The gray dwarves turned her escort toward a great fortress delved into a mighty stalagmite. Ramparts of stone and turrets of iron guarded the sloping sides of the duergar castle. As the ogres carried her into the open gate of the king’s palace, Aliisza could not check her impulse to glance up at the mighty portcullis and deadly devices poised to crush any attack. She had several ways to escape if she needed to, but none of her warriors would get out of the palace alive if the gray dwarves decided not to let them leave.
The procession came to a halt in a large, cheerless hall whose floor was made of polished stone slabs.
“It seems that I am here,” Aliisza said to herself.
She tapped on the palanquin’s side, and the ogres lowered the carriage carefully to the floor. The alu-fiend waited for the seat to settle, then let herself out, straightening and stretching her wings.
A duergar officer wearing a plain black surcoat over his armor approached her.
“You said you wished to see the crown prince,” he stated.
“At his earliest convenience,” Aliisza replied. She’d had the same conversation several times that day with various gray dwarf lieutenants and captains.
“Who are you, again?”
“I am Aliisza, an envoy from Kaanyr Vhok, the Sceptered One, Lord of Ammarindar and Master of Hellgate Keep. I believe your crown prince will find my lord’s message worth listening to.”
The officer scowled doubtfully.
“They stay here,” he said, nodding at Aliisza’s entourage. “Follow me.”
Aliisza glanced at the leader of her escort, a battered old tanarukk champion with a missing tusk, and said, “You and your warriors wait here. I might be a while.”
She followed the duergar captain deeper into the fortress, flanked by another half-dozen gray dwarf soldiers. She decided to think of them as an honor guard. They climbed a wide, sweeping stairway that might have been impressive if the gray dwarves had taken a single step toward decorating the place, and finally came to a throne room with huge, stone columns supporting a vaulted ceiling high overhead.
At the far end of the chamber stood a knot of gray dwarves. By the way they moved, and the cold regard in their eyes, Aliisza guessed that they were the high advisors and nobles of the realm, but their garb displayed no such ostentation. In their midst stood the only gray dwarf she’d seen yet with any kind of ornamentation, a burly fellow who wore a hauberk of gleaming chain mail beneath an embroidered surcoat of black and gold. A circlet of gold rested atop his bare head, and rings of gold gathered the braids of his beard.
The captain escorting Aliisza motioned for her to halt and went closer to whisper in the ear of the crown prince. The gray dwarf ruler glared at Aliisza, then stepped forward, thick arms folded across his chest.
“Welcome to Gracklstugh,” he said, though his hard eyes offered no welcome at all. “I am Horgar Steelshadow. What does Kaanyr Vhok want of me?”
Not long on the social graces, Aliisza noted.
Well, she’d never met a gray dwarf who was. She decided to speak plainly and not waste time on flattery or subtlety, as it was clear any such efforts would be lost on the ruler of Gracklstugh. She offered a small bow, and straightened.
“Kaanyr dispatched me to ask a few questions about what happened in Ched Nasad, and to perhaps explore some other issues,” she said. She glanced at the other gray dwarves standing nearby. “Does everyone here enjoy your confidence?”
Horgar frowned, and muttered something in Dwarvish. Several of the advisors or nobles moved off, returning to whatever duties they had elsewhere. A pair of heavily armored guards in black surcoats remained behind, as well as another important-looking duergar, a scarred fellow in armor who wore a tabard marked with a red symbol.
“My Stone Guards stay,” Horgar said, then indicated the scarred dwarf. “This is the clan laird Borwald Firehand, marshal of Gracklstugh’s army.”
Borwald returned Aliisza’s nod of greeting with a sullen glare. She shrugged and got back to the point, deciding to match directness with directness.
“A duergar clan—Xornbane, wasn’t it?—attacked the drow city of Ched Nasad, and precipitated its destruction. Kaanyr Vhok wonders if you set them to it.”
“Clan Xornbane are mercenaries,” Borwald answered. The scar he carried creased the side of his bald head from cheekbone to three inches behind the ear, leaving a visible indentation. “Whatever job they took in Ched Nasad is an issue of commerce, not of Deepkingdom policy. You should take up the matter with them.”
“I would, but survivors are hard to find,” Aliisza said. “As near as we can tell, they trapped themselves in the city they burned.” She returned her gaze to Horgar Steelshadow and asked, “So, did they destroy Ched Nasad with your blessing?”
“With my blessing?” The duergar prince thought for a moment, then said, “I am not unhappy that the City of Shimmering Webs fell, but I did not dispatch Clan Xornbane to do that piece of work. Khorrl Xornbane was hired by one of Ched Nasad’s matron mothers to help her destroy those Houses ahead of hers. I did not choose to interfere with Xornbane’s business.”
“In that case, Xornbane’s choice of tactics seems spectacularly unsound. They delivered their employer a smoking ruin, and sustained horrible losses in doing so,” Aliisza observed.
“I am afraid that I was at least in part responsible for that,” said a melodious voice to one side.
From the shadow of a pillar in the great hall a slim form emerged, a rakish drow of short stature and catlike grace. He was a handsome fellow, impeccably dressed in garments of black and gray, and he wore a matched rapier and dagger at his hip.
“On behalf of my fellows,” the newcomer said, “I arranged for Khorrl’s troops to be provided with the stonefire bombs that proved so effective in the slave uprising in Menzoberranzan. I did not imagine they would destroy Ched Nasad in its entirety, of course.”
Aliisza raised an eyebrow and said, “I did not expect to find a dark elf in the confidence of the prince of the duergar.”
“I am something of a sellsword,” the fellow replied, “tasked with effecting certain changes in a handful of Houses in Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan.” He offered her a slight smile that didn’t reach his intense eyes. “Call me Nimor.”
“Nimor,” Aliisza replied. “Whatever your purpose, you certainly effected a change in Ched Nasad. What do you have in mind regarding Menzoberranzan?”
Horgar shifted uncomfortably and asked, “What interest is this to Kaanyr Vhok?”
“Well, had we known that someone meant to attack Ched Nasad, we might have offered our assistance,” Aliisza replied. “My lord scents opportunity in the dark elves’ difficulties. If someone were considering a similar effort to lay low Menzoberranzan, we might be willing to take on partners in our business.”
Borwald sneered, “I doubt the Deepkingdom would have any need of a few hundred rabble squatting in fungus-grown ruins.”
Aliisza suppressed her annoyance.
They’re duergar, she told herself, abrasive and crass. This is how they are.
“Your intelligence is somewhat out of date,” she said. “My lord commands over two thousand hardened tanarukk warriors, each of them as strong as an ogre and three times as smart. We have built forges and armories, perhaps not as grand as those of Gracklstugh, but sufficient to arm and armor our soldiers. We command auxiliary troops as well—bugbears, ogres, giants, and such—more numerous than our tanarukk legion.” She leveled her gaze on Borwald and added,
“We don’t have the strength of the Deepkingdom, Firehand, but we could take on twice our number of gray dwarves and give them a fierce fight. You denigrate Kaanyr Vhok’s Scoured Legion at your peril.”