Seeking Answers






            Quiet footsteps left easily seen impressions along the lichen covered stones, slowly and carefully making their way through the lightless cavern. She didn’t worry about the trail her steps left behind, they would be erased by the burden she dragged along in her wake. Her concern wasn’t what lay behind, but what awaited her ahead.

            She was almost to the point of desperation to have answers. Real answers and not more riddles and teasing gifts. For once and for all she had to have answers to be able to shut up the smarmy know it all voice. The voice that crept up behind her at the oddest times. That one that sounded so much like the rasping much too deep voice of her mother with a mixture of that light betaken Triel Baenre’s lilting soprano voice.

            For once in a very long time she had made real preparations, and up to this point she had followed them to the letter. If she deviated the slightest it was possible she’d never live to make it through these caverns, let alone find out the information she so craved.

            The female ran a slender ebony hand through tufted green hair, as she surveyed her surroundings. Yes she was almost there, she was certain he had made his way to these caverns after what had happened.

            No not he. It. She couldn’t let herself begin to think of him as her youngest brother. He had ceased being Narfein when he had been transformed and she had done nothing to safe him. “Not he, no never he. Not again. It. It’s a tool. A tool, a thing. That’s right a thing. A thing, a thing.” Repeating those words over and over again against the memories that tried to resurface, the dark elf rubbed her aching left shoulder and began her trek again.

            With a sharp snap her burden was snagged on an unseen rocky outcropping. The female looked around to make sure nothing had heard the low moan that had escaped her bundle. Bending over she twisted the limb from the crevice it was wedged into. She had made sure to leave it alive, the thing she was going to see would be more appreciative of a warm meal.

            Coming into the cavern she sought, she turned sideways and squeezed through a crevice leaving her burden behind. Taking hold of her captive, the dark elf had to brace both feet on each side of the huge stalagmites that flanked her entrance and yanked with all the strength in her deceptively small frame. After several pulls her gift came loose with a wet sliding sound followed by a muffled splash as it fell into a stagnant pool of some unknown liquid.

            Retrieving her package from the slightly glowing pool, the female’s roving eyes spied a clump of fungus near the eastern wall of the cavern. Cocking her head to the side she muttered, “I need those. I can’t find those anywhere and look how big they are.” Stopping herself before she could be distracted, “No, no. Later maybe. If things go right maybe I can snag those shrooms on my way out. It’s too risky now. Later, later, later.”  

            Hooking her long fingers through the bindings that secured her captives wrists, she started her way toward a clump of webbing covering a hollowed out impression in the northern end of the cavern. It looked to have been made of magic, and Narfein would still be able to use his magic even though he was no longer the same handsome, cocky dark elf he had been.

            “It’s a thing, a thing, a thing.” The dark elf started muttering again, as thoughts of her brother floated to the forefront of her thoughts.

            As she approached the cave the soft sound of clicking came to her pointed ears. The same sound as a spider tapping along the streets of Menzoberranzen or across some Matron Mother’s audience chamber. A chill swept through the female at those remembered sounds. Then parting the webs that covered the entrance, he stepped out and all rational thought (the little that still existed) was swept away from her like a rushing stream.

            She saw her brother move out into the cavern as beautiful as he ever was. He was dressed as he typically was in rich velvet layered over the finest spider silk trimmed in shimmering embroidery. Shining be-gemmed rings decked his every finger. Golden hoops dangled from his slender ears. His thick silver hair flowed in cascades down his back stopping at his waist line. His black rothe hide boots were polished to a high shine that she could have sworn she could see her reflection. That same dazzling smile just like his father, the one that had caused so many females to stop for another look.

            “Who wants to taste death today?” The question asked in a sibilant voice broke the hold on her and she saw what truly stood before her.

            The creature had once been a male dark elf, but not any longer. The once silver hair was dirty and tangled. The rich clothes hung off his upper torso in dingy strips and tatters. No jewelry adorned his fingers. She could see no expensive boots, for why should she. Driders had no need of them. How could they have afforded four pairs of such expensive shoes anyway? The thought almost made her giggle. A strip of once white lace dangled around his grey wrist and stopped the giggle like sharp knife against her throat. Why was that one lonesome piece of finery so disturbing to her?

            “I came to ask a question.” She stood straight and mumbled her mantra to herself. He was only a thing, a tool and nothing more. Those words alone kept her from turning and fleeing from what stood before her and the life she had once lived.

            “You? You of all people come here to me. But of course I shouldn’t be surprised. You never could make a decision or anything else on your own.”

            “Perhaps. But I need answers and you have nothing else to loose to give me those answers. Or at least a direction where I can find them.” Anger at his barb made her bold. He could strike her dead anytime he liked but she would be a thrice be damned gnome if she’d go meekly without speaking out. She had found out the hard way what happened when you didn’t stand up for yourself.

            “Nothing to loose. No I suppose I don’t. I wonder whose fault that might be though, dear sister?” His words dripped venom just as the fangs that protruded from his once handsome mouth.

            “Will you or won’t you answer me?” She thrust her chin out in defiance. If he chose to slay her now she’d have her answers and then some when she made it to the Abyss.

             A throaty nasty sound issued from the creatures throat, it might have been an attempt at laughter. “What would it hurt I suppose. A nice family reunion. What do you say Zin’vey after our reminiscence we have dinner, your treat?”

            Zin decided to ignore the threat and push into the reason she had taken all these risks. “Did you really worship The Masked Lord, like the council said?”

            “Ha! You came all this way to ask such a stupid question. I must admit that is rather dull even for you sister.”

            “Did you or not? The rest is dependant upon your answer.”

            “You never were the sharpest spear were you? But yes, I did worship The Masked Lord. Or I tried to. I know the next question, no point in wasting your breath. Yes, Rilmarn is the one that lead me to my first hidden temple.” He gazed down at her with loathing waiting for her reply. “Nice belt by the way.”

            “Under my own nose not only you but Ril also. How could I have not seen?” The question was more to herself than anyone else, she had forgotten in her moment of reflection that she wasn’t alone. She didn’t even acknowledge his most recent attempt to provoke her, mentioning that she wore his sire’s braid around her waist.

            “How? The same as everything else. Zin’vey didn’t want to see. You closed your eyes and it didn’t exist any longer. You live your life with your eyes closed sister. You always have and always will.”

            Looking up at what used to be her brother she thought about what he had just said. “I suppose your right. It was just easier that way. Not any longer though. I don’t think I could close my eyes now if I tried.”

            He looked at her with a mixture of disgust and maybe just a little respect. Narfein lowered his bloated spider’s body to the rocky floor and stared at his sister with pale green eyes. “Ask what you want. I’ll answer them. What happens after I’ve not decided yet.”

            “Did He ever answer you? I mean really answer you. Something you knew was Him and not just a coincidence or something you wanted to believe was Him. I mean after ‘it’ happened”

            He knew as well as she did what the “it” was that she referred to. It was the time when his god had been slain by his own sister Ellistrtrae. Almost ironic wasn’t it that it seemed all sisters, even divine ones, were such back stabbing wenches.

            “Yes He answered, sometimes. Not very often. Mostly it was in the duel voice that belongs to both of them.” A similar shiver swept through both siblings at the thoughts of the voice. Both male and female, it seemed so wrong. “Once He did answer me with His own voice, the one from before. When I needed him in the dungeons of House Baenre he didn’t answer me at all, in either voice.”

            “Then He is still there. I knew I wasn’t the only one to have heard it. All those pretenders, those priestesses that try to preach about equality and loving one another. All so much dung. I knew it!” Zin almost leaped with her revelation.

            “Don’t tell me you’re a traitor? Did you really finally get enough of a back bone to turn away from the simpering spider?”

            “Oh, what? Yes, yes, whatever. Now I just have to find out how to root out the others. Yes that’s it, I need to find the other true followers.”

            Narfein was taken aback by the brush off he had just received. This green haired being was very different than what he remembered of his sister. How long had it been since his transformation? He couldn’t recall exactly.

            “There might be a way. If you’re willing that is.” He couldn’t help but supply this information to this mumbling, pacing female that he had thought was his sister.

            “Yes, tell me. That’s why I’m here. Didn’t I tell you that. I came all this way to get answers dear brother.” She smiled sweetly up at the monstrosity as if she didn’t see what he truly was.

            He arched one white eyebrow at this. It seemed like there was more than one Zin’vey walking around in that body. How strange she had become.

            “There is a mask. Not just any ordinary mask but one that was suppose to have been worn by The Masked Lord himself during the Times of Troubles. It’s suppose to have special properties. There are too many rumors and stories about the mask to go into now. Needless to say, if you want answers then this mask should provide some. If it really exists. Look in the library in Sorcere for clues. That’s all I can really tell you.”

            “I knew to find you Nar, you always were far too smart for your own good.” Zin turned to leave pointing at the bundle she had taken such pains to bring with her. “Oh, I remembered how much you liked females, so I brought you one. She may only be a half drow, but she is attractive. Or at least she was.”

            It was far past time to make her exit. She could here the chittering of other driders and those wouldn’t be so easily bribed as her once brother had been. The sounds of high pitched screaming accompanied Zin out of the dank cavern as she stuffed five rather large fungus bulbs into her belt pouch. She hadn’t heard such sweet music in a very long time.






***The Masked Lord and Ellistrae copyright WotC.