The Master of Melee-Magthere saw the hand axe coming toward his shoulder and twisted himself so that the blade just missed him then flicked Splitter back and up, slicing cleanly through the gray dwarf's arm at the elbow. Howling in agony, the duergar stumbled away, letting the momentum of the blow bear him out of harm's way. Ryld let the sword swing spin him completely around so that he planted his feet facing once more in the direction of the original enemy, who had disentangled himself from the chain and had flung it away.
Ryld shifted his greatsword a couple times, circling with the gray dwarf, the two of them warily sizing one another up. The weapons master stepped into a handful of slices and thrusts, flinging halfhearted attacks toward the dwarf that never really threatened it but allowed Ryld to see just how eager his opponent was to engage with him. The gray dwarf shied away from every cut and parry, and the Master of Melee-Magthere knew the duergar would break off the fight soon, assuming its companions dwindled to sufficiently small numbers around it.
Ryld stepped into an attack again, keeping his blade low and squarely in front of him, and the duergar trod backward another step. Then, as if out of nowhere, Valas appeared from the shadows, swinging one of his kukris low across the gray dwarf's hamstring. The duer-gar's knee buckled, and the scout came over the top with his other blade, stabbing it into the creature's chest. The duergar made a gurgling sound as he shivered and fell over.
The Master of Melee-Magthere shifted his attention elsewhere as soon as he saw the threat eliminated. He spied Jeggred ripping a drow to shreds. Only two others were visible, looking for a way to get inside the draegloth's reach, but Ryld doubted that would be the case for long. Another dark elf was fighting to keep Pharaun's rapier away from him, but Quenthel was closing on his flank, and the high priestess lashed out with her scourge, allowing the snake heads to sink their teeth deeply into the creature's neck. Jerking from the sudden sting of the bites, the drow was unable to maintain his attention on the rapier, which ran through his eye.
Another foe was squared off with Halisstra, who warded off a pair of stout blows with her mithral shield. On the third stroke from the dark elf across from her, she used the shield to deflect the strike and throw her opponent off-balance, then swung the heavy mace in her other hand upward in a vicious stroke, right into his chin. There was a loud, drumlike boom, a magical concussion that was obviously much louder than the simple impact of metal on bone, and the drow sank to the ground, his jaw shattered.
Breathing heavily, Ryld surveyed the battlefield. In addition to his six companions and Halisstra's brother, the only ones still standing were a small circle of perhaps a dozen exhausted drow and duergar who had ceased fighting for the moment and were watching as the duergar commander squared off with Ssipriina Zauvirr. The gray dwarf and the matron mother circled one another warily, as smoke wafted about, obscuring everything beyond the circle of Menzober-ranyr and the three remaining members of House Melarn.
«Now is our chance,» Pharaun said from next to the weapons master. «Let's go.»
«No,» Quenthel and Halisstra said together.
«Not until she goes down,» the daughter of Drisinil Mclarn added.
The Mistress of Arach-Tinilith nodded in agreement and said, «If she kills him, we're finishing her.»
Pharaun groaned. «This is hardly the time for revenge, Mistresses.»
Ssipriina feinted with her mace, and as the gray dwarf twisted out of the way of the attack, the drow palmed a wand and aimed it at her enemy. A thin ray of grayish light shot forth from the tip of the magical device, striking the duergar squarely in the chest. The gray dwarf clutched at his chest and cried out. He dropped to one knee with a groan, and Ssipriina loomed over him.
The duergar disappeared.
Snarling in rage at this trickery, the matron mother slammed her mace down where her foe had been, but she struck nothing but the pavement. Spinning, she swung back and forth wildly, trying to gain a lucky hit, but she found nothing.
The gray dwarf commander appeared again, leaping forward from one side as Ssipriina had turned her back to him. His axe was high, but his war cry gave the drow time to roll away from the worst of the attack. Instead of taking the blade of his weapon full on her skull, it raked across the back of her shoulder with a spurt of crimson.
The matron mother cried out, tumbling prone. She rolled to one side as Khorrl lifted his axe for another stroke. As she came around to face him, she fired off another beam with the wand.
«With a grunt, Khorrl Xornbane dropped his axe and clutched his stomach, then crumpled to the ground, letting out a gurgling death sigh.
Quenthel and Halisstra both came at Ssipriina, who was trying to get to her feet, clutching her wounded shoulder with her good hand. Quenthel stepped to one side of the matron mother and struck down with her whip. The fangs of the snakes bit into the drow's flesh and she screeched in pain, then tried to spin around and aim the wand at the high priestess. Halisstra was ready for that, though, and she swung her mace down hard on Ssipriina's hand. The crunch of bone was unmistakable.
Around them all, the duergar and the drow began to fight again, and Ryld had to duck to avoid a sword swung at him by one of the dark elves. He sank to one knee and reversed Splitter, driving the point of the blade into his opponent's midsection. The drow threw up blood and sank to his knees, staring down at the sword in his gut. Impassively, Ryld planted his boot on the other drow's chest and yanked his greatsword free, turning back to see what was happening between the females as the body of his foe collapsed.
Quenthel had a hold of Ssipriina's hair, holding her head up. Both of the matron mother's arms were injured, and she could barely lift them to protect herself—and the poison was starting to take effect.
«Stop it!» Quenthel cried, yelling at the combatants around her. «Stop fighting, now!»
Slowly, the duergar and the drow began to back away, turning to look at Quenthel.
«Enough!» the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith said, her voice echoing through the haze. «This is pointless. The city is burning, and we must get out. If you stay here now and try to kill your enemies, you simply bring about your own death. That is not the drow way, and I cannot imagine it is the duergar way, either.»
There were murmurs all around as the dark elves and the gray dwarves eyed each other hatefully, but Ryld saw more than a few shake their heads, agreeing with what Quenthel was saying.
«If you want any chance of living, then go your separate ways and get out of here, before the whole—»
The web street shook violently, tossing everyone about. Ryld, already on one knee, managed to maintain his balance. He peered around uncertainly. The whole length of the calcified webbing was unstable, listing sharply to one side. Ryld knew their time was up, and he began to levitate. Then he spotted what had created the upheaval as a second shock wave made the crumbling pavement shift again.
A giant spider had descended from overhead and was scurrying toward them. Behind it, a second spider was also drifting downward, playing out a length of web as it glided down.
Damnation, Ryld thought. There's just no end to this.
He peered around, looking for a direction to go to get clear of the approaching beasts.
Pharaun appeared beside the weapons master, hovering in the air and eyeing the advancing spiders.
«I think I've had quite enough of this,» the wizard commented dryly, allowing his dancing rapier to disappear into his ring.
Ryld saw Quenthel and Halisstra, still standing over the slowly dying Ssipriina. He pointed them out to Pharaun.
«They don't know, yet,» he said, dropping back down. «We've got to warn them!»
Once on his feet, the weapons master carefully managed to hold his balance as he rushed across the intervening space.
«Spiders!» he shouted as he neared them, pointing.
Quenthel looked up and her eyes grew wide. Jeggred appeared out of the haze of smoke next to her, his fur matted with blackening blood.
«We still don't know where to go,» Pharaun said, a tinge of despair in his voice as he joined Ryld. «The best choice for now is simply over the side.»
«Use your magic,» Quenthel commanded. «Get us out of here!»
Pharaun spread his hands helplessly.
«Believe me, Mistress,» he said, «if I had the means I would be using it. I've got nothing left. I can't conjure a gate just by willing it.»
The first spider loomed closer, and Jeggred advanced toward it, determined to keep himself between the giant arachnid and his mistress. Valas slunk into the group, pulling Danifae along by the hand. The battle captive had a large cut across her forehead, and blood was dripping down into her eyes, making it difficult for her to see.