 A New Problem... By: Jhaelryna The Yochol, a handmaiden of Lloth, stood over the Valsharess and continued to speak. "The plan is failing. The accursed dwarves are stubborn, and resistant to our magics. In the fullness of time, perhaps this method of attack will work. But you do not have that luxury of time. As it stands now, Axepeak will still be a threat to your plans." Valsharess Jhaelryna stood quietly and brooded on this latest development. Curse those stunted dwarves. Their digging and tunneling under the Mountain was not a direct threat. But it was a threat none the less. She had worked for some time on a way to undermine the dwarves, to slowly corrupt them. But the recent orders of the Spider Queen had moved up her timetable somewhat. She quickly came to a decision. "I shall continue as planned. Our original plans shall proceed. I cannot, however, guarantee the destruction of the dwarves by the time we need...but they can certainly be...distracted." Understanding the Valsharess' intent, the Yochol nodded and disappeared. Jhaelryna cackled evilly as she wrote her orders. The dwarves would be distracted, most certainly. And it would prove interesting indeed. Durhelm Stonehew wiped the sweat from his brow and set down his pick. A rich vein! He made a quick note on a crumpled parchment, then stuffed the parchment back into his miner's coveralls. If this vein of silver was as rich as he thought, then the dwarves would profit much this season. He heard several buzzing and whizzing sounds, and felt a few sharp stings on his neck and back. "Blasted moss-keetos!!" he thought. His vision swam, and as he fell into unconsciousness he wondered just what mosquitoes were doing a thousand feet underground. The dwarven patrol found him early the next day. He was stripped naked and chained to an outcropping of rock. His skin had been flayed off, layer by p1ainful layer. Blood lay in a pool at his feet. "By Moradin!!" cried the patrol leader as he ran to the tortured dwarf's side. Durhelm lifted his head, tears in his eyes, and tried to speak. Shaking off his revusion at the bloodied and beaten face, the patrol leader whispered "Who wer th' devils wot dun this to ye, lad?" Durhelm moaned a few unintelligable sounds and then slumped into unconsciousness. The leader turned from the poor dwarf, and barked "Don' ye jes stand ther, lads! Free him, and we best be gettin' 'im to th' clan 'ealers. One o' ye gives him an 'ealing draught ta steady 'im." The soldiers scrambled to aid their wounded comrade. "Why did he nae speak?" asked a soldier as he gently lowered his friend to the ground. The patrol leader spun around angrily. "Becaus' they cut out 'is tongue!" he yelled, "I swear by Moradin tha' I repay those wot dun this seventyfold!!". His words echoed down the dark passageways of the mines. A short distance away, a dark form noted the goings on, and silently slipped back to report that the mission was proceeding as planned. Dark Times Upon Us.... By: Nystramo Nystramo looked down at the unconscious Tigguhr, a feeling of dread filling him. "Beldarak," he had said before passing out. Treachery. He motioned for the gaurds to take him someplace safe. "I wants two kuldar on 'im a' all times," he ordered. Events were taking a turn, and not for the better. He could smell it in the rock. "Nys." A voice behind him interrupted his thoughts. He turned and saw Dwyvyrn, a bleak look on his face. More bad news, he thought. "Comes wi' me, Nys. It be Durhelm." The chief of Clan Axepeak watched in silence as the healers worked feverishly on the miner. Durhelm's agony was evident, but true to his heritage he didn't cry out. A cleric of Moradin prayed over him, both to aid in the healing and to alert the god to the possibility of a new arrival. Some of his skin had grown back, and the beginning of a new tongue was forming. Nystramo forced himself to watch it all. One of the healers approached him. "We done our bes', Olor Kuld. We kinna be savin' 'im." Nystramo nodded and approached the dying dwarf. Durnhelm looked up at his chief, knowing full well his fate. With difficulty, he spoke. "I be on my way, chief." Nystramo nodded. It was not the way of dwarves to insult honored comrades with comforting lies. "It be too slow," the dwarf continued. "Nae... nae tha way I wants it." Nystramo looked over to one of the healers, who nodded. Death was assured, but it would be long and painful. "Do me tha... tha honor.... Olor Kuld." Nystramo nodded once more and drew Rorn Norogh, his fearsome axe. "I makes it quick, samman. Serves Moradin a' well a' ya ha' served tha clan." Durnhelm nodded, managed a gruesome smile, and the axe fell. "I gots a job fer ya," Nystramo told Dwyvyrn in his office. "I needs ta ken wha' 'appened down there." Dwyvyrn nodded, expecting the assignment. "Picks yer team and finds who done this." "Who ya thinks, Nys?" Dwyvyrn asked, though he had his own ideas. "Drow er duergar, I be thinkin'. Both be cruel enou' fer this." "Wha' 'bouts tha ITB?" Dwyvyrn didn't really believe this possibility, but thought it should be mentioned. "Nae." Nys shook his head. "Nae down this deep, an' I'm thinkin' they'd be leavin' a sign ta tells us it wa' them. This' be reekin' o' tha Underdark. Find outs, kin, an' whoever it be, I wants one alive." Dwy nodded and left to choose his hunting party, knowing full well that they might never see the halls of Lonely Mountain again. "Bonie!" Nys barked after Dwyvyrn left. The lass, still shaken from seeing Durnhelm as he was carried up from the mines, entered the room. "Aye, Olor Kuld?" "Summons tha Council o' Elders. Tells 'em we be meetin' in tha war room a' noon. We gots plans to make." She nodded and ran off to fulfill her duties, wondering if she would be allowed the luxury of finding happiness with Delfthand after all. Deception By: Jhaelryna The drow soldiers put aside their normal weapons, and instead armed themselves with warhammers and battleaxes. They laughed and joked amongst themselves as they entered the slave pens. A group of duergar slaves huddled in the corner, warily watching the drow advance upon them. "It's time that you served Lloth, filthy creatures." said the Captain of the drow. "You will play a most fitting part in a little drama..." Moving purposefully through the mines, the three man dwarven patrol kept a wary watch for anything unusual. Without warning, the dwarves were engulfed in inky blackness. "Drow!!" cried the veteran who was leading the patrol,"Stand firm, lads!" Within a split second, the drow were upon them. The dwarves lashed out blindly with their weapons as they attempted to retreat clear of the magical darkness. The drow, trained in blind fighting, knifed and slashed at the retreating dwarves. As the veteran at last exited the blackness, he found to his dismay that his comrades were not as lucky as he. He grimly set his weapon and launched himself at the first drow to emerge from the darkness spell. "That'll teach ye, ye blasted elfies!" he cried as his axe disembowled his dark opponent. "Who be next?" When the battle was over the three unfortunate dwarves lay slain upon the tunnel floor. The drow had arranged the hacked bodies of a dozen duergar around them. Admiring his handiwork, the Captain of the drow finished placing the last corpse. A scene of great carnage. Even a detailed examination of the bodies would probably indicate that they had slain each other in mortal combat. He was sure that he would be commended for his actions. He had lost only one soldier, with 2 others being seriously wounded. The last dwarf had proved to be a challenging foe, he thought. An evil smile crept across his face as he thought of things to come. He intended to fulfil his orders to the letter. Within a few short weeks, the foolish dwarves would be chasing shadows under the Mountain. He barked a quick command to his men. The drow warband left the bloody remains behind them, pausing only to make sure that they left no discernable trail as they left. The Ironpeak Warrior.... By: KAGIS Kagis Ironpeak was no stranger to battle. In fact, he craved it... not the little encounters that were so common in these parts... but the big, knock down, drag out fights that pitt dwarf against all manner of fearce monster. Scratching his slightly peppered beard, Kagis thought about the recent attacks from the underdark, "Somethin' 'ere don' seem righ'. All raports seems ta implicate dem durn drow, but now we's find a patrol dat looks li' it be taken ou' by duergar. Rust and Tarnish!" Letting out a puff, "dat does it, I guess dere be nuttin ta do essept go down dere an' find out what befallen me kin." The battle-worn dwarf pounds across his small room in the Lonely Mounten, and approaches a large leather-bound chest. The chest is only slightly smaller than Kagis himself, made of mithrill steel and inlaid with silver. Kagis slides the chest into the center of the room, grunting under the weight. Reaching in his belt pouch, the dwarf draws out a golden key and inserts it in the locked chest. With a twist of the key, the chest unlocks. Kagis slowly, almost reverently, opens the chest's lid to peer down inside. "Come ta pappa me precious Kuldarau (The Great Axe)." Kagis reaches in the chest and pulls out the large battle axe. Running his hands over the weapon, Kagis breaths a deep sigh, remembering when his father passed the clan's weapon down to him. Kuldarau is centuries old and was forged of Mithrill and Nature's Magic by the first clan lord of the Ironpeak clan. Kagis hefts the Great Axe in one hand with a familiarity that speaks volumes of battles in bygone times. "Now we be seein' who dare attack me new clan sammans." Reaching back in the huge chest, Kagis retrieves a few more items. Tefflairn a hand-held crossbow of dwarven make that would shame those used by the drow. Kagis straps Tefflairn to his heavy leather belt, and retrieves a quarrel of magic bolts (a gift from a human paladin). Next, Barakalagh his stout shield. Finally, Kagis pulls out a small golden ring engraved with runes. Placing the ring of regeneration on his finger and hefting Kuldarau, Kagis leaves his delve heading for the lower delves of Lonely Mountain. His Iron-studded boots clomp resoundingly on the stone floors as Kagis steps into the grand meeting hall. Spotting Nystramo sitting in a corner speaking with Bonnielass, Kagis waves an armored hand at the Olor Kuld. "Greetin's kin!" Kagis calls out. Both Nys and Bonnie waive back. Bonnie nods to Nys then leaves on some errand, leaving the two warriors alone. "Wha' be bringin' ye from yer battle field ta da Morndin Kagis?" "I heard 'bout da attacks from da underdark. I cannae stand da thouht dat some wily dark elfies or those slagg duergar migh' be killin' me kin. So's 'ere I be..." Kagis pauses and then grins at Nys... "I be knowin' ya Nys... yer nae 'bout ta let dese attacks ta go unavenged. Ye be goin' ta send a warrior group down dere an' I be valunterrin' ta go." The Underdark... By: SUNDERFIST Sunderfist knew the Underdark well....he knew its perils as well as its beauty. He knew how to blend in with the surroundings, to become virtually invisible, to speak to the rocks and earth. But most of all, in his homeland of the Underdark, he was able to utilize the little known Svirfneblin power to summon creatures from the Elemental Plane of Earth. Perhaps he could even enlist the aid of his people if they passed close enough to his city! He knew he could help the dwarves....after all they had shown much kindness in accepting him, a total stranger, into their halls. Now all he had to do was convince Dywyvrn to allow a gnome on his quest team...."Hmm," he thought, "No small feat there!".... More Bad News.... By: Nystramo Nystramo examined the scene of the most recent carnage personally. With him we HiuFang Li and Patroc1us. Dwyvyrn was off preparing his hunting party, and Nys had sent Starkadh to search some less reputable avenues of information. Moradinson, having only recently assumed the title of Rrin Kuld, was still searching for a dwarf to replace him as 1st of the Guard. Hence, he was needed to organize the mount's defenses in this time of trouble. "Duergar," Patroc1us spat. "I kenned we ha nae seen tha las' o' tha greyskins." "So it would appear," HiuFang mused, scratching his chin. He was examining the bodies closely, making small questioning noises now and then. "Wha' ya be thinkin', kin?" Nystramo asked. HiuFang shrugged. "Well, my king, it certainly does appear that our kin and the duergar locked forces. The wounds indeed match the weapons here. Still, I must be truthful. I have some nagging questions." "Aye?" Nystramo asked. "So asks 'em an' be ou' wi' it." "The duergar here are a scrawny lot, even for their kind. I would suspect that this was the first battle they had seen in some time. Note that they do have some scars, but the scars one would recieve in battle are all very old. The rest are either from this particular battle, or are not battle scars at all. I would say they were more in keeping with whips, and perhaps even a snake bite or two." "Whips, eh? Ya sayin' they wa' slaves?" Nystramo thought for a moment. "Escaped slaves, mebbe? Fr'm some goblin er 'obgoblin camp?" It never occurred to him to think that they had escaped from the drow. Nobody escaped from the drow, except in death. HiuFang nodded. "Yes, my king, that is certainly a possibility. Still, the snake bites make me wonder...." His voice trailed off, lost in thought. Patroc1us spoke up, his scowl even more severe than usual. "Pfagh! Wha' I wants ta ken is 'ow thi' scrawny lot bested our kin!" He pointed to one of the fallen dwarves, who still held a mighty axe in his grasp. "Goran be one o' our stoutest kuldar. E'en Dwyvyrn too' a sparrin' match wi' 'im seriously. I nae sees 'im bein' felled by a few scrawny greyskins." "Magix?" Nystramo asked. Both HiuFang and Patroc1us shrugged. "I cannot say, my king. We do not have enough information. I believe we have surmised all that we are able, at the moment." Nystramo nodded. "Aye, we be gainin' nothin' more 'ere. We doubles tha patrols fer now. I wants six kuldar on every outin', an' a cleric be accompanyin' 'em. If'n they be bringin' magix ta bear on us, lets be seein' wha' a bi' o' Moradin's power kin do fer us." The three elders of the clan made their way back to the upper halls, each lost in thought. Dark times, indeed, and there was no sign that they would be improving any time soon. Poor Kitty By: D1AMOND D1AMOND stepped out of Nys' work room in time to see Tigguhr peel the bucket off of his head and fall to the floor in pain. Even though the lad could be an irritant and feeling more than a bit guilty as she watched him twitch on the floor, D1 ran in concern to help the now unconcious Tigguhr. Nystramo was already leaning over Tig when D1 arrived at his side. "Is he alright?" she asked Nys shakily. Distracted by the fallen lads last words and the smell of foul magic, Nys had not noticed D1's appearance until she had spoke to him. The tremor in her voice and the way she didn't look him in the eye when she spoke did not escape his notice. Taking hold of her chin and turning it towards him, Nys forced D1 to look him in the eye. After looking her in the eyes searchingly for a few seconds, Nys asked, "Ye ken somthin' 'bout this, don't ye lass?" D1 nodded and preceeded to tell Nys how she, out of anger towards Tig, hit him over the head and locked him in her cellar. The bucket, she explained, was used to subdue him when he had tried to escape a few days later. She continued, "Tha lads bin in me cellar fer nigh on a week an' I fears tha' his condition be me doin'." At any other time Nys would have found D1's behavior amusing, but he knew that more was happening here than a few days locked in a cellar. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder to comfort her, Nys said, "There be more at werk here, lass, than tha' lads being locked in a cellar fer a week wit nae a ale to drink. Any dwarf would be hard pressed indeed to be in such dier circumstances, but I thin' there be some dark magic involved here," then went on to explain what Tigguhr had said to him. As Nystramo called for some guard's to take Tig away, D1 looked down in concern at the wounds Tig had caused himself while pulling the bucket from his head. Putting her hand on Nys' arm to stop him as he commanded Tig's removal, D1 asked, "At least let me look after his wounds, Nys. Mayhap I cin git him ta talks more sense when he wakes up." Nys looks at the limp body being hauled away between two guards, and nods to D1AMOND. She reaches up, gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and says, "Thankyee," then runs off after the guards. Another Card is Played... By: Jhaelryna "Keep movin, ya lazy dogs!" yelled Gunklob as he waved his falchion menacingly. The goblin chieftan was anxious to get started on his war of conquest. He looked over to his side, where Gaglug the shaman was rummiging through a bag of foul-smelling herbs. The chieftan had little respect for shaman, "Too crazy, if ya asks me" he said to himself. "Wot?" said the guard passing next to him. Gunklob bashed his weapon into the side of the guard's head, and snarled "Keep yer nose whar it belongs!". Making certain to keep his thoughts to himself this time, the goblin leader thought about the course of events that had brought him to this place. He and his tribe had been approached by a party of drow, seeking to parlay. Gunklob was no fool, and he knew that the sneaky spider-kissers never asked politely for anything, much less for anything from goblins. None the less, he listened to what they had to say. They offered him a chance for glory that he could not refuse. He was given a golden opportunity to strike at his hated enemies, the dwarves. The drow provided him with provisions, weapons, and most importantly, detailed maps of the lowest levels of the dwarven stronghold. They promised Gunklob that they would assist him in battle, and would allow him to rule the Mountain after the dwarves were driven from it. It was an opportunity they could not pass up. The very next day, his tribe was moving through the underground passages towards the dwarves. The chieftan cast another annoyed glance towards Gaglug. The drow had given Gunklob his magical falchion to aid in the battle, and had given something to the shaman as well. But Gaglug had hidden it away, tucked in some secret pocket of his. Every once in a while, Gunklob was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of the shiny object, but the shaman jealously guarded his treasure. The chieftan figured that he could search the shaman's possessions while he slept, but dismissed the idea. He had no desire to get any closer to the smelly shaman than he had to. The other goblins laughed at Gaglug, and claimed that the mere stench of the shaman would stun a dwarf at 10 paces. Holding his nose as a breeze passed over the goblin horde, the chieftan figured that their guess was fairly accurate. He shook his head, and turned his thoughts back to the conquest to come, and he thought of the glories he would win. He did not know that the drow had no intention of aiding his attack, and he had no way of knowing that the map he was given was false. The map showed the location of the dwarven stronghold well enough, but all of the interior details were invented by the imagination of the drow Captain. The drow cared not at all for the fate of the goblins. Once the goblins reached the dwarven holding, the drow plan would have succeeded. The Captain cared not whether the goblins had a chance against the dwarves. All that mattered was to get them there. The goblin band marched on. Fifteen score warriors, all intent upon war with their ancient enemy. Battle would soon be met under the mountain. The Plan in Motion By: Jhaelryna The drow Captain listened to the reports of his scouts, and was pleased. The dwarves had reacted as planned. The dwarven patrols had been increased in number and strength. Soon they expected the dwarves to come down into the Underdark, hunting those that slew their kin. The drow prepared to withdraw his small force of a dozen soldiers. The small contingent of drow could not confront the power of the dwarves, now that it was awakened. But they would continue to leave enticing clues as they went. They prepared counterfeit duergar campsites to be discovered, and left duergar food remains and marks of passing for the patrols to find. The bullheaded dwarves would predictibly be drawn after them, away from the prepared defenses of the Mountain. Then, the outermost patrols would be surprised and overrun by the several hundred goblins now marching towards the unsuspecting dwarves. The Captain chuckled to himself. Even the strong patrols of the dwarves had little chance against such weight of numbers. The losses of more patrols would further enrage the dwarves, and they would march out in strength to destroy the goblins utterly. And that is what the drow were counting on. Hidden Weapon By: D1AMOND D1AMOND followed the guards to Tigguhr's room and watched as they placed him onto his bed. She nodded to the guards as they turned to set their watch by Tig's door. Remembering Nys' words about foul magic, D1 stopped one of the lads and asked him to fetch a healer. Tigguhr did a world of hurt to himself, nothing bad enough for a healer, but she wanted a cleric type about to see if they could maybe detect any magic on the unconcious lad. With the guards set, D1 went about cleaning the hardened cobbler from what was left of Tig's hair and beard. Then she cleaned and dressed the bare patches were Tig had torn out his hair. As she was taking off his soiled shirt, she felt something hard hidden underneath, close to his chest. Under his clothing she found a small crossbow and bolt. D1amond had seen many weapons in her life, but this was like no crossbow she had ever seen. Making sure that the lad was comfortable, D1 went to show the crossbow to Nystramo. As she was leaving, she felt it important to tell the guards, "Makes sure ye watches 'im closey, and nae be trustin' a werd he says. When 'e wakes, please send werd ta tha chief er me." D1 was leaning over Nystramo's seated shoulder when Starkadh entered the work room. She looked up with a smile, but then noticed the serious set to both Nys' and Stark's faces. D1 studied Stark as he stood before his chief and received his orders. She watched as his features grew harder and harder with each of Nys' words and his fists clinched tighter and tighter. The way he held himself, D1 almosts expected Stark to spit in Nys' face and tell him to take a flying leap, but he nodded and agreed to gather as much information he could. She continued to watch him carefully as he turned to leave. Stark glanced at her while leaving. D1, who was expecting Stark's usual wink, almost gasped when she saw instead a glare of hatred. Dropping her hand from Nystramo's shoulder, D1 started to go after Stark, but then she heard Nys exclaim as he found symbols etched inside of the crossbow he was once again examining. "Drow!" He almost shouted, and startled D1AMOND from her thoughts. She'd have to talk to Stark later, she thought, and turned her attention back to Nystramo. Into the Underdark By: Dwyvyrn Dwyvyrn chose his hunting party carefully. When news of Durhelm Stonehew's torture had filtered through the clan, every dwarf capable of hefting an axe was eager to head out and avenge his death. Their enthusiasm cooled considerably when word of Goran's patrol came back. All three of those dwarves had been seasoned fighters. All three were dead. Still, many kin sought danger and asked to be a member of the expedition. Even the deep-gnome Sunderfist had approached him about joining up. While Dwyvyrn had originally scoffed at this notion, he warmed up to it after a bit of thought. As the party ventured deeper into the passages under Lonely Mountain, the surface dwarves would become less familiar with their surroundings. In contrast, the svirfneblin would be entering areas much better known to him, and his knowledge of the Underdark could prove critical to the party's survival. In the end, Dwyvyrn selected four warriors to accompany him and the deep-gnome on their journey. In addition a priestess, Gilgina, would accompany the group. She was one of the clan's most potent healers and a competent fighter as well. If there was one common trait found in the party members, it was that none of them had any family here in Lonely Mountain. Dwyvyrn fully expected that the party would return to the clan halls with fewer members than it departed with, if it returned at all. Dwyvyrn hurriedly strode into the training hall where the party had gathered, after attending a last-minute meeting of the clan elders. Although the elders were in agreement that the duergar did not seem to be the only ones behind this assault, they were unsure what other races might be involved. While it was possible that one of the surface races had forced the duergar to aid them, this did not concern the council too greatly. All of the dwarven warriors were adept at combatting their perennial surface foes such as goblins, orcs, gnolls, and giants. Indeed, since the duergar infiltrations had ceased many months ago, the only combat the dwarven patrols had seen was on the surface (In fact, subterranean patrols had been held in such low regard of late that dwarven warriors actively sought places on the surface patrols, where the chance of finding action was much greater). If the expedition should happen to encounter one of these races, the dwarves would hold a decided advantage in underground combat techniques. What concerned the council of elders was the much more likely chance that one of the races of the underdark was aiding the duergar. Only the drow and the illithids had the power necessary to gain the cooperation of the dark dwarves, either willingly or unwillingly. Few of Axepeak's warriors had any battle experience against either of these races. To compensate for this, a quick training session was conducted to refresh the fighters in tactics used when fighting these foes. First they practiced blindfighting to combat the darkness used by the drow. Although the dwarves did not expect to match the expertise of the dark elves in this tactic, they would at least be able to perform an organized retreat to a place where they could set up a proper defense. Next, they worked on summoning dwarven battle-rage, the best defense they had against the mental attacks of the mind-flayers. As he watched a blindfolded Sunderfist struggle to fend off attacks, Dwyvyrn momentarily questioned his decision to allow the svirfneblin to join the group. He realized however, that the deep-gnome's ability to summon elemental beings represented perhaps their best chance of surviving an attack from either drow or illithids. In that way he served them better than the most powerful dwarven warrior. When their practice was complete, the group packed up their weapons, rations, and supplies. Once all was in order, they slowly filed out and headed toward the gate that separated the clan halls from the lower caverns. As the recently-doubled guard moved methodically to unbar and open the gate, Nystramo came down to wish each member of the expedition luck. Approaching Dwyvyrn, he clapped him squarely on the shoulders and managed a weak smile. "Findar, samman" were his only words. Dwy returned the smile, determined to show nothing but confidence to his party. "Aye, Olor Kuld. We'll finds out wots be goin' on down under da Mount." With that, the seven stout warriors descended into the lower caves. As the sound of the gate shutting behind them echoed down the passage, Dwy couldn't help but wonder if he would ever again hoist an ale inside the granite halls of Clan Axepeak... The Captain Broods By: Jhaelryna "Farewell" was all the drow Captain said to his wounded men, and then he turned away. Severely wounded by the unexpected ferocity of the dwarven veteran, the two wounded drow had become a detriment to the rest of the group. Drow were a practical people, and those that could not contribute anything were disposed of. Of friendship and of mercy, the drow knew nothing. The Captain heard weapons being drawn, and soon the labored breathing of the two wounded men had stopped forever. The other soldiers methodically stripped the bodies of all valuables and weapons, then tossed the bodies over the side of a fissure. Some monster in the Underdark would feed well today, thought the Captain. The Captain sat upon a rock, and berated himself for the useless waste of his men. He felt no loyalty or grief for them, for they were simple pawns and easily replaced. What gnawed at him was the fact that he had lost three soldiers, and had killed only three dwarves. An even exchange was unacceptable, and he knew that he would have to answer serious questions about his command when he returned to the drow city. Why had he been so foolish? He should have sprung an ambush upon the dwarven patrol. He should have felled them with poisoned bolts and been done with it. But in his pride, he ordered his men to melee the dwarves. Nothing could be done about it now, however. He needed to focus on the tasks before him. To dwell further on his mistakes would only serve to distract him from his responsibilities. He scribbled a coded message onto a piece of parchment, and gave it to the messenger. "Take this back immediately", he commanded briskly. The drow messenger promptly saluted, and began his trek back to the drow city. "I'll not underestimate you again, foul dwarves" muttered the Captain, "Not again." From Bad to Worse.... By: Nystramo Nystramo looked at the small hand crossbow with a furrowed brow. Drow. At the very least he could be certain they were behind Tigguhr's bizarre behavior. And the attacks? All signs pointed to the duergar. Further patrols had revealed campsites that had clearly been used by the greyskins. Still, the timing could hardly be a coincidence. He shuddered as he considered the possiblities. An alliance between the two races? Not out of the question, he knew. Both had a hatred for dwarves, and it was not unknown for the two to work together to eliminate a common foe. Of course, Nystramo knew full well that the drow always made certain to come out on top after such alliances, but that was small comfort now. "Thin's dinna be lookin' goo', does they lad?" D1amond asked with concern. Never had she seen Nys so worried, and she had to admit, it frightened her a bit. The chief was not one to be easily spooked. Nys shook his head. "Nae lass, it dinna," he answered, still staring at the crossbow. No, things weren't looking good at all.
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