached for the other male’s face to turn it back towards him. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. One question, when you see she’s in the right mood for it.”
Ignoring Lilith’s derisive snort, he continued. “If she says no, you come and tell us so, and we plan something else. All right? No hard feelings, no obligations, just one simple question, and a note back to us. That is all.”
Nym was still shaking when he nodded and Shar’Nadal released him.
“Good.” Lilith grumbled. “I thought we’d never get an answer out of him…”
Shar’Nadal cast a disapproving glance at her, but she ignored it. “Go then. I need answers fast.”
Nym bowed his head, and headed for the exit, but Lilith’s voice stopped him. “And ilharn!”
Nym turned back towards the priestess, who stared at him with her piercing gaze. “If you tell anyone about our arrangement, or dare to call me “sister” ever again, I’ll rip your tongue out.”
Three days later Lilith sat in the saddle of one of House Drisraen’s lizards, behind a house soldier, ordering them to march towards the caverns near their home city.
Shar’Nadal went on foot among the soldiers, and thought about his sister’s plans. Lilith wanted to explore a cavern-system thought to be deserted by everyone in Zeberra, and see it for herself. Any kind of monster they come across might serve as trophies or if they have treasure, they could score points for them.
Lilith and Shar’Nadal already saw their aunt Vimora’s party return to House Drisraen with a small army of slaves and several cartsful of stolen goods. Lilith wasn’t going to stay behind for long, if she could help it. Shar’Nadal was yet worried.
What if the caverns are indeed deserted? What if they can’t find enough loot in the mere tenday they have to complete the mission? He never saw any real battles himself, only the wrong side of the practice sword of his uncle, but he couldn’t help but hope they will find enough monsters and treasure.
The soldiers were signing to each other, and Shar’Nadal understood that they also worried about the endgame. After all, no one really knew what happened to the losers…