"Realms of the Underdark 2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthologies)

chilled his blood. So changed were the drow after dwelling for eons in the
realms below that they could never live in the overworld again. They were
creatures of the dark now. Lloth had seen to that. She had made them what they
were, and for that he hated her.
Zak let his gaze wander over the eerie cityscape before him. Pale faerie fire,
conjured by the wizards of the various houses, revealed the fantastic shapes
into which the cavern's gigantic stalagmites and stalactites had been hewn.
Slender bridges leapt impossibly between the stone spires. In the five thousand
years during which the dark elves had dwelt in this place, not a single surface
had been left untouched. Every piece of stone had been carved and polished and
shaped to suit the needs of the drow. Everything that was, except for Narbondel.
The rugged pillar of stone stood, as it had for millennia, in the center of the
great cavern. Here in the unending dark, where there was no alternation of day
and night to mark time, Narbondel served as the city's clock. Once each day,
Menzoberranzan's archmage cast a spell of fire upon the base of the pillar.
Throughout the day the enchanted fire rose, until the entire column glowed with
the heat of it, before finally fading into cool darkness - the Black Death of
Narbondel - upon which the cycle was begun anew.
Despite the magical fires that were cast upon it, each day Narbondel fell black
again. Darkness always won in the end. Zak shook his head. Perhaps he was a fool
to think he was different from the rest of his cruel and capricious kindred. He
killed only creatures of evil, but it was the killing itself he craved, was it
not? Maybe he was no different at all. That was, perhaps, his deepest fear.
A faint humming sound broke his grim reverie. Something twitched against his
throat. He reached into his neck-purse and pulled out the insignia of House
Do'Urden. The adamantite disk was engraved with a spider that wielded a
different weapon in each of its eight appendages. The coin glowed with silver
light and was warm against his hand. It was a summons. Matron Mother Malice,
leader of House Do'Urden, required the presence of her weapons master.
For a moment, Zaknafein gazed into the darkness behind him. He half considered
plunging back into the Dark Dominion and leaving the city forever. The chance
that a lone drow could survive in the Underdark was slim. But there was a
chance. And he could be free.
The metallic disk twitched again on his palm, the heat growing uncomfortable.
Zak sighed. Thoughts of fleeing evaporated. He belonged in the Underdark even
less than he did here. Like it or not, this was his home. He nudged his lizard
mount into a swift, swaying walk, heading through an arched gate into the city
of the drow.
One did not keep one's matron mother waiting.

Chapter Two
Matron Mother
"Where is he?" Matron Mother Malice of House Do'Urden demanded in a voice sharp
with impatience.
She paced with perilous grace before the adamantite railing that separated the
compound's private upper chambers from the common levels below, her dark gown
flowing behind her like shadows. The other nobles of the house-her five living
children, along with her current patron, Rizzen-watched from a prudent distance.
None dared cross the path of her ire.
Malice muttered a curse under her breath. There was no doubt Zaknafein was the