Siege of Darkness

He liked K'yorl, Errtu decided. Here was one of his own heart, purely and deliciously wicked, a murderess who killed for pleasure, a player of intrigue for no better reason than the fun of the game. The great tanar'ri wanted to watch K'yorl push her adversary into the pillar of flame.

But Lloth's instructions had been explicit, and her bartered goods too tempting for the fiend to pass up. Amazingly, given the state of magic at the time, the gate was opening, and opening wide.

Errtu had already sent one tanar'ri, a giant glabrezu, through a smaller gate to act as messenger, but that gate, brought about by the avatar herself, had been tenuous and open for only a fraction of a moment. Errtu had not believed the feat could be duplicated, not now.

The notion of magical chaos gave the fiend a sudden inspiration. Perhaps the old rules of banishment no longer applied. Perhaps he himself might walk through this opening gate, onto the Material Plane once more. Then he would not need to serve as Lloth's lackey; then he might find the renegade Do'Urden on his own, and, after punishing the drow, he could return to the frozen Northland, where the precious Crenshinibon, the legendary Crystal Shard, lay buried!

The gate was opened. Errtu stepped in.

And was summarily rejected, pushed back into the Abyss, the place of his hundred-year banishment.

Several fiends stalked by the great tanar'ri, sensing the opening, heading for the gate, but snarling Errtu, enraged by the defeat, held them back.

Let this wicked drow, K'yorl, push Lloth's favored into the flames, the wretched Errtu decided. The gate would remain open with the sacrifice, might even open wider.

Errtu did not like the banishment, did not like being lackey to any being. Let Lloth suffer; let Baenre be consumed, and only then would he do as the Spider Queen had asked!

* * * * *

The only thing that saved Baenre from exactly that fate was the unexpected intervention of Methil, the illithid. The glabrezu had gone to Methil after visiting Jarlaxle, bringing the same prediction that House Baenre would prevail, and Methil, serving as ambassador of his people, made it a point to remain on the winning side.

The illithid's psionic waves disrupted K'yorl's telepathic attack, and Matron Baenre slumped back to the side of the table.

K'yorl's eyes went wide, surprised by the defeat—until Methil, who had been standing invisibly and secretly at Matron Baenre's side, came into view.

Wait for this to end, K'yorl's thoughts screamed at the octopus-headed creature. See who wins and then decide where your alliances lie.

Methil's assurance that he already knew the outcome did not disturb K'yorl half as much as the sight of the gigantic, batlike wing that suddenly extended from the pillar of flame: a tanar'ri—a true tanar'ri!

Another glabrezu hopped out of the fire to land on the floor between Baenre and her adversary. K'yorl hit it with a psionic barrage, but she was no match for such a creature, and she knew it.

She took note that the pillar was still dancing wildly, that another fiend was forming within the flames. Lloth was against her! she suddenly realized. All the Abyss seemed to be coming to Matron Baenre's call!

K'yorl did the only thing she could, became insubstantial once more and fled across the city, back to her house.

Fiends rushed through the open gate, a hundred of them, and still more. It went on for more than an hour, the minions of Errtu, and, thus, the minions of Lloth, coming to the call of the desperate matron mothers, swooping across the city in frenzied glee to surround House Oblodra.

Smiles of satisfaction, even open cheers, were exchanged in the meeting room at the back of the Qu'ellarz'orl. The avatar had done as promised, and the future of Lloth's faithful seemed deliciously dark once more.

Of the eight gathered, only Gromph wore a grin that was less than sincere. Not that he wanted House Oblodra to win, of course, but the male held no joy at the thought that things might soon be as they had always been, that he, for all his power and devotion to the ways of magic, would, above all else, be a mere male once more.

He took some consolation, as the flames died away and the others began to exit, in noticing that several of the offered items, including his prized spider mask, had not been consumed by the magical flames. Gromph looked to the door, to the matron mothers and Triel, and they were so obsessed with the spectacle of the fiends that they took no notice of him at all.

Part 3 RESOLUTION

How I wanted to go to Catti-brie after I realized the dangers ofher sword! How I wanted to stand by her and protect her! Theitem had possessed her, after all, and was imbued with a powerful and obviously sentient magic.

Catti-brie wanted me by her side — who wouldn't want the supportiveshoulder of a friend with such a struggle looming? — and yet she did notwant me there, could not have me there, for she knew this battle was hers tofight alone.

I had to respect her conclusion, and in those days when the Time ofTroubles began to end and the magics of the world sorted themselves outonce more, I came to learn that sometimes the most difficult battles are theones we are forced not to fight.

I came to learn then why mothers and fathers seldom have fingernailsand often carry an expression of forlorn resignation. What agony it must befor a parent in Silverymoon to be told by her offspring, no longer a child,that he or she has decided to head out to the west, to Waterdeep, to sail foradventure along the Sword Coast. Everything within that parent wants toyell out 'Stay!' Every instinct within that parent wants to hug the childclose, to protect that child forever. And yet, ultimately, those instincts arewrong.

In the heart, there is no sting greater than watching the struggles ofone you love, knowing that only through such strife will that person growand recognize the potential of his or her existence. Too many thieves in theRealms believe the formula for happiness lies in an unguarded treasuretrove. Too many wizards seek to circumvent the years of study required fortrue power. They find a spell on a scroll or an enchanted item that is far beyond their understanding, yet they try it anyway, only to be consumed by the powerful magic. Too many priests in the Realms, and too many religious sects in general, ask of themselves and of their congregations only

humble servitude.

All of them are doomed to fail in the true test of happiness. There is oneingredient missing in stumbling upon an unguarded treasure hoard; there is one element absent when a minor wizard lays his hands on an arch-mage's staff; there is one item unaccounted for in humble, unquestioning, and unambitious servitude.

A sense of accomplishment.

It is the most important ingredient in any rational being's formula ofhappiness. It is the element that builds confidence and allows us to go on toother, greater tasks. It is the item that promotes a sense of self- worth, thatallows any person to believe there is value in life itself, that gives a sense of purpose to bolster us as we face life's unanswerable questions.

So it was with Catti-brie and her sword. This battle had found her, andshe had determined to fight it. Had I followed my protective instincts, Iwould have refused to aid her in taking on this quest. My protectiveinstincts told me to go to Bruenor, who would have surely ordered the sentient sword destroyed. By doing that, or taking any other course to preventCatti-brie's battle, I would have, in effect, failed to trust in her, failed torespect her individual needs and her chosen destiny, and, thus, I wouldhave stolen a bit of her freedom. That had been Wulfgar's single failure. In his fears for the woman he so dearly loved, the brave and proud barbarianhad tried to smother her in his protective hug.

I think he saw the truth of his error in the moments before his death. Ithink he remembered