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The trap was a simple box.
It was a full month into Jarl's time at Sorcere when he came upon the box. Elrial had shown him, or Jarl had snooped through, just about everything within the mage's quarters. Thirtieth year students received very generous rooms in which to experiment and store their magical devices. A student at Melee-Magthere needed only his weapons and the rest he supplied from within. For a mage, the energy came from within, but they needed many different devices through which to channel that energy.
For every four items that Elrial had shown him, Jarl had swiped one of them. Once he returned home to the Del'Axle compound, he had plans to start his own collection of magical trinkets. Elrial would unknowing provide him with a good starting quantity.
This particular box was about six inches cubed. It sat high up on a little referenced shelf. Elrial had passed over this shelf casually when he had gone through all of his items with Jarl saying that none of the items on that shelf were very interesting. He was right for the most part. Most of the items were creations that the student mage had made early on in his schooling and held little power or intrigue. Something was different about this box.
Jarl was alone in the room as Elrial was attending one of his advanced classes. He levitated up to the shelf and carefully removed the box from among the other junk. He walked over and placed it on the main table in the center of the room. Jarl took a seat at the table and studied the box.
It was a cube and each side had a unique concentric design worked into the metal sides. Jarl could not really tell what kind of metal it was. His only experience with metal was the weapons he carried. This box was made out of something completely different. Jarl rolled it around on the table for several moments until he was confident that it was right-side-up.
"Now, how do I open it?"
There was no visible hinge, and there were no cracks that would indicate that the box had a lid at all. Jarl closed his eyes and studied the box again, falling into its magical composition. There were hundreds of symbols surrounding this box and Jarl had absolutely no idea what they all meant. He waded through them like walking through a densely packed herd of rothe. Finally he saw one that he recognized. It was a variation of a symbol that Elrial had shown him when dealing with a magically sealed door.
This was definitely the lock that needed to be opened, but Jarl wanted to make sure it was not trapped first. Elrial had shown him what several different types of traps looked like from fireballs to lightning, but Jarl saw none of those symbols now. If it was trapped, it was done so with spells Jarl had never seen before.
"Well," he muttered, "you only live once." He flipped the symbol and opened his eyes. The box glowed slightly and a seam of light appeared around three sides of the lid as the box prepared to open. Then nothing.
Jarl had been backing away slowly preparing for whatever might be in this box, but nothing happened. It looked like the lid was going to swing up, but the light had disappeared and the box sat unchanged on the table. Jarl reached forward to examine the box closer.
Then it happened.
As soon as Jarl's slender fingers touched the side of the box the lid sprang open and the head of a viper came out. Jarl had no time to react, and the snake sunk its fangs into the wrist of the startled drow. Jarl wanted to yank his hand back, but he found that he could not.
The teeth of the deadly snake were sunk deep into his wrist, and the eyes of the magical creature stared hard at Jarl. It sprouted from the box like a genie from a bottle, just an intangible mist that gradually materialized into a solid form. The end of that solid form was currently attached quite securely to Jarl's arm.
The fight was the fiercest of Jarl's life. Even his battles with Zak or Dantrag did not come close to comparing. Jarl did not use his muscles or weapons in this fight, but his mind. The viper had a paralyzing lock on its victim, not as a result of its venom, at least not yet, but as a result of pure fear.
Jarl slowly pulled himself out of that pit, his mind clawing up the sides of the black hole until it finally was back in touch with his other senses. The first sense that hit him was immense pain, and the reflexive reaction that should have taken place as soon as the viper had made its appearance finally occurred. Jarl yanked his arm away. The viper let go at once and slowly receded back into its box and closed the lid.
Jarl stood up, kicking the chair out of his way as he backed up holding his injured wrist tightly with his other hand. He stared at the twin pricks of blood that marked where the snake had sunk its teeth in, and he could feel the numbing poison as it slowly worked its way up his arm. He was too paralyzed in fear and dread to even think of anything he could do to stop it.
Elrial entered the room. He took one look at the box on the table and then at Jarl and knew exactly what had happened. "Don't move!" he shouted as he ran into a side room, smiling as he went. He had not expected Jarl to be able to open the box for several weeks yet and had not set up the alarm system that would have alerted him to when the box had been opened. It was only pure luck that he had happened in when he had or Jarl would have died.
Elrial came back to Jarl carrying a small dish of ointment and a vial of liquid. "Drink this." Jarl was in no position to question the order and compiled. His body went limp almost immediately, and Elrial slowly lowered him to the floor. He applied the ointment to the wound and wrapped it tightly. He then moved the fighter to the couch.
"That will teach you to snoop around when I'm gone." He turned his back on the unconscious student and moved to the table. He made absolutely sure the box would not suddenly open when he picked it up and carried it into his personal chamber. It was not such a difficult task to remove the blood from the box without waking the viper, if you knew what you were doing.
***
Dantrag responded to the messenger almost immediately and arrived at Gromph's study within the hour. When the Head Master of Melee-Magthere entered his brother's chambers, he saw that Gromph was putting the final touches on his magical summoning circle and respectfully stayed quiet and out of the way.
Gromph stood finally. He held up a small vial of reddish liquid. "This is a sample of Jarlnian's blood taken just this morning. I am going to summon an imp. He will not be able do anything with it, but he can take it to something that can."
"Why not deal with the demon directly?" Dantrag asked.
"An imp is already more trouble than it's worth. Trust me, demons are no walk in the park. It is better to deal with a creature of a lesser intellect." Without further explanation Gromph began the process. He first activated the circle of protection. He then opened a small portal. Finally, he called upon the creature he had chosen from his research.
Dantrag watched on in interest. He had never seen a mage summon a creature before. He had sneaked a few peeks into the Baenre chapel when his sisters and mother had summoned handmaidens of Lloth, but this was different. This time he was involved. The circle shimmered as it was exercised to contain the rift within. A puff of gray smoke slowly materialized into the form of a very ugly creature.
The imp was roughly the same height as Dantrag, but its legs and arms were thin and curled up to its body, disguising its true size. Its torso was fat and bloated, supporting a set of wings on its back and a horned head above its hunched shoulders. The wings beat slowly, keeping the imp hovering slightly over the stone floor. Its head looked around, trying to determine where it was.
With one look at Gromph, the imp stopped looking around. When drow were involved, the chance that there was an imperfection in the magic circle went down considerably. The imp knew its drow well, and if he was not mistaken, this one was the Archmage at Sorcere in Menzoberranzan. The creature did not know Gromph by name, but it recognized the robes he wore.
"What do you want?" it asked with a hissing lisp.
"Information," Gromph replied. "We wish to learn the true identity of a student here at the Academy."
The word "we" caught the imp by surprise until he saw Dantrag standing in a corner. Dantrag stepped toward the circle, smiling at the trapped creature. If the imp was correct, this one was the Head Master at Melee-Magthere. Upon closer inspection, the imp also saw that they were both Baenre nobles. Something must be up.
"What is this student's name?"
"We don't know his name," Dantrag said angrily, "that is why we have summoned you!"
Gromph gave his brother an angry look that told him to be quiet. "He is called Jarlnian Del'Axle," Gromph said to the imp.
The creature thought about responding to Dantrag's outburst but decided to let it pass. "The fourth house?" the imp asked, though it was pretty sure. Gromph nodded. "And you think the matron mother is claiming an illegitimate noble?" Again Gromph nodded. "A serious charge."
"We seek proof. I have a blood sample." Gromph held up the small vial.
"Toss it to me," the imp said a little too quickly.
Gromph was about to throw it but hesitated and then scowled. "If you drop it I shall lower the circle and ..." he motioned to his brother.
Dantrag quickly understood his role and drew his weapons. The blades gleamed in the candlelit room as the Head Master twirled them about his body skillfully. If the imp had saliva, it would have swallowed hard in apprehension at this. Instead, it turned back to Gromph. "Throw me your vial, and I shall catch it."
The Archmage did so, though he still did not trust the imp and helped the throw along with a simple levitation spell. The imp snagged it sure enough and held it up so he could look at it. "I can not do anything with this."
"No," Gromph agreed, "but you can take it to someone who can."
"Your high priestesses could perform such a task in a matter of hours. Why not ask them?"
"Because I have asked you to do it," Gromph replied. The imp knew how drow society worked and had already guessed that their mother had given this task to these two Baenre brothers. Now the creature knew it. They could not go back to their sisters or mother if they were the ones who had given them the task in the first place.
"It will take time," the imp said, resigned to the task. It was not that difficult, for all the imp had to do was run between its master and these drow, but it hated dealing with its master.
"You have ten days," Gromph replied.
"One hundred, no less," the imp argued. It could do the task in three hours, but it was lazy.
Gromph paused a long time. "Very well, I shall give you eleven days. If you do not have answers for me by that time, I will make sure my brother kills you slowly." Even if the imp did bring them the answers they needed, Gromph would still let Dantrag kill the pitiful wretch. It was always good to banish creatures you called on so they could not come back for you.
The imp thought about trying to bargain for more time, but it saw that it was pointless. "I shall barely know the race of this pitiful creature in eleven days," it complained holding up the blood, "but I shall see what I can find out."
"You will bring us his true name and house," Gromph demanded.
"I shall try."
"You will!" Gromph called on his control of the beast, willing it to obey.
"Yes! I will!"
With that, Gromph dismissed the imp back to the abyss. He turned to Dantrag. "And so we wait."
***
Eleven days in the life of a drow pass in a heartbeat, and the two Baenre brothers found themselves back in the summoning chambers at the appropriate time. "When I summon this creature," Gromph began to explain, "it will be compelled to tell the truth. It will have no choice but to reveal what it has found. It knows this and does not like it. Likely it will have prepared several answers in advance to confuse us. They will have to be truthful, but they may be misleading at the same time."
Dantrag nodded. He did not like this already. He was a fighter and hated all of the rules and regulations that went on with magic. You had to recite the spells at a certain volume, tone, and speed. Any small infraction did not only mean that the spell would fail, but it would usually bring serious harm to the caster as well. He preferred extracting information by force. He knew his brother was powerful and that they would probably get the information they wanted, but if this failed, he would do it his way.
Gromph began his chant and soon the imp was floating in front of them once more. The grin on the creature's face was impossible to hide. It knew who Jarl was and what his true family was. It also knew how Matron Reinela had acquired the sacrificed son. The fact that the two drow who were asking were of House Baenre made this all the sweeter.
"Do you have the information we are looking for?" Gromph asked.
"I do," the imp replied. It had gone to its master almost immediately after being dismissed eleven days ago. The lesser demon that controlled the imp had little reason to accommodate its servant, but since the request had been made by drow elves, the demon completed the task. Too many are the times that when a demon failed, the drow would go to a handmaiden of Lloth. With so simple a task, the handmaiden would demand to know why it had been summoned. When they learned of the uncooperative demon, things got messy.
"Is Jarlnian a noble of House Del'Axle?" Gromph asked.
The imp smiled. If they did not know how to ask questions, this was going to be fun. "Yes."
Gromph was stunned, but Dantrag realized the error in the question. Of course Jarlnian was a noble of House Del'Axle now. "Was he born a noble of House Del'Axle?" he asked.
The imp turned on the younger brother. "I am not required to answer you."
Dantrag pulled his blades. "And I do not need a circle of protection."
"Was he born a noble?" Gromph asked, trying to diffuse the situation.
Again it was a poorly worded question. The imp could decided to interpret the word "he" to refer to Dantrag, as they were just talking. Either way, the answer was the same. "Yes."
"Jarlnian was born a noble?" Gromph asked again, realizing the ambiguity of the first question.
"How many times must I answer the same question?" the imp replied. With the confusion, Gromph was loosing his grip on the creature.
"As many times as I require. Now answer the question. Was Jarlnian born a noble?"
"Yes!"
Dantrag had already considered the possibility that Jarl could be a noble from another house. He was also getting sick of these games. "Did Matron Reinela Del'Axle give birth to Jarlnian?" Dantrag asked, careful to use as many names as he could to keep the ambiguity out of the question.
The imp turned back on him to tell him to shut up, but it knew that Gromph would just repeat the question. Besides, it could lie to this one, not that it wanted to. "No, she did not."
"What is his true name?" Gromph cried, throwing a burst of energy at the imp to get him to comply. With the use of the pronoun again, the summoned creature might have been able to sidestep the question, but not with the extra thrust by the powerful wizard.
"Iblith!" the thing shouted. Both drow were surprised that the imp was able to ignore the command, neither realizing that it was impossible for it to do so. It enjoyed the startled looks on the brothers' faces. "Yes, you stupid males. The child was born under the name of Iblith. Did you not know that is how Lloth views all males? You are nothing more than excrement."
Gromph was busy checking his circle to see if something was wrong. He did not have a lot of experience dealing with these vile creatures, but he knew something had to be wrong for the imp to so blatantly disregard his command.
The imp ignored the mage and focused on Dantrag. "Matron Baenre believes this too. She thinks of all of her male children as offal, as iblith." It focused its eyes right on Dantrag. "She has even secretly named one of her sons such."
Dantrag already had his weapons out and was standing right on the edge of the circle. "Tell me the drow's house!"
"Del'Axle."
"The true house!"
The imp was shocked by this fighter's strength. It actually felt compelled to scream "Baenre," but it had already answered that question, in a manner. With this little victory, it had freed itself from Gromph's control. "I have already answered that question."
Dantrag rushed into the circle, shattering any chance that Gromph had of regaining his hold on the creature. The imp weakly held its arms up to fend off the attack, but Dantrag cut them off. The wings came next, and the creature was soon lying on the floor. The whole time it was laughing.
Dantrag had his weapons crossed over the creature's neck, pinning it to the ground. "Tell me the true house!"
The imp felt no compulsion to answer truthfully now. "Oblodra," he replied, the most obvious lie he could tell. Jarl had no psionic powers. Dantrag let his weapons slip into both sides of the creature's neck. "Or was it Del'Armgo. Or perhaps it was DeVir."
Dantrag sliced the creature's head off and proceeded to hack up the rest of the grotesque body. The imp dissolved into a mist as it went back into the abyss. "Or perhaps he is your brother," the mist said softly. "Iblith Baenre sounds about right." Then it was gone.
Dantrag turned on Gromph angrily. The mage was sitting very confused in a chair, his head in his hands. "It felt none of that," he said, not even looking up. "It felt none of your attacks, and you did no real damage to it. It was out of my control."
"Tell me something I do not know," Dantrag said in a harsh tone as he approached his brother, weapons still drawn. "What am I supposed to do now that your magic has failed?"
"My magic did not fa-" Gromph began angrily, standing up. There was a blade tip inches from his neck. He quickly sat back down and quieted.
Dantrag did not. "If your magic did not fail, then what happened just now?"
"It should have been compelled to tell the truth. Even when you questioned it, I could feel my spell working."
"Even after ..." Dantrag started.
"After you entered the circle? No. My spell had been broken by then. It had gained control of the summoning. If it had left the circle, though, it would have felt my wrath as well."
"Please," Dantrag replied, "I have seen your magic at work. Likely any of your attacks would have missed and hit me. Besides, my blades would have cut him down before you spoke your first syllable."
Gromph was in no position to refute the claim right now. "What are you to do then? Are you going to report these events to our matron mother?"
Dantrag realized that Gromph was telling him he had no real options. Any failure, regardless of whose fault it was, was his responsibility. His matron mother did not care how he got his answers, only that he got them. If he did not, he could blame no one but himself.
"I shall get the information I need with my own methods. I was going to do so anyway, but I had hopped to have a little more information to work with. So long brother." Dantrag sheathed his weapons and stormed out of the room.
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