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The main battle did not need Zaknafein or Dantrag. It was now officially a rout. There were still two concentrated groups of Del'Axle priestesses after Zak had dismantled one, but the Baenre priestesses had formed themselves together in more organized groups and effectively removed them from the battle. The Del'Axle fighters were now giving themselves up left and right. They knew they had lost as soon as the legion of Baenre fighters had entered the battle.
The Do'Urden soldiers willingly accepted the defectors, but the Baenre soldiers could care less. Anyone with yellow hair was an enemy regardless of whether they were holding weapons. This policy got a bit confusing, for a few of the Baenre soldiers had been affected by Matron Vartha's spell as well. It had not specifically been targeted at Del'Axles, but at anyone who had not been Do'Urden.
Vartha saw the fight was over and pleaded with Triel to call off her soldiers. Triel complied after a while, seeing that even if House Do'Urden was able to claim all of the remaining fighters, their losses today would still be substantial. Too bad.
The fight was still not over though, for there was still the matter of the three high priestesses within the main structure, one of which was Matron Reinela. Triel had instructions to make sure Reinela died in this fight. The main stalagmite structure was well protected with magical shields, but it would not last long under the barrage that Triel called for.
***
Zak could barely keep his balance as he raced up the steps, the structure shaking all around him. Still he easily dispatched the few guards that had been left in place along the route to the main chamber at the top. Malice could tell where he was going and called powerfully for him to stop. Zak was not listening. He had figured out how to ignore her, but he did not expel any extra effort to remove her completely.
As he reached the top of the steps, the doors to the main audience chamber were obvious, and he pushed through them without hesitation. Inside, Reinela, Lillium, and Goria were trying to figure out what they were going to do. They knew they had lost and while they still did not know Baenre was involved, they had a pretty good feeling this attack went beyond the thirteenth house.
Methil was standing guard taking all of this in. The illithid had no idea how common these types of battles were and wondered what would happen to the Del'Axle high priestesses now that they had lost. This scouting mission was going very well. Now if only Methil could find a way to survive. Maybe the victorious house would be willing to take a mind flayer into their service.
When Zak burst into the room, he brought a welcomed distraction. The Do'Urden was only able to take three steps before he was hit with a crippling spell from Matron Reinela. Zak dropped both his weapons and came to a complete stop. In the back of his mind, Malice wished him a painless death and left him be.
Zak cursed his eagerness for the kill as he struggled against the powerful spell. He could move his arms and head a little bit, but for all intents and purposes, he was paralyzed.
Reinela recognized Zak from the descriptions she had received of the famed fighter who had finished ahead of her son in the Academy. If he had made it this far up the chapel without sustaining any significant injuries, he had no doubt been instrumental in the fall of her house. She might have lost the war, but she would enjoy winning this battle.
"The famous Zaknafein stands before us," Reinela told her two daughters. "Behold the most powerful male in all of Menzoberranzan!"
"Kind of pathetic," Goria said as she walked up to him. "Though I must admit he is rather handsome. Perhaps we can have a bit of fun with him before we kill him."
Zak tried to scowl at her, but it took him several seconds just to change facial expressions. He was tugging furiously at his limbs, his muscles so tensed that he was scared he might break a bone. Still, his right hand only moved an inch every dozen seconds as it slowly made its way toward his cloak.
"Oh we'll have fun with him," Lillium said as she pulled out her whip. She realized that this was going to be the very last male she would ever get to whip. She struck at Zak viciously, the venom of her whip only adding to Zak's immobility. Most victims of a beating curled up into a ball against such an onslaught, but Zak did not have that luxury and could not even wince as the snake heads bit into his most vulnerable areas.
Zak's hand was just about to the inside of his cloak now, and the slight movement had gone mostly unnoticed. "Tell me," Reinela spoke up, walking toward the male to join her daughters, "where is your strength now? You depend on your muscles to give you power and success, and when they fail you as they have now, where does that leave you?"
She turned around and walked back toward her throne. "Behold the power of the Spider Queen!" she cried as she held her arms up high above her head. She spun around and loosed a lightening bolt right into Zak's chest. She could have killed him if she wanted, but this torture session was going to last much longer. Instead the electric shock caused Zak's limbs to convulse despite the powerful hold spell. His right hand was able to go inside his cloak and back out again all in rhythm with his spasms.
Zak held his right hand closed and brought his arm away from him slowly. "Your skills mean nothing!" Reinela continued. "I am defeated. I know that, but I want you to know that your house, what ever tricks they used, did not win because you or any other member of your house is stronger than I am."
As soon as Zak moved his arm out in front of him as far as he wanted, he slowly worked his face into a smile. "What is so funny?" Reinela asked, staring hard at Zak. Both daughters held their whips high as they too looked intently at their captive.
Zak slowly and painfully opened his hand. It took far too long in Zak's mind, but the three females were too confident in their powers to think that Zak could be attempting anything offensive.
Finally his fingers uncurled enough to release the tiny porcelain sphere he had taken from his inner cloak pocket. Without thinking, each priestess followed the sphere's decent to the floor, eyes wide in curiosity. It was not affected by Reinela's hold spell, and Zak realized that his eyes were still open and barely got his lids down in time.
The sphere shattered against the stone floor, and it was as if the sun had taken up residence within the small chamber. All three females shrieked in pain and reeled backwards as the intense light burned their eyes. Zak was suddenly released from the hold spell, and he went in six different directions at once, as all his muscles had been straining against the spell. He gathered himself quickly, and with his eyes still closed, searched out his weapon on the floor.
The two screaming daughters were easy targets, and as both of their voices were silenced, Reinela began to panic. She pulled her whip out and twirled it about her body wildly. Zak still had his eyes closed, but could hear the snapping of the snake heads clearly enough.
Reinela uttered curse after curse at the clever male, stupidly marking her location for her attacker. Still with her whip in constant motion and its multiple heads unaffected by the light in the room, Zak was cautious to approach. With his eyes slit, he could see that the light in the room was returning to a tolerable level. He could also see that Reinela was regaining a bit of her composure.
Zak took careful notice of where she was standing and ran around behind her, tripping loudly and purposefully on a step. Reinela smiled as she spun around at the noise and released a fireball, unaware that she was standing right next to her throne. The fireball traveled five feet and exploded against the high-backed chair. The powerful wave of fire swept her off her feet and threw her across the room.
Zak could open his eyes fully now, and he walked up to the dying matron mother. Her eyes could still not see anything, but her arms were frantically waving in front of her trying to ward off what she knew was coming. "Behold the power of the Spider Queen," Zak said in a harsh whisper, "first hand." He thrust his weapon down, and Reinela's arms ceased their motion, forever.
Zak stood back from his work and released all his pent up rage and fury. He suddenly remembered that there had been a mind flayer in the room and spun about to look for him, but Methil had made himself scarce. Zak turned back to the dead priestesses before him. He wanted to take satisfaction or pleasure in their deaths, but he could not. Zak knew they needed to be killed, and was glad they were dead, but the knowledge that there were countless others like the females that lay at his feet forced him to realize that he could not remove the scourge of his people from the world.
His skill, no matter how great and unmatched, would still never allow him to make a meaningful difference. Even now, another house had moved in to take the place of Del'Axle as fourth in the city, giving some ambitious daughter somewhere in the city an opening to create her own house to fill the void. It was a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth. Zak could not change it; he could only play his part in it.
As Zak thrust his weapons back into their sheaths, he heard applause coming from a far corner of the room. He turned to see Jarl walking toward him. "Bravo, bravo," he praised, still clapping his hands. "It's about time someone ended her talkative mouth. I truly hated her. You have my thanks."
Zak did not appreciate Jarl's sarcastic assessment of what had just occurred. He liked it even less when Jarl drew his weapons. "However, I'm afraid that I gave my word to Reinela that I would protect this house against all enemies regardless of previous affiliations."
"Don't be a fool," Zak responded, his weapons staying at his side. "Your house is destroyed, likely mine with it. There is no reason for us to do battle. I have no grudge against you nor you against me."
"Did you hate my sisters so?" Jarl asked motioning to his dead relatives. Zak looked down at them and realized he did not even know their names. "I didn't think so. I do not hate your house either, but that does not mean I will not defend against it just as you can attack mine without any proper motivation. It is the way of our people. Congratulations, Dantrag, you have become what every male dreams of: a true drow warrior."
Zak's weapons leaped into his hands at Jarl's last comment. "He and I are nothing alike."
"Really. Is that why you just marched through my house killing everything in sight regardless of their personal demeanors. What if there were some like you - or at least like you used to be - with morals and convictions that go against the norm of our people? Did you bother to pause and question them as to their loyalty to the Spider Queen before you drove your sword through their hearts?"
"They stood guard, protecting the priestesses of Lloth. That spoke of their true convictions. I did not see you jumping in to protect your fallen sisters and mother."
"Nor did I see the children of my house standing guard, yet they also accepted death from the blades of Dantrag."
"Stop calling me that!" Zak rushed Jarl, and the two engaged in what would be their final battle.
***
Dantrag was getting desperate. Every way up into the main structure was blocked. Outside on the compound floor, the battle was over and the casualties were being sorted out. Above, the Baenre priestesses were still bombing away at the top of the main stalagmite determined to extract Matron Reinela, or at least bring the whole structure down with her inside.
If Zaknafein was inside, as Dantrag believed, the weapon master did not have much time to get him. As Dantrag looked upward at the remaining structure, he saw a blown out window that looked big enough to act as a door. He quickly levitated up to the portal and stepped through, successfully bypassing the blocked lower levels. Lying on the floor just inside the window was Krol Del'Axle. Dantrag suppressed a grin as he saw the massive wound on the scout's chest. Too bad.
Dantrag did not waste his time as he felt the floor beneath him shake as the attacks continued. Instead he raced through the hallways, taking note of the several dead guards that lined the narrow corridors. Zak had definitely been this way. Following the trail of bodies, Dantrag only hoped he would meet his nemesis in time.
***
Zak and Jarl fought as if there were no tomorrow. For one of them, it was literally true. Jarl knew he was dead. His house was gone, and Matron Baenre was the reason. There was no escaping from her, Jarl knew. In a few moments the magical barriers protecting the audience chamber would crumble and the room would explode. Whether Jarl would be taken captive or killed on the spot mattered little. All he knew was that after this night, his life as Jarlnian Del'Axle would be at an end. Who better to put him out of his misery than Zaknafein?
This was more than just a suicide effort, however. Jarl did feel honest anger toward his "friend." They had spoken not two nights ago, and Zak surely must have known about this attack, but he had said nothing. Jarl refused to look at this realistically. Of course Zak could not inform Jarl of the fight. If House Del'Axle had been tipped off, it would have spelled doom for House Do'Urden. Zak had had no choice in the matter. It was the drow way.
Jarl could see that Zak was a drow warrior now. The skilled Do'Urden had just stormed through the Del'Axle compound killing everything in sight. He cared little for who died or why. It was his duty. It was his job. Jarl, while not agreeing with it, understood it. It was all part of the survival plan. Well, Jarl could survive too. And as hopeless as his case seemed, he planned on giving it his best shot.
To Zak, this fight was beyond reason. With the exception of killing the 12 priestesses, Zak had acted mostly against his loosely thrown together set of beliefs. It was true, as Jarl had said, that he did not have any quarrel with anyone within this house. He did not know the names of the drow he killed and, frankly, he did not care. He had lost, and he knew it. He knew now that he could not maintain his righteous set of beliefs and still survive in this city. It was kill or be killed.
Thus, neither Jarl nor Zak acted as friends. There was no room for friendship in the life of a true drow warrior. Their battle was a perfect picture of why the drow society was ultimately doomed to failure. Here were two excellent fighters. Side by side they could repel the most powerful of foes. If used effectively they could bring prominence and power to any house. Not only that, but they were good friends as well. And here they were, killing each other, for no more reason than the whims of a few matron mothers.
Jarl was a blinding whirl of motion. Besides his brief clash with Krol, he had seen no action in this battle, and his energy level and stamina played no role at all. He danced about in his unique swashbuckling style sending a flurry of attacks toward Zak.
Zak was the textbook opposite of his wild opponent. Zak had seen nothing but action since the beginning of the battle, and the abuse he had just been through against the three high priestesses weighed down on his body heavily. Fatigue should have been a factor, but it was not. Like when he had been on the surface battling Dantrag, Zak was able to put aside all those physical afflictions and fight on pure adrenaline.
Still, Zak worked solely defensively. He was not so caught up in rage as to forget whom he was fighting. Jarl was more than a formidable opponent, and his unique style of fighting was something very new to Zak. Though he had seen it many times before, this was the first time he had ever faced it. Zak's blocks and parries snapped into place, leaving no opening at all for Jarl's whirling blades. The odd style worked best against multiple attackers, confusing them and crossing them up. Against Zak, it just looked foolish.
Zak blocked a sweeping high attack and was able to rotate the same blade down low to push aside a low thrust from Jarl's other weapon, leaving Zak's off hand free. He sent it in high toward Jarl's head. Jarl ducked easily, but Zak had known he would and sent his right boot toward Jarl's face. Instead of rolling away, like was expected, Jarl hopped forward and caught the kick under his left arm, pinning the leg to his side.
Zak was caught off guard and tried a daring move by pivoting on his secured leg and sweeping his left foot toward Jarl's head. The crouched fighter did roll away now, and with Zak's leg still pinned under his arm, he sent the taller fighter tumbling. Jarl leaped to his feet quickly as Zak spun to the ground. He ran over to the fallen drow, but Zak was quick and spun around to his back, swing one of his blades out wide as he did.
Jarl had to quickly check his rush, or risk being impaled by the defensive sweep. This pause allowed Zak the time he needed to get back up, and the two were at it again. Zak went on the offensive now as much as Jarl. Around them, the room shook and rocked from the magical beating it was taking from outside, but neither fighter noticed.
Slowly but surely, Jarl was wearing Zak down, and they both knew it. Both could see it was only a matter of time before Zak crumbled under the unending attacks of his opponent. Both also realized that with risky improvisation as Zak's only option, Jarl would be ready for it. Zak had to try something else.
Jarl pushed hard, and Zak was forced to back pedal furiously in order to keep his enemy at bay. Jarl saw that they were nearing the center of the room where Zak had done battle with his sisters and mother. A plan formed in Jarl's head, and he pressed on. Unbeknownst to him, it was the same plan Zak had already put into motion.
Jarl struck low and hard, forcing Zak to hop backwards. Jarl then snapped his blades up high and Zak leaned back to bring his weapons up. The Del'Axle was not finished yet, and kicked out at his opponent's gut. Zak tried to take another step in retreat, but he had backed into one of Jarl's dead sisters, and he tripped. With his upper body already leaning backwards, Zak lost all semblance of balance and toppled over. His back hit the stone floor hard and his right weapon went skittering across the floor.
Jarl grinned as he leaped over his sister and sent his two weapons in for the kill. Zak swept his remaining sword above his chest, knocking both of Jarl's blades aside, but the nimble fighter was quick to react, locking a hilt with the one blocking weapon and pushing it back out of the way. Without hesitation he drove his remaining weapon down. Out of the corner of his eye, Jarl could see Zak bringing his right arm back in, but he knew that the empty hand could not stop the deathblow.
The hand was not empty.
Five of the six heads on the high priestess whip bit hard into Jarl's face and chest, and though he had built up a tolerance to the poison during his years as a page, the shear suddenness of the attack shocked him. Even without the poison, the pain was intense, and Jarl's attacking blade missed the mark.
Zak cocked his right arm again and lashed out at his attacker. Jarl was too close and disoriented to put up an effective defense and merely waved his blades in front of him to ward of the attack. Several heads still got through, and one hit him right between the eyes, stealing his sight. Zak rose quickly, a sword in one hand and a whip in the other.
The high priestess whip was inanimate. The snake heads hung limply from the handle. In the hands of a priestess, the snake heads would be able to attack independently, almost possessing a will of their own. They did not do this for Zak, and if Reinela (the whip was hers) was still alive, the snake heads would actually turn on its male wielder. Still, the whip was no less venomous and, in the hands of Zak, no less accurate.
Now Jarl tripped over his dead sister as he backpedaled away. With just his one sword, Zak would have been able to overcome his disoriented opponent, but with the whip in his other hand he totally overwhelmed him. Zak knocked one weapon out of Jarl's hand and wrapped the end of his whip around the hilt of the other one, yanking it free as well. Jarl flew to the ground from a kick to his midsection and Zak stood over him.
With out even thinking about his action, Zak raised his sword for the kill. Then he paused and looked at his blade. It was red. It was covered in blood. Drow blood. The blood of his people. Here he was about to thrust his weapon into yet another drow chest. Why? Because Matron Baenre told him to? Because Matron Vartha told him to? Because Malice told him to? What about him? What did he want? What did Zaknafein want?
Zak lowered his raised weapon. "What are you doing?!" Jarl cried. "Kill me! What is wrong with you?"
Zak shook his head. "You were right. If I'm not careful I will turn into Dantrag."
"What?" Jarl was not enjoying this moment at all. The sounds of stone cracking and crumbling was very audible in the small chamber and Jarl knew that House Baenre was only a few seconds from breaking in. He was going to die. He would have preferred to do so by Zak's blade, quick and painless. Now was not the time for soul searching.
Jarl was trying to figure out what to say, but the room exploded. The far wall opposite of where the Clawrift lay exploded inward, finally yielding as the magical shields gave way. Huge chunks of limestone and granite rained sideways into the pair. Jarl curled up on the ground, but Zak was standing prone. A huge chunk of rock clipped him in the arm, and he spun to the ground, losing his whip.
The dust and noise settled, and Jarl scrambled to his feet, recovering one of his weapons. He looked out of the room through the gaping hole and saw his fate awaiting him. Triel Baenre sat on her floating disk as she and Matron Vartha slowly floated toward the hole. Jarl looked around frantically, trying to find some way he could escape. His eyes searched the room, but he found only one means to avoid the vengeful Baenre.
Zak was slowly getting to his feet, very sore and bruised. He looked up to see Jarl charging at him again, a very desperate look on his face. "Kill me!" he cried and lashed out with his weapon. Zak was almost the one to die as he barely got his weapon up to catch the strike. For as much as Jarl apparently wanted to die, he did not give Zak many openings to carry out the request.
Zak had fought through pain before, but that had had been all it was, just pain. Now he was disabled. He could not bring his right arm above his shoulder and it hung limply by his side. While he held his weapon in his left hand, he needed his right for balance. Jarl pushed him harder and harder, his rage and desperation blinding him to his opponent's helpless state.
Triel smiled when she saw Jarl. She had not seen him since she had presented him to the spiders in the distant cavern, but she imagined to herself that she could recognize him. "You escaped me once," she mumbled to herself, "but not this time." She raised her arms and prepared to blow him into oblivion.
To her side, Matron Vartha saw Triel preparing to cast a spell and she cried out. "No! Zaknafein is too close. You'll kill them both."
Triel stopped and looked at Vartha. "He is only a male."
"But he is to be my weapon master," she replied. "Please let them finish. If Zaknafein wins, you will not need to waste your spell. If he does not, you will be able to kill the Del'Axle while you have his full attention."
Triel did not know why she listened to the matron mother, but she did. She held off for the moment. As the fight neared its end, though, she saw that she would still need to use it. Zak would not win.
Zak's parries came later and later, and each of Jarl's attacks drove him further into retreat and put him more off balance. Zak finally had to duck a high cut and received a knee to the face. He fell back and Jarl now had him in the same position that he had been in. "Trust me," Jarl said as he raised his weapon, "I'm doing you a favor."
Just outside of the chamber, Vartha looked on in horror. "Now would be a good time," she said hurriedly to Triel. Triel had no intention of obliging. So as Jarl drove his weapon down, it was Vartha who let loose a terrific spell.
Zak was lying flat on his back, watching as Jarl's blade came down, and then he was gone. In the briefest of seconds, there was a terrific noise, the room filled with livid energy, and then it was quiet. Jarl was gone.
As Zak was getting up, Dantrag rushed into the room. The weapon master's eyes lit up at the sight of the wounded drow. This would be an easy kill. He took three steps toward Zak and a voice stopped him. "Dantrag, I assume the rest of the compound is clear?"
Dantrag spun about to see his sister and Matron Vartha step off their floating disks and into the audience chamber. It was not much of a chamber anymore. The roof was all but gone, and there were multiple holes throughout the room. It looked more like a high platform now, completely open to the outside.
Dantrag looked back the way he had come and realized Triel thought that he had taken the long route just to make sure everything was cleared out. He nodded to his sister. He cast one more look at Zak, who was limping over to a huge hole in the back of the room and sighed. They would not have an opportunity to fight today, not with both Triel and Vartha looking on.
Zak approached the hole carefully, noting the large cracks and unstable rock formations that made up the floor. He also felt a slight breeze, which was rather uncommon in the underdark. The reason why became obvious when he peered out of the hole. This side of the stalagmite bordered the very edge of the Clawrift. Zak looked out into it and saw complete darkness. "So long, my friend," he called into the abyss.
Triel and Vartha were busy rooting through the rubble and debris, trying to figure out which bodies were which. "What happened up here?" Vartha asked, looking intently at the four dead high priestesses.
Zak walked over and told his story. "She was dead when I arrived," Zak said, pointing to the youngest of the three Del'Axle daughters. "The other three I killed."
"You killed three high priestesses?" Triel said, her voice on the edge of laughter.
Malice now floated up to the top chamber and nimbly stepped through one of the gaping holes. "Zaknafein?" she cried as if she were looking at a ghost. "I thought you were dead."
Both Triel and Vartha looked curiously at her. Malice explained. "I was linked with him, and I followed his progress through the lower levels of the chapel, but when he got to this room I assumed him dead." Malice bent over to examine the bodies. They were obviously killed by a drow blade.
Triel turned back to Zak in shock. "You killed three high priestesses?!"
"Four," Malice corrected, remembering his exploits in the main chapel. "And eight common priestesses. Twelve in all."
Triel could only laugh. She turned to Dantrag. "Perhaps you were right. House Do'Urden might have been able to do this on their own."
Dantrag did not know if he was being complimented or humbled. He bowed toward his sister. "And what of Iblith?" Zak looked around at the others, confused by the question. Dantrag continued and then Zak understood. "What of our brother?"
"Dead," Zak spoke up.
Dantrag turned to address Zak. "Show me his body."
Zak motioned toward the back of the room. Dantrag quickly leaped over some rocks and ran back toward the gaping hole. The floor gave way slightly and he barely caught himself at the edge of the drop, his toes hanging out over the abyss.
"Watch that first step," Zak said. "It's a killer."
"He went in there?" Dantrag asked, very disappointed.
"I saw it myself," Triel said. "Our vengeance is satisfied. Come, let us leave this place. The thirteenth, uh, twelfth house can do what they wish with what remains."
Dantrag walked past Zak, Khazid'hea begging for some action. They exchanged careful glances, and then Dantrag disappeared over the ledge, floating back down to the compound floor. Zak swore would never become like him.
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