Dreams of Darkness Rising - III

Adventure Date: January 4, 2009

Last Updated: February 15, 2008

The next time you fall asleep, you have the following Dreams of Darkness ...

You find yourself standing alone at the entrance to the Zhentarim Citadel that you and your companions recently conquered. The sun is passing by overhead, rising in the west and setting in the east, taking you to days of yesterday, stopping at a sunset long since gone, but which is now casting dark red shadows along the mountain peaks around you.

You look at the chasm below. The shadows turn darker still and almost seem alive as they twist and turn up and around the rock face below. As they get closer, you see figures writhing amongst the shadows, coalescing into fierce Drow warriors, getting closer, ever closer to you, standing alone at the entrance to the Zhentarim Citadel.

You turn and flee, the swarm of Drow spilling inside and down the tunnel behind you. You make it to the smithy, and hide amongst the instruments, just before the swarm overtakes you. Jebalek the gnome is still there, trussed up, just as you left him. The Drow warriors stop inside the smithy and look at the pitiful gnome before them. Jebalek's eyes pop open, awake, calculating, as consciousness returns.

The Drow warriors stand aside against the wall, allowing a regal female Drow to enter the smithy, just as Jebalek wiggles free of his bonds. A stern stout stocky dwarf stands behind the regal female Drow, like a bodyguard or some sort of glorified pet. The dwarf holds a dwarven war axe in his hands. For a moment, you get a glimpse of his face amongst the shadows. The features quickly vanish, but for a moment, they seemed familiar to you.

The regal looking female drow reaches down and taps the gnome on the head with her hand, healing his wounds.

"There, There, little one, I trust that feels better now. Someone of your stature should be treated with more respect."

Jebalek puffs out his chest with pride, and tries to stand a few inches taller, while putting on airs of importance.

"Now tell me little one, I understand there were prisoners here. Perhaps you can tell me their fate amongst all this carnage. In particular, a prisoner by the name of Gwenect Moondark. She would have stood out, being a drow."

Jebalek motions for the regal female drow to bend down. Smiling, she complies, lending her ear, as he whispers, "Freed her they did, them's whom gutted and hogtied me and left me here to rot."

"And who are 'they'?" the regal female drow deftly inquires.

"Bunch of self-acclaimed heroes, six of them, called themselves the Seekers of Faerun. Their leader is the truly dangerous one."

Smirking, the regal female drow loudly proclaims to all within earshot, "These so-called heroes, these Seekers of Faerun, are but an annoyance. They will be dealt with soon enough, and as for their leader, I have a special fate in store for that one."

"And as for you, little one, I could use someone of your talents, your skills, and your courage. Follow me, and soon, everyone will know to respect you, to fear you. So tell me, little one, will you follow me?"

Without hesitation, Jebalek, rejects the workings of Gond, and swears fealty to her, filling his heart with darkness.

"Now come, little one, there is still much to be done."

"A moment mistress", says Jebalek, and he turns around to reach inside an apparently empty treasure chest.

"Those foolish heroes were no match for my masterful gnomish ingenuity. Overlooked the real treasure, they did. See how clever I am. A secret false bottom in the chest", Jebalek says triumphantly, reaching down and pulling out a gaudily decorated multi-hued tome.

"My detailed notes on the proper craft and art of spellweaving for gnomes of all things Illusionary and Arcane", he explains.

"Leave it", commands the regal female drow, "And I will teach you true magic".

Dropping his spellbook to the ground and abandoning it, Jebalek follows his new dark mistress and her swarm of drow out of the Zhentarim Citadel and into the rising darkness…

Disclaimer: Individual dreams may vary. No guarantee that dreams were received by all.
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