Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [94]
Tonight the song and the chant were largely a formality, for Lloth rarely spoke now except to the most powerful of her priestesses. It was whispered in Menzoberranzan that the loss of so many priestesses in the war and in the struggle for position that continued to this day had diminished the very power of the goddess. In times past-before the Time of Trouble, before the disastrous war-ceremonies such as this were often rewarded with some manifestation of Lloth's approval: a new spell, the creation of a magical item, the summoning of a scurrying rush of spiders, even an appearance of one of the goddess's minions. On rare occasions, the avatar of Lloth herself appeared to her faithful. But it seemed as if those times had passed.
Suddenly the faerie fire died, plunging the chamber into utter blackness. The song and the chant fell silent, and every eye was fixed in fearful fascination upon the faint glow dawning in the very heart of the chapel.
In the midst of the room, where the altar had been but a moment before, stood a huge, hideous creature. Its formless body resembled a mound of half-melted wax, and large bulbous eyes shone with baleful red light as it glared out at the assembly.
A mixture of elation and dread gripped Lloth's faithful. This was a yochlol, a creature from the lower planes and a handmaiden of the Spider Queen. For good or ill, the yochlol's appearance meant Lloth's eyes were upon them.
"Anarchy."
The yochlol's voice was faint and airy, a mere wisp of ^ sound, yet every ear in the room heard the single word of 4 warning.
The creature's body shifted and flowed, and an armlike appendage shot toward the student priestess and knocked the silver tray from her still-uplifted arms. The sacrificed heart flew across the room to land in the lap of an aged priestess. In the utter silence the sound of the tray hitting the stone floor was a ringing portent of doom.
The yochlol oozed forward and snatched up the heart from the old priestess's bloodstained lap. It held the sacrifice aloft.
"Another life taken," the creature hissed. "Do you think this carnage pleases Lloth?"
Triel Baenre stepped forward and sank into a respectful bow. "For centuries untold, this has been the custom of the drow, by the command of Lloth. Teach us where we have erred."
Too much blood stains the streets of Menzoberranzan," announced the yochlol in its otherworldly whisper. Too few drow remain, yet you slay each other without thought for the consequences. In your selfish ambitions, you have endangered all. By the decree of Lloth, this striving between houses must cease. Likewise, the struggle for personal power within each house must end. Until Lloth instructs otherwise, there is to be peace among her followers. Tonight, at the hour of Narbondel's Black Death, the twenty most powerful houses that remain will gather together in Qu'ellarz'orl."
The yochlol named them in turn, from House Baenre down to House Vandree. "So you are ranked by the word of Lloth, and so you will remain until it pleases the goddess to release you from this enforced peace. Any house that has not settled its affairs and chosen a matron by the appointed hour will be summarily destroyed," the creature admonished. "Go now, each to her own house, and carry with you the word of Lloth."
Another tremor passed through the yochlol's form, and the handmaiden melted into a bubbling puddle. Steam rose from the seething mass, forming into a multitude of wraith-like spiders and floating up toward the carved image of Lloth that surrounded the chapel with its stone embrace. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the manifestation of the yochlol was gone.
The drow priestesses sat stunned and silent. Lloth, the Spider Queen, the Lady of Chaos, was calling for peace! No one was sure what to make of such a thing!
Again Matron Triel broke the silence. "You have heard. At the appointed hour, we will meet at House Baenre."
Scowls met this announcement. The yochlol had