Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [47]
A wave of longing struck her with the force of a blow. This, she realized suddenly, was what she had craved all her life. This is what all those forays into the Underdark had been about, and the endless social flitting through the city. She was a born traveler, trapped among beings who were content to live and die in a cavern that measured a mere two miles across. Wondrous though Menzoberranzan might be, it was a small place for such as she.
Liriel buried her head in her hands and struggled to keep from screaming aloud. The young female had never known despair, but it closed in on her now. The walls of her room tightened, too, until they threatened to swallow the candlelight.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the moment passed, chased from her mind by a bold plan. Liriel slowly raised her eyes to her scrying bowl.
Why not? she thought rebelliously. If she was allowed to glimpse into the Abyss and study its creatures and its fell secrets, why shouldn't she learn more about her own world? I^rhaps somewhere in the Lands of Light, descendants of the Rus lived out their lives with the lusty, brawling abandon she had glimpsed in this old book. Why should she not find them and study their ways?
It occurred to her that even that might not be enough. Instantly Liriel pushed aside that thought and snatched up the precious spell scroll. She had learned to take what life offered, without reflecting overmuch on what she might not have.
So the dark elf lit yet another candle, and began to study how she might gain a window into the Lands of Light.
Fyodor had no idea how long he had wandered in the Underdark, for here even time seemed distorted and unreal. It was not just that he was deep below the surface, far from the comforting rhythms of the sun and the moon. The constant, raw-nerved alertness required to stay alive gave each moment an incredible clarity, so each lingered in his mind long after it should have given way to the next. In a way, the slowing of time was like that which he experienced during the berserker rage, and it was almost as exhausting.
He'd carried into the Underdark food and water enough for two days, and although he had eaten and drunk sparingly, both were almost gone. Worse, his supply of torches was nearing an end. He had seen nothing down in this land that looked as if it would burn, and that was a problem. As long as he had light, Fyodor could follow the trail of the drow thieves. He faced a hard choice: pressing on, or trying to find a way back to the surface so he could get the supplies he needed to try again.
Fyodor pressed on. The tracking was difficult, and if he faltered now he might never find the trail. Although there were five drow, they walked lightly, and any trail was difficult to follow in terrain so different from his own land.
As he pondered the difficulties of his quest, it did not occur to him to ask what he would do when he found the drow. He knew what he could do, and that knowledge spurred him on.
In hie land, famed for her berserker warriors, Fyodor was a champion. He had earned respect in his land, and already there was talk of making him a Fang-a chieftain in charge of a band of warriors. He was respected, but he was also feared for what he was. He, in turn, feared what he might become.
One of Rashemen's most misunderstood magics involved the distillation ofjhuild, a libation so powerful it was commonly-and accurately-called "firewine." A less potent version was distilled as a trade good, but it was definitely an acquired taste, one few foreigners cared to develop. Each berserker warrior carried a flask that held an endless supply ofjhuild and drank it from time to time with no more effect than would be expected from any other strong distilled drink. But before battle, jhuild was used in a ritual that inflamed the passions and raised warriors to an impossible level of skill and ferocity. This was something Rashemi were trained to do since birth, and no one who lacked this training could successfully bring on a berserk.
Unlike his fellow warriors, Fyodor was a natural