Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [80]
The gold elf noble drew himself up and his hand went to the sword at his belt. "Do you know what it means to treat someone of my station in such a fashion?"
"It means that if you don't get your face off my property your station will be beside whatever gods you worship and your head will be placed on a pike outside my walls as a warning for all those that follow that I will not tolerate some stuck up elf telling me what I can and cannot do on my own property! Now get out!"
Valeska dodged back and hid behind a marble column as the elf stormed out of Pierce's office and down the grand staircase. She waited a moment before stepping out.
The Doctor jumped back at her sudden appearance and his hand went to his heart. "Whoa! You nearly gave me a heart attack there!"
The bard smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to." She looked up at him. "So you were in a gladiator pit?"
"A long time ago. Thirteen years ago or so. They held me in there magically for two years and it wasn't until the Time of Troubles that I escaped."
"You must have some interesting stories right?"
"Indeed. I wouldn't want to go through them again though."
"If you recall some history, my father was also a slave gladiator. The Ko'Ragur family used it as a place to make alliances with other noble houses and at the same time make a profit by wagering on the gladiators. They bet human gladiators up against the best drow warriors other houses could come up with and down played the humans so they could increase the stakes."
"They told the matron mothers that the humans were blind in the dark and weaklings?" Pierce asked, already knowing the truth.
"Yes, but they were far from it. They're other senses had been magically intensified and surviving alone in the Underdark had built up their strength. The Matka Matrona got rid of many an enemy house's best warriors that way. If she lost, oh well, it was just a dead human to feed to the giant lizards."
"And your father, or tatus in the drow tongue, was?"
"The victor of one particular fight. She made a deal with him that he would lead a slave revolt and attack another noble house that the Matka Matrona wanted destroyed. In exchange she offered him his freedom and so much more."
"She kept her word? That would be a first for any Matron Mother."
"She did. Kolezenstworygor means rigorous comrade and we were a little more honourable than average."
"The salt of the earth in drow terms?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. Explains why our house fell. Too honourable for the tastes of other drow."
"I know about your goal against Lloth," Pierce said slowly, leaning over the balcony and looking at the marble floor below. "You've got your work cut out for you if you think poetry is going to persuade a whole race to abandon their patron goddess."
"The drow appreciate beauty. Its simply a matter of showing them how ugly Lloth really is and offering an alternative. That's the hard part."
Hiram sat down at a table in the corner of the cafeteria across from Marque Draque and watched the clean up crew working on the mess that was the cafeteria itself. Turning to the mage, the ex-boxer summoned up the courage to speak. He had never been one for words. "How's the sword coming?"
"Gravebringer? I haven't been working on it much lately. I should probably get back to it sometime soon. At the moment the sword is basically disabled. Crippled." The mage shoved his cigar into the table and flicked the ashes onto the floor for the janitors to clean up. "The maples should be done dripping within the next week and we can finish the last batch of lifesyrup. That is, of course, provided that Rambertz doesn't keep the sun out for too long. If we drain too much sap out of the trees, they'll be slower when spring comes and the harvest won't be the same."
"You always think in terms of money don't you?"
Draque paused and lit another cigar. "These things aren't cheap you know? I have to send away all the way to Menzoberranzan